OK. Make sure you're sitting down for this.

Funny how everything can change in just a moment.

I finished my last blog with time to spare at the cyber cafe.
Sarah was out horse-back riding around the lakes of Udaipur.
Ronalee was busy cyber-rejecting neurotic-sounding people who had responded to her e-mail ad looking for a prospective roomate for next year.
Judy's morning tea had hit her bowels so she had gone back to our hostel to, as I like to say in my silly French accent, "faire un poopie."

That left me to my own devices.

I was just about to walk out of the cyber cafe to do some more shopping when I caught sight of the international telephone booth. I checked my watch. It was midnight in Calgary. My parents might be asleep already and it seemed I had missed my chance to call home yet again.

I was about to give up, walk on and buy me some Rajasthani shoes and skirts but something inside me told me to try calling home anyways. Come to think of it, in all my months in India, I'd only called home once for a one minute conversation with my dad who was half asleep anyways.

I walked in the booth and dialled.
beepbeepboop boop boop beeeeeeeeeeeeeep

"Nyello?"
It was my older sister Karen sounding super groggy. I hadn't heard her voice in months.
"Karen? It's me. Vivian."
"Vivian? What? You're still alive?"
"Ha. Ha."
"So? How's it going?"

It was a simple question, which could easily have been answered with a "great! It's going great down here! I've seen and done the craziest stuff!"

but instead, I found myself saying,
"I-I'm kinda feeling tired out and just sick of travelling today. I was thinking of coming home early."

I prepared myself for a speech from her about how I should stick it out and how I'd regret missing out on the adventures I'd have down here if I didn't tough it out. Before I even completed my sentence though, she went,
"Girl! You should totally come home! Mom and dad miss you like crazy and Joanne, our little cousins, your nephew AND Tim [Karen's new love of her life] are gonna visit us at the beginning of August. Man, it's not worth it to travel if you're missing out on all of us and you're not even enjoying it anymore. Come home! What are you doing down there? Is it really worth it?"

I was stunned.


"Mom's been missing you like crazy! She won't stop talking about you. Neither will dad!"

This, I had to confess, touched me deeply. I guess it's normal for parents to miss their kids if they're away in India for three months but still, I was shocked.
My parents have never been googly-woogly, uber affectionate, hug-you-for-no-reason type parents. Sure, I knew they probably missed me - but I never expected them to admit it!!!

Karen ran upstairs and woke up my mom, despite my pleas that she just let our parents get their well-deserved rest, and I chatted to my parents and got a huge lump in my throat. Instead of being pissed off that I'd called so late, they talked to me like I was their favoritest daughter ever.

Maybe I should have tried calling home more often.

I'd already decided it five seconds into the call, but that confirmed it. I was going home.

What the hell was I doing down here anyway? Udaipur and Rajasthan are beautiful places full of beautiful buildings, lakes and animals . . . and I wasn't enjoying it anymore. Well, while I was walkign around and site-seeing, I was content enough, but as soon as I stopped and got some time to think. As soon as I checked my e-mails and read about the news and what's going on elsewhere in the world, I'd get this feeling like I was in the wrong place. Like I was missing out on what really counts in this world.

Gosh it sounds cheesey like that, but anyways, that's what I felt!

I hung up the phone and paid the bill. I'd only been on for 10 minutes, but it was the most important 10 minutes of my summer.

I walked back to the hotel to find Judy and Ronalee waiting for me on the stairs. "So? You called home? What's new?" asked Ronalee. She was smoking a cigarette and leaning against the railing.

I was still in the aftershocks of my phone call and it took me a while to find my voice.
Judy and Ronalee looked at me expectantly.

"I've decided to change around my whole summer."

I told them my plan.

"WHAT?!" They both said and gawked at me,"that-that's crazy!"
"I know! I always doing impulsive crazy things like this, but I've decided and I'm going to go home early. I'm done here. We're not doing any good and I'm not learning anything new."

They looked down and had to agree. Ronalee confessed that she'd been thinking of leaving early too. Judy piped up she'd like more time back home before school started.

" I'm tired of this place and my sisters and family are visiting Calgary the first week of August. I'd really like to see them. I also want to see Gabe in Australia first."

I thought about it for a while. Today was the 13th of July - that left me just over two weeks between now and the beginning of August when I'd need to get back to Canada to make it in time to see Jo and my little cousins.

