Can you get meat withdrawal and thus crave it? I’m not sure, but I certainly felt like you could. After almost two weeks of eating nothing but various pulses, cheeses and vegetables in curried sauces I wanted some plain and simple meat and two veg, ah how British!
Earlier in the day this had lead me to one of the unholy shrines of western capitalism: KFC, where I indulged in a Zinger burger meal which tasted like shit! I don’t know what I was expecting, but it certainly didn’t satisfy me! It did however, fill a small hole in my stomach and allow for a day of sightseeing.
After visiting Humayuns Tomb, an interesting shrine in southern Delhi which was a forerunner for the Taj Mahal we were back in Connaught Place and I was grazing for meat! Settling on a TGI Fridays, oh dear, I had the most meat available on the menu. In this case chicken and bacon, hardly a mixed grill, but it was the best I could do given the cows sacred status! Don’t get me wrong I’m not questioning their sanctity, but they are more sacred in the form of a nice 12oz rump slathered in a pepper sauce!
With my craving for meat satisfied we relaxed and settled into watching India v Bermuda. This was a crunch match for India’s World Cup aspirations following the dismal performance against Bangladesh, which according to the Hindustan Times had lead to the ‘death of one fan in Bangalore from cardiac arrest’. Cricket is not to be trifled with in these parts!
The game didn’t start well with India losing a cheap wicket early on to a generously proportioned Bermudan; the atmosphere in the bar was palpable. Things began to improve however and we got talking to a guy sitting at the other end of the bar. His name was Russell and he turned out to be a Goan who had lived most of his life in Dubai and had the strangest accent I have ever heard. Having been brought up on English by Irish teachers in Dubai and living in Scotland for 8 years he had the queerest mix of Irish and Scottish accents with a little Indian thrown in for good measure.
Just as we were to bid the guy goodnight and get some sleep he offered to buy us a round. We should have declined, having already drank three and a half pints of Kingfisher with the heat not helping my tolerance one bit. Every time we tried to leave another beer appeared on the bar and I finally succumbed. In the end we had had four more beers, all on his purse, and had watched India destroy Bermuda and set a new world record, 413 – 5. The Indians were elated and chants of ‘boo ya In-dia, boo ya In-dia’ rang through the bar. We finished our last beer and stumbled out into the night, bidding farewell to the philanthropic Goan before falling into a Rickshaw.
