Day 1- travel
I made my way to the airport in my Italian Uno Qlo duvet coat with my giant kitbag weighing down my shoulder. Ipswich had never seen such a sight. And I wondered if everyone on the tube was wondering where this exotic traveller was heading to.
Once I got to the terminal, I tried to find somewhere that wasn’t as busy as Mumbai. Oh the irony. I found a Hilton hotel about a mile down a passageway and had a relaxed burger before I met my compadres.
I first met Susie, who was unmistakably Irish. I let a few of my best jokes loose on her and we waited for the other trekkers. You can tell a trekker by the fact they’ve been forced to fly in their boots. So, we waited, but nobody else came. After ten minutes, three or four women came. Then another couple. Then, even more women. It felt like that series of Big Brother where all the contestants were women, until Ziggy (a guy) turned up. Was I part of some social experiment?
In the queue, I fanned my funny feathers even more. Soon, we boarded. The transfer at Mumbai was frantic. I saved the day by helping with the luggage. I had successfully lulled these women into a false sense of security. I wasn’t really that helpful all the time.
Day 2- true colours
We soon saw Susie’s true colours, as she bought everything in sight, in every currency. Shopaholic at large. We explored Kochi and the Chinese fishing nets. I’d been here before, but nobody seemed to recognised me. Fish were flapping their last breathe on the ground, dodging the mouths of stray cats.
The evening meal was a course of chips, then a course of coleslaw, then curry of course. After dinner, most went to the bar up the road on a beer hunt, whilst I went buying fabrics with Angela. I only bought Bombay mix though.