56. Happy New Year!

New Year in McLeod Ganj was noisy and crowded - hundreds of indians lurking about in the square, buying the most disgusting looking cakes from the corner stalls and making a noise.  The tibetans don't like the indians much - well, not the crowds of noisy Punjabi youths who come up here to let off steam and then go back to their well-behaved lives at home.  Some of the hotels promised parties and disco dancing in gaudy bright lights but mostly it was just business as usual, ie shut at 9-10pm. 

Feeling exhausted, I went to bed and awoke at 5am to realise why.  Suffice to say that my previous bout of the ubiquitous delhi belley was just a practice run for yesterday.  Yesterday was the real thing.  The one consolation is that at my advanced age I am now solvent enough to be able to afford a nice room in which to serve my time.  I spoke to my son who sounded great, he reassured me that no trip to India is complete without a dose of the runs.  My mother phoned me to wish me happy new year.  She kept asking if I was OK and I kept saying "fine" through gritted teeth, hoping she would end the call before I needed to dash to the loo.  Fast.

This morning I am weakly enjoying the birds outside my room, and the child who serenades the morning with his joyful, raucous chant, and a cup of hot marmite.  The joys of marmite!  Amazingly, I found a jar of proper english marmite and snapped it up never thinking it would be a life saver!