Porn Room

So after what seemed like an eternity of waiting we set off for the journey to Munnar. Fish shotgun the front seat which suited me down to the ground as it meant that he had to do all the talking to the driver. My social skills have all but disappeared since I’ve been in India. I am close to being mute. I was looking forward to putting in my earphones and listening to my music (thank god I had music as the alternative was listening to the worst techno music I've ever heard. I wouldn’t mind but the driver looked like the least techno person I have ever come across. He looked like he should be in local government).

I am shockingly bad at learning names but in this instance I didn’t even know the drivers name (Fish asked but I had switched off long before that). Regardless of what his name actually was he was known as Cautious Colin. This bloke has got to be the most sensible driver in the whole of South India. I think I could have walked faster up the bloody mountain. My patience was wearing very thin as I felt as sick as a dog and just wanted to get there. There is nothing enjoyable about sitting in the back of a car for 6 hours (the journey should have taken 4.5hrs. Way to go, Colin). There really are only so many games of I-Spy you can play.

As soon as I needed the toilet my mood went from foul to murderous. I nearly bit poor Fish’s head off when he asked if I could wait until we got there. The answer to that particular question was no I fucking well cant. The roads were so bad and we were bouncing about so ferociously that I thought my bladder might actually burst (what do you mean I'm dramatic?). I had two choices, piss my pants or get out and squat in the road. I told Colin to pull over and with my last shred of dignity removed I squatted in the road (with my arse cheeks gleaming in the headlights of an on coming car). Squatting when you’re not steaming drunk is just grim. That being said the relief I felt far outweighed the shame. Right, who wants to go out with me? What do you mean, no?

We eventually arrived in Munnar at about 9pm. As soon as I got out the car I immediately felt the cold. It was chuffing freezing (it gets really cold at hill stations). It oddly made me miss home even more. I can’t wait to get back and dress in autumn gear. Autumn is my favourite season. I love the colours and smells. September is my favourite month of all. It feels magical. Like anything is possible. One of my best friends, Kelly knows how much I love September so she said that she would go out and take pictures of the leaves for me so that I could feel closer to home. I got a picture and a message later. The message said, sorry pal, I got drunk so didn’t go to the park so here’s a picture of me picking my nose instead. Who needs autumn leaves when you have Kelly? Wuv oo, bitch.

Colin dropped us at a place called JJ’s. A very happy chappy who we assumed was JJ showed us to the last room that he had, which was at the very top of the building. I felt like I was breathing through my arse by the time that I got there. It was all worth it though. When we got there we found the most spectacularly gaudy room I have ever come across. It looked as if it had been designed to host porn movies or swingers parties in the 70’s. I kept expecting to see naked women with really big oversized bushes, along with men with oversized moustaches kicking about (I was very disappointed not to see either) It had purple and pink drapes as well as a mahousive oversized bed, covered with a throw with a horses head on (a design as opposed to a real horses head). It was pure unadulterated chintz. I totally loved it. Chintztastic!

It's magic

Fish and I arranged to meet in Ernakulam on Tuesday. It was a nice feeling to know that this would be my last ever train journey in India. Not that it made the experience any the more enjoyable. I had reserved a seat but when I got there, there was a man sitting in my chair. I asked him to move and showed him my reservation ticket but it made no difference. He wasn’t budging. If this was a few months ago I would have probably been too nervous to kick off but India has made me as hard as nails so at one point I was even considering dragging the scrawny little fucker off the chair personally but luckily enough another bloke came along and saved the day. I got my seat and no blood was spilt. Phew.

6 bloody hours later I got to the hotel to meet Fish. It was only a couple of days but it was still lovely to see him. My happiness soon disappeared though when he told me that on his way back from Mysore he had seen a tiger. How bloody jealous am I. I have been in this sodding place for 3 (very long) months without a sniff of a tiger. I was also the only person not to see a dolphin in Varkala. I have though seen enough elephants to last me a life time. Do you think seeing 50 elephants equates to 1 tiger? Also I still have my top trump card of once seeing a gorilla (when I travelled around East Africa) so surely that has to beat tiger? Now that I think about it who do you think would win in a fight between a tiger and a gorilla?   Answers on a postcard to Kate (possibly has too much time on her hands) Breed.

We popped back to Cohin the next day (just to get some wi-fi). We went to a place called The Pepper House. It was like a small haven of tranquillity in the middle of a world of craziness. We sat in the garden overlooking the ocean. It was so peaceful. That is until the young waiter came over to tell us riddles and show us magic tricks. I HATE any form of magic. Just by virtue of the fact that It’s not bloody magic. Unless you’re actually Gandalf the Grey I am not remotely interested.

He had obviously only just started to learn “magic” as it was more painful than normal to watch. He asked Fish to pick a card. He then made 6 piles of cards and asked Fish to point to the pile his card was in. This process went on until eventually (after what felt like a couple of weeks) he produces the card which Fish picked. Even I knew what frigging card it was. Fish is so cute though and was kind enough to put on a shocked 'how did you do that' face. Matey was beaming like he had just produced a live rabbit from a hat. The Harry Potter films have a lot to answer for.

We asked little Potter to organise a taxi to take us to Munnar. As with everything in India it wasn’t straight forward. A bloke arrived, so I started to get my stuff together only for him to say that he was just delivering a message from another bloke would come to take us there but he is going to be a while as he is packing his overnight stuff. What? About 2 hours later (and after more shit magic tricks that no one should have to endure) a very sensible man arrived to take us up the mountains to Munnar. I can’t say I was looking forward to the 5 hours car journey but by this stage I would have pretty much given anything to get away from young Potter.  Peace at last.

Ghostbuster Jelly Fish

I went out for a walk along the beach when Fish left. Now that he has left it is back to fending for myself in terms of dealing with the thousands of sales men trying to sell you their wares. Why anyone would come to India and want to buy a pair of neon devil horns is pretty much beyond me but every day neon devil horn man chances his arm just in case over night I’ve had a change of heart and can now see the benefit of owning such a pair of horns.

It was all becoming a bit much on the shop front so I thought I’d take my chances on the beach instead. Whilst I was walking along the sea front I saw hundreds of jelly fish (and for once I’m not exaggerating for dramatic effect). They were bright purple and the size of a big dinner plate. I spoke to one of the fishermen and he told me that on roughly the same day every year these jelly fish float ashore (to their death). He then showed me a huge pile of jellyfish that had been fished out and were slowly dying of the beach. They looked like something out of Ghostbusters. Their bodies slowly disintegrate but not before they flatten out to look like giant, purple, toxic omelettes. Rank!

The next day they had all gone (I am hoping that they had been binned rather than distributed to local restaurants) so I went to sunbathe on the beach. I had settled myself on a bed when Harry came along. Harry is a 60 odd year old man who is on holiday with his mum! He was a sweet man, but Jesus, the man could talk for England. Within 10 minutes I knew all about his wife’s first divorce (well her only divorce in fact), that he is unable to have children (something wrong with his tubes) and that his step daughter has anorexia. I was starting to want to take my own life.

He said to me that he didn’t want me to feel uncomfortable as he could tell that I probably get a lot of unwanted male attention. He wanted to put my mind at rest that he wasn’t that way inclined which I thought was quite sweet.  I later fell asleep only to wake up with him looking over at me smiling. He then said that he was watching me while I slept and thought I looked like a Bond Girl. Which bit about that is not unwanted attention? I quite like the idea of looking like a Bond Girl but I fear he might mean Judi Dench. The sun really ages you.

While I was on the beach I got a message from Fish, which really made me chuckle. It seems that Fish may have found his inner gay. He got propositioned when he was in Mysore. The opening chat up line was “Are you German?”, then when Fish said no the bloke asked “Are you gay?” I'm not sure how one question leads to another?  Fish was at the time dressed in an Hawanian shirt, looking at a big palace that is completely covered in fairy lights so I suppose you can’t blame the bloke for thinking that he might bat for the other team. I think Fish is still traumatised now.

As happy as a monkey with a new banana

Saturday morning came around alarmingly fast. I felt like crying when I had to leave the room, but I was very brave (if I were in the dentist surgery I would have been given a sticker). We got our final buggy ride down through the grounds and back into the real world. There’s a lot to be said for not living in the real world. I could get used to the high life. I might need to consider cancelling my date on Sunday with the lorry driver and hang out for a rich octogenarian with a heart defect instead (there must be websites for that). Or instead invest in truck loads of lottery tickets. To win I'm really going to have to meet them half way and actually buy a ticket.

We walked down to Kovalam Beach to find a place for me to stay, until I meet fish on Tuesday. I realised I was very much back in the real world when I sat down on my new bed and nearly broke my arse cheeks. The room had a TV, hot water and my beloved wi fi (wi fi is like crack cocaine to me. I come out in panic when I don’t have it. What I hate even more than having no wi-fi is actually getting some and not having any sodding messages. Arrgghh) so I couldn’t really grumble. When the landlord asked me which hotel I had just come from I didn’t have the heart to tell him (I hope he didn’t notice my Leela slippers!). .

I loved my little room though, especially considering that the alternative was to be sitting on a bus for over 15 hours on my way to Mysore. Fish on the other hand was the most excited I’ve seen him. He just left, all backpacked up and he looked as happy as you like. He is chomping at the bit to get his adventure started. Even the prospect of the bus journey didn’t dampening his spirits. I was like his mother making sure he had enough toilet paper and plasters etc. He just rolled his eyes and left.

