5.3.26

Happy birthday to my gorgeous nephew Henry.

After speaking to that lady late last night I researched Cavalossim. It’s only 30 minutes from Benaulim, it’s mine and Lizs last day here, let’s go by bus.

We had breakfast then walked to Maria Hall at the junction where we stayed on week 1. I read that there’s no timetable but they should arrive every 30 minutes.

It felt like forever waiting, sweat pouring off us. Once on the bus the breeze was nice. I sat next to a lovely Indian lady. Her English was perfect, she said she’d learnt it just chatting with English people on the beach and at her spice shop. The fare is 30 rupees, naughty conductor charged the other 3 of us 40. It’s peanuts though, the difference between 28 and 32p each.

We were dropped opposite the Novotel, opposite was Luisa shopping centre, a largish complex of typical jewellery, buddas, elephants and clothes.

We just had a light snack at Win Wins place and chilled on the beach.

A bit later Liz and I went off to explore the shops. I bought a prezzie for John. It’s ghastly but he will love it.

When we left the beach we got a bus virtually straight away. The same driver and conductor. We all paid 30, Liz even asked for her 10 change from this morning and he gave it to her! I guess it’s the principle but not sure I’d have been as brave.

On the way home… A WhatsApp message from Indigo. The Delhi to Istanbul part of our flight is cancelled tomorrow. Messaged John, he’s missing me and got teary, made me teary. I just want to get home.

There’s no point going to Delhi with no forward plan. It’s the place I hate the most of everywhere we’ve ever been. I cried the last time, sheer shock at the filth, the spitting, the toileting in the streets. No. Just no. Never again,I cannot risk being there for however many days. The backlog of cancelled flights there is just crazy.

My instinct was to stay home this evening, or grab a quick Labrador from opposite, and begin searching for alternatives, but knew that was going to be horrible. Crying is not going to help either.

So, where to eat on our last night? We settled on Brilliant Cafe Restaurant, a great chicken biriani. The brilliant Shiva (remember? The postcode guy) came over to say hi. How do we get to Istanbul Shiva? He rattled off a few routes, and bits of information. How on earth do you know this? Just from speaking to people. His ability to store information astounds me. And cheers me up, he fascinates me.

On the way to the restaurant I said to Sharon that I was struggling. It feels like we need a table of experts all searching for different legs of different options, so she suggested Kevin and I sat together this eve and go through it. It ended up with 4 of us, but no conclusions.

The main thing I need to ensure is that Indigo know Liz & I aren’t going to Dabolim for the Goa to Delhi flight. I’ll do that tomorrow. It was late by now.

Of course I couldn’t sleep. I messaged the Indigo lady who called me when it was cancelled the first time.

At 2.10am she rang me, lucky I was still awake. She cannot help, but she gave me a customer service number.

I think I fell asleep not too long after. I hate this uncertainty.