You may have seen the following ad which has been wriggling its way into the "Comments" sections of various blogs:-
Being an inquisitive chap, I decided to contact the sender who it turns out was a Mr Achetbir Singh, a Sikh gentleman who resides in a small apartment close to the Worli Fort in Mumbai with views of Dadar Beach and Mumbai Bay.
Achetbir was surprised to receive my call. Apparently, his famous "Mumbai Escorts" advertisement has not generated much business. However, as soon as he realised that I was contemplating a sentimental trip to Mumbai, taking advantage of one of the various escort opportunities, his brain quickly switched into overdrive.
I asked him about fees, accommodation in Mumbai and how we might meet. He asked me which branch of his escort agency I wished to plump for and I selected "Mumbai Escorts Services", simply because I prefer place names to begin with capital letters.
Wind the clock forward forty eight hours and the lights of Chhatrapati Shivaji International Airport are coming into view. It has been a trouble-free flight during which I have dozed or devoted waking hours to reading "Travel Mumbai" by Shalu Sharma.
Tired, I queued at passport control as cooling fans whirred overhead and the bing-bong of the public address system preceded various travel announcements delivered in thick Indian accents.
I had arrived in Bombay...or Mumbai as it is now called for some obscure reason. My parents had separately arrived here by troop ship in the early years of World War II ahead of their wartime service with the Royal Air Force and I was keen to explore the city, walking in their footsteps with the help of one of Mr Singh's knowledgeable escorts.
After picking up my suitcase from Carousel Number 7, I headed for the arrivals gate. There was much commotion and various brown-faced fellows were yelling or flourishing cardboard signs. Several men were wearing turbans and then I spotted a bearded bloke in an orange turban waving a sign that read "YORKSURE PUDINGE". Such appalling spelling! It was Mr Achetbir Singh.
"Welcome to Mumbai Mr Pudinge," he grinned before ushering me away into the sultry Mumbai night. He smelt of turmeric and used Indian banknotes. One of his front teeth had been capped with gold.
TO BE CONTINUED
I think the comments are more interesting than Ursulas
ReplyDeleteI very much doubt that Ursula manages an escort agency.
DeleteI have a feeling you ended up having "an unforgettable Mumbai Escort experience" but it may not have been the one intended . . .
ReplyDeleteWaiting impatiently for the next instalment!
All will be revealed as they say...so avert your eyes fair maiden.
DeleteOh my....something tells me this is going to be good!
ReplyDeleteIf you are hoping for raunchy porn you need to go elsewhere Bonnie!
DeleteOkay, you've got me hooked. There a dozen ways this thing could go. I know you give no hints!
ReplyDeleteSee my reply to Bonnie!
DeleteDo used Indian bank notes smell different to other used bank notes and how did you get to be familiar with the aroma?
ReplyDeleteGood question!
DeleteI have been to India before and many of the banknotes were very old and grubby - as if they had passed through a thousand sweaty palms. I hope that answers your question Detective Inspector Tai.
DeleteMumbai Escorts have been offering their services on my blog occasionally, too. If your travelogue piques my interest, I may make use if them myself. But first, I shall contact Ripon Escorts to take care of my and my sister's touristy needs later this month.
ReplyDeleteYou and your mysterious sister know Ripon well so you could advertise yourselves as escorts for the period of your holiday. I am sure that there would be much interest from local farmers and maybe the town crier too.
DeleteI'd never quite thought of you as impulsive but there you are. Who ever can tell?
ReplyDeleteI had been thinking about visiting Bombay for ages.
DeleteI wait with bated breath for the next installment,
ReplyDeleteBriony
x
Are you the same with "Coronation Street"?
DeleteThis is genius. Carry on and keep us plied with your travel adventures with Mr. Achetbir Singh.
ReplyDeleteI am afraid that Mr Achetbir Singh was little more than a pimp as I later discovered.
DeleteToo funny. I've had to delete those ads a few times.
ReplyDeleteThey are pretty annoying aren't they Lily?
DeleteI anticipate Fifty Shades of Yorkshire Pudding.....
ReplyDeleteWhere are those handcuffs?
DeleteI'll duck Bombay, mumbles I!
ReplyDeleteThat's gone over my head Lee.
DeleteStand up straight!!! How many times do I have to tell you? :)
DeleteI love that you have seized on those stupid spam ads and turned them into an adventure! Bravo!
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