Goa

After seeing my Dad for 5 minutes after he landed in Mumbai, he was promptly kicked out of the country and sent back to Frankfurt. No Indian Visa.

Ya, so that was an absolute mess, but 4 days later he arrived again, and we booked it out of the city and are now on the famous Goan beaches.

Huge Palm trees, laid back life style, and Hippy Paradise. This all makes for a great travellers paradise too. Some of these hippies must have been here since the 70's and simply never bothered to leave. The 'real world' simply does not exist to these people, and why should it.

We are sleeping in a hut on the beach, cricket is being played on the sand, and outstanding curries are being cooked up under the sun for 100 Rupees. Lots of beer is bring consumed too.

You should come down.

back to the backpack

I will miss my top spot on the ricketiest bunk bed imaginable at the good ol'Salvation Army where I have been living for the past 4.5 weeks. Not much Salvation going on there - hash joints being lit up in the common room, junkies falling asleep with their heads right into their dinner meals, and Indians yelling at the top of their lungs at 5 in the morning. But hey, it was the cheapest place to live.

My Dad is coming out here, and the next 3 weeks promise to be a blast. I haven't seen him in 1.5 years...yikes...but it will be great catching up.

In other news, I've grown some balls and applied for an Iranian Visa. I had to submit a detailed application form along with a passport photo. I hope I won't get rejected because I look to Jewish. Bad joke I know.

Also I've found that Indian guys like to go to the gym and work out with their shirts off. It seems like the hairier the male, the likely they are to take their shirts off. It's a corralting relationship I tell you.

I'm out, and wanting some chala masala.