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My Ashram of Shiteness in Poopna - Now back home - thanks God, no more Chicken Napalm!


Junkman

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If you get the chance, try to find some of their 1950s style coloured bakelite telephones to shove in your luggage when you return. Indian Telephone Industries were using the old moulds long after the uk, a nice Jade Green one would realise at least £250 over here so that could buy you at least five Renault Lagunas.

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I visited Bombay and Cochin in 1979 .quite a few times as it was a regular run..........things that stuck in my mind from Bombay were the Fiat 110 style taxis while posh folk had an Ambassador. They were loads of street beggars and people with missing limbs who got around on improvised flat trolleys. Loads of people lived on the streets and there was a massive gulf between the haves and have nots. Like a lot of places I suppose but to a 17 year me it seemed a very stark contrast and has stayed with me - it must have been very noticeable as all I was interested then was beer, food and pussy.

 

We used to go to the Sheraton hotel for a slap up dinner and if you put a cig in your mouth a uniformed bloke would appear to light it. Oh..........and the Cages made a memorable trip out.

 

Cochin was just like 'It ain't half hot mum' with tracks marked out with white painted stones. And when we came into dock boats would come to watch us moor up......in these boats were girls who would strip if you threw a bar of soup.........

 

Fuck.........hark at me going on.......... I'm old!

 

And, you, JM are a lucky bugger..........of all the places I went I think India would be the only one I'd be really keen to go back to

 

 

I don't know, but everyone appears to describe an India I meanwhile don't really believe ever existed. There must be some kind of parallel Disney-India

you all went to, that has absolutely nothing in common with the real India.

 

There are no beggars, no people sleeping in the streets, no gangs of children eyeing up sahibs, no policemen in intersections, certainly no uniformend man lighting your cigaretts, because India is militantly non-smoking, and most of all, no old bakelite phones. Everyone has the latest in i-pad technology and every conceivable app installed on it.

Hell, I haven't seen a single man wearing a turban yet. None. Nada. Zilch. Njet. Nix.

 

The only thing this country is, is being annoyingly newfangled and hilariously PC.

Now that I've been here, done it, bought a t-shirt (literally), I don't think I'd want to ever come back, but sure will have to.

 

However, if any of you would like to remember this horrible India made from legends the way you obviously do, then don't revisit it, unless you want to experience what real disappointment is.

And another thing: Even the back streets here do not look like they were imported from 1993 Albania, as they do in the UK, because they have austerity there to be able to send all those billions of aid to India. It would be quite funny if it weren't so bloody pathetic.

 

Oh, and my shit is STILL on the solid side, I have you know, despite I meanwhile eat salad and brush my teeth with tap water, as you do,

because I quite literally don't give a shit anymore about all this bollox.

 

Anyway, tomorrow is another day of work, but on the weekend I will go and pap that newfangled tosh around here so you all will finally believe me.

 

My conclusion:

 

It's our old Europe, that's ever more carefully social engineered to fall behind the rest of the World. Phakt.

A modern day Indian must be appalled by what he sees if he visits our countries.

But why nobody never believes me despite I'm always right is a phenomenon that will never cease to amaze me...

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Apparently I will have to extend my stay for another week, making it three altogether. This is going to become an issue, since I miss proper food already and have no facilities to cook for myself.

But in my quest to escape this urban hipster lifestyle shiz for at least a little bit, I decided to go to the country/seaside next weekend.

Thus I managed to hire this fine vehicular transport device:

 

http://www.snapbikes.com/

281215064023_bike2.png

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Today, I went into a garden in my neighbourhood.

 

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In the garden was a house.

 

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It once belonged to a Mr Khan, who made AGA stoves, I think. His house had an entrace.

 

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So I went in. Inside, there was a satue of a man, who was famous, and one of a woman, who was not.

 

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Going by the barrier, some very important people must have sat at that table once.

 

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There was an old bathroom.

 

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I walked alongside the house.

 

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And back into the garden.

 

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I arrived at a weird tree.

 

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Behind the tree were two graves.

 

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One is Mahatma Gandhi's wife, the other his secretary.

And the man himself was also there.

 

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Then I left the garden and went to town.

