After breaking two floorboards of the dance floor on Christmas day we were on a roll. It was time to forget about the fact I was missing family and friends, to forget the pain of the cycle saddle, the suffering in all the countries I have visited – the homeless, the dying, the deformed, the handicapped, the diseased, the repressed, the child labour, the starving, the torturers and the tortured.
I left the bike in Mumbai and with a gang we head to Goa – the Ex Portuguese colony. People flock in thousands at this time of year to enjoy the cheap drinks, the parties, the sand, the blues seas and the coconuts. I had decided I wasn’t going to miss one piece of it.
Clubbing to horrendous techno on New Years Day – jumping around like the monkeys I’d seen in the trees on the way down, making friends, sillyness, makeshift break dancing on the sand, the domestic tourists were getting some well earned entertainment in the shape and form of a Spanish fire fairy, and Papa Noel (my new nickname). I ended the night lying in a fishing boat with a motorcycle helmet on catching some much needed sleep as the sun rose above me.
But this was just the warm up – the big party started when Michael Jackson (reincarnated) came out to visit me on the 4th. Carnage.
The day started with Indian Olympics – what? You don’t know what that is? Track and field with an Indian twist. First event was the 3 legged race, then throw the chapatti (a flat bread), Onion Barge and spoon race (a variety of egg and spoon race), then the elephant riding race. My team won – no thanks to me – I was useless.
After this we had booked a club for our gang to have a bad taste party. You can imagine everyone dressed in a variety of Indian coloured clothing – the scary thing was that I have clothes like that in my Rucksack to wear on a daily basis.
With a bit of help from my mum I’d managed to get some decent ingredients and with the fire fairy being an artist I was in luck. Just as the food was being served at the party a Tiger roared on the beach - people were climbing palm trees to escape, grabbing their children and running to their beach shacks, pushing boats out to the water to put a barrier between themselves and this fierce looking tiger, dogs howled, cows ran from their comfy sand seats. The tiger then entered the party – Angela had painted me from head to foot as a tiger and I have to say – I looked awesome!!
Mucho dancing, free beers, congas, singing and photo’s with everyone in Goa ensued, then I managed to bump into a super sexy Swedish girl who wanted me to use my hands to paint her body in the same fashion. It was a tough job but someone had to do it!! :o) So the tiger had a tigress and that meant more photo’s and more free drinks.
The next morning I woke in my Hammock (Angela and I had been living in the trees for some time by this point) surrounded by a group of people – through blurred eyes I couldn’t work out what was wrong. They were all starring at me – I looked down and saw the paint and realised I should have washed it off last night. I strolled or should I say prowled down to the waters edge to the surprise of sunbathers and joggers to take a bath. Oh dear. It wasn’t permanent but lasted a few days!! :o)
It hasn’t all been partying though – we had some tough times too. Swimming with dolphins, surfing, kayaking to rocks to jump off (mucho urchins pins in my hands), jogging on the beach, cycling to perfect juggle towns, jamming on the beach, climbing palm trees, back waters, gorgeous fish buffets…. Should I stop there? Did someone say ‘snow’??? Ho Ho Ho Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!!
Love you all, Papa noel xxxx
(My camera is broken!!! Arrggghhhhh.... but at the menders. Lots of pics from friends to come - watch facebook and I'll post them on here too)
