Palolem has treated us very well, the dust free skies, cold drinks, western toilets and helpful people have been a delight and an absolute breath of fresh air after our stamina sapping city hopping. Our accommodation has been very nice and I have enjoyed scratching the stray dogs here with my big toe as they seek out shade under my sun lounger.

That being said, I advise anyone to never willingly sleep in a beach hut. For one thing I am a very light sleeper and I need quiet and darkness to nod off, and let me assure you, you don't get either of these necessities whilst parked on a beach. The bars and restaurants hemming us in dutifully pumped electro music through their speakers until a dizzying hour of the morning whilst a host of drunken women garbled profanities into their drinks. Finally, when all that excitement has finished, you're left with nature; magnificent, illustrious and terrifying. Pigs squealed alarmingly throughout the night (at something predatory no doubt), something the size of a dragon could be heard fluttering inside our hut, insects ogled us through our netting barrier - licking their pointy noses and dribbling slightly. Then, competing with all this, was that bloody sea. Dear me! I was promised tranquility and serenity, not someone bagging a gigantic, moist drum next to my headboard every twenty seconds! Every now and then there would be a longer swell of silence than usual and I would sit bolt upright waiting for the next wave, worrying that a tsunami was afoot.

Amongst planning my escape route, repacking a 'tsunami evacuation bag' and peering, wide eyed, into the darkest corners of our hut in search of carnivorous insects, I didn't get much sleep and awoke gritty eyed the following day.

The day was spent mostly relaxing on a sun-lounger whilst ordering cheese and pineapple toasties and going for sporadic dips in the warm sea.

Feeling well rested and watered we headed to bed, unaware of the afflictions awaiting us tomorrow!

Doing her usual meander around the shops in the morning, Chelsea decided to pop into our hotel reception to check our transfer to the train station had been booked. It hasn't, and our accommodation had not been paid for either - that tourism agency will be the death of me!

Basically, the rest of the day was spent in a steady plateau of anxiety and stress while we attempted to refuse the payment that the hotel were now asking us for and attempting to contact the tourism agency to make them pay. We tried and failed to get their payment and had to negotiate a fare with a local taxi driver by depositing his money with a local shop keeper using our debit card, the shop keeper didn't have money but would pay the driver when the demonetisation here has resolved (I'm still not sure how I blagged that).

A train station floor, which hadn't been cleaned since 1892, was were we spent the next four hours waiting for our delayed train to Mumbai. We yet again couldn't rustle up a ten rupee note so had to look listlessly as canteens of chai and trays of sandwiches went by. This time we had a bottle of water between us and rationed it into sniffs rather than gulps.

Despite having a very dejected five minutes, we quickly pulled ourselves together and found that we attracted other travellers like magnets - we must look well-worn and rugged by now. A Brazilian boy named Daniel and how girlfriend Stellar were the first pair to join us, they asked our advice on what platform they should be on and what the number of their train was - I felt wildly important talking them through the Indian train basics. Next, a Ukrainian couple sheepishly asked our advice about their tickets. They were an odd pairing, the boy was very shy and the girl very loud. The boy however was incredible interesting, when he could get a word in over his girlfriend. He was a photographer for the National Geographic and had been to some extraordinary places, I was savagely jealous of him!

When we finally got on our train, by some lucky chance, we met a tourism minister and a property developer - they were on the train as they had missed their flight, something that they were not at all happy about. They were extremely sympathetic when they heard our situation and incredibly helpful. They were outraged when we told them of our tourism agency's antics and the minister said that he would get the manager arrest and punished for what he had done. Thinking these were wonderful but hollow words I was dumbfounded when on his phone he showed me photos taken of him with both Modi, the Indian Prime Minister and Putin, the Russian President! The two colleagues have been in touch with us ever since and even gave us money to get a taxi to our hotel! It's great to have some faith restored in Indian people and their customs.