Day 44 - Backwater tour

We had to be up at the crack of dawn, a rickshaw would be arriving at the beach house at 07:00, it was a 35-40 minute joy ride through Vyppen main road, to the ferry crossing point to Fort Cochin where we could dump our bags at 'Toms old mansion', and get a tour of the backwaters. Laura wasn't feeling too good, we diagnosed the problem and came up with a combination of heat, random food and the crafty rum / wine combination, it is never a good idea, especially when you need to get up to sit on a non A/C boat for a few hours.

On arrival at Tom's Mansion we were shown the store room, and I was given a tour of the various rooms that the place had to offer, they were huge, one room had twin 4 poster beds. The place was built 300 years ago and was owned by the Portuguese when they were running the place. With the addition of a bunch of air conditioners and WiFi it was now a guest house / hotel. For about £20 a night you had a room about 30ft by 30ft with Air conditioning, en suite and rising damp. We dumped our bags and hopped on the bus to the tour.

The bus driver had a lead foot, which he used for accelerating, steering, and braking. I later found out that he raced motorbikes on the beach, probably still using his tour bus. As we crossed a bridge and attempted a right turn, a police officer informed him that a road was closed. This added about 45 minutes to the journey time, and Laura was looking more and more pale. I'll skip the journey and details, and get to the point where she got the driver to stop while she threw up next to the bus. What was interesting was that the wall she used to prop her self up was surrounding a farm that appeared to have mangos, bananas, and even nutmeg growing. After a tactical spew she was still feeling rough, and the driver now was paying less attention to the road as he kept one eye on Laura in case she spewed over his dashboard. We arrived about 1 hour late for the start of the tour, luckily they hadn't left without us, and everyone there was pretty relaxed. We were greeted by our tour guide with a cup of sweet tea and a gentle shove onto the boat to hurry us up.

The tour was nice, lots of interesting facts about how the fisherman harvest mussels for their meat but also use the shells for Calcium Hydroxide which is added to Calcium tablets, talcum powder and also as a fertiliser. We got off the boat on a small island where we were shown around and advised about the importance of Coconut palms to the local way of life, from the oil made from the nuts themselves to a beer like alcohol made from the sap of the flower. The husk of the coconut is also harvested and used for making mats, bags, and rope. I found all this very interesting, and asked more about the sappy beer thing. 50 rupees later I was the proud owner of a litre of the milky looking liquid. On opening it there was a gentle hiss, ahh, fermentation was still taking place. I took a sniff and regretted it. I may as well have smelt a tramps armpit, it honked. I'm not one to waste 50 rupees, so I took a swig and it wasn't bad, the smell did remain, as a bit of an after taste, however a few more litres and I doubt you'd even notice it. The tour continued and a second phase began.

We hopped off the house boat, and back onto the bus, Laura was a little better as lunch had been served on the boat, and this perked her up a bit. This phase was punting on a small local boat down some canals that were about 2 ft deep. It was nice and relaxing, and it gave us the opportunity to see some interesting plants, and animals. 2 hours was a little long to be honest and my bum had gone to sleep after about an hour, but we did get off the boat from time to time and this broke it up nicely. We stopped for a cuppa, and to watch some women walking back and forth making coconut husk rope. I made a small video of it click here.

We were all shattered when the boat returned to 'port' and we were all dropping off as the bus driver fought his way back through the rush hour of Cochin.

The entrance to a canal... these are often just 'driveways' to peoples houses.

A mussel fisherman having a race with our houseboat

 Someone's equivalent of an SUV parked up on the canal.

Sunrise over the backwaters behind the beach house

Taken while on the ferry crossing from Vyppen Island to Fort Cochin

An arty bike shot

 Sun rise picture taken from the beach house dining table

Picture taken from the smaller local boat of the canal (Phase two of the trip)

Day 43 - Beach bum day

As the name suggets the day was spent doing as little as possible. Being washed up on the beach by the big waves and during the hottest part of the day relaxing on the roof top room thing. The owner of the beach house introduced us to a game popular in India, the game uses a large board 2ft by 2 ft and some discs that you try to pot into holes in each corner of the playing board. It is like snooker but with discs. After each shot you grab the equivalent of the white ball and position it on your side of the square board. You flick the disc with your finger and if all goes well it hits one of the coloured discs and you pot it. Like snooker different coloured discs have different values. It seems im completely rubbish at the game, the stupid discs defy the laws of physics common sense and newtons third law of thermodynamics, and, for that reason Laura, a woman, was good. I potted two discs the owner (clearly an olympic champion at the sport) potted about 15 and Laura (clearly a complete cheat somehow) potted about 10. I think my side of the board needed talc'ing up as something was clearly wrong. I pretended I needed to upload a blog entryto save myself another round of humiliation and we all called it a draw (in my head). The owner agreed to take us into town with him to get some cash and some essentials. One of them being alcohol.
The town center is a roundabout. We are on the island of Vyppen next to Fort Kochin there is a bunch of villages one main road down the center of it and a few temples. We grab money, some snacks and, being a generally dry area we head to one of the government approved 'drink shops'. Like a dispensary for needles the lowest of the low are waiting outside queuing patiently in makeshift queue lanes made out of wire and old television cable. I blend in like a morris dancer in a reggae club unaware what the translation for a bottle of nice spiced dark rum,  and two bottles of red chianti is. I'd have settled for non spiced rum and even a dry white wine. Unfortunatly this shop was geared to homeless drinkers and the type of person that would pay for another bottle of alcohol over his insulin. I took the rum made from brent crude oil and some wine / port / paint stripper concoction.  All came in plastic bottles and cost a total of £10. So far so good. We hadnt tried it yet though.

