Dozing Dogs and Englishmen......

‘Four walls do not a prison make nor iron bars a cage’ – somebody famous said (I know I am very poorly educated on literature but Mrs Reivers side of the family more than make up for this) – a building site outside your condo, gaping holes in the road, slippery mud smeared pavements, unpredictable violent showers, and stray camels do ensure something that can feel, if not like imprisonment, at least comfortable house-arrest. As I write it sounds as if the other inmates/business guests are being subjected to hard labour with the sound of breaking stones reverberating through the room – just like that bit in the library in the 3^rd Indiana Jones film - if you know what I mean.

In true British tradition there was only one course of action – form an escape committee. Since the nearest sane person was Mrs Reiver 10km away at her laboratory communing with her rabid monkeys – I had to make do with some personal reflection to form the plan. Tempting as it would be to find a forger, put bags of dirt down my trousers and check whether the fixer at Mr Reivers work resembled James Garner, I decided that the Great Escape tribute band would have to wait a while and more direct action was called for. I was going to go running some-where, anywhere!. Given what I have described about Bangalore streets this may seem a high risk course of action, but trust me when you are pounding away on the treadmill in the gym and one of the regular power cuts occurs it can be a hamstring tweaking and dis-orientating experience.

I had to make a critical decision given it was around midday – protect from the heat or protect from the bugs – I chose the latter so with my running legs, knee bandage, long sleeved top with thumb holes, and dragon sweatband I resembled a wannabe but somewhat shambling superhero candidate, more Charityshopfortysomething than Spiderman. Getting the driver to take me the 5km to Cubbon Park laid out during the Raj took only an hour – the traffic is getting better!

The park was populated by a mix of courting couples, sleeping workmen, working workmen, strolling office workers, drunks, religious devotees and dozing dogs basking in the sun. The reactions of all were consistent and unanimous – the circus has come to town – the mixture of surprise, interest and slight distain, most memorably exhibited by the sleeping dog on the roundabout where I did my ‘warm down’.made me smile properly for the first time in a couple of days. With the sweat dripping off me in a continuous stream and Ballroom Blitz by the Sweet blaring on the MP3 player the world seemed a lightly better place – my driver who had to contend with a very damp and somewhat smelly passenger on the way home did not seem quite so convinced!