The high priest of dentistry is what we will remember of Mumbai (or one of the things. The next door fire station having early morning parade - hick, bar, hick, hick bar hick, stomp stomp stomp - is another). For a few nights now, the pain in my back molar was unbearable. I needed a few painkillers just too dull it enough to get through the night for some sleep. But it became ever worse. There was no use fooling myself now. Painkillers only hid the problem, they did not solve it. I needed to see the dentist.

But dentists don't really make it into guidebooks, so where do you find one? And a good one at that? This is India after all, where stories abound of foreigners being ripped off! And dentistry has an ability to rack up the costs! With another 6 months of travelling to go, I needed a solution, not more painkillers!

A question at the Parsi restaurant led to a consultation with the high priest of dentistry. Here is a man very comfortable in his position as the head of his practice with his nieces lending a helping hand. Even if they were qualified themselves, he barked out orders, suggestions and my diagnosis in short order! All the while checking out his stocks online and jumping from one topic of discussion to the next! He was gruff, but very well meaning. He was just like your favourite uncle who happened to be a dentist as well.

During the course of the two mornings of treatment for a root canal, it turned out he had a great sense of humour, but a very heavy hand. Where newly qualified medical personnel might just take things a little easier, he was old school. In the school that he was taught, pain was temporary and therefore you needed to get things done. Now. After 3 injections into my gum line and me slurring like a drunk, it was still incredibly painful (Ed (Ing) - sitting in on all the treatment for moral support, & for someone else for the dentist to preach to, I can vouch for it looking & sounding pretty painful - not just manflu type pain!). Whenever they needed to insert whatever evil torture instrument they needed to use to complete the root canal, I literally jumped off the chair. He came along and shoved the needle right in the nerve and pushed the plunger with little sympathy! F*&^% hell, it was painful. It was a good thing that the armchair grips were fixed on; otherwise I would have yanked them right off and beaten him with them!

When it rains in Mumbai, and your mouth, tooth and gums are still reeling from the amount of anaesthetic they received, there is only one thing to do in India's movie capital! Watch a Bollywood film in an old style theatre. With our feet up on the balcony and reclining chairs and the whirr of the projector, we enjoyed three and a half hours (with intermission) of Bollywood creativity! It turns out that Rock on! (a very Hindi name for a film if there ever was one!) was in the running to be India's presentation at the Oscars. Even though we don't speak a huge amount of Hindi, the film was actually pretty good! There were a few cheesy scenes, but hey…..this is Bollywood!

Thankfully, back at the dentist, it was with great relief that the treatment was over and we could go. But before we did, we were giving tips on places to go and see in Vietnam where he and the family were headed next for which he seemed very grateful. But it was with pleasure that he blessed us, with great sincerity, as we walked out into the street. Whose dentist would that? But then again, this was the same place that Ghandi had his teeth looked at!