*in less than 1800 words given the infrequency of my posting.

It’s no wonder readership of this page has dropped off a cliff. Not only was my last dispatch two weeks and another country ago, but the last one- titled ‘Eve of Destruction in Paradise’- was decidedly morbid in it’s opening and overall tone.

Whilst I may have hopped countries, and been through seven different places in that time, the White House continues to descend further into its ‘Death of Stalin’ period with courtiers left and right pretending that the US Commander-in-Chief isn’t completely off his rocker, batshit fucking crazy. Crocked. The man is totally fucking crocked. Either that or nobody has noticed that the best way of explaining these on again/off again deadline threats are blatant market manipulation. Or they have noticed and don’t care.

Or a combination of all of the above.

Either way, I continue to travel and write whilst Gaza, Lebanon, and Iran face death and destruction from the skies courtesy of Hegseth, Trump, and Netanyahu.

Happy belated Easter. The Christ the first two cite does not resemble the one whose teachings I try, and oft fail, to follow.

[Insert ‘Bangalore’ pun riffing on ‘Band on the Run’ by Wings]

So… in to India.

And what a place. What a bonkers, inconceivably big, place.

Upon arriving into Bangalore I must confess to being a little disappointed that the roads were not nearly as hectic as I had been led to believe they would be, that the chaos is far more contained and constrained than I had anticipated, that the sound of traffic was nothing but a low hum compared to that of the streets of Ho Chi Minh City.

Over the past fortnight this assumption has been proven wrong but truth told Bangalore is an odd place. A growing ‘tech hub’, it felt very sedate and dare I say synthetic compared to what I was expecting of India, and what I have experienced since leaving there.

Still- a cracking place to start the Indian adventure. A terrific bookshop visit on the first day saw me refilling the lower compartment of my bag- having done so well to read and get shot of books over the last four months I am back to lugging around a mini-library. Oh well.

The gardens and park were expansive and housed the State library which was well used and well maintained. The park also featured a rather angry chap with a stick who acted as the morality police, hauling down kids climbing trees and separating young couples sat together too intimately. I thought it was very funny. The same job was in existence at the botanic gardens where OH had her first of what were to be many requests for a selfie. This first lad was very polite, and had clearly been given a confidence boost to ask by his mates- and a round of sympathetic pats on the back when he was refused. He wasn’t interested in one with me. His loss.

The trip to Bangalore ‘palace’  was gloriously shite. It is still lived in by some of the family so you get charged a relatively large amount as a foreigner to trapse round the unkempt side of the house with some random shit the family don’t want to live amongst. Imagine the Fulfords but in India.

I bought some new walking shoes replacing the pair that have seen me through the trip so far.

She got the way to move me, Cochin, She got the way to groove me, Cochin baby

Cochin was stunningly beautiful and had some truly gorgeous churches and other religious sites and was a bit closer to the India I had been expecting. There’s also an election going on which always makes things more interesting- especially when it is one leftist coalition pitted against another. A candidate campaigning for the Congress party asked for a photo with him and didn’t seem deterred when I told him that if eligible to vote, I was more likely to vote for the communist led governing coalition.

Friends and former colleagues… well Young Harold… will be chuffed to know imprints were present on all literature that I saw.

I haven’t mentioned it thus far and fear it would be overkill to mention it under each sub-heading but the food has been terrific and lip-smacking throughout India thus far and Cochin was certainly no exception.

We visited the synagogue, one of the oldest in this part of the World. Its close proximity to other religious sites was a reassuring sign that not every on the planet, and not everywhere in Modi’s India, has given into base sectarianism.

We also went for a sunset kayak. Beautiful and incredibly peaceful.

Munnar-i-tea Report

Munnar is famous for it’s tea. ‘Minority Report’ is a 2002 Steven Spielberg film starring Tom Cruise. God it’s good stuff on this blog innit?

It is a long old slog from Cochin to Madurai so we figured a stop at the roughly halfway point in the tea fields of Munnar. It was beautiful. Had told the folks watching the bags to expect us back after about a 3 or 4 hour hike. Already roasting at 8:30am, we managed about an hour. Or so.

Madurai-s mate, I know the drive was hard to take but at least you made it

An awful, awful drive from Munnar to Madurai was somewhat improved by the absolutely stunning views from the top of the mountain range. Less pleasant was the winding roads up and then back down.