The next time I want to be on any form of transport for longer than 10 hours is on the plane home. Talking of home, I only have a week left. I can’t tell you how happy that makes me. As happy as a monkey with a new banana (I don’t know how true that saying is as Fish told me today that monkeys don’t like yellow (he asked why all the trees in our complex had a yellow circle painted on them). If anyone can shed any light on this I’d be very interested to know. Not interested to look it up myself mind you).

I am starting to get nervous though seeing as I have no job to come back to and no real plan. I was meant to come to India, have an epiphany, come back charged with ideas about what I am going to do with the next 40 years and never look back. Instead I am just as confused as when I left but this time I'm unemployed. Good work, Breed.

Weird Spanish Film

Whilst we were on the beach we had a discussion about what to do next.  I was so in love with the high life that thinking about going anywhere else (other than home) wasn’t remotely appealing.  We decided that Fish will go off to Mysore on his own, for a mini holiday and I will stay by the beach working on this tan (If I don’t get asked to be in TOWIE on my return then there’s no justice in the world.  A lot of man hours have gone into looking this mahogany). 

The thought of sitting on a bus for 15 hours to go to somewhere I’ve already been just about sent me over the edge (I could get home quicker).  I think Fish could tell from the look on my face (and also due to the fact that I clearly stated that there was no fucking way I was sitting on a bus for 15 hours to go somewhere I’d already been before).  Fish didn’t take offence and probably relishes the thought of having a couple of days without my incessant moaning.  I’ve been here far too long and I’m just a jaded old tart.  I bore myself. 

We left the beach to go up to the pool (no buggy arrived to take us up.  Liberty).  The pool is amazing.  It’s one of those posh infinity pools.  When you look out you can just see the ocean for miles.  It is spectacularly beautiful.  The grounds are surrounded with stunning flowers that attract the most gorgeous butterflies and dragonflies I’ve ever seen.  There are even a couple of peacocks just mincing about too.  This place is like paradise. 

We checked out the menu for lunch.  The prices were astronomically expensive (comparatively speaking).  I ordered a coffee (which cost more than most of my meals).  He asked me if I wanted him to mix the coffee and milk together.  Damn straight I do.  For that price I not only want you to mix it together I want you to get a heat proof straw and feed me the bloody stuff.  We splashed out on a pizza too.  We really are living the high life!

In the evening we went out for a bit but I was loathed to even leave the hotel.  I couldn’t wait to get back to the room, get in bed and watch a film (do you see how I’m not really cut out to be a traveller).  We watched a film that was utterly compelling but not really something that should be watched just before bedtime.  It was a Spanish film where you end up kind of rooting for a deranged pervert to win the girl but instead she gets killed and he wrongly gets banged up for her murder.  Sleep tight then! 

Breakfast

In the evening Fish I we spent a long time discussing whether we should go to bed hungry or fill ourselves up to make sure that we were hungry enough in the morning to make the most of the free breakfast. We were so excited it was like we’d never been fed before. Fish (being the sensible one of the two) said we should eat, so we went to the lighthouse beach front to get some dinner.

Now that I’m with Fish people tend to bother him to come into restaurants instead of me. It’s brilliant. He is so happy to be here that he's still at the stage where he thinks everything is great and fun. I, on the other hand have zero tolerance and pretty much want to punch most people on the nose. Talking of punching people on the nose, it is wrong that I wanted to do that to a crow the other day? I have never hated any animal before but I have developed a massive dislike for them. What has happened to me?

As soon as dinner was over we went straight back to the room. It was only about 9.30 but I couldn’t wait to get into bed and watch TV (The TV was actually bigger than some of the rooms I’ve previously stayed in). This bed is fit for a queen. It felt like I was just resting on a cloud (does that make me an angel?). My only concern now is that no other bed is ever going to be the same again. Even my bed at home isn’t as comfy as this one. I thought that they might notice if I tried to nick it (along with the rucksack full of toiletries I’d already had away). And also I would imagine a bed is fairly cumbersome to travel with. Alas, I had to leave it.

After the best nights sleep I’ve had in India I bounced out of bed, chomping at the bit to see what delights breakfast had to offer. I wasn’t disappointed. We were shown to our table and then they pulled the seat out for me to sit down. I could so get used to this. After a couple of minutes of trying to act cool we then go off to the buffet section. The room is filled with more goodies than you can shake a stick at. I so wanted to take a picture but I didn’t think that would do anything for my cool status so decided I would resist the urge.

When we finally rolled away from the breakfast table (having severely overeaten) we went down to our private beach (I love saying that). Fish wasn’t ready so I headed off (I’m not known for my patience). I was only walking for a couple of seconds when a hotel golf buggy came along to pick me up, to take me to the beach. How cool is that?

When I got to the beach a man came over with towels and set me up on a sun lounger. He then gave me a flag and said that anything at all I need I just need to wave my little flag and he will come running. I just spent my whole time giggling at the ridiculousness that money can buy and also fighting the urge to wave the flag even when I didn’t want anything. I managed to hold it together though.

Living the dream

We arrived in Trivandrum station, then got a tuk tuk down to the first hotel. The idea was that we looked at all 3 in the short list and then made a (sensible) decision. Who was I kidding? We started at the poshest one (of course). As soon as a golf buddy arrived to collect us from the gate, to drive us through the grounds to the reception I was sold. You had me at golf buggy! We then rock up to the grandest entrance to a hotel I have ever seen. It was ridiculously opulent. It’s the sort of place that you see on TV and films but never imagine being able to stay in. Well guess what? The girl did good. I get to stay!

The receptionist was the most professional person I have met in India. Fish and I (more so me than Fish) look like we can barely afford a rice dish let alone a night in this hotel but she treated us like we were royalty. Bless her little cotton socks. She showed us the room and I was like a kid on Christmas day. I know you’re probably not meant to be so openly excited but it was hard to hold it in (I was so far removed from cool it wasn’t even funny). This place is the most beautiful place I will ever stay in ever. I was almost hyperventilating.

She then takes us back to the reception desk and within seconds a bloke is giving us coconuts to drink from and a lady presents us each with a necklace made of shells and puts a bindi on our foreheads for good luck. This place is fucking amazing. Fish then says that he will pay the extra so that we can stay another night. I am now on the verge of collapse. The only thing that nearly burst my bubble was the fact that after paying nearly £200 a night they wanted to charge £7.50 for wi fi. Greedy robbing bastards. I decided to live without wi fi for 2 days (it nearly killed me).

When we got in the room I immediately checked out all the free stuff. Boy, this stuff if top drawer (I can now barely lift my back pack). I am still sporting the snazzy slippers as we speak (they are my new favourite thing in the world). Even though it was the middle of the day I immediately donned the bath robe. it must have weighed about 2 stone.  Check this out; they even have a pillow menu. I shit you not. There are about 12 different varieties to choose from. They even have a smoker’s pillow. Not sure what that’s all about. Maybe it has a pocket for your fags and lighter or maybe it has a mini fire extinguishers attached? Fish and I should have got one as we are smoking like beagles.

If I thought the place that Fish booked was posh, this one just takes the piss. Everything was perfect. The room was enormous. The shower could have fit about 6 people (if you’re that way inclined). Everything was just utterly amazing. I felt like the luckiest girl alive.  Boys, I will never ever forget this. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. You turned Eliza Dolittle into a lady (if only for two days).  Check out the link.http://www.theleela.com/locations/kovalam/rooms-and-suites

Uli's tan

You’ll be pleased to know that I didn’t make a further spectacle of myself in my remaining time in Varkala. The sun was booming on our last day so Fish and I went to the beach. I nearly fell down when I saw Uli sitting there. Uli NEVER goes to the beach. I think it may have to do with his new love interest. She is a beautiful Algerian girl (whose name sounds like Petula but isnt). She’s a fan of the beach so it seems that Uli may get a tan after all. I really hope he gets lucky. I have such a fondness for him. It would be nice if he got his nuts in.

On our last night we went to a bar to watch a live band (but they never showed up. Much like the firework display we went to the previous evening that had NO fireworks). Uli came along, followed by Petula (that’ll have to do I’m afraid) and then later Mel joined. Mel is reading another hard going book. This time it’s about emotional intelligence. After a long discussion he admitted that he’s reading it in the hope of getting laid. I think he thinks it may give him an insight to the mind of a chick. Bless his heart. I told him if he stops reading soppy books, stops over anaylizing things (it took him about 8 minutes to figure out his next move when we played connect 4) and starts having some fun he’ll probably be beating them off with a shitty stick.

We all had a discussion about books (in particular The Alchemist, which I’m not a fan of, in case you wondered). It was bordering on being a bit pretentious and wankey when someone asked Uli if he’d read it. He gave my favourite reply of the whole trip when he said “how many pages has it got. Anything over 150 pages and I’m not really interested”. It’s still making me giggle now. I will really miss Uli. I actually felt quite emotional when it was time to leave. I am completely ready to go home and have no regrets in leaving Varkala but it feels like the end of an era to say goodbye to the boys. I had some really good times with them. It is a massive shame that Anand and Cina weren’t there to make the little gang complete. I miss Cina shit loads. We probably won’t get a chance to see each other again in India but she will be coming to London in a few weeks.  I can’t wait. Lock up your sons!!.

As sad as I was to say goodbye to the boys I was super excited to get to Kovalam to the posh hotel. I am so in need of a bit of luxury (I’m so very precious). It has been made abundantly clear that I am not set out for the life of a traveller. I am ready for my slippers and pipe (alright, I might have been exaggerating about the pipe). I am done with living out of a bag and smelling like a bin lady (Are there bin ladies? I’ve never met one but I imagine if I did I would smell exactly the same). Bring on the pampering.

