The tally: two bouts of traveler’s diarrhea, one crater on my arm, pestilent boils on the back of my neck and face. When you own a travel website the worst thing you could do is rant about it zoned out on antibiotics. Oh wait, it’s me and that’s what I do.
Do you ever feel trapped in a David Lynch film? One day I woke to discover a dwarf dancing in the kitchen. Replace dwarf with a toothless Indian man clutching a cloth saying “I here to clean”. He sashayed into my room, I shooed him out. He glided into the spare room thinking we were going to play Catch the Intruder. Instead of Special Agent Dale Cooper, Christine burst in with a baby on her hip, not a gun, began pointing at him in staccato. “What are you doing in here? You’re not supposed to be here. You can’t just come in here. Go!!” Took her two times to make him understand ‘out’. I channeled Laura Palmer’s homecoming photo, watching this scene with benign detachment. It wasn’t until the aftermath that I noticed my iPhone had vanished from the kitchen table. Since then, I eye any toothless, Indian man with suspicion, wondering if he’ll pull out a neon pink iPhone.
Back to drugs, really refrain from operating any type of vehicle. It may seem effortless, even cool to zip around on a scooter with glee because you paid 150 rupees instead of the normal 250. As you smugly enjoy that feeling of fleecing someone, coupled with drugs, bad shit can happen. In my