To drive or not to drive

We have eighteen days left at our current apartment. When my landlord hiked the rent in May I immediately responded, telling him that it was too much and we'd be moving out. Then, reflecting that we had a trip to England coming up soon, not to mention a consignment of house contents on its way to me across the Arabian Sea, I told him that we'd continue at the new rate, buying myself enough time to get our holiday out of the way, and my goods in the house.

So here we are, everything settled and I gave Shylock my notice for the second time, two weeks ago. Now we need to find somewhere to live. Apart from the first month in Bangalore when I stayed in the back of beyond at Hebbal, I've always lived close to the centre of town. I was on 2nd Cross for over two years and then moved to the adjoining street where we've been ever since. I like the convenience of where we are but we're really paying too much rent and I could be putting that money into my children's accounts rather than a Bengali's pocket.

It looks as though we'll be moving a little further out. Shilpi has found a place in KR Gardens close to the old airport, and although the place was a complete tip when we visited it two weeks ago, the landlord assured me that everything would be cleaned up. I told him that I'd believe that when we saw it and that I wouldn't be parting with any money until I was assured that everything was clean and working as it should do. So we're off to have a second look this weekend, and I'm expecting that I'll be saying to him, "that sink needs replacing, this drain cover is broken, this tap doesn't work, the bulb's gone..."

But then I have a reputation for being a fussy devil to maintain, and I've always found in India that it helps to keep your suspicion levels high and your expectations low. If we do move to KR Gardens though, my regular trips to the pub will have to be re-assessed. I'm currently a five minute walk away; KR would be half an hour or more. I have the car of course but I don't drink and drive which means it would either be a crab-wise stagger along Airport Road on a Friday night, or a smooth drive having been drinking unsatsisfying sweet lime soda all evening.

Decisions, decisions. And Gordon Brown thinks he's got a tough job keeping dwindling Labour Party supporters on his side, and the British public in favour of military interventions in Iraq and Afghanistan. He should be in my shoes!

Originally published on Blogger on 2nd July 2008. We did move and I did walk to and from the pub. Twenty minutes was my best time and I used to try and beat that every Friday night but never managed it. It was always twenty minutes, twenty one minutes, twenty two minutes...