Travelling in India – the unreported side
Getting “Travellers Tax” because you got a craving for a meat dish. At a restaurant by the beach. With flies. More fool you.
You need to puke so soon and so bad, and the only option is out a tree house window – you do it
You need to puke/shit yourself so bad and so often you have to sleep on the sofa outside the toilets, because there’s no toilet in your treehouse
The travellers tax stages: feeling stomach cramps, not being sick, considering making yourself sick, but don’t because you feel sick, drink some water, BLASTOFF, sweating like shit, you forget the hours, you vom/the other till there’s nothing left to give, sleep, but you can never sleep, water, dioralyte, rest. Finally feeling like you could eat something, you think it’s a beer. It’s not. It’s chips, or toast, or masala chai. You hope it never happens again. You know you’re wrong.
Dealing with Indian squat and drop toilets, feet always covered in a little of your own wee.
Your nails are always dirty and your toes horrific. No matter how many times you wash them.
You wish you had more nail polish and remover to cover up the mess.
Packing, unpacking, re-packing, losing your shit, always quietly hoping your passport is where you think you left it, finding your shit in unexpected places.
You rue the fact you brought that thing with you from home, and look for the best immediate option to send it home, or dump it
Wishing your bag was at least 50% lighter
Leaving another something unneeded behind at each check-out and smiling a little more as your bag gets lighter and lighter
Wondering what more “essentials” you can really cope without
You really can wear the same thing every day, no one else cares
Showering in the dark when the power is out, and washing your hair with toothpaste instead of shampoo by accident
Running out of shampoo and not caring
Running out of anything and not caring, because it’s one less thing to carry/worry about
Running out of coconut oil though, distressing
You can only get £100 out of the ATM at one time, if the ATM booth is open, and getting charged 3% each time for the privilege
Sometimes you really do just want chips, or a pizza, and a TV, whether you’re in Paradise or not. It’s not wrong. It’s just human nature.
You forget the last time you had a shower when it wasn’t in your toilet
you feel like a dick every time you order something, and ask for the wifi code in the same breath
Forever trying to even up the tan lines and the sunburn
Realising you basically wear your Bikini everyday, so you didn’t need as many pants as you think. Happily bin them as you go.
You don’t need that warm thing. Ever. Put it down. Back away. Don’t pack it. You can buy it later.