Because of the new itinerary, we added an unplanned stop to our route: Ahmedabad. In our book, it said that if you can look past the smog in the city, Ahmedabad is quite a nice place. There was a luxury bus going from Udaipur to Ahmedabad, and then a Shatabdi to Bombay the next day. We figured we could probably survive the bus and one night in a new city.

We booked two seats in the luxury tourist bus, which had regular bus seats with a row of sleeper bunks overhead. The seats worked in the normal fashion: one person, one seat. In the bunks, however, there were anywhere from four to eight people, all crammed in together, most of whom appeared to be strangers. The bus itself was like a Cambodian public bus, with a coating of grime covering everything, but this time, it also had a strong stench of feet. Mmm, delicious.

Having taken the non-luxury local buses in the north, we were prepared for a terrifying ride. Instead, we cruised along at regular and reasonable speeds on a brand-new, Western style highway, through the reddish desert of Rajasthan and the green fields of Gujarat. In what seemed like no time (barring the scent of foot), we were there.

As we were leaving, we met an inquisitive American woman who asked us where we were going, and when we told her, she wrinkled her nose and said, WHY? The pollution there is SO BAD! Good luck! I fought back the urge to punch her in the eye and we continued on our way. As it turned out, the pollution in Ahmedabad didn’t seem bad at all. It was everything else.

When we got off the bus, we were immediately approached by the rickshaw dudes. They promptly charged us the princely sum of 140 rupees and we climbed in the back. We drove through town with no more exhaust inhalation than normal, and then stopped at a different hotel than we requested. No, we said. Yes! Good hotel! they cried. And then the manager came out. At this point, T got hard and said No, take us to the Hotel Alka!  They grimaced, said, You will not like that hotel–this hotel much better, and then took us to the Hotel Alka.

Oh, the Hotel Alka. To begin with, it looked as if it had already been condemned. It was across the road from a row of stinking dumpsters and was above a series of auto repair stores. We walked into the building, through the urine stench on the ground floor, past the betel spit stains on the stairwell, and up to the hotel. I was misled by the Hotel Alka because it had a New Yorker in the lobby. It was the first hotel I had seen with any kind of American magazines in it, let alone one that I actually read.

The rickshaw dudes were so convinced that we would hate the Hotel Alka that they sat around and waited for us to check out the room. The room was tolerable, with clean-ish sheets and towels and cable TV, so we took it. Finally, we were rid of the creepy rickshaw men and the proud residents of a $10/night hotel room. 

So we went out for lunch. We walked around the corner to a restaurant and ordered some food. As the place cleared out, we ended up talking to the maitre d. I should say that I talked to him because T had his back to him and the man couldnt understand anything T said. Join the club, brother. After a while, the man makes muscle movements with his arms and looks at me and says You are strong, healthy. I am skinny man. Um, thank you? Once more, my enormity in India has been reinforced.

We saw a little of Ahmedabad, but to be honest, we didn’t have the inclination to wander too much. The city is very Muslim, and we saw a couple of the mosques, but spent most of our time in our room or in an Internet cafe with outrageously cheap prices. On the streets, we saw a collection of all kinds of people: Hindus, Muslims, Jains. Jains are strict vegans, to the point that some of them wear face masks to keep from accidentally eating bugs.

After dusk, we went back to our room. The Hotel Alka was even more intimidating at night than it was in the day, and I was afeered for our lives. Once we got back to our room, we relaxed a little, until we went to bed and in the quiet, I noticed a strange smell and started to fear creepy crawlies.

Ahmedabad was fine for one night, and I’m sure that there is far more loveliness to be seen, but I was perfectly happy to say goodbye.