Get in there my son!

A holiday romance blossoms.

It would seem Spare Ads has managed to cop off successfully. Obviously the footprint is from the “walk of shame” conducted the next morning. I wonder how many fermented yak milks it took him to talk her into it?

Cleanse, Tone, Moisturise

Spare Ads has arrived, been shown around places and has now set off for his intrepid adventure. We’re a little concerned about how his Bear Grylls experience is going to play out after hosting him. First day here we took him for some lounging round the pool. “Is Oil of Ulay with a 15 SP factor as good as a real factor 15 sun screen?”

The next day we all went for dinner and discussed his trek and what kind of personal hygiene facilities are laid on (e.g. who digs the hole in the ground – you or the Sherpa and does the answer vary depending on how up-market the tour company is? If it’s a flannel wash every day, do you get your own flannel or is it shared?. Etc, etc).

When we got to the personal grooming issues he revealed he had bought a battery powered electric razor to ensure he maintained a certain standard but that “I tried it and it was like putting an Epilady on my face”.

Memsaab and I fear if it turns Lord of the Flies, he won’t fare well.

The canary for the coalmine arrives

Our first visitor arrives on Wednesday. Spare Ads is showing up to sample everything we have to offer before running off to spend two weeks trekking and camping in Nepal with some tour company who seem to have a large Australian customer base. I suspect he's either hoping to prey on the loose morals of Sydney girls or sell photos of the men two weeks into the camping, claiming to have discovered proof of the Yeti. Actually that may be his plan with the women also.

My body is a temple

One of the things we wanted to do when we arrived was to take advantage of the change of scenery to kick start a few other changes. What’s the point in moving physically and culturally and then just repeating the same patterns? So in comes the healthy diet, made easy by simply accepting the vegetarian dishes and piles of fresh fruit prepared by the cook. Along comes the regular gym every morning, made easy by a 4.5 hour time difference allowing the opportunity to get the gym, eat the healthy breakfast and still be in the office before anyone in the U.K. cares. Not bothering to wire up a television connection means more and better sleep.

The real deal breaker was when I suggested that we resist the temptation to stack crates of wine in the flat and instead reduce our consumption to evenings out and visits from friends. The look received was on par with having announced I was cancelling Christmas…. because I’d killed Santa…. by repeated blows from a sack of puppies.

Through gritted teeth and with grudging agreement Memsaab went along with it. Until the first return trip back from London. When I found her in duty free quietly clutching a bottle of VSOP brandy and telling it that “Mummy and Daddy will always love you no matter what happens” I thought maybe the occasional nightcap wasn’t too much of a fall from grace. So far it seems we’ve struck a happy balance and Memsaab using the Courvoiser as rubbing liniment seems to have helped her yoga no end.

I've seen a peanut stand and heard a rubber band.

Cows are an everyday thing on the roads. This was a little more uncommon. The oddest thing was that they were in the slow lane.

Driven to distraction

When we arrived we took over not just the apartment of one of Memsaab’s colleague, we also inherited the cook and driver. The cook is wonderful so more on him later. The driver situation was also wonderful but unfortunately too good to last. Due to certain “issues” between his employers’ company and Memsaabs employer we lost him barely a week after we settled in. Cue a string of replacement auditions.

Driver #1 lasted a day – his inability to understand directions to the gym and an insistence on heading to the office even when Memsaab is wearing lycra and a sports top ensured a redeployment to some other lucky soul.

Driver #2 was more exciting. Toll booths – they’re for losers, just shoot through ‘em. Security checkpoints at hotels – why stop unless you’ve got something to show? After four days of nail-biting adrenalin and growing concern that a multi car punch-up was only a matter of time, he too was sent to seek a brighter future.

Now we’re on Driver #3. He’s good. Calm, unruffled, a family man with no need to break any records from A to B. Also has the admirable habit of ensuring there’s a newspaper in the car and is willing to stretch the truth to Madam over when exactly the other half set off to meet her. He cemented his position the other week when after discussing the fact a leopard had been knocked down on the motorway near Gurgaon, he stated “Madam if we see a leopard, I shall throw myself in front of you for him to eat me first”