The first time I arrived in Shimla, I drove there with a few friends who were locals. I was given sufficient advice on where to find accommodation and at what budget. Since they knew I am a budget traveller, they politely suggested a place away from the mall, somewhere a little far from the center where tariffs were not high.
But my stay in Shimla was short – just for a day in transit. I wanted to stay close to action, see the town, eat and drink well during my short stay. Mall road it had to be, and I was willing to shell out a little more money for some extra comfort. I was dropped close to the mall and was suggested of convenient places to stay, and everything looked simple and easy, even when it was slightly above my usual budget.
I left the town next evening, travelled to further north and came back Shimla ten days later. This time I was on public transport and was on my own. A friend, this time not a local, who was with me had taken off to see Chail, leaving me with the ordeal of finding a room in Shimla.
We needed a place only for the day, to rest a bit from the long journey and freshen up before leaving for Delhi in the night. Since we weren’t going to be there for too long, I decided to stay off mall road but find something in the periphery. At the same time I did not want to stray too far from the town as that would mean too much commuting for everything – to book bus tickets to Delhi and a flight further to Bangalore and even for some decent food.
What started as a search near the mall turned out to be a nightmare of interaction with touts. I was wandering with a big backpack which gave away my identity – the potential bakra with no reservations and in search of a place to stay. Touts fell on me with glee all over the place and sucked my blood to the last drop.
The first man who asked if I wanted a room followed me despite my denials. A firm ‘no’ to his question was hardly a deterrent. He was there every time I looked back. He just waited for me to pick a place, and then he could go and claim his commission pretending to have taken me there. A couple of requests to leave me alone, and pretending to be angry at him made no difference. Finally I decided to confront him and see what would happen. I stopped, put my bag down, turned to him, smiled and said –
“Is there something you want from me?”
He did not seem to be ready for this question. This was totally new and he did not have a ready response. He appeared startled for a second, put his guard back on again and meekly shook his head.
I smiled again and said, “is there something I can do for you?”
No words came from him again, and his confused face just responded a silent no.
Finally I said, “in that case, can you please lave me alone and not bother me?”
He did not say a word, turned around and went away. That was one man escaped from, but I figured he was the most gentlemanly of all the people I was to meet later. The search for a decent hotel was not easy and fruitful. Nearly every hotel in Shimla seems to be up to making some quick buck in the peak season of summer.
The first hotel I found quoted me a price that seemed just about reasonable. But the surprise came when I asked him to show the room. It was a small dingy make-shift room built under a staircase, and hardly had any space to stand. Add to that, there were no windows or ventilation of any kind. It was so small, even if you put pigs there, they would die from claustrophobia.
I moved further, walked a bit and found another hotel that seemed to be newly built. The rates were slightly higher than the previous guy, but still a little lower than what I found at the mall. The room had a window alright and was large enough for two people, but there were other problems. Sheets were stained in all kind of colors, they were probably there unchanged since the days of first guest at the room. The room was dirty and reeked of cigarettes. It seemed more like a place suitable for all kind of illegal activities. I fled.
Mall road is where all of Shimla’s action is – cultural activities, restaurants and a place to sit and kill time. Hotels here are far from value for money in peak season. Accommodation is expensive, and there are no decent budget hotels.
And when I fled out of the lodge, I was followed by a dozen touts who were waiting outside for their catch of the day. Two of them, wearing clothes that looked like that of porters, took charge of me and offered to show me to a hotel. Predictably I said ‘no, thank you.’ But one of them was a great orator. He spoke with a strong and convincing voice, and gave me a small lecture even while I kept saying ‘no’ repeatedly.
“I will show you a good hotel,” he started his rant, “you see, I will only get Rs.10 as commission from the hotel owners. Let me also make a little bit of money today. It won’t make any difference for you. Let me carry your luggage. Pay me only Rs.10 for that, no more. Ten rupees from you and ten rupees from the hotel owner is all that I am going to make and you will get a good hotel to stay.”
