Grumpy Traveller Out of line

Phoneless in a foreign land is an&nbspannoying place to be. So my first tourist dollar/euro is inevitably spent on a local SIM. But ambushed by a Matrix salesman at Delhi&rsquos T3 airport two months ago, minutes before my flight to Italy, I made a smart call. Or so I thought.

Until, Florence arrived. Foisted with a dead SIM, I coaxed and cried, and let my tempers fly. Short of calling the Vatican and petitioning the Pope for divine intervention, I tried every somersault in the book. But no, not a peep from it. And yet on my return, the card was collected and a bill delivered before I could say fottutamente telefonino. Jetlagged and stewing, my protests were met with a wall of indifference.

The customer care personnel even had the temerity to suggest that I should have used my India number (which I was doing anyway) to register a complaint while I was still in Tuscany. To add serious fiscal insult to injury, I was also told that the Rs 5,000 I had deposited as security by debit card wasn&rsquot registered on their system To initiate the unnecessarily long 60-day refund process, could I please scan and send a copy of the receipt Certainly not.

A month later, when the charges weren&rsquot waived and a late fee was levied, I literally hit the roof. Matters were &lsquoescalated&rsquo and magically resolved in 24 hours flat. Now, it&rsquos a hard heart that holds a grudge long after the refund cheque is cashed. So I guess it&rsquos time to call it a day. Finally.