The main attraction at Madurai is Meenakshi Temple, also known as Meenakshi Sundareswarar Temple, and it is absolutely stunning. Like a Bob Dylan gig, you have to hand your phone over on entry – an approach I wholeheartedly endorse- so there aren’t any pictures of that. Have a photo of me outside instead. Oh and one of me working out in the building gym which was without air con instead.

We also went to the Gandhi museum which, undergoing extensive renovation, wasn’t terrific but they had a lovely little bookshop where I picked up a mass production copy and slim copy of some of Ghandi’s writings. The exhibition itself was a pacy romp through the independence movement and when the room was inundated with a school group, I made sure to keep my mouth shut and my accent in check.

Come, Mr. DJ, song Pondicherry

“Pon de Replay ” is the debut single Rihanna and can be found on her debut album, ‘Music of the Sun’. It’s a stretch that one.

The trains from Madurai to Pondicherry were great and I’ve now ridden the rails in each of the countries I’ve visited on this journey (bar Cambodia. Bugger.)

Election fever has also gripped Pondicherry where, unfortunately, the BJP had more of a presence. More terrific food, the sea front, and statues of Gandhi were a lovely reprieve. Beautiful place.

Hit for six at the Chennai-PL

The last leg of OH’s jaunt across three countries with me (four for her given her sojourn to Singapore which I ducked on account of it being a turbo-capitalist Hell hole (thanks to Simon and Sophie for the kind hospitality offered. Maybe next time)) took place in Chennai.

 Historically, a hugely significant place with Madras being the staging post for the East India Company’s, and subsequently the British state’s, spread across India. The old fort was a fascinating place, and the church particularly beautiful and interesting. St Mary’s Church is the oldest building in Fort St George and is through to be the oldest Protestant church in Asia. The altarpiece is a stunning oil painting of the Last Supper and is said to have been painted by a pupil of Raphael- with the Blue Book guide to India claiming that ‘the chalice is often said to have been painted by Raphael himself.’

Continuing the Last Supper theme, we honoured Good Friday by going to my first ever IPL match. Long time friends and well-wishers will know my views on the t20 format of the game, and now so do a number of Indian fans of the Chennai Super Kings. Like those at home, they don’t give a shit either. Before the match we got into a prolonged and boozy conversation with some lads supporting the visiting side where we covered everything from cricket, to race in India, Caste politics, religion, the role of women in Indian society, and the BJP.

Despite, nay because of this, we had a fantastic evening. CSK lost their second match of the season and have gone on to lose their third. The Bowater kiss of death continues apace. I’ve never experienced an atmosphere like it at a cricket match, if anywhere. It was a near continuous wall of noise and the atmosphere was intense in the heat- when we made our way out of the stadium at 11:30pm it was still in the mid-30s.

Goa Johnnie, Goa!

I now find myself unaccompanied and without much of a plan in Southern Goa. In the short time I’ve been here I’ve broken a washing machine, gotten drunk and lost without a phone, and booked a ticket to a football match an hour plus drive away. So that’s good.

Goa is absolutely stunning. It is getting quieter with each passing day as we head towards the low season but the locals have proven to be very friendly. As mentioned, I got rather drunk with some chaps watching CSK lose in the IPL whilst huddled round a laptop, and I’ve managed to build up something of a rapport with the folks who work the beach front.

I think I’ll be alright… [Applications remain open to join me on any leg of this journey. Write me direct.]

Other bits…

Fuck me is it hot. And it is getting hotter. Does not bode well for Mumbai and Delhi in the coming weeks.

This past fortnight, I’ve been reading:

• Ravikant Kisan’s ‘Meet the Savarnas‘- a book whose politics I sympathise with and broadly agree but written in a way that is so clearly attention grabbing, and sweeping in it’s claims with minimal data, to be very irritating.

• Amrit Raj’s ‘Indian Icon: A Cult Called Royal Enfield’- interesting in parts but really didn’t need to be a book. A New Yorker length article/wikipedia entry would have sufficed.

• Rahul Bhatia’s ‘The Identity Project’– an explosive look at the politics of the Indian census, legislation around religious identity, and the links between the BJP and the RSS. Awesome read.

• Rahul Bhattacharya’s ‘Railsong‘- really wonderful read very much in keeping with some of the other literature I’ve been reading this trip.

Tomorrow I’m heading up to Old Goa for some more old religious architecture, before heading north again on Friday for Goa FC’s home match against… their opponent.

Let’s Go Goa!