Exclusively Caroline

Phone Sex Voice

2010-04-14T19:19:00.003+01:00

We have a running joke at work that my interpreter has a "phone sex" voice. I've been nagging her to change the voicemail on my phone, but we still haven't come up with a script.

I asked a friend to pen something for me; here's the result:

Start off with

Hello..... (purrrrrrrrr)
This is Caroline's (pause) phone
(purrrrrr)
I'm deaf, but also extremely busy
And wouldn't you like to know what I'm busy with?
If you want to get hold of me... (purrrr)
Send me a text and maybe.... (pause)
I'll get back to you! (sigh)

Ummm. Maybe not.

Suggestions in the message box, please!

NEVER APOLOGISE. NEVER EXPLAIN.

2010-03-30T23:18:00.001+01:00

It's netball season again.

We won 12-4, but it was quite a dirty game. I was in a bit of an aggro mood, and the rain probably didn't help. I got scratched by the WD, and she drew blood, THEN she tripped me up (bitch) so the red mist descended. I went to catch the ball, saw her approaching from the corner of my eye, planted myself firmly - she came straight at me, then bounced right off on her arse into a puddle.

Revenge is a dish best served cold (and slightly wet).

City Living

2009-09-02T22:57:00.004+01:00

Little Fred has finally grown up and bought a flat, a very little flat, that's not in the country.

It's not little, actually. It's two-bed, mahoosive living room and two gardens. Titchy bathroom with tiling like someone has thrown up and a gorgeous kitchen. It would be a gross understatement to say that I'm terribly excited.

Crazy Greek Lady will be moving with me, so hopefully there'll be antics aplenty to entertain you. That is if I ever get a telephone line. £122.50 to connect me, they say! As if I'll have any money left over after buying a flat..!

Anyhoo, the move takes place next week and I'm having the big countdown via Facebook. And pissing off plenty of my friends in the process. HOW BORING is it to have status updates going: T minus 9 days, T minus 8 days, T minus 7 days.

/unlike
/defriend

Fish Apocalypse Scenerio

2009-07-29T22:58:00.002+01:00

Howard says:
I might write to Lydia and complain about her being in an existential angst dream I had last night.

Fred says:
I want a role in your dreams.

Howard says:
I don't know that I get to choose!

Fred says:
something cool.
maybe a superhero.

Howard says:
I'll try my best!

Fred says:
well make it up to appease me.

Howard says:
I shall do my best!
What powers would you want?

Fred says:
i don't know.
you have to dream them.

Howard says:
I hope your powers are totally silly.
I'd hate it if you had REALLY SCARY POWERS

Fred says:
silly powers are acceptable.
i don't want to be scary.
maybe the ability to turn fish into daisies?

Howard says:
Useful
in a fish apocalypse scenario

Fred says:
it could happen.

Daft Hands

2009-07-13T10:49:00.001+01:00

I wouldn't mind asking this lady to interpret my meetings.

Happy Monday!

Spot the Difference

2009-07-12T22:31:00.014+01:00

The Sistine Chapel

My friend's foot

/braces self for torrent of abuse

N.B. Idea coined by Ms Cathy Heffernan, esq.

Hello Goodbye

2009-07-12T22:15:00.005+01:00

Hmm. It's been nearly a year since I last posted. That's very bad. Very bad indeed. Do you forgive me?

It's been a busy year in the Exclusively Caroline household. We lost two flatmates and gained a crazy Greek lady. The Peckham Ladies took Reims by storm. I entered my fifth year with The Boy. Book Face, our online book club was established, and is dying a slow death. I'm one year older, another year closer to 30, and none the wiser for it. It's also been weddings and babies galore - although not for me!

What else?

Oh yeah. And I didn't win on the National again.

Gutted.

Please Keep Your Wet Bum Off The Seats

2008-09-26T01:27:00.000+01:00

I’m sure many of you have at some point in your life listened to that wonderful tune “Donald, where’s your Troosers,” and wondered at the meaning behind these discerning lyrics.

Not many people know this, but this wonderful refrain was actually composed with the esteemed Mister Donald Duck, Esquire, in mind.*

*This may be a lie.

Rumour has it Donald used to wear a very fetching kilt in a glorious pattern of duck-egg blue and yellow, the colour of his Scottish clan. He cut a dashing figure striding through town to pick up his daily bag of breadcrumbs from the bakers. The problem arose when Huey, Dewey and Louie, Donald’s mischievous nephews, decided to make off with his kilt one day and run it up the local flagpole.

Poor Donald was humiliated; his exquisite kilt sullied in such a way. Determined not to let three silly lads get the better of him, he managed to retrieve it, dignity intact. However, every time he wore it out all the ladies pointed and laughed. Even Daisy Duck, her of the smoothest, whitest feathers had been seen to titter when he strolled past. Donald swiftly went from local Lothario to laughing stock.

In despair, Donald called on Mickey and Pluto, his two closest friends. “Mickey,” he cried, “I don’t know what to do anymore. I can’t wear trousers; it’s too hard to find a pair that fit my considerable backside. That’s the thing about being a duck – with this tail I’m every tailor’s (haha) nightmare.”

Mickey took one look at Donald’s wretched face; he knew that this was no laughing matter. He exchanged a brief look with Pluto and with an almost imperceptible nod he whipped out his mobile phone and dialled up Gok Wan.

Naturally when the How to Look Good Naked Team heard of Donald’s sorry plight, they headed straight over. Taking Donald firmly by the hand, Gok lead him down a row of ducks. Fat ducks, thin ducks, ducks with considerable assets, ducks with bills, ducks without, ducks with Mohawks and tattoos. “Darling Donald,” said Gok, looking deep into his eyes, “You must realise you are one sexy duck with the most amazing booty. A butt like that should not be hidden beneath cheap polyester. Let your light shine! Cast off that kilt and show the world your beautiful bottom!”

Clearly Gok is never wrong. And from thereon Donald went forth naked as the day he was born. It must have worked some magic, as he’s now happily betrothed to Daisy.

And now in answer to the stupid question posed to me by ‘Im Up North… Why does Donald Duck wear a towel when he gets out of the shower, but walks around naked the rest of the time? Well, duh! Who wants to walk around with a wet bottom? If you went around visiting people for lunch and leaving wet patches on their designer sofas, you wouldn’t be too popular, would you? Or at least that’s what Donald tells me.

I heard it straight from the ducks bill. Honest.

And there were 101 of them...

2008-03-09T21:28:00.014Z

Due to ~~my mother~~ popular demand I have posted some pictures of myself as a dalmation.

Why was I a dalmation? It was The Boy's sisters 21st birthday. She was Cruella de Ville. We were her dalmations. I don't make these things up.

You'd have to pay good money to make me do this again...

Dalmations in Swansea

2008-03-06T23:16:00.008Z

So, JGJones... where's that post you promised me about carrots?

It's been a mad couple of months. I spent all of Christmas laid-up on my proverbial deathbed, hurried back to London and decked myself out in groovy 70's clothes for New Year; then with no further ado I started working at Auntie Beeb with the worlds biggest hangover.

I've already had two programmes out with another one on the way and I still have four months left on my contract. Where I'll go from that, God only knows.

What else? Oh I've dressed as a dalmation. I've seen Colin Jackson, Nick Knowles and Jeremy Clarkson. I went to Swansea for St David's Day and pitied the poor blighter who had to clean the red dye out of this fountain.

I also have a new flatmate. A crazy Greek woman who cooks the best dinners, plays an excellent game of badminton, never stops laughing, and brings her friends over to climb my corridor walls. Seriously.

I adore her!

I'm off on a course next week and I have to come up with an interesting and amusing fact about myself. I've been stumped for weeks... then it came to me.

When I was young, I used to have a pet stick insect called Sticky.

What do you think, guys?

In Case of Emergency, Press Copy & Paste

2008-02-13T14:09:00.001Z

I try my best, but in this instance my best isn't good enough. I apologise profusely for my shortcomings.

Blog update coming soon.... Promise!

Come dressed as your Screen Icon.

2007-12-05T23:25:00.001Z

Well I didn't have a cat and a cigarette holder...

Dead Fred

2007-11-26T18:02:00.000Z

I had a rather shocking/amusing email today from my friend Billy. Billy and I have a mutual friend called Luke who is at university studying meeja. The email was regarding a music video that Luke had just made as part of his university work.

Just to clear things up - I'll be working with Billy from January onwards, he will be my producer. Terry will be my boss.

Our email exchanges follows below:

Billy:
Erm... basically, this pop video was a sort of sped up 'day in the life' of a girl who dies of a drug overdose at the end.

I nearly choked when the words

"Caroline O'Neill 1980-2006" came up at the end. I texted him to ask who this particular 'Caroline O'Neill was, he said: "I know! The reason for that was that I had just spoken to Caroline about an hour before and her name is the first that came into my head when I had to think of a girl's name to make it 'authentic'!"

Caroline:
*spits out tea over keyboard*

So I officially died last year? :) Might want to let Terry know that he's employing a dead girl!!!

Billy:
There will deffo be some health and safety issues involved. I'm going to call HR and see if they have any guidelines on employing the dead/undead.

Caroline:
It just means when I write up a programme proposal for you it'll be full of braaaaaaaaaaaaaains.

Billy:
I can tell working with you's gonna be a killer, thriller...

I'm just glad 2006 is over, otherwise I'd be more than slightly paranoid!

An Open Letter to Mr Ronnie Miller

2007-11-16T16:50:00.001Z

Namaste Ronnie,

I have, on many occasions, promised to mention you on my blog. To date, this has not happened. Please accept my sincerest apologies.

So here you go. Your very own post. Especially for you.

You're going to India. That's great! However, I believe you're only going for two weeks, so you'll probably hate it. Sorry to be so candid, but it's true. India is the kind of place that grows on you, it gradually seeps into your blood and leaves you wanting more. Most people who go there and stay for only a short time never return to India. So this I say to you, give it a chance. Go there with an open mind.

I know you're going for business purposes and you'll probably have a guide of some sort and sleep in a nice air conditioned hotel. This isn't the real India. If you get the chance, go and explore! The India you will see on the streets is more exotic, more colourful, more vibrant. India isn't always sweet smelling. The streets are pretty much a public latrine, so watch where to step. The people are harmless and the children will probably beg. Ignore them if you can. If you really have to give them something, don't give them sweets, give them pens or pencils.

Talk to people. Guidebooks harp on about how you shouldn't talk to the natives. I disagree. We met some amazing people on our travels - both locals and other travellers. These people will be able to tell you the best places to go and eat and what to see and do.

You will get sick at some point. Bring rehydrating salts. I cannot possibly stress this enough. The rich gravies of India do not sit easily in delicate British stomaches. Before you start protesting, yes, yes, I know you're a Geordie. Yes, I know you can down 20 pints a night and follow it up with a vindaloo or three. British curries are very different from Indian curries. You will definitely get at least one case of Delhi Belly. I'll put money on that.

When Lydia and I went to India we went vegetarian for a while. Pune is in the South and not that far from the sea, so you should be able to get some decent seafood there. I'd recommend you steer clear of red or white meat unless you think it can be trusted. There will be Western food available, but why would you want that when you can get it in England? For breakfast you can usually find toast and cereal, but if you get the chance, try dosa. This is a South Indian crepe usually served at breakfast. If you decide to shy away from meat, try paneer, which is cheese in gravy, or chana masala (chickpeas).

The Indian head waggle means several things. Yes. No. Maybe. Hello. Very confusing, but you might get the hang of it in the end. Or not.

Bring industrial strength insect repellent with DEET. It smells awful - but at least you won't get bitten! Your room will have air conditioning, so you won't need a mosquito net.

The beer to drink over there is Kingfisher. You won't find Cobra anywhere. Oh, and don't drink the tap water. Stick to bottled water. And don't accept ice in your drinks.

Be careful on the roads. The only rule on Indian roads is "watch out for the cows". An Indian driver would rather mow you down than a cow. You have been warned.

Lydia wrote up a post called Secrets of India, with some of her tips. Click on the link to have a look.

I have never been to Pune personally - so I can't advise you on where to go or what to see and do. For more information and tips on surviving the Great India Experience refer to the "India" label on my blog.

Enjoy! I look forward to hearing all your complaints upon your return.

Caroline x

Camera Shy

2007-11-16T16:36:00.000Z

I'm terribly camera-shy. Really. I am. I hate having my photo taken and I hate looking at photos of me. Unless they're by Howard. Or the exceptionally talented Gabe Leung.

This was taken in Dubai at a friends wedding a few weeks ago. Howard says this is my "listening face," whatever that may be!

Fingerspelling Nephews

2007-10-10T23:51:00.000+01:00

I'd like to take this moment to name-drop my two gorgeous nephews, Sam and Ben.

Not only are they stunningly good-looking, academically-gifted, impeccibly dressed with charming manners they also.... wait for this.... THEY SIGN!!!

I haven't seen them in something like 6 years. I'm officially the worlds worst aunt. Anyway, I went to my sisters birthday last weekend and was greeted by two mops of blonde hair merrily fingerspelling their names to me.

I nearly cried. You rock, guys.

Life 101

2007-10-10T23:27:00.000+01:00

Sometimes don't you wish that you could take a crash course in life? You know, the kind of course that tells you which fork to use, not to wear a cropped top in church and to let little old ladies off the bus before you start digging your elbows in...

The reason for this post? I've just been for sushi with Howard - we've been discussing the kind of people who could really do with a course in Life 101.

Let's start with an oldie, but a goodie. Take Jasmine Willis, a 17 year old with a fondness for caffeine. Now add seven double expressos. I don't know of anyone who could drink all this and then sleep easy (well apart from Ray Harrison Graham, but that's another story). According to Howard she's going to start a campaign to raise awareness of the dangers of caffeine. Jasmine, I don't think many people pop out for a salad and seven expressos at lunchtime. I suggest you look up moderation in the dictionary. You'll find it beween self-restraint and asceticism.

And we'll swiftly move on to the latest piece of artwork to grace the South Banks finest gallery. Yes, I'm talking about the Tate's crack. Since it's opening, three people have fallen in. I'm not kidding. Three people have fallen in this huge trench running through the Tate's Turbine Hall. The story goes that they thought it was painted on the floor. So they stepped on it. Only to find that they are not quite as capable of defying gravity as Elphaba.

