Bamboo MAssage

Not so long ago I always stood up to bullies – it was a lancashire principal instilled in me at a young age – hence me spending most of my chemistry lessons outside mr mansfield’s classroom. Anyhows, two months ago I was a t a festival in East Lothian, stood up to the local steroided up bully of Haddington & got a smack in the puss to show for it. The festy owner decided to press charges on my behalf & I guess I should be in court as a witness at some point in the future – I even got ‘victim of crime’ materuial thro the post. Unfortunatley Im now in India, which throws a bit of a spanner into the British the wheels of justice – I guess they’ll have to wait.

So Im just about to leave Paradise Beach, when I go to check on my bill at Muli’s restaurant. Suddenly my two bottles of rum had tunred into 4, I disputed the fact & suddenly threre was threast of bamboo massages & severed hands being thrown around. At first I stoodfd up to him, saying go on then & do your worst kinda stuff – then remembered mi smack in the puss, the fact he’d probably just killed his wife & it was only 1.50 for god’s sake. So I payed up, which was good really, cos it means I can go back.

So me & charlie left gokarna… he hadnt gone down to well with the hippies & ive been urged to return without him soon – but fate has some strange twits for me & Charlie yet, im sure. We caught a train to south goa for the ridiculous price of 15 rupees, & all of a sudden, one & a half hours later, we were in teh Palolem/patnem area. Charlie immediately lost his phone on arrival, total nightmare for the lad & we’d also lost footage of my argument with Muli. To cheer him up I took him to a certain chemist in Goa where I’d scored some K myself a couple of years back. The same folk still ran it & before you know it charlie was queing for about an hour to buy a metal tin & some candles. The rest of the night’s a bit of a blur, but I did manage to swagger into this wicked beach bar, blag the owner Raj for a saturday night set, play some dodgy disco (which went down very well) & afterwards going racing around in rickshaws with ttwo 23 yeatr old english lasses intersperesed with dips in the sea – they’d jut arrived you see. The rest of the goa-glam set ladies frowned on their straggly hair & lack of make-up, but I just found them cuter.

That was in Palolem, a mile long chain of reastaurants & bars taht at night becomes one multicoulored ribbon of neon light. 4k to teh south is my beloved Patnem, a magic little beach where teh days laze by & seems about 75 percent English. The waters, tho cloudy, are silkily divein, warm & wet 24 hours a day. On the beach theres a herd of about 20 cows. On the back road near the beach theres another hered, haunting teh rubbish dump for snacks. In my head the two heards are the montagues & capulets of Romeo & Juleot, & there are two star crossed lovers in their midst – theres gonna be a bloody goring I tell you that.

This morning I went to sort mi hangover out, met this lass who looked proper rough – liek i felt – invited her for chai & ending up growing ‘close.’ Friendships bloom & blossom in an anstant when ya travellin – especially in a place like Patnem. Anyhows, there’s a good chance she’ll make up the thiurd party on this house Ive discovered her – you can take a three bedroom pad – with kitchen – a wee stroll form teh beach for nine pound a night total – 600 rupeees. When peopel pay about 750 for a simpel beach hut, its a done deal really. So it looks like I’ll be in Goa for a month or so… could be fun


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