Another swimming session in the sea and before long the sun was setting and we were heading for another home cooked meal. Curried prawns from the backwaters and an assortment of spicy vegetables and chutneys. 

That evening, we started on the 'wine'. I thought things like this were tested on animals,  clearly this one missed that stage of the development process. If a wine taster were to put this in their mouth they'd not say "Cheeky little number, delecate on the palate..." going on to describe the region the grapes and the chateau which made it famous. ..no they'd uppercut you in the chin and try to smash the plastic bottle over your head. It was offensive. Luckily, after a couple of rums it could have been Crystale. I lost at cards about 20 times to complete my streak for the day. Tomorrow was an early start. We were going on a tour, a backwater house boat ride then a canal ride. We needed to be up at 7.

Plodding through the mud and dead things round the backwaters of Vyppen island.

The open air upstairs of the beach house. Very chilled.

Day 42 - Strikes day 2

We had intended to do some excursions today, starting with a trip to 'the backwaters', an area in Kerala where the sea levels have created a small collection of islands, towards the land the water is fresh, from rivers and it is turned to brine as it gets closer to the sea. Unfortunately  India decided to have a nationwide strike, with most of India ground to a halt as people went to work anyway, Kerala on the other hand was taking part in the strike, with people going round threatening anyone that dared to open with arson or broken windows. This meant that not only could we not do an excursion, but we couldn't really leave our Beach House as there was no rickshaws, or taxis. We booked another night and made the most of the beach, great food and company.

By now we had some more guests staying at the beach house, an Norwegian interpreter that worked translating computer games while he travelled (living the dream or what !), two girls from Austria one started training to be a police woman, but stopped due to the pressure and mad working environment of being in the force. I think she was fired for something illicit, but she smiled laughed nervously when I said this. I think I hit the nail on the head. Her friend was a budding property tycoon already renting out a lake side apartment at the age of 21. Shortly after, two more ladies turned up from Sweden one of them was a Ferry captain she suffers from sea sickness. She also didn't know what the bottom of the boat was called, but she had lost two mobile phones by dropping in it, a space between the floor of the boat and the hull. (The Bilge).

We all sat round the dining table and talked about travelling, while we tucked into King Fish and various other bits and pieces. The food is stunning. It was about 5 minutes before the conversation turned to the shits, illness and all the parts of travelling that they never show on Palin. Laura was mocking the fact that I don't have a problem using the 'small shower head' thing to give my hoop a quick blast after having a 'movement'. I think it is cleaner than just smearing with paper, I do however have a quick 'inspection dab' with bog roll which also dries the area. This is how you clean plates - water to clean and wipe dry. I have never seen someone wipe a plate with a kitchen towel and be happy to eat off of it. Not that you butt needs to be able to eat off of it... You know what I mean.

As you can see the strikes caused widespread panic and large picket lines

You should have seen the size of that fish "It was this big..."

Walking down the road you know you are going to have to say hello 15 times in this scene

Day 41 - WiFi hunt

I have suffered for two days with no WiFi and even though I like to think that I'm pretty good at roughing it, I'm struggling. I believe that there is essentials to life, these are :  water, shelter, food and at least 5mb broadband, ideally delivered via WiFi. Without these, mainly the WiFi, I'm stuck. You may as well stick me up a creak without a boat, and just give me a paddle. In fact with a laptop, DSLR camera, and my smart phone, you may as well give me an outboard motor, a paddle, and a set of skis... but easy on the boat. So like someone talking about the fountain of youth, or the lost city of Atlantis, a fellow traveller staying in the same beach house, said he had heard of a place, a beach cafe, that not only sold beers, but had WiFi. I gripped his collar and pinned him to the wall "Where Man ? Where ? Spit it out!"

Just  a small 6km walk along the beach with my backpack full of laptop, chargers, adapters, phone and my trusty camera. The midday sun is great, and walking 6km to find out that the nationwide strikes that are taking place also caused the beach cafe to close make it even better. At least we have been healthy and walked and seen some of the area. We decide (well I decide after whinging about being sun burnt) that walking along the road with its patchy shade would be better, and it would take less time than walking along the beach. The only drawback is the countless cute kids, all saying "hi, how are you", I didn't forget to leave off the question mark, they don't expect you to answer, when you do they giggle and talk to each other, clearly mocking the pasty turd sweating like a maraton runner. Every 20m there is another child waiting for you to get within earshot before they start grinning. It is cute the first 30 times.

