Happy Holi!

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As I'm writing this, we are stuck in the middle of Thailand. We have no idea where we are or where our bus has gone. We have had no food or sleep for some time. We are all pretty hysterical - Eakins in particular has definitely gone insane and is cackling like a hyena. We are surrounded by other lunatics. We are in the most pathetic looking services I have ever seen. There is no McDonalds or chewable toothpaste dispenser, there isn't even a toilet just a developed hole in the ground that you have to pay 5 Baht for the privilege of pissing in. The whole operation is being orchestrated by a buffoon. The bus company's boss (who occasionally screams something incoherent at us like 'TAKE UP!') looks like a little fat Thai Cristiano Ronaldo, sporting full Real Madrid training kit. Fake, naturally.

Things have just taken a dramatic turn for the worse. After spending the last twelve hours complaining about how our seats didn't recline properly and that the air conditioning was too cold, we have now been transferred to an open-back jeep. There are nine of us squeezed in here, including a guy who looks like Steve Mcmanaman, who's had an absolute touch and has ended up in the front. It feels like if we broke a bit sharply we'd end up sprawled across the M1 (except of course it's not the M1, it's just some crappy Thai road). Oh we're stopping again, brilliant.

So now there's fourteen of us piled in a car the size of a Vauxhall Safira. Wilko's perched on a booster seat in the front, absolutely demolishing a Magnum despite it being about half six in the morning. He just fiddled with the radio trying to find Kiss and now it's just producing fuzz. Apparently it's still about four hours to Phuket, so it looks like we'll be popular. But I'm getting massively ahead of myself; a lot's happened since I left you in Anjuna with them crafty Kosovans. Having painted the town red (or barry coloured), we decided to head down South and experienced the more chilled out Palalolem, where we saw out our last days of Goa on the beach. With only a couple of days left in India, we took our final sleeper train back up to Mumbai where we stumbled across a street festival that meant all night whiskey induced celebrations. Keen to respect traditional Indian culture, we joined in wholeheartedly and enthusiastically. The next day, nursing spectacular hangovers, we went to Mumbai airport and headed towards Bangkok.

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