Thank you India

Delhi belly. The ever feared special form of extreme diarhea that only Indian bacteria can give struck me hard yesterday. I seriously though I was going to die. My stomach was twisting with cramped and pain while any attempt at going to the bathroom was resulting in just liquid

Wholly shut

So I'm reminded of how you have to watch out in developing countries when the currency exchange guy at the airport tries to rip me off 400 rules by substituting 100 bill instead of 500 bill. I went back and pointed out this fact after I has already bought a prepaid taxi ticket for 215 rupees and that would not be possible unless he gave me 1 more 100 bill than he was supposed to because the amount that I took out was 9200 rupees. He was partially acting confused and not knowing what is going on but eventually gave me back the remaining 400 that he owed me. This isn't japan anymore that is for sure.

Spicy India

The first thing that struck me as interesting while lining up to board the plane was that the call for general boarding came way to soon after first class and business class passengers. The reason I discovered was that there as no first class and business class travelers ok this flight. A rare occurance I noted. Even on the emptiest of international flights there has always been some business class travellers. Well I guess not on air India flights to Delhi I suppose. The next thing I noticed was when I stepped on board, I was immediately hit with a smell of spice and curry. Not all that unpleasant, but interesting. Also interestig was the seats in the center row which was 5 seats across where coloured red and orange like curry. My taste buds could sense the culinary onslaught which will be the next couple of days. I just hope that India itself will be as forgiving on my digestive tract as this plane, mild spicy, but not unpleasant.

I'm Ducatista now

So, after 4 years of hemming and hawing I finally closed the deal on a Ducati. The GT1000, a sensible yet powerful bike, with understated beauty and a classic look. I'm come to realize that we pick motorcycles much like we pick our women. I don't like flashy girls, and thus a sleek sports bike isn't for me. My old KTM was a little too uncomfortable, and although she gave me lots of exciting rides, I've come to miss the comfortable, casual cruise of a standard bike with sensible ergonomics. Similarly, I don't like the large presence of Harley's. So draw your own conclusions there. My GT1000 has a strong and feisty heart, simple and air-cooled, has a beautiful purr, and has plenty of excitement when I want it. Just like my ideal girl. Bucking beauty. Shortly after I got here though, I discovered the joy of the 'Ducati Neutral'. For those of you who know, bear with me while I explain to the non-bikers (heck non-Ducatista out there), the ducati neutral is when the light indicates that the bike is in neutral gear, but it really isn't. Apparently this is common in Ducati's. So I parked outside a cafe on a nice and sunny day, had my coffee and relaxed and enjoyed the bohemian lifestyle of Tokyo, geared up, and made the mistake (which I'll never again) of starting the bike while standing beside it, without pulling the clutch. To my horror she jumps and lurches forward, and I catch her in time before she topples herself onto her side. Thanks to the servo-starter on Ducati's, the starter motor continued to turn and turn, trying to jump the engine into starting while I was holding onto her for dear life with my left hand on the left handlebar, and my leg holding her up and keeping her from falling down. As my left hand was busy holding her back I couldn't let go to pull the clutch in, thankfully in the 2 seconds that it all happened, I remained calm, and cool, and managed to hit the kill switch on the right side, before she managed to break free from my grip or burn out her starter motor. After 5 seconds, of calming my nerves, and a breath of relief after I checked her for any obvious damage, I slowly rode away, hoping that this was as close to an accident that I would ever come with her... given that she would be very costly to repair thanks to her Italian heritage. The only casualty was that I managed to loosen the left mirror stalk, and a little bit of pride. (and perhaps did the starter motor no favours as well) Ducati really really needs to fix this electronic hiccup. But after that, I am always sure to start the bike while sitting on her, and with the clutch pulled. Polishing her pipes for 3 hours. Somehow I managed to get some melted goop on her chrome pipes. I was certain that somebody had delibertely slobbered some gum or plastic goop on her while I left her parked in shibuya, but I can't be sure. Anyway, turns out that melted plastic is the WORSE nightmare for chrome pipes. In the past with the KTM, I would have scraped away with my fine grit sanding sponge, but now that the pipes are shiny and chrome, adding swirly scratches struck me as not doing my beauty justice. So I researched and researched on the internet. Apparently (I haven't tried) easy-off oven cleaner works, but to my chagrin, no easy-off is to be found in japan. So thankfully my co-worker who owns a Harley had some good advice. Some goopy solution used for cleaning pans was my salvation. Unfortunately salvation never comes easy. Even with soaking the stain in the solution painted onto the pipes for 1hour, it took a sum total of 3 hours of labour intensive scrubbing with alumninum foil for the stain to finally come off. At the end of the ordeal, I was quite totally shacked and exhausted. The only upside of the whole thing was that I was able to use the term 'I was downstairs cleaning her pipes for 3 hours' in a legitimate fashion. My advice is never ever ever get anything plastic touching your pipes when hot.