Happy Holi!

The last 10 days in india were a real holiday. Spent the first week on the beautiful Palolem beach. We lived in a beach hut equipped with a hammock. Our days were spent basking in the glorious Goan sun, playing beach cricket, swimming and all around relaxing. Eating at the many beach side cafe’s and bars, and just getting chatty with other tourists. Our nights were spent getting progressively souseder. Shivan rode a scooter down one day, and we went for a swim and ate some fine food. The guys who worked at our huts were facinated by the same trick that they would beg for me to do with them every day. One night Ash and I thought it would be a great idea to get a big shark and eat it, it was a hell of a lot of food between us, and I ate as much as I ever had. We, but mostly I, managed to finish of this 2 foot long shark, and my stomach still isn’t the same, now 2 weeks later. After a week on Palolem, with our nice and shiny tans, we headed to Anjuna, further north. There we stayed in this massive hotel room, and did a hell of a lot of smoking. The day we got there we visited the markets, Ash bought this cool ring, and I a gay hat. Afterwards we hit this cafe where the waiter was actually rolling a spliff for the customers… (what the fuck?). So ofcourse I asked for some, and the next thing I’d bought 10g of hash from a shop. Sweet. Spent the next day or two just smokin, drinking and hanging out, then off to the station back to Bombay. The train ride was pretty uneventful, and once back, we met up with Leo for a drink or two at Santa Cruz. The next day, and my last in India was the Hindu festival Holi. Basically it’s a day where everyone drinks bhang and throws coloured powder and water bombs at everyone else. It was a blast, I obviously went out and got a face full of yellow powder. We met up with Leo, and the three of us drank 3 bottles of wine between us. Feeling soused we went back to the room where I washed off the powder, threw my towel out the window, and Leo burned our guidebook. Then I couldn’t find my ticket. No worries I thought, I’ve got a photocopy. So the three of us packed into a rickshaw and we were on our way. Said goodbye to those guys and proceded to check in. They wont let me travel without the original, despite my travel agent telling me that it’s all on a computer system. Holy Fuck. After a stressful half an hour trying to work out what I could do it hit me where I left my ticket, In a secret compartment in my bag. I tore through it and eccstatic found the ticket, checked in and ran for the plane. I was the last to board and managed to delay it by 5 minutes. I am a wanker / sickcunt.

Back home and back to the real world.

Photos to come.

~ by shayolden on March 11, 2007.