Meet the parents

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I'm becoming convinced that life is a series of circles (ah, the philosophical side of India must be getting to me). When you're little holidays with your parents are great. Then hit the teenage years, when you'd probably pay not to go on holiday with your parents (but you have no money). Happily, by your mid twenties it suddenly becomes a great idea again.
Especially when you've become used to living on street food and the closest thing you've seen to a swimming pool is children having a bath in a water trough.
Not that I'm saying I only wanted to see my parents for their access to fine dining and leisure facilities... But heck, what facilities they were!

I was a little hesitant (read:scared) when I heard that my parents were going to join me in India; out of all the countries I've visited I'm not too sure that India is the best to fill a father with confidence over letting his little girl go globe trotting. Nor is it the cleanest...
Ironically, the only person who got sick was little Miss 'only been ill twice, the whole trip, isn't my digestion system the balls' Me. Oh isn't the universe is funny.
But a liberal application of flat coke and paracetamol soon saw to that and otherwise we had a ball.

We split the time between sightseeing and sun bathing (apparently the secret to a long marriage is compromise... the secret to a happy daughter is grilled king prawns). The weather was perfect (it had been raining the week before - the universe must have gotten its weeks mixed up). We had a lovely driver called Hari who drove us into the backwaters and up through the tea and spice plantations. Mum was possibly the best dressed person the Ghats have seen since 1948 - put me to shame...
And we ate like kings (anyone who's read my Singapore entry probably realises how easily I'm bought with shell fish, so I won't wax lyrical about it again) but the bizarre Indian import tax levels meant this was the driest holiday we've had for years. We did try the local wine. Once.

So, the food was good (the big box of Cadburys was amazing), the books they brought were great, the conversation was lovely (no need to tell them where I'm from, what I do or where I studied). All in all, they made pretty good travel companions. As long as you don't need to haggle...

So me and Dad went to the shops in a tuk-tuk. The conversation went much like this:
Me: 'We'd like to go to the junction - how much?'
Driver: '200'
(it should be about 70)
Me: 'Haha! No, 30'
At which point you'd usually wait until he drops to 150 then counter with 50. You wouldn't jump in with:
Dad: '150!'

Whose side are you on????
Oh well, he enjoyed it and it made the tuk-tuk mans day. But from that point onwards all negotiations went through me!

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Photos

A stunningly random statue
Especially in a country where women can't even swim in a bikini

Sunset by the pool
I could have gotten used to that...