As soon as we arrive back at the beach house, Laura says "Swim in the sea?" Within 2 minutes we are  jumping about in the water like a mad frogs. Fair play to Laura, she isn't afraid of the waves, even though she seems unable to stop water going up her hooter. I tried to point out that slowly expelling air out of it stops water going up, humming to yourself through your nose is all the air you need to push out to save your self from a sore bugle...It appears that being a teacher requires you to be good at teaching and not necessarily learning, as she seemed to actively suck the seawater up her nose. After inhaling about 2 litres we called it a day and walked the 20m back to the beach house where a fresh watermelon drink was waiting along with a friendly smile from our host Kuruvilla, I call him Paul as I have no hope of saying a name like that.

Before food was served we decided to burn 45 minutes by walking around the 'block' this means a walk along the back water / paddy field things, these are large man made lakes where people farm shrimps, crabs, fish and, by the looks of it, flip flops. We wander round saying hello to everyone, and taking pictures of everything.

Fisherman posing team in full swing.

Beach display team perfecting some moves.

 Cheer leaders egging on the display team

It's a crab from Laura's pants.

Day 40 - Kuzhupilly Beach House

I think that if you fancy a break, a great host and a relaxed atmosphere like no other, you can't go wrong with this place. There is nobody on the beach apart from the odd fisherman wandering up and down holding hit net over his arm watching for the wake of little fish, then lobbing it in with the skill that only countless generations of fishing tradition can manage. The fact that all he seems to catch is a size 8 left flip flop isn't a reflection of his efforts, skill level or passion for the art of fishing.

The beach hostel / house thing is about 20m from the sea, and if you open your balcony door you can hear the waves crashing. The sunsets are spectacular and about an hour after it has set the host and his wife (mainly his wife) have a big home cooked meal served up. The moment you look like you are about to finish something, your rice for example, a spoon appears by your right ear ready to ladle some more onto your plate. The trick is you have to finish just enough that you show that you clearly liked it, however you have to leave a little bit to show you couldn't eat it all. I find leaving food difficult, ( coming from a family with 5 brothers) my mum would cook big meals however she would put them in a bowl in the middle of the table for us all to dig in, leaving anything on your plate is a sign of weakness and like vultures you'd miss out on a tasty lamb chop if you looked like you were flagging. Darwin would be proud of my family set up.

The top floor of the Beach House is open, there is a kitchen, some hanging chairs, a couple of 'chill out beds' and a large dining table. It is perfect, there is a sea breeze blowing through, you can hear the sea the birds and the laughing of kids playing on the beach. Apparently people come and stay here for months on end, they write, paint, and generally relax. One artist (a guy from the Ukraine who's name looks like Mohammed Ali typed 'War and Peace' in the font Windings) stayed in his room for three months while he was here and just popped his head out of his room to eat.

A couple of fisherman on the backwaters

A washed up Manatee

This is how clear the nights sky is. Points for the constellation, bonus for the stellar object I'm trying to capture.

A kingfisher in mid flight. They are as rare as hen's teeth, so capturing one in focus in flight is as rare as rocking horse poo.

This is the obligatory sunset picture from the beach about 30 seconds walk from the door of the beach house.

We have started a habit, albeit for the three days we are staying in this Beach House, wake up whenever, have breakfast, jump about in the sea, back for a siesta, coffee while we email / blog etc and the hottest part of the day goes, then back to the sea, jump about and back for a shower then dinner. I don't know how I have time to fit all this activity into one day. I'm going to need a diary to manage my time.

Day 39 - Perv. Beach

After a morning snooze Laura and I packed our stuff, and as she wasn't tired, we decided to move away from Fort Cochin, as it was a bit boring, great if you like watching fighting, and Gelatos but apart from that there isn't much there. Before heading off I introduced Laura to the big Chinese fishing nets, and while we were there we spotted a couple of men fishing with weighted fishing nets, it is impressive, one was wearing a 'Ronaldo' football shirt, traditional dress in these parts.

We booked a ferry from Cochin to the island of Vypin once there we were going to head to a beach and I can finally get my swim on. And catch some rays, I'm still pretty much the same colour as I was when I left Wales which is a pasty alabaster talcum powder white, I think I reflect more light than actually hits me. To make the epic 30km journey we start on a ferry, the distance to travel is about 100m if it wasn't for the camera, clothes, laptop and phone, I'd swim it, however for 5p the ferry will take you across in the luxury only a fish market skip could match. The ferry is used by cars and vans too, and for the minute that the journey takes the drivers sit there waiting patiently, however within 0.5 seconds of arriving on the jetty, they are tooting their horns to get off, to help you picture this, there are  8 cars on the ferry, you'd think it was a 5 mile traffic jam the way they are all jostling to get ahead.

I haggle a Rickshaw down and we head off tooting at everything and trying to overtake anything that is ahead regardless of blind corners and oncoming traffic all while being on the phone. On arrival the 'Resort' looks nice, and is 50m from the sea. We throw our bags in the room and head for the beach. There is big waves, and quite a few locals, just standing about looking at the white people, then you notice some are taking photos 'on the sly' of the women lying there, it is pretty bad.

