inevitably meant the hose leaked so no matter
how carefully you aimed the gun the water
would jet out in about ten different directions
meaning you left the toilet wetter and shittier
than when you entered. The next few days took
quite a few casualties, all carrying the same
pale, clammy complexion of a person whose
insides are in knots and whose ring piece feels
reminder of this hit home as we travelled
the Tsunami of 2004 and the damage was still
abundantly evident. The smiley faces of the
locals and the inquisitive and cheerful children
belied the experiences they must have been
through.
football with the kids from a nearby village.
As we walked back along the golden sands
and gazed out to the emerald sea the picture
postcard moment was rather ruined by a local
man who proceeded to squat and turf out a Mr
the tide wasn’t yet strong enough to drag it out
horror or admiration as he’d achieved a level
of solidity in his turd that we could only dream
about.
The overnight stops came as a welcome
respite. Due to the prominence of the rally
the local Round Table society of wealthy
businessmen often hosted the evening for us.
round of speeches followed by a performance
of local dance and traditions. The nature of
the festivities changed somewhat once we’d
consumed the contents of the free bar and
introduced our own local dance and traditions.
The President of the Round Table of Madurai
has now discovered the delights of stage