Fish's ball bag

Thank the lord that we are leaving tomorrow. I am now the talk of the cliff (secretly I like it). I am now known as happy girl, which loosely translated means girl who was totally and utterly shit faced. For 4 weeks I have been sweetness and light so I don’t think anyone was prepared for drunk Breed. It’s not for the faint hearted.

The worst part for me is that people keep talking to me today and I have absolutely no idea who they are. I was ready to introduce myself to a girl earlier but luckily fish told me that I had been sitting next to her all the previous night. Doh!

The good thing is that I think I might have got it out of my system as the thought of booze is the furthest thing from my mind since feeling like I was going to die for most of yesterday. Normal service resumed and I was in bed by 10pm last night. I almost feel brand new.

Fish and I went for a massage this morning. I had been telling him how great it was and how much he was going to enjoy it. After he was done he came out looking a bit sheepish only to inform me that instead of the chicks doing it a bloke had massaged him. He said the bloke was rubbing around his ball sack (Fish’s, not his own) and asking him if he liked it. I can imagine poor little fish being ever so polite but terrified at the same time. To make matters worse he said he had hands like sandpaper. Fish is now going to have a massage in the next place (by a woman) just so he can erase the memory from his mind forever. Luckily I am here to remind him (and to post on the blog).

Tomorrow we are off to Kovalam Beach to cash in the best present I have ever been given. My beautiful, wonderful boys from work clubbed together for my leaving present and organized for me to have a couple of nights in a 5 star hotel. I cannot tell you how excited I am. How nice to look at rooms that we can actually afford (as opposed to the torture that Cina and I put ourselves through). We have a shortlist of 3 places and they are all the absolute dogs. I shall be sure to post pictures all over facebook so watch this space. If any of my boys are still reading the blog I love you all dearly and can’t even tell you how much this means to me. I have been looking forward to this for 3 months. I am a very lucky girl. Thank you.

The MOTHER of all hangovers.

Fish wasn’t keen on the idea of staying in the posh hotel for 2 weeks (by which time I probably still wouldn’t have mastered all the buttons) so instead we are at the beach, back in Varkala. Currently I am nursing the most spectacular hangover ever. I’ve not really had a drink for weeks but Christ on a bike I made up for it last night. Is it fair to blame Fish?

We arrived yesterday on the Superfast Kerala Express. There was nothing superfast about it. In fact it took 4 and a half sodding hours. It’s a shit load easier travelling with Fish though. Only one person asked “where you coming from” (I now just let Fish answer). This could be a cake walk (I don't really know what that means) from now on in. Someone got arrested on the train which was about as excited as it got. Luckily it was neither me or Fish.

We arrived back on the cliff and low and behold Uli was sitting at the same place as I’d left him. He had actually moved tables though, so that’s progress at least. It was really good to see him. Varkala won’t be the same without Uli being at the Spice Garden Cafe. When he’s not there it feels like there is something wrong with the world. He is leaving on Thursday and I fear that the whole cliff may fall down.

It feels really good to be back and to see things through Fish’s eyes instead of my jaded ones. I have not stopped moaning since he arrived. He had to listen to 3 months worth of rants in one night. The poor bloke looked exhausted by the end of the night. He has had a few rants of his own (well as much as Fish rants). He bought a pair of sunglasses and said it was a painful experience. He paid way too much for them but he’s not known for his haggling skills. We went to Spain one year, got a taxi somewhere and it cost 10 Euros.  On the way back we got another cab and the driver asked for a fare of 9.50.  Fish said I think you’ll find it’s 10. God, love him.

The Russians are back in Varkala. It was so good to see them. Their hands look even bigger this time around. The younger one said he thought I looked beautiful. Just on the basis of that and the size of his hands I now have a crush on him (so easily pleased). It’s a shame he doesn’t speak English. As nice as it is to be told you’re beautiful it can get a bit samey when that’s the extent of the conversation.

We went out for a meal with the Ashram lot last night and it was a great night (a contributing factor to that might have been the 2 bottles of wine I drank). After dinner we went to a birthday party and stayed out till about 4am. I have barely been awake past 10pm since arriving in India. Fish’s arrival has awakened the devil in me. I don’t really remember a huge amount about last night but know that I had tons of fun. I am so happy Fish is here. I have not stopped smiling since he arrived. Ah, well aside from this morning when I felt so shocking I wanted to take my own life.

Fiiiiissssssshhhhhhh!!!!!!!

Fish is here!!!!!!! I could hardly sleep last night I was so excited. We had arranged to meet at the hotel in Ernakulem. I thought I would be there before him but as soon as I walked in I saw his big smiley face. I honestly could have cried. I have not felt so happy in a long time. I am the luckiest girl in the world to have such brilliant pals and they don’t come much better than Mr Fisher.

He is booked into the Grand Hotel and there is a reason why it’s called grand. It is so swish. I am used to staying in places that cost about a fiver a night. This costs £35 a night (hope Fish has already paid). The room is enormous. It even has a desk for fuck sake. I have pretty much nicked everything that isn’t nailed down. So far I have a comb, sewing kit, soap etc etc. I’ve even nicked the shower cap. Not sure what I’m going to do with it but that’s not the point.

Everything is computerised. There are so many buttons it feels like it’s a control centre for Nasa. We have been here about 5 hours and I still haven’t worked out what all the buttons do. I am not very good with technology at the best of times. I am still learning how to use my iphone and I’ve had it for 10 months (without losing it. Personal record).

My bed is the most comfortable bed I have EVER slept in. I could honestly nut down here for about a week and I’d be happy as you like. The pillows are like sleeping on marshmallows (I would assume). And get this the shower even has a pull out chair so that you don’t have to bother standing up. That is the height of laziness. I am definitely going to use it though. Do you think Fish would mind if we just stay here for two weeks?

It was exciting enough to see Fish but it felt like all my Christmases had come at once when he gave me a shit load of stuff from home. He even bought me new knickers. I am now the proud owner of 5 new sparkly clean pair of pants. They look almost too good to wear. He also bought me some nail varnish too. He said that he had to get them in two different shops as he thought buying knickers and nail varnish in one shop might send of wrong signals. hehe.

So happy I could burst.

Retinas

Cina has left now so I am all on my lonesome.  It was sad to see her go although I’ll see her again in about a week, when Fish and I go to Goa.  It was really easy and so much fun kicking about with Cina. I miss her already.  I did realise that we might be spending too much time together though when I caught myself saying things like.  “Oh, that should be lovely”.  I sounded like I had walked straight from the pages of a Dickens novel.  I have a tenancy to mimic people when I spend too a lot of time with them.  Now that she has gone normal, common Breed is back. 

It’s hard work being here alone.  As soon as the blokes around here get wind that you’re alone, they circle like vultures.  I really just want to be left alone to wait for fish (who arrives in 65 hours).  I know I sound like a miserable old trout but there is only so much a girl can take.  My patience has completely run out (admittedly I didn’t have too much to start with).  I want to get back to the UK, to normality, where blokes ignore me (unless they are on a building site in which case I would be most offended if I didn’t get at least a wolf whistle).

I have pulled a muscle in my leg (so much for the gym) so thought that swimming would do it good.  I went to the posh pool and paid for the sun lounger.  The hotel manager said that he would bring my towel and change along shortly.  He came out about 5 different times, his excuses getting lamer and lamer as to why he felt the need to be next to my sun lounger.  He eventually gave up with excuses and asked me the dreaded question.  Where you coming from?  I reckon on average I get asked this at least 12 times a day.  Even if they used an “are” in the sentence it might soften the blow somewhat but as it stands it almost has the same effect as someone scratching their nails down a blackboard.  I am so sick of small talk.

He then told me I had cute eyes, which, with as much interest as I could muster, I thanked him for.  He then said that although I had cute eyes they were frightening at the same time.  He followed this up by saying that I had frightening retinas.  Who says that?  His English was fairly limited.  Why on earth would you bother to learn the word retina when there are far more important words to master, i.e. adding an ‘are’ to the sentence where are you coming from?  He then said I reminded him of one of his friends who also had scary retinas.  It was possibly one of the most surreal conversations I’ve ever had. I told him I didn’t really know what to say to that and after an awkward 5 minutes of him inanely grinning at me, he left.    Get me out of here!! 

Posh Day

There really isn’t a lot to do in Fort Cochin so whilst Cina was here we spent a day torturing ourselves visiting all the posh hotels in the area that had swimming pools. None of which we could actually afford. Annoyingly one lady felt the need to point this out and said “What is your budget as I think this is out of your range”. How very dare she? Mind you we did both look like we steal our dinner out of dustbins but that’s not the point. We did manage to find a pool in a beautiful hotel that we could pay a fiver to use for the day (Pseudo posh).

We also found a gym, finally. I probably lost more weight walking about, in the blistering heat, trying to find a bloody place than I actually burnt off in the training session. We found a ladies only gym but were told that we were not allowed to use it as we’re foreign. At this point I very nearly threw a paddy but managed to rise above it (see, I can be grown up from time to time). We eventually found a YMCA gym and were told that we could use it between 9.30am and 11.30am (even though we are not from round these parts). Happy Days!

The gym was full of the oldest, rustiest equipment known to man. The floor was crawling with bugs and there were cobwebs in every corner but I still felt a rush of excitement. It has been so long since I’ve worked out properly and it felt really good (even though I thought I might pass out from heat exhaustion – no air conditioning). I may well have overdone it slightly though as even typing this is hurting.

