"How are we doing on the blog?" asked Grant. "There's nothing to say, we havent done anything".

We then got our act together and sorted out a taxi for Fort Aguada about 8 miles away. The Navaratri festival is on and so lots of local people are doing the same as us. The festival is the triumph of good over evil and all the vehicles are festooned with garlands of orange flowers. The road to the fort has many bolltlenecks and tedious car jams. There's lots of boats heading to Dolphin Point and this is what is causing the trouble. Eventually we get through and are at Fort Aguada. We tell the driver to pick us up in an hour. The fort is historically intersting but it's architecture is bland. Then again there was a lot of places that you werent allowed into. It was hot up there, very hot and we'd pretty much seen the place within 15 minutes. We get some water , sit in the shade, sweat and walk around the fort again. The place is now packed and for some reason the main gate is locked so everyone has to go through a small turnstile to get in and out...We jump the fence. It's hot, very hot. After what seems like 5 hours, we get back into the cab and hit the car jams again. A well fed Policeman makes an appearance and starts shouting at everyone. Sunil the taxi driver says he's only doing this because there's a senior policeman on his way who's heard about the chaos, otherwise he woud still be sitting in his hut.

We get back to the hotel and go by the pool, Grant has got the hysterics and is laughing a lot. I think he's got heat stroke. We order some food and then Grant says he wants more, which is unusual for him. He then has a dip and I tell him to keep in the shade. Then his spring rolls arrive and he comes back to eat his second course. He's still having the giggling fits. Then he turns green, grabs the key to the room and zooms off. I assume he's made it, but as I glance to the left as I see two English women staring behind me with jaws agape. "Oh no", I'm thinking. I turn around to find Grant projectile vomiting over the gardinias. "Sorry Dad", he manages to say in between bursts. The staff quickly get things sorted and I make sure Grant has water and has a lie down. I then talk to the supervisor chap who I've spoken to a few times, he's a nice guy. I apologise for what's happened. "It is no problem", he says, "Your son has heat madness".