1st Installment

Dear Reader, this installment will proceed towards the events to which many of you will respond with cold indifference, or more likely with disgust. Due to the nature of this trip, it seemed inappropriate to give a dispassionate account of the infinite beauty and variety that India has thus far produced. Instead I shall plot a course through the oddities of Kerala and allow the reader access to the dark catacombs of our sun bent minds.

Chapter 1 - First they come with Bayonets, then they come with backpacks

I could not help but find it amusing how the second colonization of these shores was lead by the overfed narcissistic hordes from Europe armed only with backpacks and wedges of cash. The Indian shopkeeper smiles graciously as the grasping pig white fist is all to eager to ply an Indian palm with what would no doubt be an obscene amount of money in local terms; smiles graciously that is, as he remembers that it was the ancestors of these heathens who drove the might of the British empire across the land, brutalizing the population whilst lining their own coffers. Perhaps it is the guilt of the European hordes which motivates their sanctimonious endeavor to attain 'peace'.

Varkala, the 2nd stop so far was filled to the rafters with westerners attempting to outdo one another with the fascistic dictates of a holistic spiritual life. Never have i seen so many solemn, pious gaits adorned in tie-dye and white flannel trousers. It was against this background, and with the aid of the local Indian brew that we began military maneuvers under the cover of darkness. New Age philosophies and the like preach the virtues of balance and harmonious being but Varkala was far too hippy-dippy and so we corrected this imbalance by playing armies at night through the palm groves. We have since added a Swedish and Australian militia and have begun urban combat operations in the back streets of Allepey.

Chapter 2 - Jerk 'n Spice

Kolam bus station at first glance seemed no different than any other provincial Indian terminus. A writhing mass of commuters hounded officials as buses departed in no particular order. Amidst the melee two of our party Martin (Swedish) and Craig (Dudley) made their way to the inconspicuous toilet at the far side of the station. To their bemusement the Indian gentleman's toilet etiquette is somewhat different to that of the European gentleman's. First Craig stepped up to the urinal, uncoiling his length. With gusto he issued an amber flow of suitably dehydrated urine into the pot. Some have said that this is a man's greatest pleasure, a pleasure however until micturition is interrupted. Suddenly a nervous rush caused Craig's urethra to snap shut, choking the dynamic flow across the porcelain. To his horror he spied the gentleman in the next urinal gazing at his baby's arm. Although inappropriate it would not be unimaginable for the sub-continental gentleman to catch a glimpse and compare the Dudley rolling pin as it has become known. However on a second inspection of the man in question Craig realized that a more odious game was afoot: Onanism.

The Indian gentleman pounded his meat with complete disregard for the object of his desire, and indeed the other people using the pissoir. Having suitably remonstrated the gentleman for his "lack of manners", Craig returned to the group where a gravely silence fell upon him. By this time even if Craig could have warned Martin of his impending doom, it would have been too late as the Swede was already skipping across the bus station towards the toilets..........