So we escaped the grunge resort and we are at Palolem beach. Possibly one of my most favourite places in the world.
The journey went really well but once we arrive there's always a struggle to get to the beach resort from the road. Because, well, it's on the beach. I felt so bad for the guy who insisted on carrying our bags! Steve's 12k rucksack on his back and my 16k on his front and pulling someone else's suitcase through the soft sand. Hero!
We have a beach hut at Cafe Blue (this detail is for Sam M who knows it well).
Last night we had dinner on the beach by candlelight and I whooped Steve at Rummy.

We are situated next to a yoga centre which we are excited about using. I used to do yoga at Mansion house back home and once a month or so we had to share the space with Shaman dancers who were noisily and frantically chasing away demons ( I think). Anyhow after our lovely evening we retired to bed and the drumming started at the yogi centre. It's ok Steve I assured. I told him what it was. Won't last long, I said, as it crescendo'd into a full on festival of drumming, chanting, fireworks ( sodding things) and generally we could have been in the middle of any massive festival arena ( but in bed).
Who would have thought it was going to be a full night. They must have some tricky demons here. At one point I swear they moved on to drumming on our wooden hut walls.
I'm hoping Steve and i are well cleansed by that! 'Cos later I'm getting myself a big tin lid and a stick and I'm going to do my own demon chasing ! Maybe I'm going to need fireworks too?
Although I've just spoken to the gay couple at the next table who said they didn't hear it. Maybe it was a dream?