He spoke at length even as I tried to ignore him. He spoke with such a convincing voice that it was hard not to agree. Shimla’s lanes are usually sloping, and it is not easy to walk for long with a heavy backpack. I was also beginning to get tired, and his offer to carry my backpack sounded tempting. I relented.
We walked together for a couple of hundred meters to the hotel he intended to take me to. I decided to play smart, stopped him at the gates of the hotel, and told him –
“ok, thanks for showing me the hotel. I will also pay you the hotel owner’s part. Here is twenty rupees and let me go in myself.”
I assumed I was being clever, but this man was no mild character like the previous guy. He spoke again in length, assured me that he will find me the best room and I would have nothing to loose, and pushed through without letting me talk any more.
The rooms here were no better. I was shown to a carpeted room without a window, which had a dingy inhospitable smell. I complained to the manager of the smell and he graciously offered to kill the smell by spraying some cheap perfume which smelled worse. I made no attempt to hide my dissatisfaction, and was quickly lead to another room which was no better. I walked out, followed by my smart talking porter whose voice had now changed from a friendly tone to displeased one. Nevertheless, he offered to take me to a neighbouring hotel which looked not very different from the previous one. I was having enough of this run, and refused it without even deciding to take a peek.
I was now tired and frustrated of all the running in search of a hotel that offered no frills, but is just clean and airy. I decided to return to the hotel where I had stayed ten days ago. It was a little expensive, but clean and spacious, had large windows and enough circulation. Most important, they did not encourage touts. But I was now a more than a kilometer away from there, and was unwilling to walk that long on the slopes with my heavy backpack. So I again turned to my smart talking tout for assistance and asked him how much he wanted to take my backpack there.
By now our man had realized he is not going to get his commission booty. He grew impatient and shouted aloud – “what kind of a transaction is this?” then paused for a second and said “that will be hundred rupees.” I don’t know what the right price would be, but I had no intent to pay a rude man ten times more than what he quoted when he was acting nice. I picked up my backpack and walked. They did not follow me any further.
My ordeal was not to end there. Another man who was silently watching the whole scene tailed me now and asked if I wanted a room. As usual, I said no and he kept persisting. Just a few minutes on my way, I saw a ‘hotel’ sign and stopped by to inquire. The tout followed me. They had rooms available that were clean, had a window and the price was reasonable. But the manager said the tout behind me was a problem.
“He did not bring me here,” I said, “you need not bother about him.”
But it so turned out these touts are stronger than they appear. The manager seemed worried that he may have to pay a commission. He asked me to hang on when I said ‘let’s go and talk to the guy’. I waited for sometime, but nothing seemed to be happening. There again, I went out for a talk with the tout, trying the same trick I did with the first guy.
Me: Is there something you want?
Tout: umm.. no.
Me: Is there something I can do for you?
Tout: umm.. no.
Me: So why are you following me?
Our man had no answer but he was shameless enough to stay on anyway. I tried harder.
Me: Do you want some tea? Come let’s chat for sometime over tea.
He remained silent, but now his face showed signs of confusion. There was a small restaurant nearby and I offered to take him there for a cup of tea. He gave a half-smiling, half-confused look and shook his head, but remained there watching me and giving me a ‘I am shameless’ look. Finally, I had no idea what else can be done to him, resigned to my fate and returned to the hotel reception.
After nearly fifteen minutes, the manager came back looking tired but smiling, looking as though he came from a battle hard won. He had managed to chase the tout away.
“He demanded for four hundred rupees,” said the manager wiping his sweat, “it wasn’t easy to send him away.”
It was amusing for me to know that these people feared the touts, and felt obliged to them. I had always presumed that small to mid-range hotels had an amiable relationship with touts, and they would have a reasonable code of conduct and interdependency. But in Shimla, it looked like touts ran the show. Who knows, they might even have a union or a strong muscle to defend their cause.
Finally I got my room at the price we had agreed earlier. But even today I have no clue if this price included tout’s commission, and if the manager really sent him away without any payments.
