Now, Galleria is an 'interesting' place - as many are in India. The link below provides a description which suffers from a syndrome I am finding is quite common here in India, and that is that it is utterly fantasy driven. It's almost as if they believe that if they write that it is like that then it will be that way in reality. Honestly, reading this you'd expect to never want to leave the place once you got there ... this certainly isn't our experience to date. One really has to marvel at the Photoshop skills of the person who provided the images and also has to wonder just what the author was smoking when they wrote the article ...
Galleria Market Place .....
In the summer heat the central plaza is simply an oven. If it is around 40c in the shade then heaven knows what the temp gets to in the sun. Simply put it is hot enough to bake ones brains in ones skull within minutes....
This particular Sunday we were fotunate in that the temp had peaked at a 'cooler' 36.5c. The driver triple parked to drop us off then beetled off to find a parking spot somewhere in the shade ...
Our first stop was Sugar 'n' Spice and yes there was a range of imported produce, including coffee beans - yowsers tres expensive! The shop was a really a long skinny cupboard crammed with people and very hot but hey, this is India! We stocked up and went off to find the butcher. I walked in and took a sniff as I checked out the meat on offer. Hmmm, having been suffering with Delhi Belly for the previous week didn't help my first impressions. I bought a few packs of locally made sausages which were very fresh but declined to sample anything else on offer.
Lugging six bags of shopping plus the very heavy UPS, Chris and I made our way out to the entrance and called the driver. No answer .... okay, maybe he's away from the car, we'll give him 10 minutes and try again. Which we did ..... over and over and over for the next 70 minutes. There was no response at all. After the first 15 minutes I had found myself a seat under a tree and had planted myself there to wait ... as you do in India. I passed the time checking emails and posting on facebook and trying not to get tooooo wild. I was so relieved that Geri wasn't with us...
When the hour mark clicked over Chris started talking about using a Trishaw to get home. NO WAY! I am not going on one of those things on those roads!!!! I was getting a trifle 'grumpy' by this stage as I was overheating and hence began suffering a total sense of humour failure. Poor Chris was watching me closely and trying to gauge just how close I was to total nuclear meltdown. I'm certain he was dreading the dropping of the "I've had enough and am going home" bomb. Eventually he went to see if he could find the driver; with no luck, however he did come back with some cold bottled water which was wonderful.
... and they're off ... Finally reality bit and I accepted that we had no other option but to take a Trishaw. Oh joy! Chris went off to negotiate and once he had agreed on a price I staggered over with our loot. As everything was loaded aboard I marveled at the poor, scrawny little guy who had been game enough to take on six bags of groceries, a large UPS and two huge Europeans. We set off down the road at a fairly sedate pace and after a few minutes I had to grudgingly admit to myself that I was almost enjoying myself ...
We traveled at a sedate (poor, poor man!) pace for about one kilometer during which time I looked around and gave thanks once again that Geri wasn't with us and that the road we were on was a quiet (for Gurgaon) one. Glancing over to the right I couldn't believe my eyes when I spotted what I thought was our car. I grabbed Chris' arm and pointed frantically as I sputtered at him to tell the Trishaw driver to stop. Said driver finally did stop; totally confused, and watched in horror as Chris leaped out of the Trishaw and ran over the road to our car.
Trishaw guy turned to me; totally confused, and exclaimed "NO taxi, No taxi!" I tried to make him understand that that was our car but he just looked at me as if I was stark raving mad - hmmm, maybe he wasn't too far off the mark! I finally got him to understand (I think) that he just needed to wait and we watched Chris trying to wake our driver; Saroj, up. He bashed on the windows, venting the frustration that had built up over the last hour and a half. Slowly, slowly the noise penetrated the impermeable cocoon of sleep that Saroj had woven around himself. He cracked open an eye and when the realisation that it was 'Sir' bashing on the window and that 'Sir' was looking very irate he erupted out of the car and proceeded to look very confused about why we hadn't phoned him to pick us up!!!! GARG!!! His level of mortification increased exponentially when he he spotted me perched in the Trishaw.
Chris came back over the road, paid off the Trishaw guy and we transferred everything to the car before proceeding back to Central Park. The tension in the car was palpable and on arriving back at the apartment 'Ma'am' made it perfectly clear that she was beyond angry - no smile, no eye contact, death ray vibes humming.
For the whole of the following week, Saroj waited for the axe to fall. You see, his transgression was a fire-able offense. Now, there's no way we would get him fired for this. He'd never done it before and goodness knows how many people rely on him and his income.We just hoped it would never happen again and decided to let it go. Unfortunatley, it did happen again the following weekend. This time we had been at a major hotel for lunch and Saroj once again disappeared off the face of the planet. After waiting for 30 minutes (inside in the A/C thank heavens) a customer services employee; who knew Chris well, let us hire (for a nominal fee) one of the hotel limos to get home. An hour after we got home Saroj called, wondering where we were.... hmmmm...... no comment.
One major ramification of these incidents is that I don't feel I can trust Saroj to be there when I need him to be when I am out with Geri; not that we've been out much so far, as we've been too sick. This means that I can only take her out to somewhere that I know has good A/C but even that wouldn't be safe if she was reacting. So we are restricted to Ambiance Mall which is attached to the Leela Hotel. The staff at the hotel know us and know that Geri is sick so would do everything they could to help in an emergency and whilst this is reassuring, it is somewhat restrictive to say the least. I guess only time will tell if Saroj blots his copybook again ...
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