As a wise man once said, look before you leap.

Get ye to the classroom and no running in the hallways!

Combatting Depression

2007-10-09T11:54:00.000+01:00

I am very, very, very, very, very unhappy.

Oh yes.

So bring on the ice-cream.

Red Wine & Cheeseburgers in Casulty

2007-08-22T15:54:00.000+01:00

There's nothing like a bit of flirtation to boost the old confidence. But there is a time and place for everything.

"What's your name?"
"Caroline."
"Karen?"
"Close enough."
"So, do you come here often?"

Location? The JobCentre.

What else? Oh yes...

I ended up escorting a friend to A&E last week. We were around Shaftesbury Avenue when he started feeling unwell. We jumped into a taxi, shouted out in our best action hero voice, "Cabbie, take us to the nearest hospital and step on it!" We were still in the same place ten minutes later; stuck in wall-to-wall traffic.

This would never have happened in Hollywood.

Overheard Words

2007-08-14T14:28:00.000+01:00

"Wooooooooooow. Is that a greyhound, bruv?"

Shuttlecocks of the world, beware!

2007-08-13T23:06:00.000+01:00

If you ever happen against a menacing looking brunette in a subway around South London, swinging a badminton racket with a dangerous twinkle in her eye. That'd be me.

Good Lord, I'm hard.

Oil Slick and Oleander

2007-08-13T18:04:00.001+01:00

I'm grumpy. I'm coughing up my pink little lungs at this very second. But at least I have good blood pressure, so it's not all bad.

It's been a busy past few weeks. Finished my current contract at betty. Went to Madrid for a romantic weekend. Looked after two greyhounds called Oil Slick and Oleander (names changed to protect identity). Went to the Carnaval del Pueblo. Visited a friend and her baby, Chicken Wing (name changed to protect identity), in Leeds. Watched The Simpsons Movie (which was very good, incidently). I have not stopped.

It's so nice to embrace unemployment. You know, sleeping till 1pm. Staying up late to watch crap movies. My only issue is that I'm finding it hard to let my personal hygience slip.

In other news, the four-part series I worked on at betty will be airing this month! Outrageous Wasters, BBC 3, Tuesday 21st August at 9pm.

Arrrr!

2007-07-31T14:40:00.000+01:00

Apparently my pirate name is:

Iron Charity Flint

"A pirate's life isn't easy; it takes a tough person. That's okay with you, though, since you a tough person. Like the rock flint, you're hard and sharp. But, also like flint, you're easily chipped, and sparky. Arr!"

So, me bilge rats, walk the plank over to this here page to find out what yours is!

Addicted to.... Sushi

2007-06-21T14:41:00.000+01:00

It would seem I have been rumbled...

And I am now a fish.

Lovehandles

2007-06-07T21:40:00.000+01:00

I have just been called fat!!!!

OK, the exact exchange was with the Indian guy in my local shop. He made a sign for fat, then said that I had lovely curves.

All the same...

Fat!!!!!

Right, the diet starts now.

Well, maybe tomorrow... After I've finished eating my birthday cake...

Netballs and Broomsticks

2007-06-07T14:08:00.001+01:00

Yesterday I went to netball training in Bermondsey.

It was great! It was just like that football match in Bedknobs and Broomsticks!

You know the one - where they all run from one end of the pitch to the other. Hilarious.

I think we've still got a long way to go.... :)

Pepperoni and Green Peppers

2007-05-24T21:29:00.000+01:00

Me: "I prefer my pizza without a stuffed crust these days."

Sis: "I think we've come to the end of our relationship."

The Random Texter Once Again

2007-05-08T23:19:00.000+01:00

And no month would be complete without a message from The Random Texter.

Some say that he treads so light he leaves no carbon footprint.

Others say that he cured the potato famine in Ireland.

All that I know is he is The Random Texter.

"As you know I have been playing a lot of golf and was getting quite good. Anyhow, my game started to go downhill so I decided to book some lessons with the golf pro. I had several lessons then went to the clubhouse; the pro had left me a message saying that the only way to improve my game was to cut 6 inches off the end of my clubs. Puzzled, I rang him and he said it wouldn't help me, but at least they'd fit in the dustbin."

His golf might suck, but it's a reassurance that his texting skills are still intact.

Slim Pickings and the Round Table

2007-05-08T22:52:00.000+01:00

Why haven't I been updating my blog?

I've been washing my hair.

For a month.

The sudden absence wasn't because I won the Grand National. My horse was actually first, until being pipped to the post just yards from the finish. Probably a good thing really. I was yelling that I would name my first born after him if he came in first.

The horses name?

Slim Pickings.

It could have been quite unfortunate.

I'm a bit worried at the moment. There's been a sudden baby boom. I know about 56,759,506 people who are pregnant. My mates, Jason and Mary-Jayne have just had a sprog called Lancelot. I was quite disappointed they didn't name him Slim Pickings.

What else? Oh yes, the real reason for my absence is due to the fact I've become religious about badminton and netball. But all this healthy stuff scares me so I've been counteracting it with nights in the pub. It's a problem really, I'm FAR too busy being a sexy, empowered media luvvie with a newfound passion for sport to boot. I really don't have time to blog.

And I probably wouldn't have but my Dutch friend gave me a right telling off today on MSN. Apparently he checks my blog everyday and then goes to the toilet to cry for an hour because it hasn't been updated. Hello Peter!

Oh, top tip from my sister. Don't ever sit on your hair straighteners. Particularly if you've just been using them. I've been assured that it is very painful.

Oh - I have to do that meme from Howard. Keep watching. I'll get round to it. Eventually.

I Speak Horse

2007-04-14T16:04:00.000+01:00

"That was Hedgehunter just now."
"How do you know?"
"I speak horse."

Watch out for mine, he'll be the three legged donkey with a bottle of vodka, smoking a Superking.

Update coming shortly. I know I've been lax. But it's a beautiful sunshiney day, the Grand National is on and my BBQ calls....

Enjoy the sunshine!

Now I've heard everything...

2007-03-29T15:03:00.001+01:00

Ghost Chickens In the Sky

A chicken farmer went out

One dark and dreary day

He rested by the coop

As he went along his way

When all at once a rotten egg

Hit him in the eye

It was the sight he dreaded...

Ghost chickens in the sky

Bok, bok, bok, bok

Ghost chickens in the sky....

The farmer had raised chickens

Since he was twenty-four

Been workin' for the Colonel

Some thirty years or more

Raisin' all those chickens

Then sending them to fry

Now they want revenge...

Those chickens in the sky.

Bok, bok, bok, bok

Ghost chickens in the sky....

Their beaks were black and shiny,

Their eyes a-burnin' red

They had no meat or feathers,

These chickens were all dead

They picked the farmer up

And he died by the claw

They cooked him extra crispy...

And ate him with coleslaw

Bok, bok, bok, bok

Ghost chickens in the sky....

The Random Texter Returns!

2007-03-26T23:14:00.000+01:00

The Random Texter has become a lot more discerning since I started putting his messages up on my blog.

Some say that he is Nostradamus reborn and that his words of wisdom will bring about the End of Days.

Others say his stream of consciousness is so fast it breaks the sound barrier.

All I know is he is the Random Texter.

(I could so write for Top Gear)

"Me and Mum have gone back to knitting a suspension bridge, house is getting full, going to link the mainland to the Isle of Wight. But why anyone would want to go there is beyond me, maybe missionaries. The Random Texter x"

Drop and Roll

2007-03-26T22:55:00.000+01:00

Theatre at the weekend. Post-drinks in Wyvils Howard and I were telling his friend, Jamie, about the performance. He summed it up nicely. "Sounds like The Colour Purple(1) meets Michael Jackson.'

I would sum it up as memorable.

In short. It was a one-woman performance incorporating dancing, storytelling, pictures, film, sea shanties, poetry and more,... much more. All in the space of 80 minutes with no interval. There were so many strands throughout it was quite difficult to focus. But it was memorable.

Highlight was probably watching Jacqui and Howard luvvy each other up afterwards.

"You're brilliant."
"No, no, no, you're brilliant."
"No, no, no, you're so utterly fabulous that I'm going to paint you in gold and hang you from my living room wall."

Then onwards and upwards to Duckie where we caught yet another performance - a drag artist from New York (I think) dressed not unlike Miss Havisham in Great Expectations. But with glitter. And an electronic ukulele.

That was my weekend. Just how much do you want to be me?

On another completely separate note. Is it just me, or when you see an electronic roller door going down do you get the urge to drop and roll?

(1) The book, not the film.

Something For The Weekend

2007-03-23T17:43:00.001Z

Great Pockets

Pure. Utter. Genius.

Chickening Out

2007-03-22T17:11:00.001Z

"Did you learn to kill a chicken?"

"It was AWFUL, I haven't eaten meat since then. I got really squeamish."

"Let's hope you don't ever get stranded on a desert island full of chickens."

A Guilt-Ladden Blog Post

2007-03-22T14:42:00.001Z

I don't have time to blog. I really don't. And then come lunchtime I have this niggling sense of guilt at the back of my head. A little voice whispering in my ear, "You haven't blogged since last Tuesday!"

Sigh.

I think my last post was about my mother. Since then I have received an email from Holland. Yes, I have readers as far overseas as Holland. One to be precise. The giddy heights! Anyway. In Holland, Mothers Day is not until April. Or May. We're actually not all that sure about the month, let alone the date. He is now holding me personally responsible for wasting the English equivalent of £1.50.

Sigh.

So from this day forth - any posts relating to British holidays will now carry the disclaimer (N.B. Not for people outside of the United Kingdom). The flap of a butterfly's wing in Brazil and all that...

What else?

On Monday I went to Wales on a recce with the rest of my team. We had two people carriers. We were motoring down the M4 happily discussing the merits of organic balsamic vinegar in comparision to the rather yummy one with added pesticides. All of a sudden someone espied that we were in need of petrol. We pulled into the petrol forecount, jumped out and started pumping fuel into our very nice people carrier. Forty pounds of unleaded later we suddenly realised that our people carrier actually took diesel.

Cue one fervent phone call to our production co-ordinator in the other car, "Now I want you to stay calm whilst I tell you this, the Series Producer is in your car and I don't want them knowing anything about this until we have found a solution. We do not need anyone to panic. So remain calm and quiet. We put unleaded in the diesel car. "

The long and short of it? I ended up in Swindon waiting for the car to be drained with Mel, our Production Manager whilst everyone else swanned off to Wales. If you're ever stuck there, the Sainsburys Cafe is very nice.

It wasn't me who put the unleaded in the diesel car, by the way.

Off to the theatre this weekend.

That's it from me.

And you know what? I really didn't have time.

Mummy's Girl

2007-03-13T22:36:00.000Z

So.

Mothers Day is coming up. Yes, that time of year when you remember that you have a Mum. That awe-inspiring woman who also answers to the name of Cleaning Up Fairy, Cooking Goddess, She Who Knows How To Work The Washing Machine, The Peacemaker and Patron Saint of All That is Good and True in the ~~Household~~ World.

And if you're a teenager, she also answers to "Evil Bitch Who Won't Let Me Go Out To The Pub Even Though I'm Underage But Obviously EVERYONE Else Is Going. It's So Not Fair, You've Ruined My Life." Although you'll grow out of that. And you'll have more brain cells as a result.

I really must brush up on my handwriting for this big event. The last greeting card I sent went via Outer Mongolia.

100th post! Yay!

Treading the Boards

2007-03-09T00:56:00.000Z

So as sure as the sun will shine

I'm gonna get my share now of what's mine

And then the harder they come the harder they'll fall, one and all

Ooh the harder they come the harder they'll fall, one and all

-Jimmy Cliff-

I'm just back from the Theatre Royal in Stratford East. I went to see The Harder They Come with Howard.

And it was absolutely brilliant.

It was quite unlike any other performance I have ever seen. The cast ran riot in the audience at the beginning - my personal favourite being a lovely preacher man who gave some poor punter a lecture from the Bible and encouraged him to make a honest woman of his girlfriend!

The tunes were absolutely fantastic and translated beautifully by Jacqui Beckford.

The talented lead actor, Rolan Bell, who played Ivan was ~~hotter than a jalapeno pepper with a side order of tabasco~~ quite attractive (the boyfriend reads this blog) - something I didn't actually notice until after the interval as I was so distracted by Jacqui. What really shone through was the passion; the cast were really talented but it was obvious that they were tremendously enjoying themselves.

And you really can't go wrong with any play that has the Day O (Banana Boat) song in it.

This really should go to the West End. It was so much better than that Evita rubbish (the review for which is notably absent from this blog, not even worth writing about).

If you're London based, go and see this whilst you still can.

And whilst you're there - try the jerk chicken.

Hairy Armpits and Tony Blair

2007-03-07T14:03:00.001Z

Some of you may know I work in the media.

Some of you may not.

Now you do.

I'm currently working as a researcher for an indie - my role, making tea and painting nails aside, involves contributor finding. Cue mass emails to various individuals all sides of the globe.

Cue hate mail...

I received the email below the other day. I just want to thank the guy, whose name I will withhold, for making my day. I don't think I've ever laughed so hard in my life.

For the record. I've never voted for Tony Blair although I can just about deal with you calling me left-wing. BUT I DO SHAVE MY ARMPITS, THANK YOU VERY MUCH!!

Dear Caroline,

Thank you for your kind e-mail, I enjoyed reading it whilst reclining in my leather sofa smoking a rather large cigar.

Whilst I found the idea of contributing to your programme interesting, I quickly realised that the level of trust we as a club have in the left wing tree hugging media is so low I'd rather let Ian Huntley babysit my children than have anything to do with your production.

It is because of mis-representation and poor 'sound bite' sensationalist broadcasts such as yours that the owners of 4x4s are being publicly villified when drivers of carcanogen spewing wrecks with no tax and no insurance are left in relative obscurity despite contributing far more damage to the enviroment than any die hard car lover.

