My bus from McLeod Ganj stopped at about 2am I presumed for another cup of chai, sweeter than Coke and as milky as hot chocolate. I jumped down from my ‘luxurious’ double sleeper and found the driver drenched in petroleum, squeezing a sodden rag into the fuel tank. It appears our bus had run out of petrol and some local trucks had been flagged down. We soon pulled away to find a gas station about 200 yards down the road. They filled the tank with 210 Litres of Petroleum (or maybe deisel) which cost $215. There has been much news about the price of gas in India, as the government has been subsidising it for years, to keep its poorer economy ticking along. Hopefully Air France will manage to keep their tank full for the flight to Paris this evening.
I have also, presonally, run out of fuel. I am going to have to drag myself out of my air-conditioned hotel to take some last photos. By the time I return home, I will have slept 3 of the last seven days in an actual bed. My ability to avoid missing Amanda, Stella, Louise and Brooklyn has finally collapsed now that I am in ‘middle earth’ Delhi. After 4 weeks of sobriety and more walking and carrying than I do in a year, I am ready for some good old fashioned lounging in my local bar. It has been a testament of character for all those people who have endured me the past 4 weeks. I especially need to thank Scott, who on my last day kept a positive attitude as I interrogated his NGO, and after dinner I insulted his Tibetan friend. Hopefully he will come out to NY and we can repay some of his hospitality. He has made it possible for me to meet new people in McLeod and not wander the streets chatting with old friends and living in old dreams. As a sign of how few Tibetans I now know in McLeod (the almighty US Visa being Wonka’s Golden Ticket), Scott was the only person who came to see me off and tied a white Khata round my neck.
I think if Chris had been there we would have been quite the band of merry men!
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