The bus to Munnar reminded me again why I hate travelling by bus in this country. Apparently there was a strike with the tourist bus drivers, which meant there was only the local bus. Actually the roads in Kerala aren't all that bad, and for the most part the state seems quite well-off, no doubt thanks to the burgeoning tourist industry. But the heat is the real killer. Packed into a rickety old bus with the intermingled sweat of a hundred other people pressed up against you in the stifling heat, this no good. And so this way we wound up from the coast into premier tea country with our man, Manu.

There was a fire burning up in the mountains at night when we arrived, and a plaster Jesus waiting for us in a glass box at the bus stop. We argued over whether the Southern Cross was really the Southern Cross. I maintain that it is.

Manu brought us to his homestay up in the tea fields, and we were promptly introduced to Anu, Vinu, Binu, and Johnson. We were their first guests in their new homestay, the humbly named Clouds Land. From the end of the steep and winding driveway, one is presented with the most spectacular sunsets over the tea fields. Unfortunately my camera is a piece of s***, so I didn't even try to capture them. But they were ni-ice.

That night Manu and friends cooked us dinner over the fire and we all got drunk on Kingfishers and sung songs from The Lion King and Aladdin and other stupid movies from the 90s. Joel had actually printed out the lyrics to Scar's "Be Prepared" at an internet cafe. He likes to be prepared.

We drove around in a jeep for a couple of days doing things like riding elephants, looking at mountains, paddling around on little boats, shooting BB guns at balloons, and going on "spice tours", which is like a safari for pot plant enthusiasts (yeah!). I shot 12 balloons in a row before a cheering crowd of school boys, and for my valiant achievements I won three plastics whistles and a metal ring. I'm just that damn good. I will challenge any man to a BB gun balloon shoot-out, any day, any time.

Our last night, Manu and friends made had us made up a birthday cake for me, John, and Charlotte, and we all got roaring drunk again around the fire and probably ruined the honeymoon of a young Indian couple staying in the room above, who would have been kept up all night by the screams of wild monkey creatures and horrific renditions of more Lion King songs. In the morning they gave us dirty looks as they were leaving.