Wednesday 5^th December

Towards the end of last week I was feeling very weary…

And then I happened upon this link on the internet.  It made me so very happy!  I rang Katy, who was also feeling weary, and we looked at the 22 pictures together at our separate desks and laughed until we nearly cried.

22 DIY Fails That Will Make You Laugh Until You Cry

In case you can’t open it and share the joy, it lists 22 DIY projects, with a photo of the finished product as it should be, followed by a triumphant photo posted by a poor do-it-yourselfer, captioned each time, I NAILED IT!!!  There are photos of failed magical, glamorous cakes, failed craft projects, failed home decorations.  All of them a delight to behold.  I spoke to Nick about them after I had sent her the link and she later texted me the following:

Oh yes! I made Angus a rainbow birthday cake involved sprinkling rows of dyed sugar to form the rainbow colours.  They all mixed together and turned khaki!  Wish I had a picture to say "nailed it!"

Last Saturday Pete and I had a dinner party for ten.  I did what I always advise people NOT to do…I made a recipe hitherto unfamiliar to me… It should have been a thing of beauty, my summer pudding.  It SHOULD have been a purple delight, perfectly formed in a large, glowing dome shape.  Instead…it came out with a splat, landed on the plate and looked alarmingly like… Well, Nicky saw the photo and said, “Mum it looks just like a placenta!  But I’m sure it was delicious!”  With a bit of help from my friends it was all very swiftly plated up so very few of our guests saw it in all its unappetising glory, sprawled across a large white plate.  And yes!  It was indeed delicious… (Thank God!!)

India #36

On one of our days in Goa, we decided to take a bus tour.  We could either do South or North; both seemed equally appealing, although one of them ended with a one-hour boat trip up a river.  We chose the other one, which was fortunate, really, because it was raining so heavily that the other busload never did get on the boat.  Also their bus was crammed to the gills, while ours only had eight people, all very relaxing.

Goa is all very green and lush.  We wound round backroads until we were completely disoriented and couldn’t have said which way was north or south at all.  Our first stop was at an old Portuguese house, from the 1500s.  This was actually just lovely.  Not overdone at all, quite bare, with a few artefacts and bits of furniture to give some idea of what life was like in a big patriarchal colonial house.  Our guide here was a retired teacher, full of jokes and fun, very informative.  He showed us the kitchen, with a huge mortar and pestle, and said that this is how food should be prepared.  Nowadays, apparently, young Indian housewives are too busy and they prepare dinner with maggicubes.  This went right over our heads and we basically ignored what we took to be a male chauvinist comment worthy of disregard.  Maggicubes in India??  Where the food is all so beautifully cooked, with freshly ground spices?  But later on I started noticing, on billboards, advertisements for Modern Life.  Young women were shown, laughingly preparing quick meals, with…Maggicubes for Aromatic Flavour!!

Across the road from the beautiful house was…Ancient Goa.  Oh goody…just the sort of thing we really hate.  Our entry fee for the house included Ancient Goa, and it was pouring with rain so there was no possibility of sitting, or strolling, through the little village we were in.  So, off through Ancient Goa, with different guides speaking from a strictly-prepared script every 100 metres or so.  It was a sort of primitive Big Foot Disney World, with un-animated displays, roughly sculpted, to show life in ancient Goa.  This is what it says in the brochure, on Google:

“Ancestral Goa is miniature Goan Village as it would have existed 100 years ago.  It is located on a nine acre verdant hillock at Loutulim in South Goa, about ten kilometers from Margao.  Graceful swans charm the entrance to the reception.  Elephants carrying flowered pillars with multi-hued and decorated beams deck the entryway.”  