Regardless we both hop into the sea and get thrown about by the waves, slowly a bigger crowd starts to form, all staring waiting for Laura to get out of the water so they can have a perve and probably take some snaps with their phones. I get a towel and hand it to Laura as she gets out and I could almost hear the groan of 50 odd Indian men thinking "GIT!" It is pretty bad, there is nothing wrong with a crafty look at someone you find attractive, but they were just being rude. I think if they were doing it to an Indian wife, they'd have been told off by the husband. I, on the other hand just liked ruining their fun, standing in the way when someone was trying to take a sneaky picture.
After the beach we headed back to the room to have a shower and start exploring our 'resort', some of the other rooms are on small 'islands' on the backwaters, they look nicer so I start getting room envy, but this soon stops when I realise that there is hoards of mosquitoes waiting to pounce as you step out. We suss out a bar, and order some rum and cokes, and a couple of bottles of wine,
 "No wine, No rum."
"Ok, what do you have ?"
 "Beer."
"Ok two bottles of Heineken."
"Only Fosters."
"Ok, two bottles of Fosters."
He was a great barman, he turned a sentence into a 5 minute long conversation.  Happily the beers, were only about £2 for large bottles, which is insulting over here, but pretty good for Brits. I got tipsy, as we had food, a great selection of random stuff for me to taste. I gave 'Steve the gallStone a bashing', and after a crafty beer on the beach went back to the room and fell into a coma.

A bird on the backwaters

Perfect moment for an overtaking maneuver

Ronaldo's mate catching some flip flops

Ronaldo removing a flip flop from his net.

Day 38 - Flip Flop beach

Apart from seeing a fight between a rickshaw driver and a tour guide while I supped on a banana yoghurt shake it was an uneventful day. I did have the best Biryani I have ever had (sorry Syed's missus). I ate it at a road side cafe, where the man serving me literally had feet that faced each other. Look down, point the toes on each of your feet at each other and move your heels so that they are as far apart as possible (with your toes touching), that is what they looked like. If that wasn't enough to make the restaurant memorable there was a dead rat on the other side of the road, being eaten by crows. I would have taken a picture but I thought it was a little offensive for old "hobble-de-hoy", oh, and I didn't take a picture of the rat either.
I did venture down the coast / beach to a point where it said "defence, no trespassing" I was about to take a picture of the coastline beyond the sign when a loud speaker shouted " NO PICTURES!!" A millisecond longer and I'd have had a nice sunset snap. A bunch of locals laughed at me and I started walking back down the beach.

One thing I have noticed scattered all over the beaches, shoes. In a 100m stretch there must be about 100 pairs of foam flip-flops, I think that if they made flip-flops biodegradable, the beaches wouldn't be as honking as they are. As I wandered back I passed a few art exhibits, there is an art college in the area, so there is loads of faces painted on walls etc. It's like nice graffiti.

Walking through a park my phone beeped to let me know that it had picked up a familiar WiFi spot so I stopped and checked various messages, my Blog stats (up to 1700 hits!) and while I was there some lads asked if I could be in their pictures, so, like a smirking goon I had my picture taken with a bunch of 16 year old lads, and they had pictures of a 'white island monkey'. They all wandered off happy with the part of my soul they had stolen with their camera, and I started taking some arty pictures, trying out some new settings and buttons and making it look like I have a clue what I'm doing. I really  don't.

In the evening I try to go and see some traditional dancy thing, but the dance hall appeared to be closed or there wasn't anything going on. Dance is pretty gay anyway. I was only going to go because I thought it might make my blog appeal to a wider audience, oh well.

A painted log pathetic really.

An attempt at some 3D art crevasse thing

Central Park

A fallen tree

A couple talking about 'us' as a honking great dredger passes by, this is the stuff Romeo and Juliet was written about

Day 37 - Kerala Day one

I'm in the area of Kerala, more accurately, I'm in an area called Cochin Fort, the end of a peninsula, that seems a bit of a hotspot for backpackers and old school hippies taking time out from their FTSE 500 companies to 'find themselves'. In fairness they are all pretty good fun, but not the types to share a 'spacial shake' with. I have been hunting for a beach shack for a few hours and I think I have found the area that I need to be in. Laura is a teacher from the UK, she has a week off from teaching 8 year old cockneys and striking over pension reforms so will be joining me for a week, she has travelled the world over about 100 times and will probably let me know how I should be going around the country, I'm looking forward to her insights and advice, she will arrive at 6 am tomorrow morning, so I'll have to sit down with her and see what she would like to do, if she has a preference of backwater tour for a couple of days, or a beach lounge about.

I'd like to do some swimming, and, if possible turn this nice shade of red into something resembling a tan.But apart from that I don't really mind, I'm paying less than the cost of a bottle of coke for a meal, and I'm getting a room in a hotel for less than the cost of a meal back home. I think I'm saving money being here !

