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I was blessed with heavy cloud cover on the ride back down from Darjeeling. Visibility was practically nil, which meant my very talented cab driver couldn’t race down the mountain like Krishna - the cabbie - had on the way up. I was thrilled - no nausea this time, just a pleasant, leisurely ride back to Bagdogra.

Bagdogra! What's here? It's too small to make a mark on a map - yet, not small enough to be quaint. There are no cultural attractions, no grand temples, no bustling side streets - nothing to move the soul. It’s merely a hub, a pit stop between India’s incredible Himalayan towns and the rest of the country.

I checked into a hotel near the airport. When I asked the front desk about Bagdogra’s cultural offerings, the clerk stared at me like I’d asked for a yacht rental. After some hesitation, she suggested a visit to the zoo - an hour’s drive. That was a hard no. Zoos might be mankind’s cruelest invention. I mean, who wants to see a tiger behind bars?

Her second suggestion was the City Center. So, I hopped into a tuk-tuk and off I went.

The “City Center,” for all its fancy title, turned out to be a sprawling indoor shopping mall — perhaps mankind’s second cruelest invention. I entered. Rows of corporate stores. Escalators. Fluorescent lighting. I might as well have been back in Atlanta, Georgia.

So, I bought a bottle of water, looked around for something Indian or at least something new and unique - anything. But when I stumbled upon the Domino's pizza, I had to call it quits. I opened the Uber app (another corporate monster) and put in my destination.

Thirty minutes later, I was back in my cozy room at the Marriott, which, again, might as well have been anywhere - yet another corporate creation. Ugh.

Enough, Bagdogra.

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