As a reward for all our hard work we treated ourselves to a day pass for the hotel swimming pool to cool off (not the one run by Mrs Snooty Pants). And following on from our day of decadence (excluding the grubby gym) we had dinner in the poshest place in town. It is quite possibly one of the most romantic setting I've ever seen, let alone eat in.  Dinner is served in the beautiful gardens of an amazing hotel. It is covered in twinkling lights and candles, all glistening against the backdrop of the infinity pool. It is like something straight from a fairy tale. It is the sort of place whereby you expect to see men proposing to their girlfriends (not two stinky travellers).

Cina went to the toilet so while she was gone I thought I’d pour the coffee. I poured mine with a huge amount of success but when it came to pouring Cina’s I managed to drop the lid off the coffee pot into her, already full, cup of coffee cup. Coffee spilt everywhere all over the very posh white tablecloth (this could be a reason I don’t eat in posh restaurants). I felt like a massive knob but luckily no one saw so I hid it with a nakin, until Cina got back. When Cina got back she moved the napkin and the waiter saw the coffee and thought Cina had spilt it. I love it when a plan comes together. It’s alright. She’s leaving tomorrow.

Tranny

I’ve been told off by someone (not sure who) about being too boring, writing about baths and dogs so whoever you are, you might want to skirt over this next bit. 

After all the excitement yesterday about the bath, there is no frigging plug. How’s your luck? I did try to block it with a carrier bag and a bottle of Dove deodorant, but alas it didn’t work. All the dreams I had of soaking in a hot bath have been well and truly laid to rest. I have just about got over the disappointment. 3 weeks and I'm staying in the bath until I look like one of those crinkly dogs (save the jokes). 

I seem to have picked up a new stalker. I have a very tidy collection now. This one is a lot less menacing though. He’s about seventeen, although looks about twelve. Little Michael works in the local bar and seems to remember me from last time I was here (I have no recollection of him at all) .He is very sweet and completely harmless but I could do without him riding his pushbike (and ringing his little camp bell) up and down the street, outside my window. Cina heard him last night about midnight.  The minute we leave the hotel he pops up, out of no where on his little bike. He can do a back flip though which was very impressive (Not whilst he’s on the bike). He really is pulling out all the stops. . Bless his little cottons. I can see me losing my rag with him soon though. I am not really known for my patience.

Cina and I went for dinner last night in an Italian restaurant. We were served by a young Indian man, wearing more make up than Jordan. If there was a camp off competition between him, Julian Clarey, Duncan Norvel and Rylan (as he is at the forefront of my mind, thanks to fatty) this bloke would win hands down. He showed me his painted nails (in case you were wondering he hadn’t painted his left hand (the shit hand)) and his newly plucked eyebrows. I’ve not seen a transvestite in all my time in India so I was chomping at the bit to talk to him.

I asked him if he had a boyfriend and of course he was dying to tell us all about it. He sat with us and said in a really quiet voice that we had to be discrete as no one knew he was gay. Are you shitting me? You could have the shittest gaydar in the world and you’d still not mistake this man for heterosexual. He was gayer than a gay thing from Gaysville. Also being plastered in make up and nail varnish heavily indicates you might only be into girls for their make up tips (he really needed some) as opposed to their bodies

He then said that life was really hard for him as it was a constant battle trying to fend off men. I quote “when you are this beautiful (when he said this he took his hand (the painted one) from the top of his head and then with an extremely limp wrist floated the hand down his body to point at his “beautiful” toes), then everyone is going to want you. I would say that 90% of the men around here are Bi-sexual and they all want me”. If I was to be kind I would say that this man was not a looker, if I wasn’t being so kind I would go so far as to say that he looked like the back of a bus. It must be nice to be so blissfully unaware.

So if there any gay transvestites out there then Cochin is the place for you.  You'll be beating 'em off with a shitty stick,  Fatty get your ticket sorted! You’re gonna love it.

Bath

I am now writing to you from my new room in Cochin. It is so lovely. I have a TV, mirror, hot water, balcony, wifi (loosely speaking) but best of all, I have a bath. I can’t tell you how excited I am about it. I have been dreaming of soaking in a bath. I’ve not seen a single bath on my travels so when I clapped eyes on this one, it felt like a thing of beauty (ignoring the stains). I squealed like a teenage cheerleader. Poor Cina nearly shat herself as she thought I’d seen something awful. She isn’t quite as easily pleased as me.

The other refreshing change is that my room/stuff is not entirely covered in sand. My last place probably had more sand on the floor than was on the beach. I miss the beach though. More to the point, I miss Puppy. It broke my heart to leave him. I cried like a big girl’s blouse. He’s so adorable that he’ll have people from all over the world eating out of his hand. I’m sure he’ll be just fine. I, on the other hand, might need a few more days.

It felt good to finally leave Varkala. It has been amazing and exactly what I needed but any longer and I think my brain would have turned to mush. Also I think it might be good for me to stay out of the sun for a while after fatty said I look like Rylan!! He might have a point. I think it’s fair to say I am sporting somewhat of a mahogany hue.

It’s so nice to finally get to wash my clothes. Everything of mine stinks and some of it is actually mouldy. I’m spending the day washing and cleaning. Sadly it feels great to be doing such normal chores. I was getting concerned that I would never be able to do a days work again. I have literally done nothing for weeks. I may need to amend these details on my CV when I come to find a job. I’m not sure saying I left a good job to sit on a beach for a month is going to be hugely appealing to future employers.

I have no idea what the plan is for the next few days but I’m happy to just mince about for a while. All the time that Cina is here I’m happy. Things are just so much easier when you have someone to kick about with. Cina is also great at small talk and bartering. I am painfully shit at both of those things so I just leave all that to Cina. It’s heaven for me (god, I’m miserable). She’ll be heading off for Goa soon but then I’ll only have a few days to kill before Fish gets here. I reckon I could lose a whole day just soaking in the bath.

It feels good to be able to finally see an end in sight. I’m going to enjoy the next 3 weeks and I’m definitely going to make the most of it, but boy, do I want to come home. Wonderful, beautiful Clarkey is coming to meet me at the airport and has said that I can write a list of things that I want for my first night back (I know, right. If Carlsberg made friends. Or was it Carling? I can’t remember now). So far the list consists of wine and cheese (I’m so very sophisticated). Dorothy was right, there really is no place like home.

Restless

Thank the lord. I finally have a plan. I genuinely now understand the saying; you can have too much of a good thing. I am bored out of my tiny mind. There was a time when days used to just melt away but now I find that I’m looking at my clock nearly as much as I did when I was at my desk in London. If I stay here any longer my mind will go into further, irreversible meltdown. I barely know what day it is. Left here for too long I fear I’ll be dribbling and barking at cars i no time.

It feels like I am in a low budget version of the film Ground Hog Day. I wake up, meet Cina for breakfast, go to the beach, play with puppy, catch up with the yogi’s, sunbathe, shower, change, Meet Cina and the others for dinner, repeat. That was great for a while and much needed but now I’m restless and running out of patience. People, who I once was able to stomach, now are just getting on my tits. There is a Spanish girl whose laugh makes me want to punch her square on the nose (it really is spectacularly annoying). It’s definitely time to move on.

The best part about it is that Cina is coming too. Cina has become a very dear friend and certainly one of the main reasons for me staying as long as I have. You can’t help but love someone who when she had a really bad ear infection got so desperate that she put tiger balm inside her ear with cut up bits of tampax. She is funny, kind, gregarious as well as being really easy company. It’s so nice to have someone to be girly with. I’d almost forgotten how to be a girl.

I think we both may have the capacity to get carried away as when we were trying to hatch a plan of where to go next, Cina mentioned Thailand and I was thinking of Sri Lanka. We have decided to wind our necks in and just to go to Cochin instead and see where we go from there. We set off on Wednesday so at least I will have something else to write about other than just puppy. I am going to miss him soooooo much. Maybe when I get back I might start to become a grown up and get a dog of my own (haha, or maybe not).

Fish arrives in 12 days. I’m very excited and not just for the bottle of wine that he is fetching. . It’s amazing meeting new people but there’s nothing like spending time with one of your best muckers in the world. India is right up Fish’s street. He’s going to love it.  Hopefully some of his enthusiasm will rub off on me and I will have a rejuvenated sense of awe for the place. Either that or this final bit of travelling will be the finish of me and I'll finally have the break down that I have been on the verge of having since arriving.

My hero

I’m so happy I could actually burst. After going through a period of completely giving up hope of getting my money back, last night I received an email from the director of GVI to tell me that I would get a full refund and that the money would be transferred into my account asap. It is all thanks to the wonderful Westy (and fat boy). He wrote a very legal letter for me (with lots of words I didn’t understand). If it were left to me I would still be sitting around, surrounded by legal books and dictionaries, looking very confused.. Westy (& Fats), I owe you big time and will be eternally grateful. As soon as I am back I am taking you for the biggest slap up dinner. You can choose any Harvester you like!

The other reason I feel so happy today is because I moved from my hut into a guest house so I have an actual room with windows and sunlight. It’s blissful. I had to move as Unni’s behaviour was becoming increasing disturbing. He would be there the minute I walked out of my hut or even more worryingly, when I would return after a night out (no matter how late it was). He started to get very angry with me and would demand to know where I’d been and who with. I am not sure what it is about me that lends itself to stalker behaviour in others, but by fuck, all the weird stalkers love a bit of Breed. If only I could have the same effect on the blokes I actually like. Dang it.

