I'm relaxing on the Promenade Deck while we're alongside in Cochin. We went ashore this morning and beat our way through the throngs of hopeful vendors on the dock. The first sign I saw was for shoe repairs - I'm a bit cheesed off because I do actually need a shoe repaired and I didn't have it with me. Must remember to take it when we reach Mumbai.

Anyhow, we located a cab with air conditioning, having bypassed the array of tuk-tuks lined up, and negotiated a deal. $20 US for 3 hours, shared with another couple. Off we went to see the sights.

Somehow, a lot of what we saw seemed familiar from our last trip to India except that Cochin is quite green. There are the same emaciated cows, goats and dogs scavenging by the roadside and beggars reaching out for alms. An ancient woman came tapping on the taxi window with her hands outstretched. Alan, in his generosity, gave her a fistful of annas. She looked at them scathingly, almost spat on them and then hurled them back through the open window. Last time he'll be so generous!

We saw all the interesting sights of Cochin. Did you know that Vasco de Gama died and was buried here in the Catholic Cathedral? I'm not sure what happened but I think his remains were eventually returned to Portugal. The cathedral is ornately decorated in the Portuguese style but is typically shabby, as are most things in India.

Cochin is definitely worth a visit. It's one of the oldest European settlements in India and has a population of over 1 000 000, made up of Christians, Hindus and Moslems.

Our driver thought we might like to spend some time on the beach. We dutifully admired it and did appreciate the cooling breeze. Somewhere under the piles of garbage washed up was some grey sand. People were beachcombing but not for interesting shells or pieces of driftwood - just for something to help them survive.

After spending enough time at the beach we stopped at a bar and indulged in a cold Kingfisher beer or two. Later, at a street stand, I bought myself some perfumed oil and two carved wooden boxes which are like 3D jigsaws for Mollie and Lucy. I could have bought some exquisite jewellery sporting large rubies, diamonds and emeralds, or even a houseful of superior carpets, but I restrained myself. Well, to be honest, Alan did most of the restraining.

Next stop was the fish market. It was right on the beach and had a backdrop of unique fishing nets suspended from long bamboo poles. Apparently they are found nowhere else in the world apart from China, giving rise to the theory that the Chinese were in Cochin long before the Portuguese who arrived early in the 16th century.

The other features of the fish market were the flies that crawled inside and over the fish that was for sale, the stench that pervaded everywhere, and the size of the tiger prawns. They were enormous. One would make a meal on its own.

The dhobi which we went to next was a hive of activity. The morning's washing was all done and there were what looked like hundreds of lines of sheets flapping in the breeze. A skeletal dhobi wallah was ironing a shirt using an enormous coal heated iron. I tried to lift it but could not budge it at all. How he managed it with the perfect result he was getting was amazing.

We were back at the ship in time for a belated lunch. We didn't have to run the gauntlet of smuggling over-the-limit amounts of alcohol on board as we hadn't bought any at all.

Sailaway was spent on deck sipping a strawberry daiquiri as the last sights of Cochin slipped past.

Who needs Naplan to make your life interesting?

Next stop Mumbai.