GOA
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I spent around three weeks in Goa, spending a few days on the beach, and then moving to another. I didn't work my way from North to South, but dotted about the place, which meant rather hectic bus journeys, but I think it was possibly the most fun way to do it. Initially I was travelling around Goa with two girls from Chicago, who I'd met in Bombay. I'd just finished my lunch, in Leopold's on Colaba Causeway, and got talking with them. I found out that they were intending to travel down to Goa on the same day that I'd planned to, and we agreed to travel together. India being India, not everything went that smoothly, as I couldn't get a train ticket.
I managed to get a bus down to Goa though, and (feeling rather ill) ended up on a rather nasty touristy beach. After a couple of days, we met up at Arambol - a fantastic beach up in the North, with a very traveller-y atmosphere. I stayed at a little beach-hut community called Tarzania, where I met some fantastic people. Travelling around Goa was really great - very relaxing whilst at the beach, and very different to the rest of India that I've seen. I travelled with the two girls from Chicago for around ten days or so, before they decided to move on to Pondicherry - Sophie and Marie-Laure were great fun to travel with, and wonderful company. I decided to spend a few more days in Panjim before hitting the beaches again. Panjim feels a little like home, I have to say. I think the Goan in me started to take root there a bit - helped by the hospitality of my relatives Aires & Julianna who live there, Godinho's restaurant, and the Top Gear Pub!

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The North end of Arambol beach.

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Gravestones at St. Augustine’s Cathedral.

St Augustine’s is my favourite place in Goa, if not in the whole of India. It is a vast, sprawling ruin, seemingly not visited by many travellers or tourists. Spending sunset there is simply magic, and whenever I’m in Goa in the future, I will make sure I’m there for sunset again.

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Sophie (L) and Marie-Laure (R) at St. Augustine’s. There is only one security guard there, so within minutes of arriving, we were able to scramble all over the place, and have a really good explore.

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Part of the Tower of St. Augustine’s is all that is left standing.

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A view through the ruins to the tower or St. Augustine’s.

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Sunset at St. Augustine’s.

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Early morning at Benaulim beach. No tourists for miles….

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A dilapidated building in Panjim.

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Although the buildings are look rather worse-for-wear, the streets of Panjim are remarkably clean. I think this building is a few doors down from Godinho's - a great place to go for Crab Xacuti, or spicy stuffed fish!

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Beach huts further South – possibly at Paololem.

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Spices at Mapusa Market.

Here's a little poem about my friend Leo:
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"Travels at haste,
Cycles at speed,
On his bicycle,
Made out of tweed."

Adventurers

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My latest project that I have set myself is to create some characters. I've recently started drawing again, but want to draw in an entirely different style. Before, I was using my scribbles as a form of exorcism & diary keeping - a way to express everything from my daily routine, to unusual things that happened around me, to my fears and worries. It was all rather unhealthy really - I ended up dwelling on my concerns for too long, and my drawing became rather introspective. But, my new project is actually creative - the plan is to design a series of characters, and create 'character sheets' for each one. I've thought up a scenario in which these characters can exist: it is the end of the Second World War, and across Europe and North Africa, Allied soldiers are starting to realise that with the end of war will come an end to their jobs. With the prospect of being demobbed, and returning to the shattered cities of Old Europe, a small group of servicemen and women desert, and team up in North Africa, forming a group of mercenaries. Basically, the group are dashing around the desert sands in search of plundered Nazi gold. Trying to avoid the armies that they've deserted from, and clashing with German deserters & desert people who are also in search of the loot.

It may be a little cliched, but I'm not actually trying to write a book/film etc about it, just designing some characters. So, I've been doing a fair amount of reserach into equipment, uniforms, period hairstyles etc over the last week. The look and feel of the characters is based on a pulped collage of imagery from Victorian explorers & hunters, First & Second World War militaria, and 1950s guerillas in South America & the Middle East. It's not true to history, but I think that this way, it'll have a rich feeling, and allows me to be nice & flexible with what I can include. I'll post some of my sketches soon. But first...

To get into the feel of these characters, I had a bit of a rummage through my wardrobe, and found some bits & pieces that I thought looked as if they were from this period, and I took a few photos (which was a huge amount of fun, as I ran around being silly, and pretending it was research!) Here are a few of them!