"So when are you going to Australia?" asked Judy breathlessly.

Two and a half weeks left between now and august.

"Um, tomorrow?"

There was silence for a good three seconds.

"Man, I need another smoke. OH MY GOSH." said Ronalee.
"Tomorrow? Ho my goodness! I think I'm going to cry!" said Judy and tried to compose herself. I guess we'd all been feeling it, but I was actually going to go forward with it.

They started to get really excited about it and we all decided that what we needed was some chai and chocolate cake- stat.

Sarah returned from riding and we informed her of my change of plans. Of the three of them, I was most nervous about telling her as she organized our itinerary and I was scared that my choices would screw up everyone's itineraries for the rest of the trip.

She stood there silently blinking for a bit and then, ever-practical, said, "Of course it's fine! Well, you should call Malaysain airlines right away. Here, I'll get you the number. Oh man! It's your summer and your decision totally. Don't worry about it."

The rest of my day was spent in travel offices desperately trying to book a ticket to Sydney. All flights were full. I managed to get a ticket to Mumbai, and was told to try my luck at the ticket counters in airport for last minute tickets when I arrived.

We went to a little hovel of a restaurant that night and watched "Octopussy" and ate mashed potatoes and bad Korean food. None of us can stomach Indian food again yet.
"It's your last dinner in India! I can't beleive it!"
I couldn't believe it myself.
"It's going to be so different without you."
We all silently contemplated that comment for a while.

We tried not to get too sentimental and instead, enjoyed the film and walked back to our hotel that night like nothing was out of the usual.

I couldn't sleep a wink. If all went well and I got a ticket when I got to Mumbai the next day, I'd be seeing Gabe in less than 48 hours. I was getting out. I WAS GETTIN' OUT, MAN!

It seemed like two seconds after I'd finally fallen asleep that my alarm rang. It was 6:30am. I began packing and dressing quietly so as not to wake Sarah in the room. Suddenly, there was a loud knocking on the door.

It was my taxi driver that I'd booked the night before. I checked my watch. It was only 6:45am.

"Crap! You're early!"
"I wait out in street!YOU COME DOWN TO STREET!" he shouted at me and stormed down teh stairs.

Sarah was awake by then and I told her my ride was early and that I'd have to rush. I packed in a whirlwind and tried not to forget anything. I gave her a quick hug goodbye and told her I'd see her in the fall. It was surreal.

I went and knocked on Judy and Ronalee's door. Judy answered and looked dishevelled. She gave me a silent hug and told me Ronalee would come out to say goodbye but she was puking in the toilet. Must have been something she ate- a good reminder of yet another reason I should leave. Ronalee swung open the door to their bathroom and waved weakly at me from her hunched position.
"Take care!"
"You too!"
"Good luck in Mumbai!"
"You guys too!"

And with that . . . I was off.

Off on a new adventure- all on my own.
I was all by myself. In India.

I got to the Udaipur airport OK and survived the severe security checks. A man with a giant rifle stopped our taxi and climbed into the back seat with me to make sure I wasn't smuggling anything illegal intot he airport.
After the bombings two days ago, security to get to Mumbai has been insane.
I got shoved into a curtained room with a female guard and patted down- REALLY patted down- they have no respect for personal space in India, and then got my bags scanned no less than three times.

I lost count of the number of scary looking men with guns patrolling around. Somewhere in my brain, I remembered reading from my "safe travellers" manual that an increase in the number of men carrying arms out in the open was a bad thing. I shrugged and ignored that thought.

My flight from Udaipur to Mumbai was bumpy and I was stuck beside a man with severe claustrophobia. Three flight attendants were required to calm him down and in the end, he had to take his medication and use a handkerchief to soak up all the sweat on his forehead before we could take off. I tried to squish myself up in my seat to give him as much space as possible but he dropped his meds at one point and I had to lean over to help him pick it up as he was shaking so badly.

Whatever. I made it to Mumbai alive.
I flew into the domestic flights airport and had to get myself to the international terminal to try to book myself a last-minute flight to Sydney.
More security checks. More guns. More frisking.

I got to the ticket counter after much misadventure. I got sent from counter to counter and level after level of the airport. I was carrying all my luggage and then some and I was sweating so much that my shirt (which I just newly bought) turned clear. I lost my hair elastic and my loose, wet hair clung to my neck and back.