My new mate Kiko has moved with me too. Kiko is from Brazil and is just a cool dude. He has travelled all over the world but has a big love affair with India. I think things are so different for men travelling alone. Maybe I would learn to love it if the men weren’t quite so Pervy. Kiko is so lovely but unfortunately he plays the didgeridoo (why?). He was in the next door hut at Bamboo Village and now he’s my neighbour here. I fear I am going to have to learn to love the sound of the didgeridoo in the middle of night. Much rather that though than another night of worrying if Unni was going to kill me in my sleep.

Life is really good at the moment. I miss home desperately and cannot wait to come home but actually for the first time since arriving in India I feel completely calm and peaceful. I have a whole bunch of friends (not just dogs). They have pretty much all come from the Ashram and so are constantly trying to persuade me to go to. I have absolutely no interest in going at all. There are a whole set of rules, which I know I would break within about 20 minutes of arriving. It might be good for comedy purposes but I have no desire to stand on my head and meditate all day (I realise I may be simplifying things slightly). They all seem to be searching for a better way of life. I have a great life and don’t need to stand on my head to realise that. I’m a very lucky girl.

Poor Puppy

I hadn’t been to the beach for two days as the weather has been pretty pants but also I went to the hospital with Cina as she has a bad ear infection. It took us from about 11am to 6pm to get it sorted. This place is bonkers. We were actually turned away from one surgery for being white. The doctor came out and barked at us to get our driver. The driver then came, spoke to the doctor and then ushered us out. The doctor had told the driver that he’d had some western people in his surgery last week who didn’t want to pay so on that basis he wouldn’t see Cina (it’s nice to see that racism is a thing of the past). I felt so bad for Cina. She was in so much pain. She weakly said “Please tell him he can have whatever he likes”. I think she was so desperate she would have extended that to sexual favours.

Anyway, yesterday I went back to the beach. I was so excited to see Puppy. I had a bag full of goodies for him. As soon as he saw me he ran up the cliff to greet me. There is no better feeling in the world than to feel utterly, unconditionally loved. I was so happy to see him. I had the biggest smile on my face. When we got to the beach we pissed about for bit then I gave him his breakfast. Another dog came along so I shared the food with him but Puppy got protective and territorial (I didn’t think he had it in him). They ended up having a really bad fight. I didn’t really know what to do and then from out of nowhere a big fat fisherman came and hit puppy so hard on the back legs with a massive wooden oar.

I felt physically sick. Puppy was terrified and ran away up the cliff. I was so upset. I wanted to kick ten tons of shit out of the fisherman but I’m not in my own country so have to just accept that things are different here. It’s so hard though. The fishermen leave the beach about 1pm so as soon as they left I looked for puppy but couldn’t find him. At about 1.30 he came over. I have never been so happy or relieved. He is limping a little but he’ll be fine. We chipped about all day together. He even came in the sea with me. When I went to lunch he came to sit under the table and when I went to the toilet he was there waiting outside the door. All these years I thought I wanted a man when all along all I need is the love of a dog.

Because of puppy I met a really nice English couple. While puppy and I were messing about by the water this couple came over. Puppy bounded up to them and then we all got talking. I was saying how much I liked it here and that I had loads of friends. They looked at puppy and then at each other and I could see them thinking; this poor delusional girl thinks that all these dogs are her friends. They invited me to lunch (they probably felt sorry for me). So puppy and I went for a drink with them. It was my first beer in 10 days. It was bloody lovely.

Yvonne and Alan are really sweet. They had been together for about 5 years. They met on Match.com. I think Yvonne was 60+ and Alan was 50+. Apparently he has a thing for older women. They are yet to live together and I felt that there was some underlying tension surrounding it. I get a sense that Yvonne is quite happy as she is, but I also get the feeling that if Yvonne doesn’t move in with Alan soon he is going to find himself a new lover. He'll have to start knocking about in pop in parlours.

They were so kind to me. They insisted on buying the beer for me, as well as giving me a packet of cigarettes and a bottle of sun cream. How cute is that?  The kindness of strangers never ceases to amaze me. It really has a big impact on me. It makes me want to be a better person. Do I sound like a hippy? Is it time for me to leave?

Puppy

I managed to get some sleep even though I kept dreaming about Unni trying to kill me in my hut. When I woke up I did my exercises, (which was painful. I am so unfit). I then went outside to sit on the balcony and write, when I saw Cina bounding towards me. She'd just had a massage by the same two girls. She had a massive dirty smile on her face and confessed that she too had enjoyed it a bit too much and needed a man instantly as she feared she might be a lesbian. It really made me giggle and made me feel like less of a raving pervert.

I ditched the writing in favour of going to the beach with Cina (I am so easily distracted). On the way I bought loads of food and water for the dogs. The beach has about 10 resident stray dogs. I have a favourite.  I’ve named him Puppy. He comes to sit with me everyday. I am more than a little bit in love with Puppy. He is the cheekiest of all the dogs and one of the smallest. In the beach dog hierarchy, Puppy is very low down in the pecking order. He regularly gets duffed up by the other dogs. He’s a massive bender and completely submissive. That being said, the other day he did give it the right large when he saw a massive Great Dane at the top of the cliff, but I'm assuming that he’d already calculated that there was no chance of the dog/pony ever being able to reach him.

The beach is amazing but not just for the obvious sand, sea and sun. It’s perfect for people watching. Varkala is rammed full of hippies so you regularly see people standing on their heads and other weird and wonderful sights. There is a bloke who goes everyday. He looks the spitting imagine of Gollam (just slightly taller). He wears dresses and more ankle bracelets than would be necessary on the set of a Bollywood movie. There's nothing that's going to pretty this poor man up. He sunbathes in skimpy pants, with his legs wide open. Its best to let your breakfast go down for a couple of hours before heading to the beach in fear of throwing it straight back up again at this sight Gollam, spread eagle

There's a big chubby Indian woman who sells fruit on the beach. She is spectacularly rude and intimidating. She wanders around the beach welding a machete which, she savagely cuts the fruit with. She is massively offended and painfully rude to people who don’t want to buy her fruit. I oddly really like her. She is so bad that it makes me giggle. Being asleep is no deterrent either. She thinks nothing of waking people up to ask them if they want fruit. She was standing over a woman for about 5 minutes shouting at her. Madam, Madam, MADAM and when the poor woman finally opened her eyes she put on her most angelic face and softly says Fruit?  Terrifying.

I'm now proper brown and feel great but I'm a little bit concerned that I’ll end up looking like David Dickinson by the time I get back. Or at least an extra on TOWIE.  There's an element of guilt attached to living the high life when I was meant to be helping under privileged kids but I think I'm prepared to give up my dreams of winning the Nobel Peace Prize and just relax and have a nice time.  Surely I've earned it?  

Hot water

I think I mentioned before that I get a bucket of hot water delivered to me every day (I’m so precious). It used to be an old guy that delivered it but it seems that the baton for this particularly chore has been passed on to the younger guy who works here, Unni. I saw Unni out yesterday and he asked if I would help him with his English, one day. I said of course I would (I could hardly say no) so this is how it came to pass that I ended up having one of the oddest dinner dates known to man.

It turns out, over a very awkward meal, that Unni wants me to help him to put status updates on his Facebook page. He told me some of the things that he wanted to write.  I am still cringing now. In one of the posts he wanted to say that English men understand what is in his heart. He said that he felt in tune with English men and that he knew that they could understand his soul. What English men has he been meeting? The most scary post though (and believe me I did try to talk him out of it) was yet to come.

Two years ago he had met a couple (English. He seems very partial to the English). They were called Judy and Joe (or something like that). He had gotten along with them really well whilst they were here and he had told them that if he had children he would name them Judy and Joe, accordingly. That in itself is pretty full on and would have put the fear of god in me, but it seems that two years after (with no word from the couple) he is still keen on labouring this point.  So, he wanted me to write that what he had said was true and he still felt the same way.

I start to compose this cringy message to the couple, who I can imagine sitting in England reading it, thinking who the hell is the guy. I start the message by writing a greeting but whilst I am doing this he stops me to say that it’s not going to be a message to them but instead e's going to post it on his wall. What?? Do you want to run that past me again? People write some strange shit on Facebook but this has to be one of the creepiest. I tired to explain that this might seem quite weird for the couple when they saw this plastered on his wall but then realised, what do I actually care. It’s really none of my business.

After the Facebook debacle the conversation dried up a bit (my mind was in melt down). To fill time I thanked Unni for bringing me the water each day and asked him how long he had worked at Bamboo Village. Get this, he doesn’t work there!! This man comes from his house each day at the time same time to bring me a bucket of hot water and doesn’t even work here. Shut Up!!! I am now a little bit scared of Unni. He is either the most sincere, simple, kind, naïve man I have ever met or else he is utterly, scarily insane. I genuinely don’t know which.  

Coming to America

I went for a walk along the cliff and whilst I was out I saw Cina (Cina is the Swedish lady with the great body, who I previously called Tina. Ooppss). We had breakfast together (fruit salad as I now on a diet. I have 6 weeks to lose about 5 stone. I might be exaggerating slightly but that’s how it feels). Cina is so lovely. She is one of the most positive people I’ve ever come across. She has her own gym and restaurant in Sweden but is going to sell up and travel the world. I have so much respect for her. It’s also so nice to have proper girly chats. I’m really happy she’s still here.

After breakfast I went for a massage. It is the first one I’ve had since arriving in India and so felt it was fully deserved. In Varkala massages are as cheep as chips. It was £3.50 or 45 minutes or £4 for an hour. I splashed out and went for the hour (get me). I was told to go into the little side room and get naked, which I duly did (any opportunity) and then laid down nervously awaiting the lady. Instead of getting one lady, two arrive!

