Two types of people

Shimla, Sunday 20 January 2013

Like anywhere, it seems that the less people have, the more willing they are to share. I had a good reminder of this on Friday. I decided to have dinner in a restaurant on the Ridge (a long, level piece of ground stretching along the centre of Shimla) - in fact, the restaurant used to be a bandstand. We do love a good bandstand, us Britishers.

Anyway, I sat down and ordered. Looking around the room, there were two other parties dining, and both had heaters propped in front of them. I was pretty cold, with my cold and still wet feet, and asked the waiter if he had any more heaters. It was clear they hadn't, but after a conflab with the guy at the reception desk, he came back over and shifted round the heater that was pointing at the Indian party behind me, so that we could hopefully all get a bit of its heat. Immediately, one of the overfed middle-class men in the party protested with the waiter, who gestured towards me and quietly explained, presumably, in Hindi that I was cold. That bore no beef with Fatty and so I motioned to the waiter to put the heater back where it was. To add to it, Fatty then said, 'Thank you' in English. Get stuffed, mate. Let the big hog roast. Anyway, the next thing, the power went out and the heaters went off anyhow! Karma in action. What goes around comes around. I pulled out my headtorch and ate on, while Fatty and co sat in the dark until the waiters turned up with some candles, about five minutes later.

I wandered back to the YMCA. But the door was locked and it was in darkness. I'd wondered if they locked the place up but didn't ask. It was about 9.30pm by this stage. I knocked the door and called out, 'Hello'. No one. What would I do? Hang around in the hope that another guest would appear with a key? Or go and find another hotel? I looked further up along the patio and saw some light. Perhaps I could get someone's attention. There was no need. The light was coming from the main door of the hotel, which was further up. What a cretin, standing banging at some side door. I went in and there was no one on reception. I heard voices coming from down the hall and went into a large room, with table-tennis tables and a TV, switched off, at the back. A group of men were huddled round the fire. A couple of them immediately got up and made room for me, pulling up another seat for me, and moving further back from the fire themselves to let me in. A few were hotel staff, and three were guests. We'd a great hour or so's craic until the power went off and we all retired to bed. They shared their hospitality and their heat.