Day 52 - A pot of beer

We all met and headed to the beach for a jump about in the sea, within 15 minutes of jumping into the waves and the churning sea I spotted an Indian girl swimming in my direction (the beach) but going backwards, I waded over asking if she was ok, it was rhetorical, she was clearly a little worried and every wave that went over here took her further away from the shore. I grabbed her arm and within moments Nicky had grabbed her other arm, we pulled her into the shore and coughing and looking worn out she thanked us and wandered off. It wasn't long before Hilary was in and jumping about like a mad woman, she also looked like she was in over her head and struggling, but she seemed to be enjoying it, I'm pretty sure she's slightly mad, she is smiling all the time.
The morning was whiled away and a board meeting was called to discuss the lunch options, after a lengthy discussion about the pros and cons of climbing the 200 stairs, we found a place on the beach that sold beer.

Selling beer requires a license in Kerala something very few people bother getting. So, to cover up their heinous crime they put their beer in a tea pot and give you mugs, it is genius and no policeman will ever work this out. It's the best cup of tea I have ever had ! As we walked back the sun started to set, so, with my expert eye and camera skills, I began to get people posing like they were holding the sun. Classic stuff.

I see this every evening

Hildog drenched in sunset

Hilary, Me, Nicky, Albert having a cheeky cup of tea.

Hilary and Nicky throwing some gang signs.

We all met for dinner and during the conversation Hilary told us about a small scar she had on her chest just below her collar bone, there was a mini defibrillator inserted under the skin. One day during high school her heart stopped and thanks to the fast work of people in the school and medics, she was saved. She spent weeks in a coma, and to prevent it happening again she had the defibrillator installed. She said the thought that she could have died left her with a massive appreciation for life. It explained a lot. In a way she is lucky, people go through life without appreciating a sunset, or the feeling of waves crashing over you.

Day 51 - Coffee and chatting day

With no real plan in mind I said goodbye to Peruvian in the morning, and 'Frenchy' and I headed out for breakfast, we craved a 'good' coffee, and didn't get it with our breakfast so after eating and chatting for ages we headed somewhere else to get something a little more fancy. I'd happily have a cup of instant but 'Frenchy' is a little more cultured than me. I should point out that 'Frenchy' isn't actually French, he is Moroccan, he speaks about 5 languages, including Arabic, and while everyone is different, he is one of the most interesting people I have ever met.

He told me stories about travelling, couch surfing, work, dating, everything. They all had me in stitches. Half the time he didn't appear to be trying it was just his French chilled way. Once we had found a place to get another coffee, we sat down and had a fruit juice. It wasn't long before my request for a WiFi code got us both chatting to a woman next to us from Boulder, Colorado. She was travelling all around India and, like me, writing a blog ! See it here ! My misconceptions about the Americans were shattered as her passion for travelling became apparent, as well as her general passion for life, it was inspiring, and made me reflect on the journey that led me here. The three of us chatted for hours till the sun set and we began to head back to our respective hostels, this is where we met Nikki, and Albert, Malta's answer to The Chippendales. The two of them appeared to be touring around India teasing every gay guy they saw by being friendly and approachable, they aren't gay but they had story after story of gay people offering them cheap drinks, places to stay etc. I obviously teased them about this. Especially Albert.

They were drinking cocktails and as we walked past the restaurant we all got chatting and before long we were all sat on the beach drinking beers and talking till the beers ran dry and I started repeating jokes. We arranged to meet in the morning and 'do' breakfast.

Hilary chomping on something that requires inspection.

Albert showing his displeasure at something

Nikki (Wolverine) looking smooth, beli

What a random day. It appears that, while I may talk a lot, I think I have met my match, everyone had a story or three to share, it was great.

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 22 - pre wedding day celebrations.

Early start is needed today. We are going to a pre wedding reception thing where most of the guests will be, then after a couple of hours rest we would be going to a music / food event, the winner of of a national Indian talent competition will be there Mirande Shah, oh and Sameep will be dancing. I put those two things together as seeing them both is that important to me. Sameep has been practising on and off for the last few hours and without fail at some point has come unstuck, so his dance should be interesting. 

We all got tarted up and look pretty good, I look especially tidy in my Indian long shirt thing. I have forgotten the name of it and after asking Sameep's mother three times it is embarrassing to ask yet again,  I don't want to look like a complete Western idiot so I'll just say 'long shirt thing.'

After the obligatory pre drive photo shoot we all headed in cars to a sports and social place that has a function room.

When we arrive there is hundreds of new faces and names to forget Sameep patiently introduced me to everyone and I smile and nod, attempting to make a joke or two within the boundaries set by taste, international etiquette, using broken English and trying not to mention any of my colourful exploits over the last few weeks. One that works well is for when they ask if I like the food, I stick my belly out like a fat guy and say "no" with a cheeky smile. After a bite to eat there is a singer some more schmoosing and we are heading back to The Palace for a siesta.


The next function was an evening do, that involved the music and Sameeps dance, it required a drive into what seemed like a rural area, but thanks to a clear night, the north star and a bit of luck we found it.

