The photos of my holiday in Goa don't get any more interesting. Probably because on our one excursion out, we were too ill and can't-be-arsed to really take any decent photos of the monkeys. Nor did we go right up to the waterfall, or swim in its pool. We passed on the chance to ride an elephant; indeed it kept walking past a few feet away from me and I was too grotty even to get my camera out. Then, with another couple who were heading for Mumbai that night, we commissioned a jeep to speed us back to Calangute, rescuing us from a bumpy ride in coaches without suspension on poor quality roads. The outward journey had made Jimmy very travel sick; I just had really bad constipation that made me feel faint, and come over in alternative hot and cold sweats and excruciating stomach cramps. I was petrified I was poised on the brink of an instant self-cure.
And that jeep journey almost did the trick as we approached a lorry that was overtaking. Each of us heading towards each other at 60 mph; machismo dictating that neither should flinch. At the last moment the lorry pulled in. Later, we overtook on the brow of a hill. Jimmy reckons that the driver should be charged with attempted murder. I think it was what passes as good driving in Goa...