Perhaps you should consider shaving your arms pits, getting up off your comfy bean bag and getting ****ed you useless left wing tart

Regards

[name withheld]

An Idiot's Guide to Clubbing

2007-03-06T22:41:00.000Z

I strongly feel that if you have to buy this book you should not be allowed out of the house.

Ever.

The Random Texter Strikes Again

2007-03-06T16:39:00.001Z

"Before we went away I visited the doctors because everytime I bent down I kept seeing Pluto and if I got up too fast I would see Mickey Mouse. He said not to worry - I was just having Disney spells. Love ya. xxx"

Bacon Butties

2007-03-06T14:03:00.001Z

Next week my supervisor at Channel 4 is coming to meet my supervisor at Betty TV to "discuss my future."

I have The Fear.

Things have been going well here though - the people are lovely, the work is hard and I'm really enjoying myself. Unless I'm hungover, that is.

Last week I had the mother of all hangovers. The kind of hangover where you crave grease and would happily lick the six-month-old, never been washed frying pan of your local greasy spoon just to get your fix.

But no. Bacon sandwiches are bad for you. We have cereal at work... We have cereal at work... Keep walking... We have cereal at work.

We didn't have cereal at work.

I should have bought that bacon sandwich.

Words from the Heart

2007-03-05T10:15:00.001Z

Oh, the comfort, the inexpressible comfort of feeling safe with a person! Having neither to weight thoughts nor measure words, but pouring them all out just as they are, chaff and grain together. Certain that a faithful hand will take them and sift them, keep what is worth keeping, and with a breath of kindness, blow the rest away.

George Eliot

My mother sent me the above quote last week; I've seen it many times before but never really read much into it.

Sitting here, reading it, I realise just how many good friends I have to which it could be attributed.

You know who you are....

Plastic Fantastic

2007-03-02T10:50:00.001Z

Like me, are you stuck with literally THOUSANDS of plastic bags beneath your kitchen sink?

There is a solution.

More randomness to follow soon - I promise. Busybusybusybusybusy at work this week.

Pirates of Poole Harbour

2007-02-18T21:37:00.000Z

So. According to my local paper the esteemed Mister Depp is hunting for a house in the New Forest. Lymington, to be more precise.

Mister Depp, if you're reading this blog - I thought you were damn great in Pirates of the Caribbean 2, and I can't wait for the third installment. Can I also add that Poole is a lot better than Lymington. For one, it's the home of Sunseeker, Ryvita and Mathmos (lava lamps). For two, the best fish and chips in the world can be found in the Portsmouth Hoy, courtsey of Jo and Mark. For three, the Sturminster Marshall Football Team are always looking for new members and I'm sure Matty Saunders and Moose could teach you a thing or two. For four, if you and your family ever need someone to share Christmas Dinner with, the O'Neills would happily volunteer. Picture the scene, myself, my mother, my father, my sister, your fine self, Lily-Rose, John and Vanessa sitting around a table in the Thistle Inn. Cheap shiny party hats, an abundance of wine, crackers with crap jokes and overcooked roast potatoes.

I know you're probably overexcited by all these suggestions and will need a bit of time to calm down, after all it is a big decision to make. I look forward to hearing from you very soon and do feel free to pop by for a cup of sugar if you ever run out.

Oh and don't bother with Sandbanks, it's overrated in my opinion.

Best wishes,

Your Biggest Fan. Caroline xxx

P.S. Being such a great pirate I'm sure you'd also want to invest in a boat. If you ever need someone to swab your decks....

Wanted: One Ugly Dog

2007-02-16T01:39:00.000Z

My Mum and Dad have a house in Spain. Last year my mother became a netgeek overnight and can now be found lurking on various online forums dissing Spanish builders.

The other day she found the following online:

Ugly Dog Today

We’ve just rescued what must be the ugliest dog in Spain.

He was dripping wet and shivering cold and this made him look even uglier. His head was down and he looked like he’d just given up hope. We couldn’t leave him; we wrapped him in a blanket and brought him home.

After we’d dried and brushed him, and tried to tidy him up a bit, he still looked ugly, and he just wants to follow us around, like a little lost sheep.

We’re now looking for a permanent home for him. He’s about the size of a cat, with a barrel shaped body and skinny legs, his colour is a dirty shade of black, which means you can hide him in a dark corner when you have visitors.

Unfortunately he doesn’t yet understand ‘doggy treats and toys’, this will take a little time and love.

If he has a redeeming quality, he’s ‘easy’, being small he doesn’t pull on the lead, he walks at a steady pace along side, he can easily be picked up, if you don’t mind being seen giving him a cuddle, and he doesn’t eat much.

So, if you want an ‘easy’ dog and don’t mind people saying “oh my god he’s so ugly”, then give me a call on XXXXXX.

All together now. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh!

Does your Grandma know you've borrowed her cardie?

2007-02-16T01:04:00.000Z

It's not big. It's not clever. Or as Howard puts it "straight men dressed as old ladies."

I'm going to start a campaign to ban all men under the age of 50 from wearing cardigans. The Department of Happiness was set up to ensure the wellbeing of all and sundry. Clearly they are not doing their job. First thing tomorrow I'm going to write a letter warning of the evils of the he-cardigan (TM).

That's the only thing getting on my wick this week. That and the fact I trooped around Oxford Street for two hours this evening and returned home empty handed.

Shrove Tuesday next week. Pancakes!!!!!!!!!

Valentines Day

2007-02-14T14:32:00.001Z

This morning I woke up, jumped in the shower, threw on my clothes, dried my hair, threw a card and a box of chocolates at my sleeping boyfriend and legged it out of the door.

And they say romance is dead.

Better than a frying pan round the head, that's what I say!

Today was the first Sign Club at work. I had it all planned out. First a short introduction to sign language establishing that I am not a qualified teacher - if they want to learn it proper, like, go on a course. After this I handed out a fingerspelling chart and paired everyone up for a speed dating session where they had to introduce themselves by their porn star names (first pet name and the name of the first road you lived on). It is Valentines Day after all. Then a run through the alphabet and any key words they wanted to know - who, why, where, how, when, what and countless cuss words that would have my mother clipping me round the ear.

I was shaking like a leaf.

And I have orange dye between my fingers from my fake tan.

You can't buy class.

Valentine Penguins

2007-02-13T17:19:00.001Z

Howard reckons monkeys are the new zombies that were the new pirates that were the new Friday that were the new black.

I digress.

Penguins are the way forward. Oh yes.

I popped into Paperchase today to pick up a card for my friend who is getting wed this weekend. MOB SCENES ALL-ROUND. Armies of men were assembled round the Valentines Day cards, pushing and shoving. It was like the Harrods January Sales times ten.

Scary stuff.

But I managed to escape with my life and my wedding cards. Barely.

Half Baked Daffodils

2007-02-09T16:05:00.001Z

I have just spent five minutes smelling various cups of tea to try and identify which cup has sugar in it.

The Girl Who Takes Her Top Off In Restaurants (TM) made tea for everyone on the Third Floor. One person took sugar. The rest of us didn't. Only they didn't know which cup the sugar was in. You see our dilemma. Hence our smelling session.

But the fun doesn't stop there. Oh no.

Our Head of Documentaries is bidding us a sad farewell. Two people, who we shall call Laurel and Hardy, decided they couldn't let him go without giving him something to remember them by. Cue an impromptu photo session in the office using a Polaroid camera and various props including a bunch of daffodils, a dustbin lid, two balloons, a banana, drumsticks, an umbrella, several masks. Basically anything that wasn't nailed down.

In all my years I shall never ever forget the sight of Laurel and Hardy laid spreadeagled on the floor covered in a blanket of daffodils pretending to have met their maker.

They say you have to be mad to work here, and I'm pretty sure they're all half-baked. So I'm in good company, methinks.

I've just finished a book called Like Water For Chocolate , a poignant, magical, beautifully written book set in Mexico. Definitely worth a read.

In other news:

We had a SNOW day! And naturally we had the wrong kind of snow, throwing public transport everywhere into chaos.

Meester Howard will be displaying his amazingly artistic works of art in Battersea on Tuesday. All bow down to the God of Art!

Oh, and my favorite news article of the week: From Spaceflight to Attempted Murder Charge. Personally, for me it's the nappy which makes the story.

Enjoy your weekend wherever you may be!

Officially the World's Worst Joke

2007-01-30T18:34:00.001Z

Me: "I've just been reading up on these leg-lengthening procedures. Absolutely gruesome."

Friend: "Are you pulling my leg?"

*groans*

Hmm. Perhaps I should pop down to HMV on my lunch break...

2007-01-29T12:30:00.001Z

Jordan and Peter cured my deafness

by Suzy Austin. Metro, 29/01/07

Jordan and Peter Andre's debut album has been deluged with cheeky online reviews, with listeners claiming it can cure arthritis, deafness and even blindness.

The couple's slushy love ballads on A Whole New World received a remarkable 51 five-star reviews on website Amazon.

But Jordan, aka 28-year-old Katie Price and Andre, 33, are said to have found them hilarious.

'There are not many albums on Amazon that average five stars. It puts them up there with the likes of The Beatles,' said a source.

One reviewer, D Marshall, wrote: 'I sat there blind and in pain with my joints as usual and A Whole New World came on the stereo. It was like magic. I began to see lights and then colours and, before I knew it, I could see everything.' Peter Brant, of Worthing, West Sussex, added: 'I was transported to a world of colour and the sounds of angels. I could hear. Tears rolled down my face.'

Other jokers claimed it was perfect background music for sex, had saved their marriage or was 'a turning point in the history of Western music.'

Love Thyself

2007-01-26T14:46:00.001Z

Egosurfing: the practice of typing our name into an Internet search engine to see what sites appear. Also known as 'egogoogling' or 'autogoogling'.

(Psychologies, February 2007)

Random Texts from my Dad

2007-01-24T18:15:00.001Z

"Good morning, did you know that the cheetah is the fastest 4-legged animal on the planet? Speeds of 70mph. Anyhow, thought for the day - if we crossed one with a hedgehog it would stop the carnage on the roads. If they could outrun cars, we could call them cheetahogs. Have a great day. Love Dad."

"When I worked on the [building] site I was known to work with a cardboard box on my head. Life was tough. Love Dad."

"I don't know if you can help me. I am trying to source where I can buy muzzles for guinea pigs. I am thinking of training them in guerilla warfare and hiring them out as mercenarie and I don't want them escaping and terrorising Poole. Love Dad."

(regarding my blog post on the White Van Man)

"Hey, read your blog. I had a white van once and it used to make me angry when people put their wipers and washers on. It used to take days to get over. I even had to consider counselling. Love Mr Angry."

"I was thinking about pink plastic flamingo racing for the Olympics. Matty has agreed to be my herdsman for the year. Do you think I can trust him? It gets a bit lonely out on them hills at night. Love Dad."

Is Emailing the New Blogging?

2007-01-23T21:35:00.001Z

So. It's been a while since I've posted. Again. I know I said that I'd blog more frequently but the new company that I work at has blocked blogger! The nerve!

I know. I know. I know what you're all thinking. How can you cope without your weekly (or thereabouts!) fix of Exclusively Caroline? Well, I think I've just found a loophole. Emailing to your blog! It's not ideal, but hey, beggars can't be choosers.

So this is a test to see if it works. If it does you'll be hearing a lot more from me on my lunch breaks!

So what do you make of all this Channel 4 business then? I watched Shipwrecked at the weekend. I have to admit I am a fan. I was shocked by the pro-slavery statement, but then that's Channel 4 isn't it? They like to be controversial and broadcast programming that's right on the edge. To be honest, I actually feel quite sorry for Jade. It was her decision to enter the house for the second time but I do think she was exploited a fair bit. She's on suicide watch now apparently. Poor thing. That other lass on Shipwrecked is probably going to get a right rollocking too; although I hear in the second show she eats her words.

Enough rubbish. This is supposed to be a test post. Coming up shortly - some of the random texts my father has sent me!

Flickr

2007-01-23T21:21:00.001Z

This is a test post from , a fancy photo sharing thing.

Road Rage

2007-01-14T18:47:00.000Z

I went to Hammersmith for a haircut yesterday. And it's very nice, thank you for asking.

The salon I go to belongs to Steve's uncle (Steve being my sisters boyfriend). It's slightly off the beaten track, so the best way to get there is to drive.

So early Saturday morning I'm pootling along to Hammersmith with Steve in tow. It's my sisters car. It's yellow with a pink steering wheel so I was wearing a ski mask too. No, not to rob a bank, but in fear someone might recognise me.

One sausage sandwich, a cup of tea and a haircut later I'm pootling along back to Camberwell when all of a sudden at the Brixton/Camberwell junction at Vauxhall I get cut up by a White Van Man.

Now there are a variety of methods for demonstrating your annoyance. I didn't give him the finger because it's not big nor clever, children. Besides, he wouldn't have seen me. So instead I went to sound my horn. But it wasn't where it was supposed to be. So instead I washed my windows at him. Vigorously.

I think that I really taught him a lesson and obviously he drove away in terror, vowing never to cut up another female driver. In a yellow car with a pink steering wheel.

There's Something In My Eye

2007-01-08T21:01:00.000Z

As always, the Snot Monster (TM) has impeccable timing. I have the biggest, baddest cold in the West and I was supposed to start work today. I couldn't really go in all hellos and germy germs - so here I am in my sickbed at home. New start date is this Wednesday so I have one more day to shake it off!

Can't say I have much news, I've spent the past few days being ill. I did pop to Portobello Road Saturday morning to meet a friend from Ireland. My favourite cafe, The Grove, which did the best sandwiches in London and proper steaming mugs of tea has closed down. This is not a good start to 2007!

Sick people watch DVD's from their deathbed. And I am no exception. So in the absence of any news, here's 3 short and sweet soundbytes from my housemates to sum up the films we've seen this week.

Snakes on A Plane - "I nearly wet myself laughing." Somehow I suspect not quite the reaction David R. Ellis was looking for. If your favourite colour is green and you like dead snakes, then this is the film for you.

Cars - "More fun than cutting up a White Van Man." And that IS fun... A lovely, lovely film and I really want to go tractor tipping with Mater!

Rent - "Tearjerking and uplifting." This quote was from my sister's boyfriend. But then, he did cry at Wicked. Definitely worth a watch. Bring tissues.