                Iran's got talent                                                                               Wrexham's got talent

As it turns out it was an area of ground that was lit up with a thousand candles and had food everywhere, coloured cloth draped across the open air eating area, and, at the side of it, in font of hundreds of people, a dance floor. Sameep went pale and I beamed with glee. I mingled while Sameep popped to find the dance partners for a last minute rehearsal. 2minutes later he was back "mate, that isn't the stage, check this out," round the corner was a real stage. Rigged lighting, 12 x 12 foot screen as a backdrop, smoke matching even a boom operated camera!!! Brilliant. Sameep went from a pale tanned Indian colour to pure Honkey white. For some reason he wanted to practise the dance more than ever. After more mingling and being introduced to many random people I met the Groom. Tall, slim, and a Colgate smile. I'm glad he is getting married, he's too good looking to be single, and it sounds impossible, but standing next to him I looked ugly. I'm still taller though, that's something I suppose!?

I spent the next hour trying nearly every food that I could find space for, before long music started and people moved to the mini Wembley stadium ready for the entertainment provided by members of the family, friends and there was even singing by the bride's father. Sameep did his stint on the dance floor despite deciding to get a Henna tattoo on his hand 5 minutes before dancing, he and the rest of the dance troop were flawless and only upstaged by the great voice and stage presence of Mirande Shah.

 Sameep doing the 'shimmy' part of the dance.

 Someone 'tagged' my hand after I left it unattended for 5 minutes.

Sameep cleverly getting the palm of his hand painted before going to dance...with a partner.

I think she won India's got talent or something like that. There was lots of singing dancing and laughing. I tried to take photographs dance and not look too out of place. A difficult thing to do when you are three shades whiter, a foot taller and dance like a drunk epileptic. The music eventually stopped and we headed for the car.

I love the idea of friends and family performing, most of the dances were based on the bride and grooms relationship and they all told a story. I tried to imagine the artistically talentless mates of mine bumbling about the dancefloor or singing to my family offending everyone with their 'dulcet's'. Some things just can't be transferred from one country to another.
As soon as I got in I was asleep it was a long day and a lot had happened.

Day 21 - Pre wedding preparations

This morning were going to go to a family members house for food. It is a tradition that for a week proceeding the wedding, meals are all taken at this house. I guess it is a bonding process and also allows any wedding plans to be discussed. For me it is a nice way to get bombarded with names faces and small branches of a family tree that, when seen in its entirety would look like a Giant Redwood wrapped in Ivy. I smile and nod a lot, for some reason my normally bad memory for names is terrible. I'm literally remembering nobody.
Everyone is friendly and really welcoming I'm starting to see a pattern in the questions...the usual where are you from, then "what do you think of our food?" (I do actually like it)  everyone seems surprised that I can handle the mild levels of spice they are giving me. Little do they know I used to deliver curries for the Barry Balti in my Mg Metro, the perk of the job was a free meal every night. I was using 'chicken Phals' as eyewash after a year of that job.
After breakfast we headed back to the palace to pick out clothes and get something that would fit my 'athletic' but long frame. Not your standard Indian body type. I bought some smart shirts a pair of black 'slacks' and and I was loaned a 'shurwani' a sort of long Indian style shirt that stops just above the knee. A man arrived to iron the clothes the shoes were cleaned and before long we were ready to head back for dinner at the food house. The morning would be taken up with a ceremony / brunch then an evening do at which sameep would be dancing at. It is sort of a pre wedding brunch followed by a pre wedding reception. The real wedding ceremony would take place the day after.

Day 20 - India, the home of the corner shop.

After a comfortable flight near the emergency exit and some great plane food I was waiting for my connecting flight to Ahmedabad a place further north west. Even though the connecting flight was with the same company you cave to collect your bag. Walk through a scanner before heading to the pre departure scanner. Where your bag is scanned and sent to the next scanner while you are checked over with a magic wand which beeps and whistles warning the user of the presence of metals which is all ignored. You are waved on with the magic wand and you head to the door scanner where you repeat the process. Once on board the bus which will take you from international arrivals to internal connections you sit and wait, this is to feed the mosquitos and get you sweating.
The bus takes you to the other terminal where you get frisked scanned and pass onto passport / boarding pass control. For security reasons your bag is scanned and you are checked for metals, the presence of which is ignored. There is a woman only queue but they don't seem to notice men using it which does make you wonder if they are very observant. We had time for a crafty bite to eat before we were on another plane after a quick once over by security of course. An hour later we were met by one of Sameeps nephews, imagine a Bollywood star. It's him. He drives us up the wrong side of the roads tooting his horn whenever he blinks or breathes (I think that's how it works) however I feel like he is a good driver. Before lone we are at his family house the street doesn't do this palace justice. The family are architects and interior designers. The house is over 4 floors with the ground floor devoted to the business. I have taken photos of the house but wherever you look there is a new texture or surface that catches your eye. The house is almost as nice as the welcome I get from he rest of the family. What a great bunch of people. The 'tree of life' on the staircase is a great feature lit by my favourite diode. The light emitting one. It is late so after a quick tour of the house I'm shown my room and I crash out. What a long day.