No Gold in Bangalore

One of my priorities this weekend was to find myself a gym. Not really because I'm a work-out-aholic, but because my knee demands it. Without rigorous and continuous physical therapy I won't be doing much running come the autumn.

I did extensive internet searches, made an aborted attempt to convince the Oberoi to let me be a member of their plush spa/fitness centre for 2 months, and hunted in back alleys for local players with dodgy sounding names like Futura Fitness and Right Shape Gym.

I about to give up when I finally stumbled upon Gold's Gym's website. Memories of RC Strategy flooded back to me. Jan - hunched enthusiastically in front of his blackboards armed with over-sized coloured chalks - stared meaningfully at me and said: "Test the strategy's internal consistency: does expanding the geographical scope help to enhance Gold's Gym's competitive advantage." I wasn't really sure, but what I did know that I had a huge willingness to pay.

Ecstatic at having found a modern gym which appeared relatively close to the guest house, I jumped in a rickshaw and set him off in the general direction. But although the detailed address appeared wonderfully precise, it turned out to be superficially so. I couldn't find it and I certainly couldn't explain to the rickshaw driver how to find it.

I fell back on Plan B: ring the handy number posted on the website. Ring ring. A man answers.

Him: Hello?
Me: Hello. Is this Gold's Gym?
Him: Yes
Me: Great, can you tell me how to find you, I'm near Cubbon Park but I can't find you.
Him: You want international?
Me: Huh? I want Gold's Gym near Cubbon Park.
Him: How did you get this number?
Me: I found it on the internet. On your website.
Him: This is international. Don't ring me.

Click. Mysterious. Confusing.

I joined a gym a few minutes walk from the office, just off Cunnigham Road. It's called Power Fitness. It's not too dodgy.