And he just cried right now when he read this blog.

I Heart Camberwell/2007 Predictions

2007-01-04T17:42:00.000Z

Good evening dear readers, tonights plan involves running rampant in Camberwell with a power drill. Give it a wide berth if you can!

I'm a happy, happy chappy at the moment. I'm having the strangest week. Today went to the jewellery shop to get my necklace fixed. Only cost a couple of quid but I didn't have any change on me, only a big note. The guy in the shop didn't have anything to break it with, so his friend offered to pay for it.

THIS KIND OF STUFF NEVER HAPPENS IN LONDON!!!!!!!!!!!

So big up to the lovely jewellery repair shop in Camberwell and the guys mate. May your year be full of love, luck and success.

Howard made some predictions for 2007, so I am going to make some too...

Leo Sayer will win Celebrity Big Brother.
Tony Blair will apologise for all his freeloading, then promptly go off for a holiday in Wales, caravanning with Charlotte Church.
Size 0 will go out of fashion and all the models on the catwalk will be obese.
Cloned food will hit Britain, with Blair discussing the merits of how "one good burger will taste the same as the next," before dashing off to catch his plane to the Maldives.
Skulls and crossbones will FINALLY go out of fashion (and I can wear my cool new top without feeling like a sheep).
Reality TV will hit a new low with ITV's show "Crime Does Pay", with criminals everywhere being paid £50 for the clip of their latest ASBO offence from CCTV.
The OC gets axed (Oh sorry, that's already happened).
Southampton will be promoted to the Premiership.
Volleyball will become the new national sport, fronted by none other than Posh Spice.

Well that's my lot - feel free to post any predictions and we'll reassess in December 2007!

Big Brother, Big Life and Shoe Racks

2007-01-03T18:28:00.000Z

Well, the last part of 2006 was quite interesting. Take That are back (for good), I saw Wicked at the Victoria Apollo (and it was just as it said on the tin), my younger sister turned 24 leaving me feeling a right old biddy and the majority of my Christmas present were Indian-themed. Bar a fantastic 4 by 3 screen print of Audrey Hepburn (note to self - buy picture hooks).

2007 has only just started. I've got a new job, a new shoe rack and Celebrity Big Brother is on. My friend, Jen, will be glued to the television. My money is on Leo Sayer, personally. Not that I'll watch it again after today, although it does look quite controversial this year!

Oh, and H from Steps has come out as being gay. Quelle surprise. I don't think anyone will have been choking on their cornflakes at breakfast this morning.

I'm going to try and blog more this year. I've just found it quite hard since I got back from India. Travelling was the experience of a lifetime and when I got home I found everything quite flat in comparision. But I'm going to make an effort to do more so I have things to blog about!

Incidently, my next blog post was to be about signing on. I was planning a huge rant on fighting my way through the unwashed masses to the Jobcentre. Only problem is I've just been offered work at Betty Productions, starting on Monday. God, I'm SO excited!

It's Faceman from the A-Team! That brings an end to this blog post!

I Heard It Through The Grapevine

2006-12-24T18:23:00.000Z

*watching Duet Impossible on BBC1*

"Dad, did Marvin Gaye's dad really shoot him?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because he didn't like his music."
"Really?!?!"

I should know better after 26 years, shouldn't I?

Green Apple and Pink Grapefruit

2006-11-24T14:59:00.000Z

I'm sorry for not posting for quite a while. The past week has been a bit up and down for me and I really didn't want to blog about depressing things!

Job interview the other day. I didn't get it! But hey, it's their loss, not mine!

Having said that - met with another indie (independent production company) this week. If they get a commission there's a possibility of a six month contract with training. I expect you all to have your fingers well and truly crossed for me!

Now that's the boring stuff over.

I had a hair cut!!!

Reactions ranged from one end of the spectrum to the other. JR told me that it was a "Sienna Miller Mistake". Another friend told me that she wanted to take a photograph to show her hairdresser. My boyfriend thinks it makes me look like a smart, sexy, professional businesswoman. What do you think?

I'm the one with brown hair, by the way. The gorgeous blonde is my friend, Kate. Hands off chaps, she's married!

In other news...

It's Friday!! So tonight we're going to have a big night in with lots of alcohol, a pack of cards and more surreal conversation with my sister.

>>advertisement for cleaning product on television<<
"Kills 99.9% of harmful bacteria such as E.coli, Salmonella, MRSA and the Flu virus."

Me: "If it kills the Flu virus, does that mean if you're ill with the flu and you spray it in your mouth you'll be back to normal in no time?"

Sis: "Possibly, and you'll also have pine-fresh breath."

Me: "I think they only have it in Green Apple and Pink Grapefruit flavour."

My standards are slipping. I'm sorry. I'll try harder next week!

I don't turn my nose up at toast, do you?

2006-11-17T14:22:00.000Z

I recently went to this lovely little cafe in Clapham with Howard where for a few quid you can cut yourself some huge wedges of different types of bread; toast them at your table, and them slather on as much butter and preserves as you want.

A far cry from the soggy barely browned toast which is the norm in London caffs.

I was telling my mother about it this morning...

Gail says:
i can make toast at home DIY for 2p
Gail says:
i have a toaster in my kitchen
Caroline says:
philistine
Gail says:
it comes from living in Dorset
Gail says:
we're not as sophisticated as you London folk
Gail says:
we make our own toast
Gail says:
i can even fry an egg at a push
Caroline says:
oh whatever!!!
Caroline says:
i will take you there one day anyway
Caroline says:
so i can have the toast
Caroline or Fred says:
and you can sneer
Gail says:
i NEVER sneer
Gail says:
i dont DO sneering
Gail says:
i am NOT a sneerer

Hmm.

Car Crash Television

2006-11-13T22:47:00.000Z

Now I don't do reality television. I really, really, really don't.

I don't understand why people want to watch car-crash television, let alone participate in it. OK, so there's one zillion pounds up for grabs... But in the grand plan of things you are not going to win it unless you are an illegal immigrant who just happens to be a homosexual tranvestite with tourettes and some other kind of fashionable ailment to boot.

I think I only have one friend who ticks all those boxes...

I must confess, I do tune in to the very first programme in a series though. Not because I have a closet-love of reality television. Oh no. Merely because I want to see what kind of walking-talking disasters have been recruited on the latest show.

So it was with great trepidation I tuned in to I'm A Celebrity, Get Me Out of Here.

Is it just me, or is David Gest the scariest thing in that jungle??

I think I'm going to start watching it on a regular basis.

Flame-Proof Cars

2006-11-09T19:59:00.000Z

Saw Lydia today, also known as She-Who-Never-Answers-Texts(TM). She popped over to hide her flame-proof car from the nasty traffic wardens in Elephant and Castle. As you do.

She recently delivered to me all 1,399 of our travel photographs. Apparently she bored her parents to tears the other weekend. Mum and Dad, you have been warned!

Birthday party upcoming very soon - Lydia and I wearing our saris. Next week we're going to West Ham to shop for bindis, mehendi, fragnant jasmine and jangly Indian bracelets.

I can't wait!!!

Still looking for employment - I give it two more weeks before my new place of residence becomes the dole queue.

Overheard Words

2006-11-08T17:52:00.000Z

This was actually sent to me by Howard - but seeing as he hasn't put it up on his blog, I'm going to pinch it!

Dude 1: "What's that tower, dude?"
Dude 2: "Which one?"
Dude 1: "That one, with BT written on it."
Dude 2: "The BT Tower."
Dude 1: "Oh, that's a bit crap."
Dude 2: "Yeah."

Random Musings

2006-10-31T13:06:00.000Z

Do Smurfs inbreed?

How does someone "zig-a-zag-ah"?

Can you really live in the belly of a whale at the bottom of the sea?

In libraries do they put the Bible in the fiction or non-fiction section?

If you can answer any of these, or have any yourself - please do feel free to add!

Nonexistential Sushi

2006-10-26T17:46:00.000+01:00

Every Christmas Eve the family get together to eat calorie-laden food and shake all the boxes underneath the Christmas tree.

Normally we get Chinese take-out. However, this year my mum has suggested we have DIY sushi.

By DIY sushi she means I will make it.

I explained to my mother that when the storks gave out sushi-making skills I was noticeably absent. As a matter of fact, I was probably the one at the back carving hearts into my school desk.

To be more accurate I was telling my mother that my sushi wrapping skills were nonexistent. Only it came out wrong.

Nonexistential sushi.

Which is an entirely different kettle of fish.

So basically what I'm saying is that sushi is a 20th century philsophical movement; that people are entirely free and thus responsible for what they make of themselves. Or not, as the case may be.

The Fear

2006-10-26T17:11:00.000+01:00

I went to the doctors today.

No, I don't have a life-threatening disease that will render all human life obsolete. Sorry. I'm really not that interesting.

Rather, I went to register at the doctors.

I don't like doctors surgeries. They're full of sick people. You would think they'd be more considerate and make them queue round the back. Even worse, it's half term, so they're full of sick whiny children with snotty noses.

The stuff nightmares are made of.

Anyway - we had a nasty receptionist who claimed that the letter from our landlord was not sufficient evidence of our residence. That we could have fabricated it on our home PC all because we're so desperate to be members of this particular surgery. I mean, obviously this surgery is really cutting edge and all the 'slebs are on a waiting list to get exclusive membership.

I hate receptionists.

I would love to tell you that I shot her a withering glance, grabbed her by her lapels and said, "you are what evil looks like." I would love to say that I gave her The Fear.

But I didn't.

I hung my head low in shame and trooped home in resignation to find my telephone bill.

Androgyny is the new Black

2006-10-25T17:22:00.000+01:00

I'm not one for following the herd, I'd rather do things before they become fashionable.

I did zombies - then all the undead brethren staggered along.

I did comics - then Seth from the O.C. made geekdom cool.

I did pirate-chic - but then Johnny Depp and Alexander McQueen had everyone jumping on board for a spot of swashbuckling.

Now my latest thing is androgyny.

I met a guy in the pub last week. I'm not entirely sure what his real name is, possibly Rodney, he looked like one to me. Either way, his name was Mark. Or at least, that's what half of his friends called him. The other half called him Dylan. One friend, Rob, referred to him as Mark Dylan. As for Howard. He calls him Mark when talking to him, and Dylan when talking about him (or was that the other way round?).

Confused yet?

Anyway, I've decided I want two names.

From this moment forth, you can call me Fred.

Or Caroline. I'll answer to both.

But only if you're good-looking and have a six pack.

You know, one day I might actually blog about something worthy...

The Elixir of Life

2006-10-20T22:53:00.000+01:00

I have discovered a whole new level of freakdom.

Sure, I acknowledge that in a parallel universe somewhere light years away it is entirely normal to eat (and even enjoy) tomato ketchup and chocolate spread sandwiches. I bet someone in Norfolk even enjoys dipping (plain) French Fry crisps in their Creme Egg.

People. You know who you are.

But,but,but... today in a bar in London I witnessed someone pour chilli nuts into their refreshingly-cold, condensation speckled glass of Coke.

Now these things happen by accident. But for the guy in question the accident was he'd bought chilli nuts, not plain nuts.

And he gulped it down as if it it was the elixir of life.

Freak.

Sticky Fingers

2006-10-20T11:13:00.000+01:00

I like stuff.

BUT I LIKE STUFF EVEN MORE IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO PAY FOR IT.

I'm not advocating shoplifting, so get your sticky fingers off that Mars Bar right now. Yesterday, went to Bond St with my friend, Iz, DP were doing a promotion for Breast Cancer and if you donated £2 you got a carrier bag full of goodness.

I like free stuff, or at least stuff you only need to pay two pounds for.

I also like red shoes.

Please note that aforementioned shoes above are RED not pink. And I am no longer talking to my mother.

Pebble-dashed Housing

2006-10-16T17:35:00.000+01:00

Of late I've been looking into journalism.

"What??" I hear you cry, "And your ambitions to be a big-shot producer-slash-director with a string of BAFTAs under your belt for your cutting edge documentary on pebble-dashed housing?? What is to become of you?"

Fear not, that's still up there in my list of Ten Things To Do Before You Hit 30. It's just that journalism was always my dream; I've been writing for as long as I can remember; albeit most of what I scribble ends up in the back of my drawers along with the mothballs and assorted junk I seem to accumulate.

Also television is unpredictable and competitive. As is journalism - and this is the kind of challenge I crave.

Speaking of which, I was checking out this website. If you work as a hack or if you have a blog and are hard up for material - have a look. There is a section devoted especially to subjects that you could write about. Now how many times have you sat there thinking "Oh lordy, what can I write about? I've talked about Tony Blairs wrinkles and the statue of limitations on dog poo. What more do the people want??"

Well here's a couple of todays suggestions:

Cycle route information.
Rare breed sausages.
What do you want to be when you grow up?
Dognapping on the up.

Is it just me, or does anyone else think it's a bit of a slow news day? :o)

Calling Jade Goody

2006-10-12T16:31:00.000+01:00

Honestly, sometimes I think I'm channeling Jade Goody.

The other day I was out in Angel with my friend, Howard. I was commenting on how many new branches of Hamburger Union were opening around London. I'd been away for three months and they seem to be everywhere at the moment.

"They're like rabbits. But with beef."

Errrrrr.

Tellyvision

2006-10-09T20:14:00.000+01:00

Going through a lot of lifestyle changes at the moment - so a bit of an emotional wreck. *wibbles*

Today wrote up and submitted my two documentary ideas to 4 Real. If one of them gets commissioned I'll be able to make a 30 minute documentary on either pirates!!! (arrrrr!) or rollerskating.

God I'm so edgy now. I wonder when they'll let us know.

Bring Back the Wispa!

2006-10-03T16:09:00.000+01:00

Ever since I've been back in London I've been trying to find out more about all the free things I can see and do. I have so much time on my hands; I need some form of entertainment before I start going crazy and walking sideways into walls.

Now most of the free things in London don't really appeal to me. I'm sure there are thousands of Mozart lovers out there. But not really my cup of java.

Then I found this spark of divine inspiration.