I shit you not it was the most sexual thing to happen to me ever. So imagine it. I’m completely starkers, two young girls then dribble hot oil all over me and then slowly caress it into my naked body. I’m talking boobs, lady garden, the whole shebang. I embarrassingly found myself making satisfied sex sighs. It was truly heavenly. Whilst one is massaging my hands the other was caressing my buttocks. I felt like Eddie Murphy in Coming to America when he gets bathed by all those chicks.

Just when I think things couldn’t possibly get any better, one of them started to plait my hair. Now if there’s one thing that is going to do it for me it’s someone playing with my hair. At that moment I could have died and I would have felt content with my lot. It was epic.

I came out of there some what dazed and confused, not to mention slightly questioning my sexuality. I saw the guys on the way home and told them all about it. I thought they might but chomping at the bit to get up there and have a massage but it seems even the promise of young chicks writhing over their naked skin is not enough to lure them away from the table. Today they were discussing Stalin! Hot massage or talk about Stalin??? It’s a toughie!

Deep and meaningful

By the time I got back to Varkala I felt like tiger from Winnie the Poo. A really kind Indian girl had helped me on the train (I didn’t really need any, but it was sweet all same), the sun was booming, and I felt full of the joys of spring. I didn’t even get upset with my amorous tuk tuk driver when he asked me if I liked sex. I just told him that it had been so long I couldn’t really remember, but as I recall it, I think it’s something that I’d like to take up again, as soon as I get home.

I got back to my little mouldy hut but now had a new found fondness for it. All it needed was an airing and for all my clothes to be washed again. No problem. I dumped my stuff and went for a coffee at the local restaurant. I shouldn’t have been surprised, as I was only away for 3 days, but all the guys were in exactly the same place as I’d left them, with the noted absence of the Russians. Uli told me that the Russians had gone travelling with two German girls for a week. Neither party speaks the others language (add to this the Russians are completely nuts). I can’t wait from them to get back to find out how they got on (Mel speaks Russian so can translate. Clever clogs).

Anand was there too. I don’t think I’ve written about Anand before. Anand comes from Kerala (although he's the most non-Indian Indian I have ever met) but speaks perfect English. He has his own company and recently finished a big contract, so came out for a drink to celebrate.  He ended up in Varkala, at the local restaurant, and has been here ever since. That was about 10 days ago. He seems in no rush to leave either.  

Varkala is a very difficult place to leave. I have just paid for another week (and then I’m definitely leaving). I have some serious sunbathing to do. It’s the only place in India you can get away with wearing a bikini. If I’m going to get me some of that sex stuff the tuk tuk driver was referring to I need to sort out my ridiculous tan. I don’t want to be naked in front of someone whilst looking like I am still wearing T-shirt and shorts.

The table was littered with very high brow books. Thank fuck I have a kindle as The unlikely pilgrimage of Harold Fry isn’t really in the same bracket. They are a really nice bunch of guys but quite possibly all too intelligent for their own good. They have an average age of about 27 years old. Surely they should be out partying and pulling chicks. Instead they all sit around this same table all day (and night) having conversations that are always intensely deep and far too intellectual for my liking. I don’t mind a deep and meaningful conversation sometimes but occasionally I just want to talk about cock or football and just have a giggle. Clearly I'm made of very different stock

Ukulele

I woke up to a view of the water and wildlife all around. It was utterly enchanting. I felt really at peace with the world (it won’t last). I went out on deck to find Karin and Phillip already up. They are such easy company. I really couldn’t have chosen better people to do this with. I felt really happy and content. You can imagine my glee when I realised for breakfast we were having eggs. There were 3 of us and they served up 9 eggs. As you know, I love an egg but 3?? Come on, even I think that’s excessive. To be fair I still couldn’t get my head around the fact that people just brought us stuff. I felt so grateful I would have eaten anything that they served.

The day was just perfect. It feels like I was in a different world. India is the noisiest, most bonkers place on the earth but being on the backwaters feels like you are in a paradise world. It is genuinely like being in a BBC nature programme. Everywhere you look there is something beautiful and awe inspiring. My face actually hurt from smiling so much. I just wished that all the people I love could see all these things too. My Grandad, god rest his soul, would have thought that this was perfect. I hope you can see it from where you are Granddad.

Along the way we saw a dragon boat race. It was pretty amazing. Some of the boats are enormous. They hold 102 people (so, I’m told. I lost count after about 7). It was like a carnival on the water. For miles people were out of their villages, lining the water edge, waving at the boats. It felt amazing to be part of it. It also appeased my constant desire for attention. These are the times when I fall in love with India. They’re also the times where it just feels great to be alive. At that time there was no where else in the world I would have rather been. They may be few and far between, but when these moments come along they are so wonderful that they will be permanently etched on my mind and soul.

When I didn’t think the day could get any better Phillip got his ukulele out (not a euphemism). It was so much fun. We all sang along (me badly) to all sorts of shit. I felt so comfortable with them that this felt like the most natural thing in the world. Generally I would have to be on my 2nd bottle of wine before contemplating signing.  Phillip sang Calendar Girl by Neil Sedaka and I thought I would burst with happiness. My Dad loves Neil Sedaka and used to play this song in the car. It is so dear to my heart. It was the perfect day and I went to bed with a very happy heart.

We eventually arrived at Alleppey on Monday morning and reluctantly made our way to the station. Within seconds you are abruptly reminded that you are still in India. The noise sounds almost deafening after a whole weekend of peace. I was sad to say goodbye to Karin and Phillip but I felt like this weekend had restored my faith in India, life, everything. I felt rejuvenated and ready to get on with things. You never know, I might even stop moaning.

Rummikub

After the tranquil boat jaunt we then had one of the most stressful journeys imaginable in order to get back to the house boat in time. To cut a long and traumatic story short. We saw two accidents. In the first one, a little girl got knocked off a bike (she was okay. Phew). I totally shit myself though. I reckon I’ve only just regulated my heartbeat now. The second one, a car hit the back of a bus. Annoyingly it was a woman driver so the tuk tuk driver and Phillip thought that this was most amusing. It’s great to see that sexism is alive and well in all continents.

We then drove through a village where there were about 20 men, all standing in the street eating. They waved for us to stop, which the tuk tuk driver duly did. Bear in mind that we’re already late and getting a bit stressy about arriving to the boat in time. The guys then offer us cups of this rice pudding type gear to celebrate the Onam festival. It was such a sweet gesture so we all accepted but we hadn’t bargained on it being nuclear hot.  The tuk tuk driver tells me I need to hurry cause we’re late. You fucking stopped. So after irreparably scalding the roof of my mouth we set off and arrived (an hour late) just in time to get on the boat.

It felt immediately peaceful. I had my own little room with an en suite bathroom. How very posh. I also had, in my bathroom, a huge spider. He was the size of a fist. I don’t actually mind spiders. I’m pretty cool with most things except for frogs, which are the spawn of the devil. I told Karin and Phillip they should come and see him. Phillip gallantly said that he would catch him and release him into the wild. He came out about two minutes later with a glum look on his face. Sadly in his attempt to free the spider, he accidently killed him instead. This blog is turning into a video nasty for insects. I didn’t even get a chance to name this one. If I had, he would’ve been called Gary.

It wasn’t long till we moored up and then we were brought our dinner. We had 3 staff (how very decedent). Only two were on board. The third arrived whilst we were docked and said that he was sorry he was late but he was visiting his friend in hospital. He said that he and his friends were in a car accident. I then asked if everyone was okay and he said no my friend is dead. Talk about kill the conversation. He seemed quite chipper though. I on the other hand was distraught.

After dinner Karin and I played a came called Rummikub. It’s essentially a card came but has been changed so you use little peg/counters instead. I was utterly shit at it but I loved playing. I am a massive game nerd. I love to play games. The Breeds’ play games at Christmas time and it’s what I look forward to most (that, and getting lots of stuff!!). I am the undisputed champion of Downfall (although I can just see our Jo reading this now, imagining that she has at some stage beaten me. In your dreams, Joey). If anyone thinks that they can beat me I will happily defend my title (even though the title is only really in my head). 

Dear diary.  Smashing day.  Night.  x

Rare Kingfisher sighting.

On Saturday I was woken up by a phone call from Clarkey. She was still very drunk from the night before and it made me miss home massively. She said that she had spent the night with Andy and Kate and that they'd made me a welcome home banner. How cute is that? She also told me that I’m very loved. Sometimes it’s just nice to hear it.

I was already beaming from the phone call but then Karin bought me a present. You might not get quite as excited about it as I did when I tell you it was a tube of glue. My Birkenstock’s (they’re sandals, Dad) are on their last legs. They are the most comfortable shoes in the world but the sole is coming away so I keep falling over (even without a drink). Karin had heard me moaning about it (and seen me trip over numerous times) so she bought me a tube of glue to fix them (apparently there was a man in the street with a table full of tubes of glue? I hadn’t realise that the demand for glue was so high in Kollom). I’m always astounded by people’s kindness. I was really touched. It worked too. I have only tripped over once since!

As well as the houseboat we also arranged for a punted canoe trip through the narrow backwaters of Kollom. The back waters are quite possibly the most tranquil, beautiful setting you can imagine. There is wildlife everywhere. David Attenborough would get an instant boner. I was so excited to see my first ever Kingfisher. It is the most majestic bird I have ever seen. When it flies and the sun catches its wings, it is the most beautiful blue colour I’ve ever seen. I was very chuffed with myself. It was only after a few hours that I realised you can’t move for frigging Kingfishers. My rare sighting, all of a sudden, didn’t seem quite as impressive.