I had a lazy day and didn't take any pictures but promised myself I'd go Canon mad tomorrow.

Travel extra

In a week I will have no plans again. I'd like suggestions for my next destination. India, Far East... wherever I hope to get more than one response so I'll pick the most interesting fun one.

Day 36 - Off to Kerala

The previous day I booked a flight, taxi and thanks to three cashpoints in a row not taking my card, spent £15 calling LloydsTSB to tell them to remove the block they had put on my account. They said they hadn't and that I should try another cashpoint. The chirpy bint from Darlington or wherever, somewhere Northern was right. I was all fired up for a rant. I spent the day updating my blog sorting travelling arrangements and eating eggs. I would love to have a jump about in the sea, but I'm literally pillar box red I don't mess about when I'm sun bathing. I decide to take a few pictures of the locals.

A beach shack, the effort that has gone into the presentation is staggering.

One of the locals hoping for a fast ending

Took this picture at JUST the right moment. In the centre there is hovering bags, the blokes display collapsed just as I took the picture.

'Cos it's a bit poo ?

I have to be fair to Goa, this is a small part of it, and I wasn't impressed, it wasn't really geared out for travellers, there is loads of opportunity for improvement, and when they sort that out, the place will be great, the beach is good, there is loads of 'local' markets, where you can get your phone unlocked as you buy a Tuna steak, and your '5 a day' (daily amount of fruit and vegetables as 'dictated' by the UK government, for all my international readers). After speaking to people that have been here, I should have either headed south where it is quiet and ideal for resting your Gall bladder, or further north, where all the hippies are. As someone that hates hippies and their moral objections to capitalism, while using Facebook to air their issues on their Sony Vaio laptops in a Starbucks, I think next time I'll opt for the South. 

I think I'm ready for a little more madness. A week in Kerala should give me enough time to think of the next place. 

This gives me an idea.... I have a good budget, a sense of adventure, and a good camera, maybe people should suggest where I should go next... This could be interesting ! I might make another post for just that...

Anyway, back to Goa, to round my stay off perfectly, my taxi didn't turn up so I wander onto the streets to see who flags me down firsts. I literally make it about 8 steps from the front of the Hotel and a guy says "Taxi ?", "No," I respond automatically, "Hashish, MDMA ...", "Actually yes, taxi. To the airport", "Ok, 1200 rupees", "900", "ok". I should have started lower, but everywhere I asked said that 900 was about the right price, you sometimes get it for 850.

I was about 2 minutes behind schedule, thanks to the delay in one taxi not turning up and me getting the next one, I told him to step on it, but by the speed of this guy he thought I meant the floor pan of the car not the accelerator. We idled all the way there, overtaken by rickshaws with fat Russians in. My driver seem to think that the car was made of bone china too, so at every opportunity he tooted his horn to warn people, animals and small leaves that we were coming, this wasn't enough, he would deploy the drag chute at every bump turn and slightest hint of oncoming traffic. Luckily I ignored the warning to be there one hour before and opted for two hours. This had something to do with the fact I wanted to be gone asap. 

We arrived and without slowing his taxi, I got out walked round to the other door, grabbed my bags, paid the man, got change and headed into the airport. 

My bags were x-rayed for the millionth time, I'm pretty sure that if I had anything organic in my bag it would have mutated, punched a hole in the plane and escaped by now.

I'm flying "Spice Jet," something I once experienced after very spicy Chicken Vindaloo from the Barry Balti, the check in guy sees I'm tall and offers the emergency seat. For free. Wow customer service! I'll pick them to fly with again if I get the chance. The flight is generic, I land at Bangalore, where a few people get off, they sweep the plane for rubbish, a couple of people get on and we fly on to Cochin (Kerala). On arrival I'm faced with a dilemma. I have no idea where to go, where to stay, or anything, this is proper backpacking. I ask a Tourist info guy where all the people with back packs go. "Cochin Fort". A taxi there is just under 900 rupees (just over £10) or the bus is 50 rupees (under £1) bus it is, I'm not made of money. 2 hours later I'm there, at a market, luckily I had spotted a few rest houses and the eye catching signs saying 'A/C / Non A/C rooms available. No matter what the place is like I'll have a place to stay. I wander about for about 10 minutes and pick the first place I ask in. I'm hot and I STINK. I really need a laundrette, or I'm going to have to start rotating clothing.

Oddly enough the place I have found is called Park Avenue. It is the name of the road I live on back in Barry. I crank up the AC and lay on a bed with some comfort ! 

I pop out for a Biryani, and spot loads of other lone backpackers, mainly milfs, but with a day off the grid, my emails are bulging, I have texts, whatsapp messages and a load of things to do. The food is good, the first thing I have eaten all day, and within 30 minutes I'm sat on the karzi.

Day 35 - Goa bit pants really.

I woke up at the crack of midday and felt like I could have slept a further few hours, a subtle reminder that I'm not quite over the infection yet, that, and the ever so slight dull ache that I feel when I try to take a deep breath.

