That’s Where I want to Goa

We’re not in Goa yet.  But after today it’s become quite imperative that we make it there.  For one, we’re running out of days.  For two, today was an astonishing mass of disappointments.  We started by arriving in the foothills of a mountainous Kerela nature reserve early, at 4am (thanks speeding, mental bus-driver).  We continued by heading to a fabled cave in the hills, that turned out to be a complete fable as it was basically an over-crowded crevice.  Following this we made a jaunt to a safari park, that took an hour and a half to organize (again, Indian bureaucracy is like a bad Fawlty Towers episode) and on upon which we succeeded in seeing some deer and a peacock.  There was more wildlife in the car park.

Never mind, we got a crew of eight (3 scots, 1 spanish, 1 english and 3 girls from jersey) on a house boat in the kerela backwaters.  We were promised a tranquil once-in-a-lifetime adventure down serene palm-fringed canals.  Instead we dressed up as pirates, packed some rum and took to the water with jolly aplomb.  It was a fantastic day, and despite the silliness, I must say the scenery was pretty special.  During the frivolities however, one of the jersey girls produced a henna tattoo kit.  I now sport a palm tree on the back of my calf that looks like a poo-volcano that shall remain there for up to three weeks.  Additionally, there is a watch painted on to my other wrist, numerous smudges that make no sense and a willy (thanks spinks) on my leg.  Sunbathing in Goa should be interesting…

And a final thank-you to Varkala.  It took me 12 days to escape and it could have been many more.  Onwards and upwards!

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