22 Oct 2017. Last night the doctor came by our room to confirm the appointments for today. Matt was rescheduled for a very early appointment at 07:30, because he had a cooking lesson at 14:30. The doctor suggested that mine be also moved to 07:30. I said no, thank you. 09:00 as planned was just perfect. He repeated it. I said no, I’m happy with 09:00. He finally said, the thing is: 07:30 would be better for their scheduling, or I could do the afternoon. I asked if there was no possibility to keep it the same. He made funny noises and they seemed to mean no. So I agreed, albeit unhappily. Then he said, “Madam, you should say if that won’t be ok for you.” I sat back, laughed at him, and said that I was pretty sure that I just had, but that he had told me there was no other possibility unless I wanted to commit to all day onsite by agreeing to afternoon. He looked surprised, and made some more noise accompanied by the head waggling that if you’ve every been to India, you will be familiar with. Finally I had a thought: what time in the afternoon was possibly? Anytime after 14:00, Madam. Ok, then: I’ll have my treatment while Matt is in his cooking lesson, so that we are both ready to leave for our last day in Mysore after we’re both finished. OK. The doctor wrote it down on my schedule: 14:30. We also discussed a change, since yesterday’s scrub had been too intense for my skin: finer scrub powder.
So imagine our surprise when the doorbell rang at 07:30 and it wasn’t Matt’s therapist, but a woman to collect me. Matt tried to tell her that there was a mistake, but she was very insistent. We showed her the doctor’s scheduling change, and she wanted to call him. She came into the bedroom, where I glowered at her. She picked up the phone, pushed a button, then put it down again and left. I didn’t fall asleep again after Matt left with his therapist. Instead, I read a book until he returned, then we went to breakfast. After breakfast, I went for a swim. Then lunch. Then another swim. Then it was time for my treatment and Matt’s cooking class.
My scrub, even with the finer powder, was too much. The therapist (not my usual wonderful one) agreed that my skin was too sensitive, so we went to reception and changed my last appointment for tomorrow to a regular Abhyanga relaxation massage. Then I went back to my room, took a shower, and Matt and I went into town.
Waiting for the Ova, I made a new best friend.
Derek had gone out early for a shopping day. Abbie had joined him in the late morning when her treatments were done. Matt and I went to a couple of stores and did a little last-minute shopping before joining them at Mysore Palace for the Sunday evening illuminations. We got into place just before they lit up:
And then as I clicked the next picture, all the lights went up to the accompaniment of the crowd’s exclamations.
Loads of people were there to see the lights, and again we were asked into selfies.
When we left, we noticed the lights on all the carriages that we’d seen before. Some of them were really glammed out, with music blaring.
We walked to a restaurant recommended on TripAdvisor, but it had moved. A tuktuk driver took us to the new location, but it was completely lacking ambience, so we walked down the road from there to a rooftop restaurant that was much more our style.
A typical thing that happens sometimes when you ask for something: Abbie and I ordered the same cocktail off the menu. The waiter waggled his head and wrote something down. Matt ordered a different cocktail and Derek ordered a beer. Derek’s beer arrived. A few minutes later, Matt’s cocktail arrived. A few minutes later all the food arrived. We asked about our cocktails. We said the name. The waiter looked shocked, brought us the menu, and asked which one we meant. We pointed at the one we’d ordered, the Tequila Chili. He said, “Tequila Sunrise?” No… this one: Tequila Chili. He looked very upset. Again he asked Tequila Sunrise? Again, no. Tequila Chili. Finally the other waiter said, “we don’t have Tequila Chili. Do you want a Tequila Sunrise?” Ah, no. “Tequila then?” Uh, definitely no. I ordered a beer. Abbie ordered nothing. We’ve learned that they don’t really like telling you a negative answer to a question. They’d rather waggle their heads and walk away and hope it doesn’t come up again. Meanwhile, we’re confused and trying to figure out what we’re supposed to ask to get a clearer answer.
We went back and skipped cocktails tonight, in favor of sleep and packing. Tomorrow is our last day!