After lounging about and watching an episode of the Inbetweeners I decided to get lunch after a walk along the beach. Ahhhhh here is all the travellers! Every 15 steps I was asked if I want Weed or MDMA, I didnt think I looked the drug taking type but it appears I am a stereotypical nutter. I stop at a beach hut and get some lunch, it is so good. I have a mountain of low fat low spice stuffed poppadoms. Tasty. Probably not low fat though. After that I wander to another shack and lie under the brolly and have a crafty beer and a bottle of water. I know I sound like a tart but I'm still recuperating.  After two hours of lying in the shade jumping in the sea and sipping beer/water I think to myself....sun block? Too late. I head home looking like a lobster which was painted a curious new shade of red called "christ you're burnt." That should take my mind off of my gall bladder.

I have a burnt and restless siesta that turns into a sleep and I wake up at midnight  after having dreams of being water boarded at Guantanamo bay. It's just the bed, it makes you think you are being punished for something. I quickly check the room, murderise all the mosquitos, then fall back into a deep sleep.

The sunset down the street.

A bull wandering about the beach... as you do.

India is a beautiful place, but this is its biggest problem, rubbish everywhere. Everyone throws rubbish without a thought.

Day 34 - Goa

I appear to have gone to the wrong part of Goa...

I have arrived in a crap hole. No backpackers everyone is over 45 and from Bolton or Yorkshire. Might have to reassess my pre Kerala plans at this rate. I have a beer, the first one that didn't make me want to die in ages. I find a room that isn't utter awful, it is in a place called Popeys and head out for food. There is a concert on the beach loads of locals jumping up and down to Now 31 with the odd interruption from an overly enthusiastic lady egging on the crowds, "Are you having a fantastic time ladies and gentlemen?!" A couple of people let out a cheer. Loads of flies, mozzies and flying ants !! They are following me from the UK. I find somewhere to eat and they sell King Fish, something I used to love to eat when I lived in Oman so I tuck in to it.... with a Bloody Mary. No point letting the gall bladder take over my life is there! 

After food I want to go out and find other travellers but I'm shattered. The bed I'm sleeping on may as well be a sheet of steel it is so hard. I spend about 8 hours getting comfortable and having odd dreams. Goa isn't the place I was hoping it would be. Mind you im pretty sure I'm in the old age pensioners end of the area. Mind you if I was surrounded by partygoers I'd probably be having early nights and avoiding getting drunk anyway.

A happy family on a moped.

Day 33 - film night

During the day I decided to book my flight to Goa I'd leave in the morning  spend three days there and then head to Kerala where I'd meet up with Laura. Before that I had a whole day of nothing to get out of the way. It was going to require a lot of effort to do nothing so I had a little mid morning snooze.

 I spend the day going from horizontal to on the computer to back to horizontal. It is great, I seem to manage about another 4 hours sleep, on top of the 8-9 I had during the night. I manage to get the PlayStation 3 to run with the surround sound and the projector in the Cinema room. It is brilliant, they have about 4 LazyBoy chairs too, if I'm ever ill again I'm coming back !

In the evening, Sameep called (he and his mum, sis and dad had been to an aunties) he wanted to know if I fancied going to watch a film. I did, so long as it was in English or at least had subtitles. We were going to watch 'Mama'. It is a horror / thriller, well, it was supposed to be. It left us with loads of questions, and all of us wanted an 'Honest Trailer' to be made. I paid £3 for the ticket, and about £1.50 for the two cokes and two popcorns. Yes, for that price I wouldn't download it, I'd enjoy the evening, in a big reclining chair with a coke and a popcorn, Odeon, stick it up your arse. Having said all that, the film was pants but our drive home was interesting as we all reviewed the film and came to the conclusion that the whole thing could have been over in about 5 seconds had the ghosty thing actually did what she apparently wanted to all along.

When we got in I sat down on my bed and fell asleep. Everyone else stayed up, I was pooped, all that sleeping had taken it out of me.

99 rupees is just over £1. For all you can eat.  Gokul should be wearing a mask !

Day -32 shopping

I'm feeling better agony is an ache and imobility is giving way to flamboyant gestures and arm waving. I'm like a butterfly! A great big unshaven pasty turd of a butterfly. I sort one of those out and have a shave. I'm like a new Miles. The best thing that I can do it be taken shopping for nothing that I need or want. I hate shopping at the best of times and this isnt the best of times. Mind you I get out of the house and hang out with Sameep, Angana - his sister that wont date me (asked her a few times a while ago), Ronauq (bollywood) and his wife 'Renne'.

I won't go into the shopping experience, I bought a coke. We did go to a Mall where they have a KFC. Obviously with gall bladder infection I'm not likely to have any deep fried chicken, so I settle for a virgin Mojito. All the staff are deaf, it is great, you point at what you want, then sign the quantity with your fingers. Why they don't do this in the UK I don't know. They are all signing to each other behind the tills, and everything is done perfectly. On the way to the carpark, I spot some white people as I get to the escalator, I say " YAAAYYYYY".... they smile and say 'alright'..."White people!!"...their smiles drop. At least Sameep and I laughed. White people are so racist.