Even though it was stunningly beautiful 3 hours is too long. My arse had gone complete gone to sleep and I found that all I was wondering how Charlton were getting on (I should’ve saved myself the worry. They lost. They are officially a shower of shite). My attention span is such that it is almost impossible for me to concentrate on anything for 3 hours in one go. I was happy to finally get off the canoe and (after about 20 minutes) to feel my arse again (annoyingly it’s still big).

Friendly Award

We got a taxi to Kollam straight to a hotel we’d found in the Lonely Planet. It was quite a grand entrance but the rooms were pretty basic (and expensive). I was showed to my room but the first two rooms were flooded (standard). Eventually after finding a dry room we all set off to sort out a deal for a house boat. It’s ironic the amount of stress you have to go through in order to arrange a weekend of peace and tranquillity. People crowd round you like you’re a member of a boy band. Everyone is trying to get you on their boat (still funny). There was a point when I thought that it might be easier to forget about it and just head back to Varkala. Nothing is ever straight forward here.

We needed some time to think over things so we got a tuk tuk to the harbour, where we thought we would find somewhere (relatively) quiet to sit and discuss the plan. Our driver was a bloke called Sudhi. He was telling me that he’d won an award for being the friendliest driver in Kerala (at a rough estimate there must be a gazillion tuk tuk drivers in Kerala). I’m not entirely sure who runs this competition or how it’s judged, because in the whole scheme of things old Sudhi didn’t seem particularly friendly  (well not enough to win an award). I would've only scored him a 7 out of 10 in the friendly stakes. If it were down to me I would dethrone him immediately.

He then produced an A4 folder, from under his chair, which had a photocopy of the paper cutting from when this story had been published. The story was about 10 years old and the picture was so faded it could have been a photograph of me and I still wouldn’t have recognised it. He had then filled the rest of the folder with letters from tourists saying how he was the happiest, friendly tuk tuk driver in Kerala. I had to take a sneaky picture as it tickled me so much. He has blatantly requested for these people to write him letters, as unless I've been doing it wrong all this time, a small tip of monetary value tents to be a much more preferred method of showing ones gratitude

We then went to the liquor store to get some booze for the boat. Phillip asked me how many beers I would drink. The actual answer should have been 7 bottles but after he said that he was only getting 2, I thought I should show some decorum and said about 4 or 5 would be fine. He plumped for 4. Argghh.

We then went back to the hotel. The view over the river was amazing so we sat outside, overlooking the water, drinking beer and watching the world go by. We saw an enormous fruit bat fly over and then hang in a nearby tree, and that was all it took for me to go to bed very happy, with a big smile on my face.

Sit on my boat.

I woke up early to a message from Mr Amazing (he might not be quite as amazing as I first though. Grrr). It appears I’ve been dumped before I’ve even been on a date (is that even possible?). I don’t generally laugh when I get blown out but this text was brilliant as he sent it before he’d finished (Fail!). It was a really short message and ended with him saying “Have dump”. I can only assume that he meant to say have fun (you’ve got to love predictive text). Or maybe not, maybe he was going to say “Have dumped you” Who knows?

He followed this up with another message saying “LOL, sent message before I’d finished”. LOL??????????? You can’t bin someone and then tell them how you are laughing out loud. I think Mr Amazing might have missed the lesson on how to dump chicks with an appropriate level of grace.

On the flip side, and to level out receiving a shit mesage, I received an email from Trip Advisor congratulating me on earning my first helpful vote from another traveller. Boom!. See, there is a point to me! The fortune teller’s prediction of me bringing joy to the world starts here. Watch this space.

Aside from the getting dumped part I was in a really good mood. I felt really excited to have a plan. Karin, Phillip and I are off to Kollom to get a houseboat to Alleyppey. We just get to chill on a luxury floating house for a couple of days. The boat goes all through the back waters of Kerala and is meant to be beautiful. It sounds idyllic and it can’t come soon enough. I also love the fact that while we’ve been trying to arrange this, people have been offering for me to “come on their boat”. Hahahaha. I’m sorry but it’s still funny. Even if I am the only one laughing (out loud).

I’m super excited about the house boat but it’s also nice to have people to kick about with. Everything just becomes a whole heap easier when you're with other people. Karin and Phillip and the perfect companions. They are really arty and intelligent as well as having a great sense of humour, not to mention that their English is far better than mine. Karin has a warmth about her, that is enchanting. She is bursting with joy and happiness as well as having a wonderful dark side and a filthy laugh. Phillip is great too. He is super intelligent as well as being a bit of a dude. I feel really comfortable with them (even after Clarkey asked me if they were swingers. Bad Clarkey!!. They’re not, just so you know).

I’m really looking forward to the weekend.

John Denver

Last night I met up with Karin and Phillip. They have asked me to go the back waters with them. At first I was worried that they’d offered just because they felt sorry for me, but they assured me that this was not the case and, that they would like the pleasure of my company for a couple of days. Karin then said that she felt it only fair to tell me that she is a clean freak and Phillip likes to play the ukulele. Both of those things I can totally live with (although it does depend how accomplished the ukulele playing is, I suppose). At that stage I should’ve probably told them my failings but I think it’s funnier for them to find out as the weekend unfolds. It all very much depends on the level of booze there is on board the boat.

We had dinner with a Swedish lady called Tina. Tina is 47 and as fit as a butcher’s dog. She must go to the gym every day for hours on end (I on the other hand, can’t even remember what the inside of a gym looks like). She has a body to die for and money has been well spent on her perfect rack. Annoyingly she is also super nice. There’s always a part of me that hopes, if someone is that hot then there should to be a defect somewhere else, to level it out. Take Taylor for example. Fit as fuck, but probably the dullest man on the planet (Jokes. Love you paedo).

After dinner we headed back to a party at the local restaurant. We were told that a famous Kerala singer was going to be performing. When we got there it was in full steam. There were about 7 Indian men crowded around the main man. It was like Beatle (or more John Denva) Mania. It was very cutting edge. The back catalogue of John Denver tunes was pumped out into the early hours. Who doesn’t love a bit of John Denver though? Unfortunately he didn’t sing Grandma’s feather bed which is a tragedy as it is one of my favourite songs of all time (Honestly. It’s sad but true).

Karin and Phil’s place was right next to the restaurant and the music was still really loud by the time they went to bed. Karin wasn’t bothered though and said it would be in ideal opportunity to have really loud sex. I love people who always look on the bright side of life. Before Karin went to bed, she had a massive barny with an American bloke who was being a pompous misguided prick. She let him have both barrels. It was spectacular to watch and for once I wasn’t involved. Win, win.

Mel was out this evening. He is the guy from New York who wants to see the poverty! He’s actually a whole heap cooler than I'd first given him credit for. We have big, deep, meaningful conversations about all sorts of shit. We disagree on most things but I love a bit of debate (shocked again, eh). After a couple of beers I do though have a tendency to deviate too much (I’m very easily distracted). I end up losing all hope of ever getting back to my original point, which is shit if you’re comprehensively trying to win an argument.

I was telling Mel that I’m trying to write a book. He asked what it was about. I said it was a modern day comedy romance i.e. including internet dating and social networking. He said I should call it You’ve got no mail. I’m still laughing now. If I ever write this book I am so nicking that title. Cheers Mel.

Wayne Sleep

Yesterday was a complete wash out. I like a bit of rain but this is relentless. It rained from the minute I woke up to the moment I went to sleep. That last bit might not be strictly true as I was pretty pissed when I went to bed so it may have stopped, but all the time I was conscious it rained.

I went to have a coffee (which was very quickly followed by gallons of Kingfisher) at the local café. Uli was there with one of the Russians. There are two Russian blokes who I have seen about but yesterday was the first time I’ve spoken to them. Actually they don’t speak English and my Russian is a bit rusty so it was mainly just a lot of smiling and misunderstanding each other.

They are two brothers from Moscow who are quite possibly the biggest blokes I have ever met. They make Dolph Lundgren look like Warwick Davies. They’ve got to be at least 6 foot 5. They've hands the size of shovels and size 14 shoes (just saying). They have really sunken cheeks, so they look a bit like Skeletor from He-Man (now that was some good shit). They're constantly pissed (they drink whiskey from the minute they’re awake) and are always massively inappropriate. They really don’t give a fuck. It’s a refreshing change. I can’t understand a word they say but they make me laugh. They are as funny as fuck. Uli does not approve. Apparently his love of Russians is on par with his love of Germans.

Because of the weather it seemed that everyone in town had the same idea so within no time the table was packed. It was like a drunken Benetton convention. There were 2 Russians, 3 Dutch, 3 English, a German, an Austrian and an Indian (sounds like some dodgy Bernand Manning joke). The Austrian bloke was amazing. He was the absolute spitting image, in body and soul, of Wayne Sleep. He was even wearing a bandana. Are you having that? He’s a dance teacher too. It just gets better and better.

I ended up going for dinner with the Dutch couple and Wayne Sleep. We had so much fun. The Dutch couple are adorable and Wayne Sleep was a total legend. It oddly made me miss home even more though. I know I shouldn’t wish my life away but I am very excited about coming home. I’ve even managed to set up a date for my return with Mr Amazing. Good work from 2000 miles away, eh. I just need to try not to fuck things up between now and home time. What are the chances? Oi, have some faith! 

