TV

Rickshaw driver from the Helipad to the train station tried to talk us into a rickshaw odyssey all the way to Trivandrum ( probably 5 hours by auto rickshaw only 50 Kilometers) "Next train 1.30pm" "I drive Trivandrum every day" Bull Farts is what I said. We met some scary Muslims on the platform who grilled us about our marital status. "Goldie, my wife, a non muslim, is a very nice girl. She is from the Hutt and her parents are cool as"
The next train to Tvan is to leave at 2pm make that 2.30pm Indian transport time. Without fail every mode of transport in India in at least half an hour late. Buffer time in key. We sat baking under the corrugated steel platform shade from around 9am till 2.45pm. Impressive I think. There were rubbish bins in the train station, maybe a hundred of them lining the perimeter of the platform, impressive also.

The train was mental. Sleeper class 3 was totally packed with indians. Indians on the floor, packed into the booths, sprawled on the luggage racks and packed at elbows through the cabin corridor and entrance way. There were, as is usual, Indians hanging off the sides of the train as well and every so often a Chai or biscuit men would roll through the cabin balancing pots and bags on his head as he trod on sleeping Indians. Gold and i said a quick goodbye to our useless packs as they were hoisted up into the lofty sleeper class luggage/beds and we waited and squeezed and sweated as the vast variety of Keralan smells wafted in and the countryside rolled by.

Trivandrum was a disappointing flop. It was muggy and bustling. It was already getting dark and our packs were weighing a half a tonne each. The hotel we ended our search at(Karma Tourist Centre) gave us a bizarrely mosquito infested room to stay in, claiming no other rooms were available. Lies. Gold had a shout at the two halfwit management goons and they quickly offered up a nicer room when we said the we would be leaving.

Goldie's elephant pants are awesome

There is a TV in our hotel room.