In a nutshell if you have a burning issue keeping you awake at night then you now have the means to stand up and make your voice heard. Maybe you want to bring back the Wispa or campaign for pedestrian crossings for frogs (something I feel very strongly about), perhaps you think computer chairs are evil and should be melted down and transformed into G-Wiz's. The possibilities are mind-boggling.

The police have the right to stop mass protests in the designated area around Parliament (i.e. within 1km), but if you apply for the appropriate licence for a sole demonstration at your police station 6 days before the protest they have to grant it to you.

This guy here came up with the concept. He announced at the more recent protest that this is going to be a monthly event, much to the elation of attending police.

Absolute. Genius.

I'm off to make my placard.

Overheard Words

2006-09-27T18:11:00.000+01:00

"I don't like ASDA - it costs £2 to park the car and £1 to get a shopping trolley. The kind of people who shop there, that's half their grocery money gone before they've even entered the supermarket."

"Why is it that when standing in the queue at supermarkets I'm always behind the person with nothing but little box meals in their shopping cart? It's frightening to think that entire families are being brought up on little boxes."

The internet is not my friend

2006-09-25T10:36:00.000+01:00

Technology is a good thing. It gives us eco-friendly cars, it cures cancer, it allows people from all over the world to communicate at the mere flick of a button.

But today I had to use MSN to speak to my own mother despite the fact we were in the same room...

Alas - gone are the days of holding hands and singing "kumbayah" round a camp fire. Now it's all instant messages and email.

Anyway, speaking of email, was browsing the junk in my inbox today - amongst the usual spam promising penis extensions and solutions to improve my sexual prowess was an advertisement for a Loftcube.

A Loftcube is a portable house - for a nomad like me, this is perfect, for upwards of 11,000 American dollars (and the exchange rate is my friend) I can have a structure that can be moved by freight helicopter or construction crane to anywhere I like. Such as a beach in Goa.

Now I just gotta start saving up for that freight helicopter.

Caroline xx

Life Laundry

2006-09-24T23:07:00.000+01:00

I feel like I've found my peace.

After India, London was overwhelming. All those anonymous faces breezing past me, the overwhelming size of the city... You realise just how insignificant you are - a sole star in the Milky Way. One singular light amongst millions.

So I headed home to Poole.

My dad picked me up from Southampton in his little blue van. We spent the first 15 minutes of the drive chatting then I just sat there and stared at the landscape. It was one of the most beautiful things I had ever seen since arriving in England. Huge fluffy white clouds superimposed onto a haze of blue. They seemed as if they were right ahead of us - as if we were driving towards them; some sort of castle in the sky that we could climb and romp amongst. The sun glinting over the New Forest - the woody green contrasting with the cyan-blue sky.

This evening I sat on a rock, looking out on Poole Harbour, at the dazzling lights of the town and marvelling at it's beauty. I have spent one week being miserable, seeing things in shades of grey. Now I see the splendour once more. The fog has lifted.

Since I've been home I've had so many questions. Travelling has made me realise just how much of a free spirit I am. I cannot be harnessed nor held down. I need to make some major lifestyle changes. I've identified just who I am, and I have an idea of what I want. Now I just have to bite the bullet and make things happen.

And I will.

Caroline xx

Travelling Blues

2006-09-22T15:13:00.000+01:00

I've been back in England for nearly 4 days now. It feels strange. Coming home has been a bit of an anticlimax. So many things have happened, but I feel almost detached from reality.

Met up with my good friend, Howard, yesterday. Whilst checking his blog today I realised that in his post he has conveyed in just a few simple sentences exactly how I'm feeling at the moment. It's harder for me to write about it, as I'm the one going through it all.

Since Lydia and I have been home we've had to deal with the culture shock of being back in a buzzing city. Sure, India is just as cosmopolitian in it's own way - but here things are so much faster. People breeze past you, paying you no more attention than they would a ghat. Nobody stares at me. To quote "Holy Cow," in India I was famous just for being white. Now I'm just Caroline.

I miss the friendliness of India. I miss walking down the road, waving at the multitude of people we befriended. I even miss the clamour of rickshaw drivers, circling us like vultures. London has no soul.

The hardest thing for me is being without Lydia. I spent three months of my life with her. We slept in the same bed. Experienced the same whirlwind of emotions. Fought with rickshaw drivers. Drank rum and coke whilst watching the sun set. We gossiped, bitched and basically just enjoyed our Indian experience. I feel as if I'm missing a limb. I keep expecting to turn around and see her next to me; to dissolve into giggles at her newest turn of phrase. I feel all wrong.

I know things will get better soon. I just need to adapt, take it easy for a bit.

It'll get better. As Sandeep says, "wherever there is life, there is hope."

Caroline xx

Incredible India

2006-09-19T12:45:00.000+01:00

Our last few days in Palolem were bittersweet. We did so much - went into Margao with Dom and Julie to buy a sari. Afterwards we headed back to Palolem and went to Mathew's wifes house to meet his beautiful daughters and learn how to put on a sari. Rita, Mathew's wife, was a real slave driver - we spent about an hour and a half putting it on, taking it off, putting it on, taking it off until she was satisfied!

Had a final poker night - seeing as we were leaving we knew that we were going to lose, but went in guns blazing anyway. Lost 500Rs, but seeing as we won 400 last time we're only down 100. We'll be back very soon for another round, and next time we're taking it all and Dom's motorbike!

Dom arranged for a free taxi to the train station for us and Sunil came along for the ride. It was coming down with rain, matching our moods exactly. At the train station we were in a dilemma as to whether we should get on the train or stay. Leaving broke our hearts - saying goodbye to everyone, Dom, Julie, Sumo, Dilip, Aggi, Sunil, Joe, Kitty - it was all I could do to hold back the tears.

Overnight train to Mumbai was OK, took a sleeping pill and crashed out. Woke up at the unearthly hour of 5am to disembark. We had to face the rickshaw vultures once again - I hate the big cities, the touts there are unbelieveable and we always end up getting ripped off. Headed to airport to drop off bags and then to a posh hotel where we paid 600Rs each for breakfast!!

Mumbai is quite a nice place, it's a big city - so wasn't expecting to like it. We only had a few hours there, so next year we will go back and explore it in full.

Headed to airport and jumped on our flight to Delhi. We had a huge row with the air hostess on the plane. Seats weren't assigned so you sat where you pleased. We grabbed a seat with a bit of extra leg room for Lydia as she is so tall. One of the trolley dollies came over and started speaking to us - but we couldn't understand her. Explained that we were both deaf, could she please write it down or at least speak slower/gesture. She went storming off, bringing another air hostess who promptly started shouting at us that we had to move seats.

We were quite happy to move seats, but wanted to be asked nicely - by this point we had three air hostesses all shouting and gesturing at us to move, and everyone on the plane was looking at us. I was furious. Found a pen and wrote on a piece of paper that next time they met some deaf people at least have the decency to treat them with a bit of respect.

I hate trolley dollies - they should be hung, drawn, quartered and put out for the vultures along with rickshaw drivers.

Arrived in Delhi in one piece and promptly got ripped off by a taxi driver and a hotel. Such is life. I hate Delhi. Had our last beers in India, got eyeballed and chatted up by two tables of boys and then headed back to our room for a bit of peace. All we could think was "roll on tomorrow," we didn't want to leave Palolem, but we also didn't want to stay in Delhi for longer than necessary. We're never ever going back there again.

I love India. I love the passion there. I love the people. I love the way of life. The smells, the sounds, the cacophony of horns, the haggling, the colours, the way everyone wants to be your friend. India was the experience of a lifetime - in three months I went through every emotion possible. Sadness, happiness, anger, love, you name it - we felt it. Three months of soul-searching have left me feeling more contented and more confident about myself. I now know what I want from life, what makes me happy.

Lydia and I are going to move to Goa. We're going to start looking for work very soon and move there for a minimum of one year.

The only thing that scares me is if I go. I may never leave.

And thus concludes our travels in India - but we're not yet done - it's not the end. It's the beginning.

Caroline xx

Elephant Update

2006-09-15T14:54:00.000+01:00

Spoke to Dom - turns out that the elephants are made of clay and they dissolve in the water.

Now you know!

Poker Faces

2006-09-14T10:26:00.000+01:00

Good news - the council have been to Cozy Nook and it doesn't look as if it's going to be bulldozed! On the other hand, they've turned the electricity off... Still, I'd rather have no light than no hut!

Yesterday and today it's been really coming down with rain - monsoon has struck. We don't mind - we've had a lot of sunshine of late. Instead we sit in the restaurant with Dilip, Kitty and an assortation of people drinking chai, eating toast and playing cards. I'm really going to miss these people when we leave.

Dom, Julie and Aggie organised a poker night especially for us the other day as we were sick of being poker chicks. Went online to do some research and learn the cards - beach poker rules are different - so had to check. I think the version they play is called 5 card draw, with a minimum bet of 10Rs. It was a long game, starting at around 10pm and finishing at 4am and we won the final hand! We're not brilliant, but we do have quite good poker faces. We were issued with a "poker hunk" called Sandeep (who is the chef at Cozy Nook) - he was great, really helpful. Our only problem is that Indian people tend to be very expressive - and it's really easy to clock whether some of them have good cards or not. At one point I thought Lydia was going to sit on Sandeep to stop him cheering/pulling faces!! We started with 300Rs in chips, and promptly lost most of that, so put in another 100Rs. Things started to get better from then (mostly due to Sandeep!), and we finished the game having doubled our money. Not bad.

Met a fantastic couple at Cozy Nook. Their names are Anthea and James and they both hail from London. Anthea is a hairdresser who wants to be a dancer, and James is a DJ. We really clicked with them - they were so laid back and approachable. They're travelling for one year around the world, staying for only a few weeks in India before heading on to Singapore, Thailand, New Zealand, America and some other places. What an incredible experience that will be! On their last night we invited them to have dinner with us and Dilip, took them to a restaurant to grab some takeaway and set up a table on the beach. Great food, great company - nothing better on earth. We're really going to miss them and wish we could follow them on their travels! They will have the best time and we look forward to seeing them when they come home.

Tomorrow is our last night in Palolem - I think we're having another poker night - not sure. Might bet our plane tickets home! :o)

Last night Lydia and I went out for dinner with Dilip and Sandeep on the beach. It's amazing the amount of progress we've made in terms of communicating with people. We still do need to use a pen and paper quite frequently - but the majority of our conversation is done through international signs. Dilip and Sandeep are great at this. Lydia and I have talked about how so many people here are great at gestural communication, and came to the conclusion that India has over 200 languages/dialects - so that's probably why. If there is a visual form of communication they can all speak with each other in some form.

That's the one thing I'm really going to miss when I leave. Here when you tell people you're deaf it's rarely a problem, they whip out a pen and paper or start gesturing. Back at home when you tell them they fly into a mass panic and press the emergency button to summon the police or whatever. I exaggerate, but you get the gist!

Still - it is time to come home. Wish we could fly direct from Goa instead of having to go to via Mumbai and Delhi. Moan, moan, moan, moan....

Caroline xx

The tide is high, but I'm holding on

2006-09-10T09:14:00.000+01:00

The past few days have been a whirlwind of madness.

I've mentioned Dilip and Aggie, who have become very special to us. We've also met quite a few of their friends, Dom (local Casanova turned good) and Julie (Irishwoman semi-retired in Palolem), Matthew (Dom's brother), Sunil (helps oversee the restaurant and has a great poker face), Sinead (works in Bollywood industry in Goa) and many others whose names I can barely recall through my rum-sodden haze. :o)

The restaurant at Cozy Nook was supposed to open, so Aggie threw a huge party - free food and alcohol. Then some of the locals came over to play poker. Lydia doesn't know the rules, and I'm not familar with beach poker rules, so instead Dom adopted us as his "poker chicks." We did well, we won him 1,270Rs! Next poker game we're in, and we're going to take all Dom's money!

The restaurant hasn't opened though. The local government is refusing to allow it to go into business. It's not only Cozy Nook, but also restaurants and hotels up and down the beach. Basically a local law means no permanent structures can be built - and they keep a close eye on any modifications you make to your place of business. We're gutted - really wanted to see it open, but still - we had the party.

What else? Oh yes, there was a full moon the other night. Lydia and I walked down the beach and got some (fantastic!) Indian takeaway - we came back to the hotel, Dilip had lit some candles and put them in a huge circle. We all sat there to drink, eat, talk and laugh. We then dragged our mattresses outside and fell asleep looking at the stars until it started raining and we legged it quick sharp back to our hut!

Last night we went to a wedding near Margao as guests of Dom and Julie. Dom runs a taxi business in Palolem, both himself and his brother Matthew have matching camper vans. They were dressed all in black with rhinestone studded jackets. Julie said they looked like taxi mafia! They consider themselves to be Irish Goans, and their campervans reflect this - with fluffy shamrocks and leprechaun cluttering the dashboards!

The wedding was great - reggae music is big in Goa, Matthew had both Lydia and I up and dancing for a bit, although it didn't last long! It was far too hot. The hall was lit up with fairylights, and when the wedding procession started fireworks were set off in the background. Magical. Dom smuggled some rum and whiskey into the party, so we spent the evening ordering coke and lemonade and surreptitiously slipping our hard liquor into the glasses from underneath the table. Just like being a naughty schoolgirl once again!

Not long now till we come home. We're definitely not postponing our flight again - we'll be on that plane on the 18th. But I'm going to find it really hard to leave. India is not like other places, it is not a country ruled by laws, but rather by the heart. We're coming back for sure. We were talking to Julie last night and she has a friend in the Bollywood industry who will be setting up the Goan office. She is going to have a word with her friend and see if she can arrange something for us. Julie has said that if we decided to come back here to work she would be able to help us out in finding a job and a place to live. It's something that I'm seriously going to think about...

The tide is way up, so I'm going to wade back to my hut.

Caroline xx

Dog Language Update

2006-09-05T08:37:00.000+01:00

He definitely doesn't speak French either.

Can someone please send me the Spanish words for "please leave the room/exit"?

Any other suggestions very welcome.

Caroline xx

If you go down to the beach today, watch out for the elephants...

2006-09-05T08:15:00.000+01:00

For the past few days Lydia and I have had one question nagging at us. Day and night. All hours. Burning a hole into our brains.

