Thursday 1^st November

Another Nightmare Job, this time entirely of the worker’s own choosing…

On Thursday at the Show we were idly gazing at some somnolent cows, with our little ones around us, when a rather unattractive woman of indeterminate age came up to us.  I didn’t pay much attention – looking at cows is very fascinating – but I saw her hand something to one of my tall, slim daughters, who stiffened, took the card, and turned away.  What was all that about?  This Hag From Hell had handed out a business card which said, “Do you want to loose weight?  I can help!”  I wanted to write to her and say, “Do you want to learn how to spell?  I can help!” but I am too polite.  WHAT was she thinking?  Is she ever well-received??  Why, thank you, yes, I have been feeling a bit of a fattyboomba lately; show me the way to look just like you!  I don’t think so! 

India #7

The drummerboys around the café greeted us with much joy – surely we ALL needed to buy a set of large bongoes, to squeeze into our packs?  No?  Why NOT??  They were charming boys, and we were quite happy to chat and maybe even hand over some rupees but NO we did not buy drums!

People in the Colaba area of Mumbai sell all sorts of things on the streets.  The most noticeable items were the giant balloons.  Horrible great big pear-shaped ones, without even helium inside to make them floaty and interesting.  They changed colour over the days; we arrived on ORANGE balloon day and everywhere we went, there would be a man with a giant balloon, looking quite perplexed – but WHY didn’t we want a packet of ten??  We often talked to the would-be sellers; they were nice blokes, after all, just trying to make a rupee or two.  We tried to find out who would buy such hideous things.  Surely no tourists would want them, and they are far too big for children – I should think a child would be quite intimidated by such a cumbersome and lurid shape.  But there were the cheery and hopeful sellers, every day, having seemingly collaborated – let’s try YELLOW today, that should be a winner!  Yes I KNOW they didn’t like the orange ones, said they would pay us to burst them or take them away, but maybe that was because they were orange!  When we came back to the Mondegar – another story – after nearly five weeks, we were sitting at a window table.  Something caught my eye; a huge orange balloon with a beaming face floating above it – one of the balloon sellers had recognised me (why me???  I had shown even less interest than my friends!) and was lovingly waiting for me to come out and not buy a balloon.  He was perfectly happy when I waved and shook my head vigorously; what was all that about?  (In fact that is one of the wonderful, if exhausting, things about travelling in different countries; one spends such a lot of time saying, “What the….???” and “Why??”, without ever finding the answers.  The balloon thing, for example, is not the sort of thing one can research on Google, or even in Lonely Planet Guide.)