Try walking past a group of 40 muslim men in a clinging, clear shirt with your hair down. NOT COOL.

Anyhow, much leering later, I made it to the ticket counter and was informed . . . that I wouldn't make it out of Mumbai until tomorrow at the earliest and even then I'd be stuck in Singapore as they had no flights between Singapore and Sydney.

I stared at them in dumb silence.

I'm not sure if it was the expression on my face or if it was my clear shirt or what but the ticket-counter guy took pity on me and promised me to look harder.

He looked . . . and looked . . . and looked.

An hour passed, then two, then three.

"You eat yet? Maybe you go to canteen for food?" said the ticket counter guy. I was shoving my face full of a melted chocolate bar I'd found at the bottom of my backpack. I hadn't eaten anything since the disgusting chapatti they gave me ont he plane that morning. I must have looked pathetic.
"Better you go to snack bar. It's cleaner for you. You come back, I keep looking for flight for you."

I thanked him and wiped the chocolate crumbs off my face and dress and with as much dignity as I cuold muster, wandered to find more food.

I returned but no ticket had turned up. Every airline between Mumbai and Sydney was booked full for the next three days.

I almost broke down then and there. Some Canadian guy from Montreal walked into the ticket office. He sat down beside me.
"You from Korea? Japan?"
"No. Canada."
"Oh! Thailand! Great country, I-"
"NO! CANADA!"

Sigh, even the Canadians are confusing me for a Japani here. I felt like I was going to cry.

"Sorry madame. Nothing earlier than July 20th."

I seriously thought about running head first into the plaster wall beside me.

"YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND!" I finally broke out. "I have to get back to Canada by the first week of August! My sister's coming in from England! But I NEED to go to Australia! My fiance lives there."
The two men, the ticket counter guy and the poor french Canadian guy, looked at me in the stunned way men always look at women who are breaking down.

"MY FIANCE! I haven't seen him since DECEMBER. If I don't see him now, I will only see him for TWO WEEKS in this entire year. TWO. WEEKS. The sooner I get to Sydney, the more time I have with him this year. I NEED TO GET TO SYDNEY AS SOON AS POSSIBLE!!!!!"

I finished the last sentence and realised I was out of breath.

The Montreal guy blinked at me a few times. "That's harsh man."
*huff huff*
"I know."

The airline ticket guy looked frazzled and genuinely sorry for me. He tried calling a few more agents.
Eventually, I just had to accept it.

I was about ready to admit defeat and walk out when the airline ticket guy perked up and bit and called me back.


"Madame. I am try my best here. Maybe, maybe you can just get a ticket to Malaysia or Hong Kong or Singapore and try again there? Maybe they have more airlines and flights direct to Sydney from there? I can get you ticket to Kuala Lampur or Hong Kong tonight."

I thought about it. At least it would get me closer.

At least it would get me the hell out of India.

"ALright. Which one is closer to Sydney? Malaysia or Hong Kong?"
"KL."
"Get me a ticket."

I walked out of the office a few hours later (their credit card machines weren't working- another long story for another time).

"Good luck!" the french Canadian guy and the ticket counter guy shouted after me.

I turned back as I was walking out the door.
"Thanks."
And walked out.

That was two hours ago. My flight for Kuala Lampur leaves Mumbai in another three hours. I still dont have a ticket to Sydney but at least I'm getting out. I've been checking Malaysian airlines but it seems all the flights to Sydney tomorrow are full.

I'm gonna need all the luck I can get. Especially as I still have to get through security here at Mumbai and somehow not get grope-searched again. The ticket coutner guy was nice enough to book me my electronic tourist visa for Australia in the seven hours I spent moping in his office so hopefully, at least that is sorted out.


So to Malaysia I go.

Funny how everything changes in a moment.


Everyone, keep your fingers crossed for me. Who knows when . . . or where . . . you'll hear from me next.


*Deep breath*

I'm off.

Till we meet again,
Viv the world-wide misadventurer


PS: Oh great, antoher bunch of men with giant guns just came in and asked to look at my black duffle bag. Apparently it was just a foot too far away from me and looked like it was abandoned. Yeesh.






PPS: i guess I'm sending those post cards from australia . . . or malayasia. sorry folks.

PPPS: ok. now I'm really off. here we go.