 

This is a typical block of flats around here:

 

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These are typical new houses around here:

 

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These are simply called 'autos'. They are immensely practical and much less unpleasant than they appear.

 

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This is where people bring their rubbish.

 

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Most of the bigger lorries are lovingly decorated.

 

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This man had quite a laugh when I papped his lorryshite. I think he thinks I'm an idiot. He is right.

 

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Ladders aren't made from aluminium here.

 

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These were the most ramshackle houses I've seen so far. Soon to be gentrified.

 

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I arrived at a bridge spanning a river.

 

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On the river bank was my breakfast bacon.

 

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A view from the bridge.

 

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This dog decided he doesn't want to use the bridge.

 

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On the other bank of the river were some steaks.

 

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And the city centre.

 

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This lorry brought water.

 

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This is a city bus.

 

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One of the white SUVs they are chucking out by the shitload.

 

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These are everywhere. They have some serious wantage attached.

 

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This was beige.

 

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This was brown.

 

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This was laden.

 

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No idea what these are, but there are millions of them.

 

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Another block of flats.

 

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This will never catch on.

 

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Improved* styling for the TN/T1.

 

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The Eicher brand still lives, albeit far from home.

 

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A white SUV.

 

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You can have an imported bike from anywhere you want, as long as you want it from Austria.

 

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A white SUV with lots of chrome.

 

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This looked delightfully shite.

 

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Shite gold in fact.

 

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Mahindras are usually impeccably maintained.

 

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A huge brown Renner SUV.

 

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This is for house moving.

 

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The first one I've ever seen in the flesh, and it's JRG!

 

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Kewl Enfield Bobber belonged to a nice guy I had a chat with.

 

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A school bus.

 

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Fancy this coming down your local high street?

 

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The guy I spoke to today (the one with the Bullet Bobber) owns a RE dealership.

He says he does export them to England, but only restored old ones. They take a '74 or earlier one (not stupid them, are they?) and completely strip and x-ray the frame for stress cracks. When found good, they do a nut and bolt restoration with factory fresh parts, so the end product is equivalent to a new one, or rather better. They then nail them into wooden shipping crates and send them to Southampton, including bill of lading, certificate of origin and certificate of age. Thus not one of his clients so far had to pay duties or a problem to register them in Blighty. The cost of this is about £2,500 for the bike and 200 postage.

 

He also said he would give one for free to anyone, who rides it back to England.

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Force apparently make engines for both Mercedes and BMW for the Indian market, and the old T1 Merc has even mutated into a wide body version, that looks like they took the standard panels, chopped them in half, and inserted 6 inches in the middle, and a fair few of those white SUVs are also made by Force. They look utterly miserable 

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Right.

Looks like it's going to be a hire Jeep next weekend, instead of two hired Bullets.

Turns out the other guy doesn't have a motorcycle licence. FFS? No motorcycle licence?

How on Earth anyone manages to be male and not have a motorcycle licence is beyond me.

Fucking poofs. Every fucking where.

Pisses me right off, that.

No motorcycle licence. My fucking hampster plays ice hockey.

 

I'm trying my valiantest to carve out a fucking living in this godforsdaken diaspora and then I still get torpedoed.

I despair.

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I found out why there is no old chod clogging up the streets. It is illegal to drive cars not complying with Euro 4 or later emission standards.

Old, i.e. classic cars, are only allowed to be driven to and from garages, to and from shows, or during rallys.

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It's India, i.e UN Agenda 21 rollout nationwide. The government tells the people what to drive, a bit like Cannock council does nowadays.

 

Sadly I'm not being paid in proper money, but it's at least that Monololy/Disney/Banksters/Goldman Sachs/Euro tosh.

I hope that hopeless Euro shit will retain some of its value until I can buy some terminally royal shite with it.

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You need a motorcycle licence to rent a motorbike in India?

That's new, I've rented bikes over there before and never once was asked for a licence.

 

It reminds me of buying some pills from a chemists over there, they asked for a prescription, I looked at them oddly said no and they sold them to me anyway.

 

Don't tell me they're making you play by the rules now on the subcontinent.

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Looks like it's going to be a hire Jeep next weekend, instead of two hired Bullets.

Turns out the other guy doesn't have a motorcycle licence. FFS? No motorcycle licence?

 

Can't he just buy one?

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