In the evening I'm invited to dinner with Sameeps family. It is great food, but my appetite isn't really back yet. We sit there and pick at snack after snack, till about 22:00 then the food comes out ! It all tastes great but Sameeps mum is acting as a food firewall, and stopping me eating anything too spicy or fatty. I appreciate the care, but it only makes me want it more. I'm a bit like that, of I'm told I can't have something I want it, it is a trait I like to call ambition.

Sorry no pictures, so here is a random one from another day.

Siamese twins with a rare genetic 'issue' where one is brown and the other is honky.

Day 29 - Udaipur day one... what the hell is wrong with me

Stomach has got a little better by the morning but the pain had been replaced by the feeling of a stitch, just below my ribs on my right hand side. It hurts to get out of bed. But we move on to a different hostel by the lake, it is closer to the sights and there is more backpackers there, so hopefully more madness will take place, but feeling a little frail I'm worried that I might not be in the mood for a party, the place is run by what looks like a vary dark skinned red haired Indian mad professor, with a maniacal cheesy grin he welcomes us in to the place. He advises us that there is a room spare and it has great views... He shows us the room with a view of the Lake Palace that only a months worth of sessions with a chiropractor will give you the ability to see, it does have a balcony however and I'm just glad to put my bag down and start dosing up on Paracetamol and whatever else I can have that might sort me out.

I'm working on the idea that I'm suffering from acid reflux, when stomach acid is produced and comes up the wrong way burning the tube a bit as it passes. I get some antacid, take it and my stomach feels better, but the barbed wire is still there. In fact it is getting worse, like a stitch it is starting to hurt standing upright, I apply a slight stoop and for walking I'm better, however, to stop any jolting that your body normally takes without a problem I have to walk slow... So now I'm basically an old man stopping slightly and walking slowly, not only that my personality has changed, I can't seem to make a joke or listen to anything anyone has to say, I'm preoccupied with trying to find a comfortable spot, a slight stoop but not so much that my swollen stomach gets squeezed by my rib cage... what a mess. 

Sameep leaves in the morning, so I try to make the most of the day, we go on a boat trip that takes us around the Lake Palace, it is a Palace... that's in a lake. It's like something you'd see in a Bond movie oddly enough. Half way round the 'Captain' stops the boat and we wait for more nautical adventurers, I spot a life jacket draped over a large life ring on the bow of the boat, I sit in it like a nest and relax in the sun. I haven't slept properly for 2 days now, and the voices I hear about the quayside drift away, I sleep for a few minutes and feel 10 times better when I'm woken up by a fatty rocking the boat as he waddles in. After the boat trip we head in to the City Palace, it is a Palace... in the City,  we had a little tour around, I was putting on a brave face, but every step was agony. It was worth it for the pictures and the views. I knew I was seeing amazing things, but I wasn't appreciating it to be honest. I'll have to go back.

A tranquil courtyard about 5 floors up.

Some fisherman, it seems that they aren't just trying to have a few hours away from the wife, unlike fisherman back in the UK.

After the tour I had a lie down and Sameep headed out to try and get some other drug he once had that worked well on his stomach once. I'm sure mixing all these drugs isn't a good idea but what the hell, it can't get much worse, I try to sleep, but the best I can manage is lying there trying not to hold my breath, the pressure hurts, breathing in hurts because of the movement of my diaphragm, all the time trying to find the sweet spot, it appears to be lying on my left side, mind you, moving in bed uses my abs and they seem to press on something. Not only that, the moment you find the sweet spot my abs relax and everything inside relaxes, then the pain starts... it takes your breath away which makes you tense and well as usual I'm in pain.  Sameep comes back and start to sit up to talk about stuff, the plans for the night (Octopussy night, crafty Rum and coke, food etc). 

We head out and try and have a normal night, we watch Bond, and after what is clearly a crappy film and a great example of how far Bond has come, I call it a night. I want sleep. As I'm climbing very gingerly into bed gasping for breath Sameep lets out a sympathetic  "mate..." and I start laughing, each laugh is like I'm being stabbed in the side, it takes my breath away and makes me laugh, Sameep's infectious laugh makes it worse, I'm groaning in agonising pain but I can't stop laughing. He's a knob.

I find my comfortable spot and Sameep says " I think you should come back to Ahmedabad," I was kind of hoping he'd say that. I feel like I'm giving up on some great sights, but I can't go on like this, I can't stand up, lay down, crawl, walk, and I haven't tried to lift my bag yet.

Udaipur is known as the White city, due to the fact that most of the city...is white.

Day 28 - Udiapur (Where Octopussy was filmed)

We had 'booked' a coach ride to Udiapur for one last session, a couple of nights having a drink or three, from there I'm going solo, I'm going to head off to Jaipur, then further north West, ending in Agra to see the 'Taj', then I'll fly from Delhi down to Kerala.
I managed to find a pretty good looking place that had a pool, and good sunset views but it was only for the second night, for some reason Sameep didn't like the idea of looking for a place when we arrived there so he booked somewhere else that had good ratings, for both nights. The journey up there was by coach and was 4 hours, luckily the seats went almost horizontal and I almost dropped off if it wasn't for the rumbling in my stomach and the ache I couldn't seem to get rid of.