Earlier this year, I was thinking about finding a proper 'grown-up' job. I just wanted to get some money & move out of my parents' place, and go travelling again. Frustration ensued. It's not that I don't like my job - I really enjoy working at Real Ale (visit us at www.realale.com !), but I thought maybe it was time to get a horrible job in an office. Anyway, here's an email which I wrote in late May:

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"Well my family won't be getting any of my millions (except for my millions of debts).
I shall fake my own death, and dissappear...

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But I'll be there for the wake, it'll be fantastic. I'm not sure if I've told you my plans for my funeral, but it will be the party of a lifetime. I'll put the "fun" into "funeral", and the "laughter" into "slaughter".

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(That is, if anyone else turns up.)

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I've been looking up jobs today on Reed.co.uk . How depressing. It seems that they all want all sorts of weird qualifications which I've never heard of, and the only ones that I think I can do are call centres or shoeshops (ugh! take your feet away from me, you unwashed hordes!), or they pay actually WORSE than the job I've got. I saw one job going at a radio station. "Great!" I thunk to myselfwards. But it turns out that I'd have to be able to speak Panjabi, and like Panjabi music, so that was straight out the window. Doesn't the world know about my dreams? Why aren't I being showered with wonderful job opportunities and glittering prospects? Yes, I know I'm nothing special, and don't deserve them as much as some other people might, but I want 'em anyway. I really don't want to be doing a dull job. I like the fact that when I meet an old friend who I havent seen for a while, and they say "I'm an accountant/trainee lawyer/office manager/PR person/marketing bod/recruitment consultant/etc, what do you do", and I mention the little matter of beer, and their little eyes light up, and conversation ensues. I like that. Rather than replying, "Yes? Me too" and conversation stagnates, just like our office-job lives.

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That's a bit of a bleak outlook, n'est pas? I think I should get resigned to living in the real world, getting a suit and a 9-5:30, going bald, hating my boss, sneering at the other idiots that I work with, complaining grumbling and griping at each 'bad day at the office', slowly sinking into bottle after bottle of wine after work, praying for bank-holiday weekends, taking clients to strip-clubs which I can't afford, but just have to go along with them because we need to open new accounts, going bald, skin turning greyer, hands dyed an off-black from photocopier ink, eyes strained and tightened because of 8 hours per-day infront of a computer screen, the death of whatever social life I may have, no prospects of travel except to see the Swindon branch, and maybe get promoted so I can move to Woking, fighting over who'll get the corner-office seeing as Jenkins died (suicide, poor fellow. Killed himself with a letter opener. In the corner office), An awful weeded wife shrieking at me each time I get back from work, because I haven't managed to pluck up the balls to ask the boss for a pay-rise, Little Timmy's teeth are coming through, and he won't stop screaming so wife-dearest bought him another cat, I hate cats, why couldn't he have been called Quixote, and had a puppy, and spent endless summers in the garden instead of driving me mad! Why did I marry HER? Why did I ever take this job? I'm going to go and steal a car, tie one end of a rope around my neck, the other around a tree, and floor the accellerator. That'll show 'em. Yes, that'll show 'em. Then who'll be laughing?

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Or I could stay at Real Ale for a while, and see where the beer lead me...

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Anyway,

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As always yours, blinkety blinkety etc, but forever myself,

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CT.

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(A painter has just arrived at my window, peering peeking in, whilst he paints my window frames. So I'm going to escape into the garden once more. I'm very bored of Reed.co.uk . I may go for a stroll to the newsagents and get myself a packet of Refreshers and maybe some Apple Jacks.)"

