Heathrow to Kerala

The journey started off well, the entertainment system in seat number 18D on Air India flight 130 wasn't working, even after their attempts of rebooting it. Allison sat happily beside me as hers was working fine. She got through three films whilst I had to revert back to that old age medium of reading a book which as it happened worked out well combined with plenty of sleep. I suppose I also got to hear the crazy Indian man shouting out strange indistinguishable things throughout the flight. If I'd had my headphones in I would have missed all that.
We flew to Mumbai on a Dreamliner 787 which encouraged ideas of spaciousness and regality but alas it was run down and in dire need of attention. The 8 hours to Mumbai at least went by fast, the connection to Cochin was swift and we finally got through customs without too much bother.
"Where's our bags" enquires Allison, "maybe its on the other conveyor belt" I respond "it says our flight number above this carousel" Allison states. My heart does a merry dance as we both start to walk round and round trying to locate our luggage. It can't be found. There are three others who are also trying to find their bags. We all go to the baggage desk, we wait for our turn to fill out the missing luggage forms. I continue to look round expecting the bags to suddenly appear from somewhere 'piff paff pooff' but no such luck happens.
We finally leave the terminal minus our hold luggage which was painstakingly thought through and packed not once but a number of times and head out to the bus. The bus journey was somewhat relaxing at first. The queen track 'under pressure' was soon dispatched and in its place loud Hindi music was played. The more congested the roads got the more erratic the driving got. We narrowly missed a number of pedestrians by the skin of their noses, overtaking manoeuvres that would seem crazy to you or I. I had an imaginary foot brake which I was constantly applying pressure to. But in spite of all that not one angry gesture was seen or heard.
We arrive at Fort Kochi an hour and 45 minutes later hot, sweaty and I'm in need of a fresh pair of clean pants and Allison needs a pair of flip flops as her feet are starting to swell because of the heat.
We find the place where we will be staying Daffodil Homestay.

We relax and get our heads down for a little while. After waking up Allison is able to contact Air India and inform us they have located the bags. We head out and have a stroll around Fort Kochi.

The Chinese fishing nets, there are loads along the shore line. They catch the fish and sell them locally. You can then purchase the fish and have a local restaurant cook it for you.

Locals haggling over 'the price of fish'

Squid anyone?







   

Departure

Day of reckoning

My sphincter is having a workout, the day of reckoning is here. Allison is feeling the same way. What the fuck are we doing? I'm leaving my comfortable bed and all our creature comforts and heading into the unknown. Excitement and trepidation all mixed up in a blender and spat out in our nervous system.
Try those breathing exercises that the Indian monk Keshava gave you to calm your nerves, I'm thinking to myself. It doesn't do the job.
"I've got my sweeteners, I've got my vitamin C", I hear Allison say behind me. I say to myself, I have my passport, I have my money, men and women obviously have different priorities.
10 minutes and we are out of here.
Adios Amigos.

Time flies when your having fun! + 3 days to go.

Disregard the having fun part as time doth fly whether your having fun or not. Time literally just flies! The last month has flown by. Now our journey of self discovery is almost upon us. We fly out to Kerala on Monday so we had to get down to the nitty gritty of packing our bags. I have the Caribee Fast track 85 litre whilst Allison chose the 75 litre version. A wheeled travelpack, it can recreate itself like a transformer and be worn as a backpack as well as being dragged along on its wheels.
I didn't realise how stress inducing packing a bag could be. Packing, unpacking, ridding ourselves of certain items, re-packing, then whittling down what we should take to nearly bare essentials and finally done! Aha but its not quite done because as I informed you earlier I had the 85 litre version and Allison had the 75 litre version. I (a man) have 10 more litres worth of space than Allison (a woman). This is when the nearly bare essentials in my bag becomes bare essentials. But this final reduction in my own volume of stuff in my own bag and the added volume to my bag from Allison's things has the desired effect and the stress of packing starts to evaporate.
Squashed down, then precise applied pressure to the seam as we pull the zip round to seal the bag shut. Bag number 1 "check", bag number 2 "check". Done!
Time for alcohol!