Christmas Capers

My christmas day began at an eye-watering 4am. This wasn't because I was too excited about my presents, because I didn't get any. Even if I had been a good boy and been sent a big stocking through the post, it apparently '80%' wouldn't have reached me because some genius at India Post decided to only employ thieves as postmen. Nope, whilst the whole of England was still in the pub at 10.30pm, I was woken up to go to a special super-early-5am morning service at the local protestant church. God, if you're listening, I think that makes me exempt from attending mass for a year. Ok? Cheers. Much to my surprise, it was a full house and everyone had come dressed to impress. The service lasted 2 hours and it was in Tamil but even I could tell that the guy was chewing over old fat when it came to the sermon. Communion (first meal of the day) lasted a record-breaking 30 minutes; so long, in fact, that they ran out of hymns for the second half of it.

We then went for breakfast at the house of a couple of people who I think were relatives because they were known only as 'Uncle' and 'Aunty'. Although i'm called 'uncle' at school by all the children so, as a culture, they play pretty fast and loose with the terms. Breakfast was a bottomless plate of Idly (round thing which feels and tastes like compressed rice), Dosai (flat savoury pancake), Vadai (Savoury, very dry donut-type snack) and various spicy accompaniments. Over breakfast, we enjoyed a lovely carol service on The God Channel which was apparently being broadcast 'live' (I reckon about 2001 is more realistic) from Birmingham. This almost made me feel homesick but then again, I don't live in Birmingham and I thank God for that everyday. (controversial).

After a three hour nap, I was woken up for a Christmas lunch of Goat Biryani, Onion Raitha and a Banana for Sweet served on a Banana Leaf. I wasn't very hungry after breakfast but I managed two portions because of the not-so-gentle persuasion of the women of the house. Before I sound ungrateful, the food was lovely and probably nicer than turkey. However, there is a balance to be struck whilst in this country between being polite and turning yourself into a tub of lard. This Christmas weekend, I found it particularly difficult. The food just keeps on coming. I haven't cried over having too much food since Mrs Keegan the dinner-lady (also Dermot Murnaghan's mother-in-law but i'm not the sort to name-drop obviously) forced me to finish my spaghetti bolognese on my 7th birthday, but I wasn't far off on this occasion.

Soon after lunch, Joel took me on a borrowed bike to a city named Kodaikanal in the mountains. The drive was 3 hours and I learnt the following things during the climb:

1. Sitting on a motorbike for lengthy periods of time is a real pain in the arse.
2. If you're bored of the open road, try and find a reflective surface. In my case, it was the back of Joel's motorbike helmet, where I played a three hour long game of 'What would my hair look like in a ponytail?'.
3. India can be cold, embarrassingly cold if you've been giving it the big 'un about being British and not needing to wear a jumper until it gets way below 10 degrees.

After the long journey, we stayed in some sort of of Methodist lodgings and had my first hot shower in two months. Thankyou Methodists, i won't ignore you in the streets from now on.

Kodaikanal was an excellent place to visit but uneventful and all that struck me is that it was bizarrely like a town in the Swiss Alps. Of course, i'm not sure if i've ever been to the Swiss Alps, but you get the picture.