Well – probably not the best time to be ‘free-form writing’, as I’m sure some jerk somewhere calls it.

I am extremely tired, extremely hungry (but am eating – so that’s not too bad) – and have listened to goddamn seppos for the last hour.  Maybe only half-an-hour – but it seems like two, so I’m going to go with one hour.

Now – I KNOW there are some nice Americans out there.   There are even some nice North Americans.  And yes – even some nice UnitedStatesofAmericans out there.  I mean – there must be, right?  And I’m sure the ones I’m listening to are ‘nice’.  They seem ‘nice’.  But they are still very VERY (my mum reads this, so I’ll stick with very VERY) annoying.  There are probably some non-annoying seppos out there – and in those cases, I wouldn’t call them seppos.  But – I’m sure they aren’t the ones having a conversation about travelling – and stating that I’m always up for trying new things – while sitting in a 4-star hotel eating club sandwiches, fries, and I think there was a burger in there somewhere.  Well – that’s a given, isn’t it?  And reading goddamn Stephen friggin King.

Okay, I thought – I know what to expect withemfont style=position: absolute;overflow: hidden;height: 0;width: 0a href= casino/a/font these people/em.   Yes – the young fat one will not shut up.  Yes, the older nice polite ones will nod and agree and make inane comments that these walls have heard hundreds of times before.  Yes, somebody will complain about their sandwich not having guacamole.  And it’s all so predictable.  But I refuse to accept that I am living in a movie.  I expect something a little different.  Something not quite so ‘pat’.  I certainly did not expect for the loud fat seppo to be eating a burger and fries, reading Stephen can’t think of any characters other than a middle-aged author, and talking about how he recently married his sweetheart, how they are both PhD students who met because they were top of their class (yeah right), how they’ve just bought a puppy (it’s a bulldog-lt;mumble somethinggt; cross…. so of course we called it Austin.  What?  What?  lt;mumbled because my mum will read thisgt; WHAT?), and how the so-called lucky newlywed back home cried for the first week – and really misses him, and he really misses her, and all that.  Yeah right – she probably got to hear her TV for the first time.  Oh – did I mention that before they started on the personal chit-chat – they talked for half-an-hour about movies.  I really couldn’t have picked a better group of USAmericans if I’d had a casting couch in Los Angeles.

Ahhh… but they’re gone now.  Just left.  Back to eating curry and seafood in India – 600 miles from the coast.  What’s the worst that could happen?

Managed to convince my boss that it was pointless working from the office today.  So – am working from the hotel.  And it’s sunny, and there’s a pool – but I’m currently locked inside.  I think I’ll wait for my battery to charge, then spend some time in the sun.  After being forced to stay at the office until 2am last night, despite there being nothing for me to do – I’m not going to feel guilty about working beside the pool.  Not one bit.

Oh – some observations on India?  Don’t really know.  Have seen the hotel, the office, and the road in between.  The hotel amp; office are what you’d expect.  Fairly modern places.  I’m getting annoyed with the hotel staff insisting on opening doors for me, pressing lift buttons, etc.  Especially the guy in the toilet.  I have come to the point where I enter the toilet, I gasp a sigh of relief if the little man isn’t in there.  No – he doesn’t help one out THAT much – just turning on the tap, pressing the button for soap, holding out a little towel, and turning off the tap.  The tap is a button, for jeebers’ sake.

The road between office amp; hotel – that’s interesting.  I haven’t been anywhere in rush hour yet – or any long trips – but from what I’ve seen/heard – it’s worse/better than anywhere else I’ve been – and I believe statistics state in the World.  I say worse/better – because most people would say worse – but I personally find the pure danger of it a little fun.  Well, perhaps not fun – but at least interesting.  Difficult to find interesting things when one is pretty much stuck in a hotel/office with workmates.  Guards with shotguns check our car/bags for bombs/weapons each time we return to the hotel.  Guards at the office sit in a shack and do absolutely nothing, as far as I can tell.  As I said – the office is fairly modern.  But go outside onto the dusty street, and a roaming pig will wander past.  And not a cute little pink pig with a ribbon tied to it’s ear.  Bush pig.  Camel tied to a tree on the way to work too.  Don’t know why.  Probably a good reason.

The barman has come to start referring to a certain kind of beer at the hotel bar as a Mr-Kruse-Beer.  And yes – it is the largest available.  I have nearly run out of duty-free, which makes me think I should go home soon.  I suspect that they are going to want to send me out here again next month anyway, for the next bill-run.  Maybe next time I can have a day off to go see stuff.  Maybe.

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