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Near Destitute in India

I landed in Mumbai just after midnight to discover that my bank had placed a security block on my card and I was unable to get any cash out. I'd been meaning to use the ATM when I was in Heathrow but had instead hung around the Apple store waiting to see if their new Macbooks would get delivered before my flight boarded. They hadn't, and here I was now in a different world, in the middle of the night, fearfully digging into my pockets for leftover cash.

After changing those meagre funds I caught a wrecked old taxi with a wrecked old driver and we rattled off slowly to the hotel I'd booked. On the way I tried to call my bank to sort things out but was frustratingly put on hold until the credit on my phone ran out.

It was 02:30 when I finally arrived at the hotel, knowing I was about to find out whether or not I'd be spending my first night back in India sleeping on the pavement. I explained the problems I'd been having to the receptionist when he asked for my card and thankfully he handed me the room key and told me just to sort it out in the morning.

From the room I called my bank again and within five minutes my card was working. It's hard to explain the excitement you feel when an ATM whirrs, counting out your cash, and your fears of being destitute in India vanish like a bad dream.

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