What happens to the elephants?

Seriously. We needed to know.

So for the sake of research, and I know you guys want to know too - we asked two of our local friends, Dilip and Tumo/Sumo.

Dilip: *shrugs shoulders* "They've gone."
Tumo/Sumo: "Not today, not tomorrow, but the day after we're going in to get it back."

I think we need to ask a few more people, although I suspect we'll get a variety of different answers again!! :o)

Oh, we've adopted a family of puppies, or to be more accurate, they've adopted us! Not sure what breed they are, but they're lovely, if very frightened. Two of them are very slim, you can see the outlines of their ribcages, so we've been stockpiling biscuits to feed them. The Lord of the Cats is Not Amused. He doesn't like dogs. I think we're going to have to stop soon as their restaurant opens on Saturday and Aggie will kill us if puppies are running amok in his restaurant!

Last night we went to the world's most awful Italian restaurant - Little Italy, and if you're ever in Palolem - don't go there. The waiter was besotted with Lydia, she had to place my food order for me as he couldn't tear his eyes off her! We've attracted a considerable amount of attention in India because we're deaf white females, but last night really took the proverbial biscuit. Spotting that we were deaf he went into a series of elaborate gestures, and then went dashing off to get his notepad and promptly wrote:

Waiter: How long you not speak? You use hands to speak?
Lydia: We are deaf, we can speak but we prefer sign language.
Waiter: Last year I met a shame girl.
Lydia: What do you mean shame girl?
Waiter: Shame girl like you.

I can only assume that the word he was looking for was "same," but nonetheless...!

We also met one guy who is the restaurant supervisor at Cozy Nook. He has said that he will pray for us and Allah's love has no bounds, one day our hearing will return. We assured him that we were quite happy - good life, great family, job in the UK, yadda yadda, but he was insistant that we were poor lost souls that need to be saved by the great Allah. Oh well.

Pray for me.

Caroline xx

The Lord of the Cats

2006-09-04T06:40:00.000+01:00

I'd apologise for the lack of updates, but I wouldn't mean it - we've been having the most fantastic time here. I must admit to feeling a twinge of guilt for not having written for so long - and I'm finding this post very hard to write. My creative juices are not flowing well today, sorry folks!

It's amazing how fast time has flown - we've been in Palolem for over a week and it feels as if I've been here forever. We know so many people in the area now, walking through town has become time-consuming - with regular stops every few metres to say hello or wave at someone or have a cup of chai!

I'm not sure how many of you know this, but we were supposed to fly home today. We have since extended our flight and now return home on the 18th September. Palolem has stolen our souls.

We've become really good friends with Dilip, the hotel manager, and Aggie, the owner. I've mentioned Dilip before - he's great - a local lad who started out as a barman at Cozy Nook and is now the manager. He's only a few days younger than me and most of our evenings are spent with him chatting in the restaurant, drinking rum and coke. Aggie is totally unique, he reminds Lydia and I very much of Gandhi. He is a devoted cat lover, and they follow him everywhere - they worship the ground he walks on - Lydia and I call him the Lord of the Cats.

Dilip and Aggie seem to be very taken with us, last night (after a lot of rum and coke!) I asked Dilip why everyone was so good to us here. He told us that it was because we have good hearts - that they could see that as soon as they met us. Everytime Aggie is around he invites us to eat with him - he makes the best tandoori fish and will teach us how to make it. He refuses to let us walk down the beach to stock up on supplies; phoning up the local shops to arrange deliveries of rum and coke and other assorted goodies. He has given us a 100Rs discount on our hut, and the rates won't go up for us. The generosity of the people here leaves me speechless...

We were fortunate enough to witness the Ganesh Festival this week. Ganesh is a Hindu God symbolising good fortune and prosperity. He takes the form of an elephants head with a human body and 4 arms. Dilip invited us to his house for lunch to meet his family, witness their rituals and have lunch with them. We were given flowers to wear in our hair and a red bindi on our forehead (Dilip said I looked like a proper Indian because I have dark hair!), and were invited to sit in their temple next to Ganesh to watch the vision of colour, light and music that is their festival. Afterwards we sat on the floor eating traditional Indian food from a banana leaf using our hands. Fantastic.

But the fun didn't stop there - the Ganesh Festival takes place over a number of days. The families assemble in the evening to bring their statue of Ganesh down to the beach. The ceremony is performed one more time, then the males in the family carry the statue into the sea and immerse it in the water. There must have been over 50 families present, so Lydia and I have visions of people wandering out for a paddle and being very confused by the motley crew of elephants underwater! Dilip had the honour of being the male in the family to carry Ganesh down onto the beach and into the sea. Somehow the whole thing became much more personal to us because we know Dilip...

The other night we headed out to the Sameer Restaurant (best seafood in town!) to watch the big finale. A huge float with a massive statue of Ganesh, and another car with a megaphone and a band playing crawled up the road at about 1mph. Men and women, all in multicoloured outfits, many covered in pink dye were all dancing frantically. When the music stopped, they all cried out for more until it started again. The energy that they put into it was absolutely amazing, the atmosphere was electric and just watching made you want to grin ear-to-ear.

On the beach there were people swirling flaming pois, the band was playing, people were dancing, shouting, laughing - all this punctuated by the boom of fireworks and the screaming laughter of local boys throwing firecrackers at each other. Men and women wandered around bearing silver platters of sliced apple and nadu (a coconut and honey sweet), handing them out to all and sundry.

The sun is shining and I'm going to head back to my hut to sunbathe. I'm sure there are loads of things I've forgotten to mention - but it's always best to save a few stories for when we get home!

Love to one and all, see you when we get home.

Caroline xx

Recipe for the best EVAH chai

2006-08-28T07:08:00.000+01:00

For three people...

Put two cups of water in a saucepan to boil.

Get some fresh ginger (none of that powdered crap), wash it well and then crush it with a flat knife, don't chop it! Put in saucepan.

Add about 5-6 cloves to the saucepan.

Add 2 large strips of cinnamon to the saucepan.

Add powder tea or leaf tea and bring to the boil. Once it has boiled, turn the heat down.

Add about one cup of milk and stir well.

Return to the boil, sieve and serve!

Bon appetit!

Please leave the room.

2006-08-27T09:16:00.000+01:00

Arrived in Margao at the unearthly hour of 7.30am. Our train was supposed to pull in at 5.40am, so we were up at 5.30am and spent the next two hours in a grumpy stupor. Not even the thought of Goa was enough to pull us out of it!

No trains to Palolem until 14.20pm, so we caught a rickshaw there for the "government-approved" price of 600Rs. Quite a lot of money, but our only choice.

Goa. How can I possibly convey how wonderful it is here...? It's not just the location, it's moreso we've spent 2 months on trains/buses/coaches/rickshaws/in cramped hotel rooms - we've been moving around on average every 2-3 days; unpacking, repacking, unpacking, repacking... To arrive here with the sun shining, a blue sky, an even bluer sea - to walk down the beach and see the place where you're staying and know that you're going to be here for over a week. That you can relax, your adventure is nearly over. It's the best feeling. We're starting to feel that it's time to come home and face the real world - and Goa is our treat before doing so!

We are staying at a place called Cozy Nook, about 25 wooden huts based at the start of a lagoon. They're fantastic - our hut is worth 1,500 Rs a day, but because it's low season, we're only paying 400 Rs per day. It's made up of four rooms, a bathroom decorated with coloured rocks that is massive, a bedroom (complete with mosquito net, a fan and storage for our clothes), a sort of reception type room with a table and chairs and a candle, and a little conservatory. The best part is the hut is literally right on the beach, you walk out and feel the sand in your toes, the salt on your lips. To the right of our hut is a huge mound of jet-black rocks marking the start of the forest. At sunset when the tide is out you can climb over the rocks to watch the sun go down and the sky change all manner of colours.

Life here is really slow - there isn't really all that much to tell to be honest! We've mostly been sunbaking, swimming in the sea and trying out all the restaurants in the area. There's one place called the Magic Italian, which claims to be the only genuine Italian place in the area. They ship all their olive oil and Parmesan cheese over from Italy! Stone baked pizzas and a beer, mmm... nothing better! Or so we thought...

Until last night.

We went to this little restaurant right on the waterfront where they cooked us garlic and lemon tiger prawns with chips (that tasted like they were from a British chippie) and salad. New Cafe, move over - never mind best prawns, it was probably the best meal I've ever eaten in my life! We had a few too many beers - and started the long trek back to our hut (right on the other end of the beach!)...

Palolem has a lot of dogs, and according to John (a guy we met in Mamallapuram, but that's another story) they can be quite annoying. I love dogs, so didn't think it would really be an issue. However, that same night when we got back to the hut one of the local dogs decided he wanted to come in our hut. We tried everything to get him out, push him, point at the door, tell him off and left the hut to try and make him follow. Everything failed. Then Lydia had the bright idea of getting a large pad of paper and writing "OUT" on it, and showing the dog. It didn't work. I suggested that perhaps he couldn't read English,... try Hindu. So Lydia found the word for "exit" in her Lonely Planet, copied it down and showed the dog. It didn't work. I don't think he spoke Hindu. Thankfully our friend, Dilip came by and got rid of it. Maybe not that funny to you, but to two tipsy girls,... I was killing myself laughing!

Yes. We're mad.

What else? Oh yes, Dilip. He's 26 years old and works at Cozy Nook. Not sure what exactly his job is, but he makes the best milk tea with cinnamon and ginger! He's also a fisherman, and has been telling us all about catching sharks, apparently the best time to fish is June-July and if we come back next year he's going to catch 1,000 prawns and a shark for us! He's a real sweetheart - reminds us very much of a deaf person - very gestural and extremely nosey! Yesterday we sat outside with him watching the sea, chatting and drinking some of his exceptional tea. We're easily sold, just make us some good tea and we're your friend for life!

Lydia lost her sunglasses in the sea yesterday! Watch out for them on a beach nearby you soon...

Oh, we've booked our transport to Mumbai - we're catching the night train on the 2nd September, arriving Mumbai at 6am the next day. We then have a day to explore, then fly to Delhi. Overnight stay in Delhi then fly home on the 4th September. It's going to be so weird going home...

I wonder what my 10 weeks in India will have taught me, and how it will change my life...

Goa here we come!

2006-08-26T08:45:00.000+01:00

I apologise for being so lax - my only excuse is that I'm in Goa. When there's sunshine, fresh fruit juices, beer/rum a-plenty, a blue sea... the last thing you want is to be in front of a computer! I'm now sacrificing my sunshine time to update... be grateful!

OK, back to Hampi - it seems like years ago since we were last there! Our final day dawned - we were determined not to waste it. It was another lovely sunny day, so we headed upstairs for breakfast and bumped into Karan, a postcard seller we had become quite familar with. His mum specialises in mehendi, so we agreed to come along with him and his friend. We headed over to the main bazaar, the assumption was that they were taking us to the shop - but as they led us into the back lanes we were more than slightly baffled. Turns out that seeing as we were "friends" of theirs instead they were taking us to their family home!

The majority of houses in India are much more simple than they are in England. The family home consisted of one main room where the television/bedroom/living room/computer was. They had some other rooms in the back that we didn't see. The family was Laxmi (mother), Karan (oldest son) and Ravi (the cheeky little one!). They bombarded us with food and tea, Laxmi did some fantastic mehendi on our hands and they also gave us necklaces, incense and little ornaments as gifts. The people here have so little, but they are so wonderfully generous. The mehendi was supposed to be Rs300 for both of us - but Laxmi didn't want to take our money. We had to insist that she take Rs500 to thank her for such a wonderful morning. They were so taken with us that Ravi hid our shoes and begged us not to leave, and Laxmi invited us for dinner!

We were supposed to go and climb a hill just up the road, apparently fantastic views over Hampi; but we were so hot, and loving the company so much we decided to hold it till next year. Instead we spent the rest of the day in a little cafe in the main bazaar with Ravi and Laxmi, drinking Sprite. The shop owners wife made juggling balls and pois, and the shop owner showed off his juggling skills. Even Ravi (who is only 10) has excellent ball skills - he tried to teach Lydia, who is sadly quite rubbish! Still she's great with a football, and you can't have everything!

We met another young boy called Umesh, he is 15 years old and has one younger brother. He works as a stone carver and his sculptures are absolutely fantastic. He lost both his parents and the rest of his family when quite young, so it's only him and his little brother. He sat with us looking through the pictures on our phones and listening to the music, whilst drawing beautiful pictures of birds in our notepad. In all the hotels around here there are notices saying not to befriend the local people. I can understand that there are probably some very shady characters around; but when you meet people as wonderful as Laxmi, Ravi, Karan and Umesh you wonder just how many tourists are missing out on meeting the real people and seeing the real India.

Lydia and I have been very fortunate with all the people we've met in the past two months and a bit. Naturally we've met a few people who were a bit dodgy so we've got rid of them as quickly as possible without seeming rude - like the Mafia men in Varkala! We like to think we're quite good judges of characters. But the amount of people we've met, even if only for a short time, who have special memories for us is absolutely amazing. Fred and John, Delphine and Gaelle, Valeska, Karen, Pip, Joan and Rathna, Vathsan, Nazir, Richie and Sabu, Eliza, Fanny and Natalie, Eva and Michal, Jothi and Durai, Vino - there are probably many others that we don't recall off the top of our heads, but they have all been wonderful for different reasons.

I'm waffling. Anyway, back to the Mango Tree restaurant for a lovely lunch of samosas with chapati and hummus; then to the hotel to catch a rickshaw to the train station. Next stop, Hubli - dinner and a couple of beers before catching the night train to Margao. Goa, here we come!

Boarding School Beers

2006-08-23T13:12:00.000+01:00

Hampi is great. It's seriously great. The atmosphere and surroundings are so different from the rest of India. I'm finding it very hard to put into words just what the place is like. It's very earthy, with the landscape mostly made up of a mixture of grey and brown rocks and boulders perched atop each other. They have been there for hundreds of years, and will remain there for hundreds more, yet if you pushed one with your pinky they look as if they'd tumble over! The traditional Indian colour remains - with clothing, bags and jewellery spilling out of shops at every street corner. If you walk down to the main bazaar it's like a smaller more spread out version of Mysore - spices, toys, restaurants and cafes everywhere leading up to the Virupaksha Temple. Beautiful.

