Tiger Tales: A Valentine's Day Escape from Stupid Cupid to India's Wild Heart (Part two)

The 'VIP Treatment' in Jaipur

No surprises that I was the only singleton on the Tigers and Temples tour that would take in the delights of Jaipur, Agra, Corbett National Park and Delhi. I joined five couples ranging in age from newlyweds in their early thirties to people old enough to be my Mum and Dad and way past the honeymoon phase of their relationships. I was 22 years old and quite frankly relieved that I would be around some kindly older folk who clearly wanted to take me under their wings the minute they discovered I was alone and vulnerable.

On arrival in Jaipur we were met by a friendly man called Dillip who was to be our guide for the following couple of days as we took in the Amer Fort and the stunning Palace of the Winds. Dillip was in charge of allocating our rooms at the hotel and when I asked if it would be possible to have a double bed so that I could stretch out after the long journey, he broke into an unusually large Cheshire Cat grin and told me that that would be no problem at all. 'Fabulous!' I thought, what great customer service! And off I skipped to get an early night ready for the full day of sightseeing the following day.

After breakfast myself and the rest of the tour group were shepherded to the awaiting minibus and whisked off to the Amer Fort. High on a hillside, this red sandstone and marble structure was once home to the Rajput Maharajas and is also known as the Amber Palace. I'm ashamed to admit that back then when we didn't question animal welfare quite as much as in the present day, we were all taken up the steep driveway to the Fort on elephant back (I actually don't recall having a choice to be fair). After touring the buildings and taking photos of the intricately detailed walls covered in mirrorwork, it was time to head back down to the minibus and on to the Palace of the Winds.

Amer Fort, Jaipur

I'd seen photos of the Palace of the Winds in books when I was researching the trip, and I had been really looking forward to seeing it. The building's many windows or jharokhas were used by the ladies of the royal household to observe the busy Johari Bazaar down below whilst remaining out of sight of the public, and this fascinated me. The thought of all the ladies peeping out at the passers by and gossiping from the shadows was pretty cool.

The many windows of the Palace of the Winds

Unfortunately for me, the Palace of the Winds proved to be an apt name...for not long after we arrived I felt the strange gurglings that no woman wants to feel when she's nowhere near a public toilet. Not wanting to make a fuss, I decided to take some deep breaths and hope that the sinking feeling in my stomach would disappear as quickly as it came on. It didn't. It became very obvious that I'd have to alert someone to my predicament and one of the older ladies in the tour group, Mary, asked if it would be possible to arrange for a taxi to take me back to the hotel straight away.

No sooner had I arrived back in my plush double room did I have to make a mad dash for the loo. Without going in to too much detail, it was as if the contents of my guts had been liquidised and someone had opened the floodgates. There was no stopping it! Every time I thought it was over and I attempted to crawl towards the bed, it would start up again and I'd have to make a swift about-turn back to the cold tiled floor of the bathroom. About twenty minutes in, I dared to slither like a snake on my belly to the bed and turned on the TV to try and distract myself. All I could find was a film 'My Cousin Vinny', which is supposed to be fairly good...I wouldn't know as I spent most of it drifting in and out of consciousness, waking up every now and then to Ralph Macchio's face on the screen. At one point I had a full-on hallucination that my Mum and Granny had arrived to come and rescue me. I think I cried when I realised they weren't actually there. Being a lone emotionally ill-prepared traveller with 'Delhi Belly' was not much fun.

'Friendly guide' (posed by model)

Fast forward a couple of hours and the belly issues had begun to calm down. There'd be no dinner for me that night, just water and plenty of sleep so that I could feel better for the next day when we would be making the journey to Agra, home of the Taj Mahal, a must-see for most travellers to India. Lying on my bed, eyelids drooping and drained of all energy, I was startled by the sudden ring of the bedside telephone. 'Who could this be?' I wondered, half considering ignoring it. After a few seconds of contemplation I decided to pick up the receiver, secretly hoping that by a miracle my family or friends had magically got hold of the phone number for the hotel and were ringing to check up on me. However, on answering I was surprised to hear a male voice on the line. 'Hello this is Dillip, your guide. How was your day today, how did you enjoy the palace?'. Once again, I was impressed by the customer service! How nice to get a personal phone call to enquire after my wellbeing. Perhaps he'd heard that I hadn't been well and had had to come back to the hotel earlier than planned? 'Oh thank you, it was beautiful but I didn't really get to see everything because I wasn't feeling very well' I responded. 'Ah ok, are you better now?' Dillip eagerly enquired. 'Yes I think so thank you' I said, again impressed by the concern he had for my health and enjoyment of the trip. 'I can come to your room if you like?' he replied in a helpful, or should I say hopeful tone. 'Oh no, that's not necessary, I'm fine thank you' said a naive me. 'Are you sure? I can come up now if you like?' Dillip enquired with an air of insistence in his voice. 'Oh no thank you, there's nothing I need, I'm just going to go to sleep now so that I'm ready for the morning's travelling'. A crestfallen Dillip said his goodbyes and I almost felt bad. He'd clearly wanted to help and check up on my wellbeing after my day of tummy troubles. How kind of him.

The following morning I managed to make it to breakfast, somewhat ravenous after expelling what felt like every calorie I'd consumed in the whole month prior to the belly bug. Mary and some of the other older couples were already seated and seemed genuinely pleased to see me after the previous day's shenanigans. They eagerly enquired if I was feeling better and started advising me on the best things to eat post-trots. It was like having my Mum and Dad there in triplicate. I mentioned that Dillip's check-in call had made me feel like a VIP and marvelled at the good customer service that we'd all received so far on the trip...this was met by blank stares. 'You know' I said, 'the phone call to see if we'd had a nice day and if there was anything we needed because he'd come up and see us. Wasn't that nice of him?' I exclaimed. Mary looked at her husband Tony, who looked at some of the other older folk and they all fell about laughing. 'What?' I asked, 'What's so funny?' After they'd virtually picked themselves up off the floor, Mary said 'he never called us', 'no he didn't call us either!' piped up one of the others. Tony winked at me and said between giggles 'that's because you asked if you could have a double bed...he thought he was in there!'

OH...MY...GOD. How stupidly naive had I been. The dirty git didn't care that I hadn't been well, nor did he care whether or not I'd received a good service. HE thought he was going to give ME a good servicing in my lovely double bed!!! And here I was hoping that India would be the perfect antidote to Valentine worries. More fool me.

To be continued...