Rishikesh, yoga capital of the world, is expecting a once every six year influx of people in the next couple of days: the Kumbh Mela. I’m not sure what that’s about: a fair, a gathering of holy people, a festival of yoga, but I think the place will be heaving when I come back down the mountain. Fitting in this penultimate leg before returning to Delhi was always going to be tight, so I’ve postponed the return flight for a couple of days.
Arranging that with Jet Airways was refreshingly easy and in keeping with how I’ve found doing business here to be. Whilst there’s often a moment of confusion as the communication channel is opened and language, accents and intentions negotiated, after that it’s usually a jolly affair. Even haggling is amiable. If the deal isn’t happening, then I get the impression no one should feel disappointed or pressured, instead a fatalistic wobble of the head and a smile acknowledging, ‘perhaps some other time’.
Tomorrow before heading off I’m going to try yoga for only the second time; the first was 30 years ago. I didn’t feel very bendy back then, but I’m looking forward to trying something different. I’ve even bought some baggy trousers just in case it works out, that’s optimism.
2 thoughts on “Haggling over baggy trousers”
If the Enfield, buses, camels, dogs, pedestrians and food don’t get ya, what’s the betting you end in Delhi general with a slipped disc!
Yoga? Jeez. As my Dad often reminds me, there is no fool like an old fool! :o)