Tuesday 20^th November

I imagine that everyone is wondering what Pete’s brief NO GLASSES message meant last Friday.  Well, obviously, it meant that his diving mission had been unsuccessful.  It wasn’t that he couldn’t find them; his problem was that he couldn’t get down much below the surface.  He had hired a heavy duty wetsuit and the necessary divan paraphernalia, but the wetsuit was so very thick it provided a great deal of unwanted buoyancy.  So Pete would kick and dive and swim and drag himself downwards holding onto a ladder at the edge of the jetty, but as soon as he let go up he would pop, like a cork.  Very discouraging.  He tried for over an hour and was totally exhausted.  And VERY annoyed.  He is determined to find those glasses…Possibly by the time he has hired equipment and driven up and down to Port Arthur a few times the cost will equal the value of the glasses, but never mind, he is DETERMINED to find them.

I do understand his inability to get down.  I have had a few experiences when diving when I just couldn’t stay below.  When we were diving with Andrew Miedecke’s little floating dive pump thingy I managed to get down very nicely, hauling myself down the anchor chain.  Lovely!  Fishies, here I come!  But as soon as I let go, whoosh, there I was, expelled from the bottom of the sea with no dignity intact. 

India #22

Our little resort in Colmar (Goa)had two restaurants.  One seated about thirty people, and served beer.  The food was all very nice, and not expensive at all, and the waiters were delightful.  The other restaurant was in the shadows of the bigger, glitzier one.  It was a Hare Krishna place, and served only vegetarian food and no beer.   We did eat there, very happily, and even more cheaply, but oh dear, we were always drawn back to the bright lights and the Kingfisher Premium!  Our main restaurant was fine but…they played music VERY loudly.  One day, when we were the only people there, I asked if they always play it this loudly.  “Oh yes!” they said, proudly, as if this was a good thing.  One evening, I said, “Do you have any CDs that old people like us might like?”  We were heartily sick of techno… No problems!  Out came a CD with Total Eclipse of the Heart (circa 1984…); we were very happy!

One of the waiters was particularly nice – and people in Goa generally are bright, charming and pleasant.  The waiters are generally from somewhere else; they come to Goa to earn money to send back to their families in poorer parts of the country.  I’m not sure how they do this; a waiter in Goa earns about 1500 rupees per month, and the cost of living is not all that cheap.  (1500 rupees = about $45…)  I asked him where he lived, and he shuddered faintly.  Apparently there is some sort of hostel for restaurant staff, where they all bunk in together.  He said it is awful, infested with bedbugs, and with swarms of mosquitoes.  “So,” he said happily, “I sleep in the restaurant.”  I didn’t understand what he meant.  The restaurant is open to the elements, just a roof and poles to hold the roof up, with lots of tables and chairs for customers.  But on the day we left Colva, early in the morning, we walked through the restaurant, and there were about a dozen young men curled up on the tables, fast asleep, covered with tablecloths…