R.I.P John

It’s a very sad day. John died! It looks like he died because he ran into a puddle of Head and Shoulders shampoo that I’d spilt on the floor (does that mean I accidently killed him?). It appears it’s good for a flaky scalp but fatal to geckos (it doesn’t mention this on the packaging). It looked like he was just resting but on closer inspection it became apparent that he was proper dead. The weird thing was that his little suckers still worked so I had to really pull him off the floor. It felt like one of those squiggy toys that you used to throw at windows and they would crawl down them (these are the sort of things you do when you don’t have a bike). I’ve not seen Dave for ages either. It has rained for about 30 hours solidl, so the dogs have fucked off too. Turn coats!! Trying to build relationships in India is proving very difficult.

Aside from animal news I haven’t really been doing a lot else. I’ve been trying to avoid Uli as much as possible. This isn’t an easy task. This place is so small that you’ve only got to walk out of your hut and he’s there. He has taken to knocking for me at least a couple of times a day. I generally pretend to be asleep. He keeps asking me to charge his mp3 player. For someone who loves music as much as tone deaf Uli, I find it hard to believe that he doesn’t have his own charger. Paradise resorts are not meant to have annoying neighbours. Arrghh!!

There are 3 English girls who I have not met but I’ve had the delight in occasionally overhearing their conversations. I started listening as they were talking about eggs, and as you all know I’m partial to a bit of egg chat. One of them said, whilst stroking her stomach, ”I had scrambled eggs yesterday and it was so yummy in my tummy” They are proper “gap yar” kids. I could listen to them for hours. It’s like something out of a French and Saunders sketch.

The trouble with the majority of travellers I’ve met is that they are mainly pretentious pricks. Everyone is trying to find themselves and they all bang on about being free spirits. They sit about playing top trumps of the most dangerous / remote places they’ve ever been. They see themselves as Bear Grylls when in reality if you were to take away Daddy’s credit card, they wouldn’t last the night. Sweet but utterly clueless.  I met a bloke yesterday from New York. He was nice enough but his primary reason for coming to India was to see poverty. He didn’t say he wanted to do anything to change the situation, just that he wanted to see it? He was saying all this from a luxury resort in Varkala, South India. Right on, man! .

Uli

Uli said that we should go for a walk so that he could show me the views along the cliff.  The views were breathtaking. It would have been beautifully romantic if I wasn’t with Uli. He is a sweet man and will make some girl very happy, but it aint gonna be me. I get the feeling that he is looking to find a replacement girlfriend. He split up with his girlfriend a little while before he came here. He met her in India. I think he thinks that India is where you pick up chicks. Hasn’t he heard of internet dating?

My fears that Uli may be wanting more than just a stroll along the cliff came to fruition over dinner when he abruptly asked me how I saw him romantically. There was no build up. This was not a topic of conversation. It completely floored me. I have no idea how you explain to someone that you don’t find them attractive, in a way that doesn’t sound patronising or condescending. It was a moment that I want to erase from my memory forever. I went on for far too long about how it wasn’t him and that my heart belongs to another blah blah blah. It was awful. He didn’t seem overly crushed. I think I was more mortified.

If it were me I would want the world to swallow me up but the news that I don’t find him attractive has done nothing to dampen Uli’s spirits. He seems to feel no shame at all in offering me massages, coming over to my hut with random bits of shit that he thinks I might want (a size 10 pair of flip flops. Yeah, cause they’ll come in handy). He is beginning to get on my tits now. I ditched him yesterday and went to the beach. It was blissful. I even got to wear a bikini, and in true British style, I am burnt to buggery. My tan just keeps on getting better.

Dave and John

As well as sharing my little hut with 2 dogs I seem to be sharing the bathroom with 2 geckos. One has his tail missing, so walks as if he’s pissed. Poor little lamb. It takes him a lot longer to run away from me, when I open the bathroom door (yes, it even has a door to the toilet). I’m assuming it’s male. My knowledge in the field of how to sex a gecko needs some work. I’ve named them Dave and John so if they are girls they’re not going to like that very much.

Seeing as I’m only paying £3 per night for my little hut I thought I would splash out on another pair of sexy trousers. All my trousers are falling apart. You’ll be glad to hear that I’m still in possession of the orange elephant ones. I went into the local shop to purchase said trousers. The girl selling them was a beautiful young girl called Sonia. She was born to sell. If there’s one thing I hate more than small talk, it’s haggling. I find the whole experience painful. Sonia, though, was loving it. At times I felt like I was in a pantomime. It was awful. After wasting five minutes of my life that I am never getting back, I am now the proud owner of some green Ali Baba pants (paid £3. I told you she was good). I’m like the Alexia Chung of India, me.

I have no mirror in my hut which on many levels is a really good thing. Sometimes you really don’t need reminding about what you’ve become. I’ve never felt less sexy in my life. If you could see my wardrobe you’d realise how vanity is now a thing of the past. I would never wear any of this clobber at home. I look like one of the animal rights activists who protest outside Coleman Street.   The minute I get back, I am hauling on skinny jeans (I may have to wedge myself into them) and putting on high heels. This is all after I have spent an entire day in the bath.

Donning my new pants I met up with Uli to go into town. Uli said I looked nice. He didn’t even appear to mean it in an ironic way. Maybe this is a good look in Germany? They love David Hasslehoff, for fuck sake. Uli is sweet but he seems quite negative. He doesn’t really seem to like anyone very much and has a complete disregard for Germany. You’d think he was English the way he slates Germany. The only people who he does seem to be very fond of are the beautiful young Indian girls who work in the shops. Funny that. He’s young enough to get away with it at the moment. Another 10 years and he’s just a dirty old man.

My little thatched hut

I got the train at a very agreeable 10.30 am and instead of paying 710r (a robbing travel agent had said the ticket would cost that much) I paid 80r at the station. Boom! It was the most civilised train station I’ve even been to in India. The whole experience was completely pain free. I would have been happy just kicking about in the station for a couple of days but I had a ticket to Varkala and was super excited to get to the beach.

I was even more excited when I found a place to stay. It’s true, it does sometimes look like a little timber prison, but I feel really happy here. I am now the proud, temporary, owner of a little, wicker hut. I have a cute little porch, with 2 two lounge chairs. (I've even managed to bribe two dogs to come and sit with me. All it took was a cheese sandwich). I have a big double bed and a soft pillow. If you ignore the damp and the slight smell it’s quite homely. There’s no hot water but I've managed to sweet talk the old boy who works here, into getting me a bucket of hot water each day. It’s an exciting sight seeing him come back with a full bucket of water. I am very easily pleased these days.

From my little window (the ones without bars) I can see the sea. Not only can I see the sea, I can hear it too. I could listen to that sound for hours (which is fortunate seeing as that’s all I’m going to be doing for a week or so). It makes me feel peaceful, which at times has seemed like an impossible task. I think I’ll stay here for a while, before going back into the craziness of real life.

I unpacked my stuff then went for dinner. At the restaurant I met a German bloke called Uli (quality name). He asked if he could join me. Seeing as my options are fairly limited I was happy for the company. It’s probably fair to say that Uli has even less direction in life than me (if that’s actually possible). He has jacked in his job just to sit about Varkala all day. Don’t get me wrong the place is like paradise but it’s not real life. If I were to stay here for more than 2 weeks I would go insane. It’s amazing to be lucky enough to see a place like this but life isn’t about places it’s about people and without your mates and your family then there’s not a huge amount of point in anything.

It was nice to have someone to talk to. We talked about all sorts of shit. He is a cool enough guy. I really like people who are passionate about something. He is completely passionate about his music. The problem is his music is properly pony. It felt like the musical equivalent of someone scraping their nails down a blackboard. Old Uli loves it though. At some stage in the evening he made the boldest claim of any person I have ever met. He said that he would happily trade all the other music in the world for this one song. After making a claim like that, the track that follows needs to be pretty fucking spectacular. This sounded like that something from the Swedish band, Europe (you remember, the final countdown. if you’re under the age of 30, google it) It felt like my ears would actually start bleeding at any minute. Christ, it was a long night.

Plate Please.

I went back to the hotel room and ordered egg on toast. It was delivered about half an hour later, without a knife and fork. Now, I have just about mastered easting Indian food with my hands but eating egg on toast without a knife and fork is a whole new ball came. It wasn’t pretty. I watched some crap on TV, which is all I seem to do when I get a TV in my room. This time I watched Scorpion King 2. It was a pile of pants but the majority of the blokes in it had next to nothing on so I was loathed to change channel.

After an afternoon siesta (is this what it feels like to be retired?) I headed down to the ocean to watch the sunset. It would’ve been very romantic if only there was someone to share it with. Also, the flemming and spitting from the local fishermen seemed to dampen the romantic ambience somewhat. The fishermen were really sweet and entertained me for a while. Generally people try to take pictures of me wherever I go. The funny white girl, that smokes. I reckon I have made it to people’s holiday albums all over India. These blokes though were only interested in me taking their picture. The pictures didn’t come out that well which was probably good for them as it looked like we were shooting the cover of Gay Fishermen Weekly. Camptastic.

I watched the sunset and felt fairly content with life albeit a bit lonely. I headed Back to the hotel to make the most of the posh room and to have an early night. I fell asleep watching footy (god, I miss footy). I was woken up about 10.30pm. I thought something was wrong (it felt like it was in the middle of the night). I opened the door to find the waiter from earlier who had delivered my egg on toast. He had come to ask for the plate back. Are you shitting me? I’m not sure what the correct protocol is for collecting room service dishes but I’m pretty sure after 10pm you’re probably best just to leave it till the morning. I am destined never to get a good nights kip in this country.