The skies have opened up, the weather’s fine and it’s just the perfect time to go for that long drive to Lonavala. Beware of this pristine thought, for you know not what other kind of fudging awaits you in the land of chikki and fudge. The moment you get off the Expressway and turn left into Lonavala, you are greeted by makeshift plastic barriers and an even more impregnable human wall. Menacing hoodlums are out to collect a pollution tax, which varies depending on the make of your vehicle, the composition of the passengers and, of course, the collectors’ mood. From Rs5 per person to Rs 25 per person, they charge what they will, and you don’t want to risk damage to your Rs10 lakh sedan for just Rs100. Just when you think you are done with the goons for the rest of the weekend, you encounter another batch of sons-of-the-soil at Tiger Point. The same intimidating herd, the same menacing stance and the same consequence. And god bless you if you are stuck in a traffic jam; you will spend more time in the car than in Lonavala.

Then comes the thing about eating and drinking; these guys beat even the multiplex popcorn counters when it comes to raking it in. Charging Rs50 for a Rs48 bottle of cold drinks may be forgiven, but charging Rs60 for the same bottle is extortion. A pav-bhaji costs Rs100 and even the vada-pao costs Rs15. Try arguing about it, and you will be greeted with the choicest insults — and you still have to pay up.

Unless you are zooming to your own home in the hills — or in Aamby Valley — there’s the prospect of negotiating with the hotel for the night’s stay, and all the best to you if you are just a couple. Lonavala is the only place where a couple pays more for a hotel room than a family of four, and where the weekday rate for a couple is more than the weekend rate. The hotel business here has its own laws of economics, and any which way it is the guest who goes back gypped.

Of course, those who want a home of their own also get their share of heartburn here. A friend’s friend knows the local civil contractor-turned-developer who is offering a great deal on the last few weekend homes. Few years on, he’s still selling more homes, even as you wait for the four walls to come up on the empty plot.

And even the kids of these locals have a unique idea about enjoying themselves — like standing on a hillock off the Expressway and hurling stones on cars zipping past. The one who manages to smash a windshield of the Mercedes C250 is the winner of the day. I doubt if this con game will end anytime soon. By the time one batch of Mumbaikars wisen up to the loot in Lonavala, another batch of suckers is ready for a long drive to the hill station.