We've befriended a lovely local boy whose mum does mehendi - might get some done before we leave!

We've discovered a new sensation - cinnamon milk tea! Probably one of the nicest things I've ever drunk. Apart from beer. Oh, did I mention Hampi is dry? We were having severe withdrawal symptons and ended up getting a rickshaw to the next town so we could have a beer! There is one place in town called Mowgli which does sell beer, but it's on the other side of the river and there were no boats running when we arrived. Gutted as our fellow blogger recommended it. Oh well. We'll go next year.

The bar we went to was really strange. It was supposed to be a posh hotel, but think cheap plastic tables and chairs and dodgy toilets. The room was a sort of pinkish-white with the kind of artifical lighting you'd find in a boarding school. Quite surreal. But the people were lovely and hey, there was beer! Our rickshaw driver didn't turn up, so the hotel nicely summoned one for us. I spent the duration of the journey back to Hampi trying to fend off the amorous advances of the rickshaw drivers friend. At one point he had his hand on my leg and I thought Lydia was going to punch him! Nasty little creep.

Did a tour of Hampi today by auto-rickshaw. Saw the Sister Stones, an underground Siva Temple, a viewpoint overlooking the old city ruins and mint, Lotus Mahal, Elephant Stables, the Watchtower (it was blocked off - but we managed to find a hole to climb through so we could go up to the top!!), Hazarama Temple, the Palace, the Queens Bath, Vitthala Temple, Kings Balance and Taliargatti Gate. Photos a-coming at some point in the next ten years.

Our auto-rickshaw broke down! Now if your mode of transport breaks down the logical thing to do would be to try and see if you can fix it yourself, then if that fails phone the AA (the Indian version anyway), or perhaps have it towed to the nearest garage. Not here. In India when a rickshaw breaks down usually about 2,000 men commute around it and discuss for an hour what the problem could be. Once they have drunk their chai and had a gossip, they then try to fix it. And then when this fails they basically drive a functioning rickshaw behind the broken one, with the driver pushing it along with his foot. Utter brilliance.

It's funny, over the past few weeks we have attracted considerable attention being deaf white females. However today, we had more attention than normal. I have no idea why,... it's not as if we do cartwheels through the forts or light up spliffs in the middle of Jain temples. Every step we took, we had another Indian family asking for a photo. At one point I was trying to take a photo of the Stone Chariot at the Vitthala Temple and turned around only to see Lydia SURROUNDED by people all staring at her. It was actually really funny. We're used to it, so it doesn't bother us anymore.

We've finally tried thaly, or thali, as they say in the north. Tomato, tomahto *shrugs* still absolutely delicious however you pronounce/spell it. We went to a place called the Mango Tree Restaurant, overlooking the river. It's quite tricky to find if you don't know where you're going - you have to walk through a banana plantain to find it! You also have to take your shoes off when you go in, and you sit on little mats on the floor. There is a wooden swing tied to a tree so you can swing out over the river! Thaly or thali is a big dish including rice, dal (dhal), vegetables, chapati, curd (yoghurt) and papad. Some places also serve it with a type of chutney or pickle. It is enormous, and for only 40 rupees (which is just under 50 pence) - a real bargain! I can barely finish it - very much a case of our eyes being bigger than our stomach. Lydia and I are going native - we now wolf down our food with our right hands! I think we're going back again tonight...

Our travel plans have changed again - as usual! We're now leaving Hampi tomorrow for Margao, then catching a bus/train/whatever is available down to Palolem. We're hoping to stay at Cosy Nook if they have any vacancies - it sounds fantastic there! In addition, Lydia and I are a bit fed up of only spending a couple of days in each place. So we have decided to stay on for at least a week - and then see where the path takes us before we head up to Mumbai for our flight to Delhi on the 3rd September.

Enough from me, time for dinner - Lydia's tummy is rumbling and the room is shaking.

Caroline xx

"God has done a wrong thing"

2006-08-22T09:18:00.000+01:00

I must apologise for the delay in updating my blog - we just couldn't be bothered to be honest; plus I couldn't work out the punctuation on Eva's computer. And you can't type a blog post without punctuation, it'd be akin to writing with a broken pencil.

I know I raved about Mysore in my last post - but I'm not quite done yet. So bear with me a bit, and I'll get to Bangalore eventually.

Mysore - the Last Supper before we headed onwards and upwards! We decided to go to a place called the Park Lane Hotel, which Lonely Planet raves about. When we arrived, we could see why - they were undergoing refurbishment at the time; but it was still spectacularly beautiful - wooden beams, twinkling lanterns, a band on the lower floor. We were sat on the top floor, with views of the bustling ground floor - waiters scurrying around, steaming plates of food and bottles of beer precariously balanced on glistening silver trays. The atmosphere was incredible, although they did tut-tut slightly when we ordered our third beer!

I should warn you, the food isn't that good - although the surroundings (and the beer) do more than make up for it. I ordered Hyberbadi chicken which the menu claimed was very spicy, but barely had us breaking a sweat. I suspect they might have "Westernised" it for us. Lydia ordered some kind of fruit curry which the waiter said was a house speciality. It was vile. It looked like someone had thrown up on a plate. Still, it was great fun - and we had the smoothest waiter in history. Some of his one-liners had us in tears and deserve to be immortalised forever on this blog.

Lydia: "We're deaf and we don't use our voices."
Waiter: "God has done a wrong thing."

Caroline: (after looking at the dessert menu) "No thanks, I'm full."
Waiter: "Your face itself is dessert, so for you no need of dessert."

Probably one of the worst chat up lines I've heard in my time, but points for originality!

Next stop, Bangalore - three hours on a train preoccupied with Sudoku. We've both finished our Sudoku books and are in a bit of a panic! Life is surely over.

Anyway. Bangalore. We were staying with Eva and Michal, friends of my family. They have a fantastic place within driving distance of Central Bangalore, a roof-top garden, balconies outside all the bedrooms, a gorgeous dog called Horac. I wouldn't half mind moving in with them! It was fantastic to have so much space too after all the cramped hotel rooms we'd stayed in - a certain expression about swinging cats come to mind. And no, not that kind of swinging.

Michal took Lydia and I out to a shopping mall. We were gobsmacked. We've barely seen any Western-style shops, let alone a shopping mall. Adidas, Apple, Reebok, Dockers, Levis, you name it... We were like kids in a sweet shop. Having said that, Lydia and I find it quite tricky to find clothes in India - the Western style clothes in India are not the kind of thing that we'd wear back home. We don't feel comfortable forking out money for something that we'll only wear a couple of times then throw away when we get home. Call us Scrooge, but that's how it is!

Went out to a party in Bangalore to celebrate someones birthday. Drank their house dry as usual, it seems to be becoming a habit with us. Party was great - some really lovely people there. Indian parties are different from ours - they did have alcohol, and served snacks all evening; but at 10-11pm they have a huge meal - then send everyone home! I actually think it's a great idea - how often do you invite someone over to your place and then fidget for hours after dinner waiting for them to leave so you can wash up and go to bed? I'm going to start doing that when I get home. "Here's your dinner, now eat up and clear off!"

What else did we do in Bangalore? We attended a proper Indian wedding, which was fantastic - all colour, light and smoke! It was quite funny for me, English weddings are very prim and proper, everything organised, all the i's dotted and t's crossed. At Indian weddings everyone in the pews chat with each other, ignoring the wedding, and there doesn't seem to be any logical process. Utter brilliance! We went to a couple of steakhouses - 8 weeks of Indian food - we're craving beefburgers. Our taste buds sated, we're now back on the curries for 2 more weeks.

We also went for a drive around Bangalore with Michal - we saw Vidhana Soudha (Government House), and nearly saw the President of India. His car went past, but he didn't stop - probably scared by our big camera. Cubban Park, where Michal was forced to buy two custard apples - which were hideously disgusting and we got snapped by about 2,000 Indians and finally Lalbagh Botanical Gardens. Lalbagh was quite cool, great views of Bangalore. However, by this point Michal was going insane. Too many Indian people were coming up to him and asking him his name, where he was from and other such questions. It's sweet that they're interested, but when you've been living in Bangalore for 3 months and had this everyday of your life, I'm sure it becomes quite tiresome. So he pinched our method of getting rid of people. He used the sign for, "I'm deaf, I don't use my voice." That sent them all packing! We showed Eva, and she reckons she is going to start using it too - watch out for a dramatic increase of white people in Bangalore who claim to be deaf and without speech!

Oh, we also met up with a fellow blogger - Vathsan - who has been commenting on this blog. I'll add a link to his blog eventually when I work out how to do so, as he has fantastic photographs. Loved his outlook on life, he's 22, and wants to have travelled all of India before he hits 28. It's a fantastic ambition to have - and he gave us a lot of useful advice - namely that we really should allow for more time in each place! And he's right. Anyway, lovely guy, excellent tattoo and hopefully we'll see him again someday.

Our time in Bangalore was fantastic - places to go include Millers, 1912, The Only Place, MG Road and Eva's (a big shopping mall catering specifically for women). There's one other big shopping mall which we went to, but for the life of me I can't recall the name. Big thanks to Eva and Michal for putting up with us for two nights and giving us a much-needed break from budget hotels.

Eva said one thing to me that really stuck in my mind. A lot of our communication is done via either pen and paper (we always have a notebook handy!) or gestures. With Eva and Michal we relied primarily on pen and paper. On the last day, Eva said to me that she really liked this form of communication as she could finally understand everything that is being said. To which I replied that I have the same sort of problem in the UK, people speak so fast it's hard to follow everything that is being said. Mum, take note!

In brief - night train to Hospet - and rickshaw to Hampi. I think we're leaving for Goa tomorrow as we're having issues with transport. I'll update as soon as I know if I can find a decent computer!

Oh, we're having network problems - so don't bother texting us.

13 more days left - it's going so fast...

Caroline xx

Why do only fools and horses work?

2006-08-18T11:24:00.000+01:00

We survived the bus ride to Mysore. Barely.

Truth be told, it wasn't actually too bad. As you all know, Lydia makes the BFG look like a grasshopper. And she still had plenty of legroom when she reclined her chair. So not too bad, although I couldn't sleep for some reason.

So we're in Mysore. It's great! I wasn't expecting much, both of our travel books said not to get your hopes up. Many travellers who arrive have a preconceived idea of what Mysore is like - and are often bitterly disappointed. Fortunately Lydia and I arrived really early in the morning - so not much traffic around. Only the sweet smell of jasmine, and fresh fruit being cut - a great sight for tired eyes.

Our hotel is great! It's reasonably cheap and we have HOT WATER! I repeat. HOT WATER! We do wash everyday, I'll have you know, but most of the places we've stayed at we've had to grit our teeth and inhale sharply as we poured a bucket of ice-cold water over our heads.

We've been for a walk around Mysore - found the market - which is fantastic! Coloured powders everywhere - red, orange, yellow, green, blue and purple; bananas, apples, custard apples, mangos, coconuts, every vegetable imaginable, jewellery, kitchenware, honey, flowers - you name it! It's just how I imagined India to be. We wandered down the lanes, taking photographs when we were approached by a young boy. He asked us to come to his shop to watch them roll incense, so we toddled along behind him.

The incense/perfume shop was a surreal experience - the young boy showed us how incense was rolled, and then proceeded to display all the different scents that were available; pouring perfumed oils on any exposed skin. Both Lydia and I smell like the Boot's perfume counter! They brought us countless cups of chai and were really patient - taking us through all the oils and what their properties were. We ended up buying 10 bottles (5 each) for the bargain price of 1,000Rs each, including a small wooden box to keep the oils in and literally thousands of joss sticks!

Mysore is reowned for it's touts - people regularly approach you and try to get you to visit their friends shops. Often half of what you pay is passed on to the tout as commission, so anything you buy will be double the price! Additionally there are a lot of fake oils around, oils that have been filtered down with almond oil, and the price doubled. Lydia and I now know the best place to go - so if you're headed in that direction let me know and I'll pass on the information. The guy in the shop requested that I didn't put his name up on my blog. It's a lovely place, a family business ran by a man and his nephew who is only 15, but a fantastic salesman. He is the Del Boy of India!

Sorry so short, I'm really tired at the moment!

Off to Bangalore tomorrow.

Caroline xx

It's full.

2006-08-17T11:41:00.000+01:00

We were supposed to be in Mysore. But we're not. We're still in Cochin.

The reason? We went to tourist information and they told us there were regular deluxe buses running to Mysore everyday at 5pm, but that they weren't busy so we only need turn up about an hour before. Lydia suggested we go and book in advance, but seeing as the guy said it wasn't going to be a problem I said, "naaa, let's just turn up on the day."

I am now beating myself with several very large birch sticks. I should never have listened to the guy. Not only was the bus full, it was fully booked for the next two days. The guy on the booking desk was the most ANNOYING PERSON I have ever met in my life. And 26 years is a very long time to be on this planet. The conversation ran like this:

Me: We'd like to book tickets for the 5pm bus to Mysore today.
Him: It's full.
Me: Oh, how about tomorrow?
Him: (looks at book full of empty seats) It's full.
Me: If it's full why are there lots of empty seats.
Him: Those are reserved to sell through agencies.
Me: OK, is there a bus to Bangalore?
Him: It's full.
Me: (scathing tone) OK, how about this - instead of telling me how everything is full, why don't you tell me WHEN there are two seats available??
Him: I don't understand.
Me: (bites tongue) When is the next available bus to either Bangalore or Mysore?
Him: Tomorrow.
Me: But I thought you said it was full.
Him: You can go to Bangalore tomorrow.

If I had a gun, I would have shot him.

To cut a long story short - we have managed to score bus tickets to Mysore, and are leaving today. It wasn't a bad thing actually - we came back to Fort Cochin, stayed in a much better hotel, had a lovely dinner (paneer butter masala and prawn curry again at Salt n Pepper!) and went to a bar. Met a local guy in the bar called Nazir, originally from Kashmir but working in Cochin. He was really nice guy, offered to take us out the next day.

