I think I’m falling for my pretend husband. He’s happy to travel wherever I like, he never picks fights, and his (supposed) existence saves me a lot of hassle. Oh, and I like the aesthetic effect of the rings on my hand. On the downside: he always seems to be lying down sick in the hotel room. I think he’s a bit weak. Either that or he’s traveling somewhere for business without me. Can’t he just accompany me to some of the sights? How about a romantic dinner every once in a while?
In Goa there are dogs everywhere. No one seems to pay any attention to them, and they roam in and out of restaurants without being hassled. There was a dog at dinner last night begging from the table next to mine. The people were ignoring him, but he doggedly persevered… but must have grown bored, as he started to fall asleep sitting up. He looked exactly like a student snoozing in class, trying to pretend he’s listening to the teacher, nodding his head every few seconds. He woke up only when a troupe of tiny kittens decided to attack him and chase him out of the restaurant.
You can keep your crack cocaine, your crystal meth, your uppers, your downers, your happy pills: my drug of choice is Immodium! Two hours before getting on a train for 24 hours, my stomach decided it was unhappy. In case it isn’t obvious, let me tell you that a squat toilet on a moving train is a less than ideal place for diarrhea. Happily, the immodium lived up to its promises.