The bus was driver pressing the horn more than a teenagers school shorts, he was weaving through traffic, and when we finally did get onto the Indian version of the Autobahn, he had to do an emergency stop, a heavy goods truck driving the wrong way up the fast lane of our side of the road, had stopped to chat to a heavy goods truck going the right way in the middle lane. The bus driver would have used the only lane left if it wasn't filled with people selling crash helmets, cold drinks,  a cobblers and fortune tellers.

Eventually we were told to get off, we were there... well near, we'd need a Rickshaw to get to the hotel that Sameep had booked, but after a few inquiries it turned out his hotel was too far away, we abandoned that booking too, and headed to the Rickshaw drivers hostel. It was ok, but not great, we had a beer, but it wasn't sitting well with me.
From the top of my pelvis to my sternum there was something amiss, my guts were swollen, and I was starting to feel a bit crappy, a bit like I did the night before, but this time there was no nausea. Being me, I decided to ignore it and hope it went away, maybe gassy beer wasn't a good idea, we eventually found a place that was run by a lady, she was tenacious and was determined to get us to stay at her place for another night, but we had found another place for the second night. Feeling a bit crap, I thought I'd stay another night on my own and have well earned day of doing very little. It was £4 a night so I thought what the hell. We went out for a Rum and coke and again, it wasn't sitting well, but the atmosphere was nice, weather was cold though, so I'm glad we didn't have a pool. Seeing I wasn't 100% we agreed an early night might be a better way of enjoying the place as I'll feel better in the morning.

Nope.

The view from the roof top terrace

The national bus stop for Udiapur

Number 8-12 Main Street, Udiapur, with the owners 'rides' outside. Turns out crazy paving is popular over here too.

Day 27 - Back to Ahmedabad

Today there wasn't really anything for me to do, Sameep and I were going to Udiapur tomorrow, however as there was little to do Sameep was going to use the day positively, and would go round some of the six form colleges / unis / schools and promote his website ( I would love to put something rude here for comic effect but there is too many of my adopted family members around me and I'd get in trouble... as soon as I'm out of arms reach I'll get a little more resqué) www.StudentWorldOnline.com, it is a website for students to learn about studying abroad, and for Universities to pitch themselves on a site against all others on the planet. We had three possible places to visit, the first place appeared to be in the middle of nowhere, down a bit of a lane, but the Principle was friendly and really interested in what Sameep was offering the kids (a free place to get info), the only problem was that there was only 6 of them and they had all made their decisions and knew where they were being educated. Not exactly the gold seam we had hoped. Needless to say it was a good place for Sameep to polish off his banter and turn on the charm. He loves it.

The next place was called Cambridge something or other, we went in to reception and was told to meet some lady, she thought of herself as the big cheese but when we asked her to make decisions it turned out she was just a mini babybell. She said the head of the year would be more of a Gorgonzola and might be more of the cheese level we required to get some results. We sat down with this one... whiter teeth and a bigger office... here we go....Sameep repeated the last 20 minutes and she advised us she was a Craft Cheese Slice, she said we needed the CEO. The 20 year old Stilton of the place, the big cheese. After a length of time that said "I'm busy make it quick" we were sent into the CEO's office, she looked 8. Sameep repeated the routine, by now I was picking up bits of it and was giving my two pence worth when there was a silent moment. She asked a few good questions and we were shoe horned out of the office. Leads but nothing solid, ideally we'd get to speak to the students, and get them to see the site, recommend it to friends etc...nope

Last place on the list was massive, we gained entry and was ushered upstairs by the pencil neck pretending to be security, his two mangy dogs weren't going to put up a fight if you wanted to start a Columbine either. In the office what can only be described as a Warlrus greeted us with the most dismissive hello ever. Sameep started the routine and she just said "can you email us your proposal," I think it is Whale for go away. Sameep and I left, I guess he'll email her at info@fattyboomboom.com later when we get home.
I started suggesting that maybe bribing a student to steal their classmates email addresses them spam the rest of the year for say £10 might work, extra £5 for doing another school, it is the Barry (the place) in me that makes me think the way I do.
In the evening we went out and grabbed the spicy sandwich that they had all been banging on about since I arrived and realised that their idea of spicy wasn't much hotter than a Saag Aloo. I was hoping it wasn't too spicy and I'd look like a fanny.

We got home and as the sandwich wasn't much larger than a toasty we ordered a McDonalds to be delivered, I ordered two veg burgers and a coke. The sandwich was a piece of cake (Miles 1 : Spice 0), not even Jalfrezi level, I smashed the McDonalds and after going to sleep for 3 hours was awake puking my ring up with terrible stomach ache. (Miles -1 : Spice 100).
In the morning my stomach was still aching but it was better, I only threw up once. So I thought I was on the mend...Nope.