So the next day Nazir and his friend met us at our hotel and took us out to see St Francis Church, a Dutch cemetery and a Dutch Museum before finally taking us back to visit his shop. We now haggle with the best of them - I have a lovely silver moonstone ring (400Rs), and Lydia has a beautiful throw made out of old jewellery and textiles which she got down to nearly half the original price! Nazir arranged for us to have dinner at his shop, and tea spiced with cinnamon, cardamom, saffron and green leaf. Yum!

He has invited us to come and visit him in Kashmir next year - although obviously that depends on what the FCO has to say about the area! There's a war going on there at the moment, although Nazir says that the media highly exaggerate the situation. However, I think I'll wait till the FCO give us the go-ahead!

Uhm, what else? The weather is finally good - we have sunshine!! I really hope it stays that way and that we'll have sunshine in Goa. Went to see the Chinese fishing nets today - Lydia has some great photographs.

Heigh-ho, heigh-ho, off to Mysore we go!

Caroline xx

Mad dogs and Englishwomen go out in the pouring rain...

2006-08-16T09:22:00.000+01:00

The Sri Lakan word for "crazy" is pisu.

And according to Rathna - Joan, Lydia and I are all pisu. Explanation to follow!

Didn't do much yesterday - 4 hours on the internet looking for work! When we were finished it was time to meet Joan and Rathna for dinner. We went to this place called the Salt and Pepper, basically a restaurant underneath a canopy with cheap plastic chairs and beery teapots. It was seriously cheap, and seriously good. Lydia had a divine prawn curry, and I had the best paneer butter masala on the face of earth with rice and garlic naan. Recommended!

We had quite a few beery teapots (which I am really growing to love), so obviously several teapots later - quite a full bladder. Unfortunately at this particular restaurant their toilet was, "that tree over there," so Joan, Lydia and I headed off into the night, our mission being to find a clean Western toilet. No mean feat in this country I tell you.

It was absolutely chucking down with rain, a real monsoon - so the three of us - umbrellas at the ready headed out. Oh I didn't tell you, did I? I bought an umbrella - a lovely purple and silver jobbie. Only Rs180. Anyway - we strolled out into the pouring rain when all of a sudden the need to do a Singing In The Rain struck us. Life would not be complete if we didn't do a tap dance in a ginormous puddle. You get the picture. Three mad Englishwomen all dancing around, skipping, spinning our umbrellas, our clothes drenched. Pisu.

Joan and Rathna are off to Ooty today - we're really going to miss their company, they're the most lovely couple ever. Lydia reckons that Joan reminds her of her mum, she reminds me of my Auntie Paul. Joan said that a lot of people are always telling her that she reminds them of someone. To which I replied, "yeah, but it's a big compliment if it's someone they really love."

Lydia and I have a 10 hour bus ride ahead of us to Mysore. They say it's a deluxe bus - we all know what that means. I'm not sitting by the window this time!

Oh, my run of bad luck has ended (touch wood), and Lydia's has just started. In Varkala when walking down a path she accidently stubbed her big toe on a step. It was quite painful, but she thought it would be OK. The past three days she has been regularly ramming her foot into steps/tables/beds/other random objects. Not really sure how or why. I think she likes the pain. Her toenail is now bleeding and she suspects its going to fall off before Goa. Lovely!

Right I'll be off now - wasn't really supposed to be on the internet - but it's coming down with rain again so sightseeing off the itinerary for today. Oh well. There's always next year!

Caroline xx

Wanted: One Blue and White Raincoat

2006-08-15T13:33:00.000+01:00

I know I said I'd blog from Kollam - I really was going to. Except we didn't go there!

Confused? Don't be!

Last time I wrote a proper blog post, we were in Madurai. Now Madurai is quite nice as far as big cities go. The temples there are positively decadent, the detail would drive an architect mad. We have some gorgeous photos of the temples - our hotel had a view overlooking it so we could see it at different times of the day in different light! Lydia should be burning a CD sometime soon I think. I make no promises.

It was really funny at the temple, they're free to go in - but at one part you have to pay a small donation to take photographs. There was no sign on the wall, nor information around informing us of this. So we just toddled on, exclaiming at how beautiful everything was - when one man approached us. Now it was blatantly obvious that we were deaf - I mean, we were signing to each other, neither of us were using our voices. How much more do you need? The old guy comes up to us and starts talking about something or other. Lydia and I gesture that we're deaf and that we can't hear. He starts getting angry and yelling at us and gesturing at us to come with him. Obviously if some strange guy is yelling at you for no reason then the last thing you're going to do is meekly follow him to wherever it is he was indicating. Things were starting to go from bad to disasterous - with a crowd forming around us when two younger guides arrived and explained to the man that we were deaf (something we'd been trying to tell him for five minutes), and then took us to the desk to pay for our camera. Mortifying!

Anyway, that was pretty much Madurai. We decided to get a late train onwards and downwards as we're not really keen on the big cities, so caught a 2am train to Kanyakumari, which is the arse end of India. Kanyakumari is very touristy - both Indian and Western - the selling point is that it is flanked by three different seas and in April you can see both the sunrise and the moon on the horizon at the same time. It's supposed to be absolutely stunning. But it isn't April.

We did catch sunrise in Kanyakumari (although we *almost* missed it, we are not morning people - especially after a couple of beers). Beautiful.

One night in Kanyakumari was enough for us - really not our cup of tea. So onwards it was to Varkala - which despite being off-season was FANTASTIC! A lot of places were closed for refurbishment but there were enough hotels, bars and restaurants open to warrant a two night stay.

We stayed somewhere called the Bamboo Village, in a tiny bamboo hut. Just round the corner was a place called the Funky Art Cafe - a huge restaurant-bar right on a clifftop. Hammocks and comfortable chairs all round, and the best prawn biryani EVAH. Two Kingfishers later we were soon in the right frame of mind, and befriended two local boys - Sabu and Richie. We're both quite suspicious of men in general - you have to be when travelling - so we were initially a bit apprehensive. But they were absolutely lovely. Sabu took us to a Government shop where we bought a huge bottle of rum, which we smuggled into the bar. We then drank rum and coke all night, and talked.

We found out that Joan (from the Poonjeri project - we met her in Mamallapuram) was in Varkala with her boyfriend, Rathna. Such a small world! So arranged to meet for dinner in the evening at the Dolphin Bay Restaurant. Spent the day checking out a local town, Attingal, with Sabu and Richie. Not recommended, nothing really interesting there - should have stayed in Varkala really, but they were really eager to show us around!

Dophin Bay Restaurant was great - if you're in the area - go there! They have sausages! And bacon (although they didn't have any when we were there).

Lydia and I did the most stupid thing when we left Varkala. What happened was Richie was quite taken with my bandana and my rather funky (if I say so myself) blue and white polka dotted raincoat. He decided to pinch them for the evening, which was fine with me - although I did retrieve my bandana at some point. Anyway, the next morning we went to say goodbye to Sabu and Richie with the intention of retrieving my raincoat. Somehow we forgot. Even though he was wearing it when we said goodbye to him. Even though he was wearing it when we shook his hand. Even though he was wearing it when we turned back and waved to him. We forgot it. Idiots! So I am not sans raincoat - and it is royally coming down!

We are now in Cochin, on the West Coast of India. Cochin is famous for it's traditional dances and the huge fishing nets (which take 5 to 6 men to operate!). It's very beautiful here - the architecture is quite Dutch/Portuguese. Everywhere in India is aesthetically so different - and this is all part of the fun!

The change in plan was because Joan was heading on to Allepey, which is where we were headed. They were going by car - and offered us a lift, which we gratefully accepted. There are only so many trains and buses you can take! We were going to hire a boat and sail the backwaters overnight, but no boats available and we couldn't wait around. So that's something for next year. So instead all of us headed on to Cochin, and are staying in the Fort Cochin area. Dinner last night with Joan and Rathna in their hotel (which they wouldn't let us pay for), which was fantastic. We then crashed and burned (we'd only had 3 hours sleep - shattered - but Varkala is that kind of place, a place where you stay up late drinking rum and coke!) and slept for 12 hours! Oops!

We're off to explore in a bit - spent most of today on the internet! Just under three more weeks till I'm back, and I need a job! If there are any media people reading this and you need a fantastic AP who makes great tea and mediocre coffee - get in touch!

Tomorrow we're off to Mysore, then on to Bangalore.

Sorry this is so boring... I also can't be bothered to spellcheck - so please, no emails JR!

Caroline xx

Smoke Signals

2006-08-11T10:01:00.000+01:00

We are in Kanniyakumari, a cheesy Indian-style seaside resort; think a tackier version of Blackpool without the porn.

No Pleasure Beach - but there is a water park called Bay Watch (?!) and a Wax Museum which claims to rival Londons Madame Tussards. No. It's not on our itinerary.

There is one computer in town.

It has a 56k modem.

I refuse to work under these conditions.

See you in Kollam.

Caroline xx

If I ever see that man again I will flick several cockroaches at him...

2006-08-10T08:05:00.000+01:00

After a 30K moped ride down winding country roads through Tamil Nadu, a rather excellent cup of coffee in a local village, a bread-and-fishies moment with 14 young Tamil gypsies (only 350 rupees to feed them, bet Jesus didn't have to pay), one power shortage ("power cut! power cut! *winds generator*), numerous photographs and two gorgeous white and pink flower garlands, a teary-eyed 45 minute taxi ride through a monsoon, a night trapped in third class and an argument with an Indian man who:

a) pinched our beds and didn't want to give them back
b) woke up his wife and kid and forced them to move so we could have a bunk
c) tried to pinch my bag
d) turned on the lights in the compartment at 4am this morning

...we are now in Madurai.

Now Lydia and I don't like the big towns, so we're only staying here for the day - we've managed to score train tickets down to Kanniyakumari which is the southernmost point of India. Madurai is actually quite cool, they have some fantastic temples here - really elaborate. Pictures a-coming, people - but the beach is where we wanna be.

So at 2am tonight we depart Madurai, again 3rd class, and arrive Kanniyakumari around 6am.

Sunrise on the beach, eating coconut and sipping milk tea... I may never come home again.

That's the boring stuff out of the way.

If you're on our mailing list, I'm sure you know that my evil cow of a travelling companion, Lydia, sent on the most hideous photo of me ever. Now I will get her back. You just wait. However, fate decided to take the upper hand...

What happened was we had a few hours to kill and wanted to rent a moped. We didn't want to pay an outrageous sum of money, so spoke to Jothi, one of the hotel managers - his dad agreed to let Lydia and I borrow a moped for free (we only paid for petrol); which was fantastic of them - especially so as Jothi's dad doesn't do stuff like this. He doesn't even smile at people.

So we went for a long ride with Pip and Toni (another volunteer) - everything was going smoothly, when suddenly, disaster struck. About 100m from our hotel the back tyre on the moped burst. Lydia was mortified - she was determined to get it back in pristine condition with a full tank of petrol. Head hung low in shame, she wheeled it back to the hotel and 'fessed up to one of the staff.

It was taken away to be fixed - and Jothi was cool with it, refusing to accept money for the repairs. He's a good, good guy - they all are.

Lydia nearly died though - she was terrified that Jothi was going to kill her! That just goes to show, you don't email out horrible photos of your friends!!

Mwahahahahaha!

Caroline xx

More secrets of India....

2006-08-10T07:45:00.000+01:00

If auto-rickshaw charge you more for the fare - just act like you don't have much money on you - just looking for coins in your pockets and take your time till the driver gave up and accept if it is short money! The driver was going to charge us Rs 30 (still cheap!) but we didn't have any small changes on us - we had to take all the coins out of our pockets - it was only Rs 25, so the driver accepted! Try to do that! :) am we cheeky girls?

Lyds xx

So long, farewell, auf wiedersehn, good night...

2006-08-09T08:18:00.000+01:00

We leave Mamallapuram today. We've been here a week. We never expected to stay this long, but it's the kind of place that just reels you in.

To give an example of just how welcome we feel here - the other day when we hired a moped, Lydia and I were riding through the town; there were people that we had befriended waving at us from each street corner. Various Tamil gypsies, one of the local stone-carvers, the jeweller, volunteers - it was almost as if we'd been living here for years. We felt so welcome, so wanted. It's going to be so hard to leave tonight.

Additionally, after a week in the hotel they've become really lax about us paying for food and drink. It's perfectly acceptable for us to go to the fridge and help ourselves to a bottle of water or Sprite. We have to keep track of everything we eat and drink, otherwise they forget!

Tonight we get a bus to some random place (can't for the life of me recall the name), and then an overnight train to Madurai. We're travelling 3AC (third class - eeek!), so we'll be mingling with the masses. I hope they don't smell.

We've spent most of this week swimming - I think Lydia is developing gills. We've been to the beach only once! To be fair, the beach is not ideal for swimming or sunbathing unless you fancy the idea of a group of Indian men leching at you. And we don't.

Other news headlines, I wasn't ill, I had sunstroke (and I'm very well now, thank you). Valeska left today for Pondicherry - we'll miss her! Oh, and we might hire a moped again today seeing as we didn't kill ourselves or anyone else last time. We've additionally been spreading the wealth of UNO to the nation - teaching Bosnia-guy and two French guys last night. It's quite difficult to concentrate when so many people don't really know what they're doing. And Bosnia guy kept giggling all the way through. I haven't the faintest idea why. I think he found the pretty pictures funny.

We're currently working out a new travel itinerary - we've been here so long that we're going to have to drop a couple of places. But that's OK, we're both talking about coming back next year. We have just under 4 weeks - and our current destination list is Madurai, Kantakumari, Kollam, Kochi, Periyar Wildlife Sanctuary, Mysore, Bangalore, Mangalore, Gokarna, Goa and Mumbai. It's going to be so hard working out what to drop. :o(

And looks like we're going to have to head back up to Delhi on either the 3rd or the 4th. Ugh. Both STA and Jet Airlines want to charge us 200 quid each and our mothers souls in order to transfer flights. We don't want to pay 200 pounds (although our mothers are expendable), so looks like we're going to have to fly to Delhi. I really don't want to get the train up as I don't want my last memory of India to be a dingy carriage. Ah well. Never mind.

Enough already, it's time for lunch.

Caroline xx