OK, I've decided to add a new post - this is an email which I wrote on the 1st of June. It's nothing special, but I like it anyway.
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"Oh it's all so mind-numbingly DEPRESSING.
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All this jargon bullshit that they use to describe jobs - to try to glam them up & look interesting, (although they're not), to get people to apply. But my head just goes into a blurred haze & ignores all the words, until it gets to the required qualifications bit, and then I get even more depressed. The amount of stupid qualifications that you need for things nowadays...
And when I do finally go for an interview, I know I won't really want the job, and it's hard trying to pad out your interview patter if all you really mean is, "I want money, give me the stupid fucking job."
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I have every day this week off - no shifts available until Saturday. Most people would think that that's great. But not me. I'm stuck at home, broke, until my cheques clear, with the rhinocerous tyranny of my monstrous mother constantly looming. She's taken to waking me up at ungodly hours, which means that I've started taking a sleeping-bag to the bathroom for my morning routine, shutting the door, and having a sleep until its a civilised hour to rise and start the day. (I really am not a morning person at all, unless there's things to do which I either really have to do, or really want to do...) And then, through the day, its constant nagging, even if I'm actually doing something important, like applying for jobs. Previously, that would be a cue for me to leave the house for the day & do some writing or drawing (usually over a very long, slow pint or two) a mad old walk, and then home for a bite to eat in the evening. But I'm not drawing & writing ever again, so I don't know what to do when I escape on my days off. I can't just walk, that would be very strange (& the battery on my i-Pod only lasts half-an-hour, so it wouldn't be much fun tramping the streets all day). I need something to do, in walking distance, which doesn't cost much money. And isn't the job centre, that inner circle of Hell.
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I like the idea of False Ale - I'd be selling people the concept, the idea of beer, without actually selling them anything.
"Hello, Mr Thomas. I'd like to buy some beer to go with ham & pea soup. What would you suggest?"
"Nogue O Havre Stout. It has a lovely, smokey, piney flavour, with dark, roasty coffee notes and biscuit. Try to imagine that when you're eating. That'll be £5.50 please."
Money for advice, really. I could be a beer/meal adviser.
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How's your jobhunting going? Do Innocent make chocolate smoothies? Or is that technically actually a milkshake?
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If you're made redundant by Innocent, do they give you a golden milkshake?
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I'm thinking of having myself committed - if you think about it, it's the ideal life really. They do your laundry, and they cook. You're surrounded by interesting, likeminded people. You get a nice room with soft walls to lean against, even if the decor is rather minimalist. And you don't have to do anything! The only problems are rent, (I think you still have to pay for your upkeep), and the absence of beer. I think the absence of beer would send me past the point of no return. I would rename myself Raoul Spifame, and live the highlife in my little cell.
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Better than looking for a job.
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I think the best solution is to get outrageously pissed on bourbon, smoke a ridiculous amount of joints, get overly buzzy on strong espresso coffee, and forget about the whole job-hunting scene. Maybe we could meet up & do that at some point?
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For now, I'm leaping back into Reed, and Monster, and all the rest of that lot, for more torture, boredom, and then inevitable eventual cry of "bollocks", which will signal the start of another epic walk.
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I do hope all's well, and job opportunities are queued up around the block trying to get your attention, wearing pretty pink tutus and curtseying each time you pass.
The only job opportunity that's even glanced down my driveway only speaks Punjabi.
As always yours, but forever myself,
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Plunch.
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PS. I couldn't decide which crap joke to make about being made redundant by Innocent. Other alternatives included being given a golden handjob, but I thought that would be a little inappropriate."

WELCOME TO THE GROTESQUE FURNITURE OF MY MIND...

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Hello Sportsfans!

I decided it was about time that I became modern and cutting edge, and so here I am, chasing the zeitgeist. Basically, in my blog, I'm just going to be writing the odd little piece here and there, following the whimsy and trailing thoughts that occassionally creep from the dark shadows amongst the grotesque furniture of my mind.

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I'm also hoping to write a few little short stories (very short, and not really leading anywhere at all), and maybe a few little articles about things and people which interest me. I'll be re-visiting pieces that I've written in the past, and also old emails & letters which I like.

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And, of course, there will be photos, and occassional scribbles by me.

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But all that's to come! Today, I'm just getting the feel of how everything works, and so on. Inspiration must wait! It seems pretty straight-forward to use this blogging thing, so I'm not feeling like too much of a dinosaur. Although, I haven't yet worked out how to play around with how the blog will look - for example, I'd like to align my title a bit better (up at the top of the page) so that the word "mind" isn't all by itself on a separate line. Wow, this is a rivetting read... In my next post, I'll write about my latest project.