My parents flew out to India last week to have a quick look at how their self-professed 'special little boy' has spent the last 5 months. Of course, after staying in a nice hotel for a few days, they think that Chennai is a lovely city filled with Indian charm and character. To some extent it is, but then again, it is also the world's biggest khazi.
It doesn't really matter because the perk of their visit is that I've been whisked off to some wonderful destinations where I would less likely find ants in my towels and more likely find 'Welcome' chocolates on my pillows. This did initially pose a few moral questions as to whether it would be appropriate given all the do-goodery I've been practising recently. Then I told myself to stop being such a bitch and to tuck into my lobster. After all, I never claimed to be Mother Theresa.
This brings me nicely onto a conversation I had yesterday when, whilst watching the hotel's communal TV, a Frenchman actually did suggest that I was only here to be like the old bird from Calcutta and that I was searching for spiritual cleansing. I took a great deal of pleasure in pointing out to him that I'm only here to add to my glaringly empty CV, that I never do anything for anyone else and that it would be rather nice of him if he could just 'hop along'.
The last bit never happened. In fact, I surrendered the remote control to him and left quietly but with little dignity after pulling a 'push' door. Every bloody time.
We're currently in God's Own Country, or Kerala to everyone who doesn't work for the Keralan tourist board. The hotel is called Coconut Lagoon and it feels a bit like I've gatecrashed a honeymoon but it is an undeniably alright part of the world. We had a high-octane elephant ride yesterday which was very entertaining except for the third-degree burns I managed to obtain in a misguided attempt to 'stand on my own two feet'.
Mum: "Put some suncream on Andrew"
Andrew: "Nah, you're alright. I'M FINE. I'M AN ADULT NOW."
M: "But I can see your skin burning, it'll really hurt later."
A: "STOP TELLING ME WHAT TO DO."
Lots of egg on my face as well as some agonising burns which, naturally, formed around the wifebeater vest I had boldly chosen to wear for the day. British.
It doesn't really matter because the perk of their visit is that I've been whisked off to some wonderful destinations where I would less likely find ants in my towels and more likely find 'Welcome' chocolates on my pillows. This did initially pose a few moral questions as to whether it would be appropriate given all the do-goodery I've been practising recently. Then I told myself to stop being such a bitch and to tuck into my lobster. After all, I never claimed to be Mother Theresa.
This brings me nicely onto a conversation I had yesterday when, whilst watching the hotel's communal TV, a Frenchman actually did suggest that I was only here to be like the old bird from Calcutta and that I was searching for spiritual cleansing. I took a great deal of pleasure in pointing out to him that I'm only here to add to my glaringly empty CV, that I never do anything for anyone else and that it would be rather nice of him if he could just 'hop along'.
The last bit never happened. In fact, I surrendered the remote control to him and left quietly but with little dignity after pulling a 'push' door. Every bloody time.
We're currently in God's Own Country, or Kerala to everyone who doesn't work for the Keralan tourist board. The hotel is called Coconut Lagoon and it feels a bit like I've gatecrashed a honeymoon but it is an undeniably alright part of the world. We had a high-octane elephant ride yesterday which was very entertaining except for the third-degree burns I managed to obtain in a misguided attempt to 'stand on my own two feet'.
Mum: "Put some suncream on Andrew"
Andrew: "Nah, you're alright. I'M FINE. I'M AN ADULT NOW."
M: "But I can see your skin burning, it'll really hurt later."
A: "STOP TELLING ME WHAT TO DO."
Lots of egg on my face as well as some agonising burns which, naturally, formed around the wifebeater vest I had boldly chosen to wear for the day. British.
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