We spent a tragic six days in Siliguri, an utterly unremarkable city, waiting to see if the strike would end. It didn't. At first we stayed in a hotel where they'd forgotten to take the cellophane off the ceiling decoration.
After two nights, we downgraded to somewhere that didn't have ceiling decorations. Sarah went on a secret assignment and I stayed inside and did some writing. Then at some stage - the chronology of it all has defeated me - we saw some kids in a parade, and thought it might be Holi, one of India's most famous festivals (the one where everyone throws powder at each other). But it wasn't - this was some kind of big-up to Saraswati, the Hindu goddess of wisdom. Word.
If you ever get stuck in this city, though, I'd strongly recommend eating all your meals in the Vinayak Hotel, where we had two of the best feasts of our whole trip. Here's the most joyous picture of all, though. So long, suckers!