BlankWell, it won't suprise you to learn that I am back in a train again!
But before I introduce you to my erstwhile travelling companion, let me tell
you about what happened when we arrived in India this afternoon.
First of all, as I said in my last entry, we arrived two days ahead of
schedule and with our train not due to leave until this evening I decided
that it was only fair to let Passepartout have a little explore of the
capital of India whilst I made myself known to the consul and have a little
refreshment. I opted for the local speciality in the restaurant of Bombay
station and after what seemed some rather fractious dicussions in the
kitchen, the waiter brought out a large dish which he announced as "rabbit".
I have to say that if that was a rabbit it was the strangest one I had ever
seen and queried what type of rabbit it was. "Jungle Rabbit, honourable
sir", he replied. I, personally had my doubts and so asked whether or not
this "jungle rabbit" had ever meowed. The waiter looked at me in a very
confused manner and repeated my question and then tried to convince me that
it was indeed a rabbit. I have to state that I knew better and when he
started to say "I swear" I came down on him like a tonne of bricks and told
him not to swear and that there was a time when cats were sacred in India
and that when that was the case it was a good time. "For the cats?" asked
the waiter, "and the travellers!" I replied before tucking into my meal
which is one dish I will not be recommending to the Reform Club catering
department!
After my meal I found the platform that our train was leaving from and as it
was only a few minutes to go, decided to stand on the platform and wait for
Passepartout to arrive. And my word, I have never seen anyone arrive at a
train platform looking so roughed up. He looked as though he'd entered a
bare knuckle fight and was the winner. Anyway, I ushered him onto the train
and we left Bombay at the right time (still preserving our two day lead).
And who should I find on board, but my old travelling companion Brigadier
Sir Francis Cromarty. It turns out that not only did he use the same ship to
get from Suez to Bombay but is also using the same train to get to Benares.
So it only seems fair for him (as he will be our companion for the next few
days) to say a few words, himself. Brigadier?
I say, Mr. Fogg, this is a clever invention, eh, what? Sorry? Oh, it's
started already. (coughs) Good evening, allow me to introduce myself, my
name is Brigadier Sir Francis Cromarty, commander in chief of Her Majesty's
Garrison at Benares in British India. As Mr. Fogg has pointed out already, I
first met Mr. Fogg on the Mongolia and having lost several pounds to him in
a game of shuffleboard know that Mr. Fogg is a true Englishman and that if
anyone can travel around the world in eighty days it will be him.
Oh, Brigadier, do stop it. You're embarrasing me in front of all those
people in the future who will read this. Anyway, that's the Brigadier and it
was he who commented on Passepartout's appearance. And what Passepartout
said did I have to admit send a slight shiver down my spine. It turns out
that he saw a very impressive building and being naturally curious decided
to have a look. What he didn't know what that the impressive building was a
pagoda belong to a religious order whose codes of existance are protected by
British law and one of those codes include the descreation of temples.
Something that Passepartout had done by simply having a look. Thankfully,
Mr. Fix (which I believe to be a false name anyway) isn't anywhere to be
seen, but I have this unshakeable feeling that even now he may be up to
something about that incident that could cause me a major crisis. Still,
let's not worry about that now shall we and get on with my journey to
Calcutta. Shouldn't take more than about three days thanks to this rail link
between the two cities. More than enough time for a few games of whist, eh,
Brigadier?
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Received on Mon 23 Oct 2006 - 07:38:19 IST