A trip down memory lane: the year was 1998, and it was my first ever exciting फ़ौरन trip! The destinations were right out of a romantic Bollywood movie: France, Switzerland and Italy.
It was an official trip, and I was without Nidhi. Vanya wasn’t even born yet! I had a blast visiting various french towns near the quaint town of Saint Genis Pouilly, my company’s office.
Paris’s siren song called to me, and on a weekend, all alone, I decided to visit the romantic city. I had a shoe string budget, and with the help of a french colleague (Remy), I was able to find a €30 steal for room and board with a shared restroom.
Exploring the Louvre, Centre Pompidou was exhilarating, fun, and super tiring (in a happy way).
Next weekend, I had to report alone into our Milan office. I took a train to Milan. I still remember feeling a bit cold and chilly waiting in the railway station, and marveled at the closed waiting room lobby in the station (totally different than waiting on an open platform in India).
Little did I realize the danger of the dreaded western cold and flu season at that time. As the train sauntered in, I took a seat in the coach, and for the first time felt racism of being brown skinned in Europe. Every one else who were waiting room with me sat further apart, and I am not talking just different rows, but 4-5 rows apart.
I reached Milan in the evening, and was already feeling a bit squeamish and under the weather. I had requested to stay in the downtown (instead of a hotel near the office), as I wanted to have a “feel” the city. My company travel agent had graciously obliged my request.
Next morning, the nightmare err adventure started. I woke up tired with a raging bout of temperature. I was weak and dehydrated (the sparkly bubbly water I was consuming in europe wasn’t doing it for me). And I carried no medicines from back home with me.
The waiter who brought in the room service breakfast (which I did not eat finally), took one look at my face, and panicked. Apparently, he went and told the hotel manager that I was sick and had spots on my face. Next thing I remember is that nurses knocked on my hotel door, and shipped me off to a government hospital. In my weakened state, I could not even protest.
Luckily for me, the doctors at the hospital figured out that I had a viral along with a harmless rash. To this day, I suspect it was the coughing person in the Saint-Genis train station.
I was sent back to the hotel, and lied there in my room in a stupor, waiting for the fever to subside. I got enough strength to call back home and talk to Nidhi, and she was super concerned that I was ill and alone in Milan hotel fighting off the fever.
Unknown to me, Nidhi complained about the situation (me being alone in Milan downtown hotel) directly to my manager in India, and demanded that I be brought back to Saint-Genis where there were more company employees.
Nidhi’s demand bore fruit, and my manager hired a Mercedes Benz (another first for me, as I got to sit in a premium german car!) to transport me back to Saint-Genis from Milan. The taxi driver was a kind fellow. I was afraid that he would fear my fever and rashes, but he took it all in stride. He was concerned though. The Swiss & French border police would be very strict, and probably not allow me in the country if they felt I was sick with a communicable disease. He gave me tips on how to navigate the Swiss border checks, and how much to lower my window. I think my luck was rising, and we were allowed entry into Swistzerland, and later into Saint-Genis France.
Finally, I was back into the hotel in Saint-Genis, and was reunited with my colleagues from India. I got khichdi made for me, and it was the best meal in the 3 or so days of my bout with sickness abroad.
The rest of the trip was uneventful, and I was very happy to land back in India to the arms of loving Nidhi!