This is hyperbole…it really wasn’t very good.  And yes, Big Foot!  There is some legend about a hero in the distant past who did something and left a giant footprint, couldn’t quite follow it… (Yes you are right; sometimes there was FAR too much information about this and that and I just went lalala in my head…)

Mary and I were fascinated on our bus tour – there were SO many puppies, everywhere!  Curled up on monuments and under trees and near temples, scampering or just lying with their mothers.  I don’t think anything in India ever gets de-sexed, as I think I have said before…

The tour included some Hindu temples, and the Casket of Saint Francis Xavier in the Basilica of Bom Jésus, where the remains of this saint are famous for, and I quote, having resisted extensive decay.  Apparently nobody is quite sure why this should be.  I’m ashamed to say I have fairly minimal interest in gruesome remains.  I do have a friend who loves such things, and who was amazed and delighted to see pressed nuns in some old English church when she was overseas a few years ago.  I can understand why this is interesting, but I DON’T want to look at these things….

         

When we were at the Hindu temple, a priest-ish person, dressed in a sort of loincloth, came and grabbed Pete and me.  He took us, willy-nilly, out the back of the temple where he showed us a very dusty chariot in a shed.  It is taken out (clean and shiny I hope) at festival parade times to celebrate Siva.  He said, “You can take a photo now,” which I dutifully did, although why would I want a photo of a dim dark wooden chariot covered with cobwebs?  He then asked us for Australian dollars if we didn’t have any US ones, then for 100 rupees, then, plaintively, for some sweeties.  We gave him 20 rupees and sent him on his way, disconsolate. 

         

Next stop was the Dona Paula lookout, in Panaji, the capital of Goa.  We clambered up to admire the view, and Pete and I were accosted by three bright and chatty teenage girls who asked us where we came from – “your country?  Australia, oh good!” and then asked, very politely, if they could take photos of us.  We said yes, ofcourse, but why?  What are they going to do; put us in their albums, labelled Australians at Dona Paula Lookout?  Or is it for a school project – see how many foreigners you can talk to and stick in a scrap book during your mid-semester break?

         

We had half an hour on Miramar Beach, in Panaji.  This is a very wide beach with a lovely green park edging it.  But…not a good place to swim!  The rip looked absolutely lethal!  Pete got talking to a smart young bloke from Mumbai, who, after discussing – ofcourse - the cricket, produced from his pockets some little containers with necklaces he had made.  He apparently spends six months making them and then six months on the beach in Goa selling them.  “Oh lovely,” said Pete brightly, “I think I have some customers for you!  Mary!  Marguerite!  Over here!”  So, ofcourse, Mary and I did not break this bloke’s heart, we did make him happy… We paid 100 rupees each, and he went off very chuffed.  Yes I know this is not a lot of money, only about $3, but the thing is, Indian people would only pay 50 rupees, or maybe even less.  Sometimes Indian women on the beach would say to me, “How much did you pay for that sarong?”  When I would reply 100 rupees, they would snigger happily, and say, Well we wouldn’t pay more than 35 for it!  You were ripped off!  Never mind; Mary and I made LOTS of people very happy, in Goa!

         

The bus driver led his little flock to a small hotel in the centre of Panaji and told us that was where we were having lunch.  We did as we were told; that is what you do on bus tours,..  But it wasn’t a mistake at all, it was just wonderful, with great service and the most delicious food.  I think our lunch for four came to $6!  Pete and I came out very happy and decided, uncharacteristically, to have a chocolate coated icecream while we waited for the other members of our party to get back on the bus.  We carefully put our wrappers in a bin, then sat on the bus – it was cooler and drier there – to eat them.  When we had finished, Pete took our little wooden sticks out to the bin too.  Sitting in front of us was a beautiful young Indian couple on their honeymoon.  They were just gorgeous, literally, attired in matching outfits.  She wore a pink and aqua embroidered chiffon tunic and trousers, while he wore white trousers and an aqua shirt.  They were very young and shy and didn’t seem to know each other very well, but they were extremely clean and pretty.  We were very amused to see that while we were meticulously putting our every scrap in the bin, they just chucked their wrappings out the window, right in front of everyone.  Bin?  What bin??

         

The bus tour, by the way, which took us from our accommodation, and went from 9.30-5.30 cost us only about $4 each!  We did have to pay entry fees at Big Foot Ancient Goa, and tips to unwanted guides at Hindu temples, but it was very good value!