Namastē!

Indian waterfalls make me smile.

OK so I'm back from India and my apologies for not updating while I was away - but half the time I was working non-stop and half the time I was up in a mountain or on a houseboat with no access to internet. Also I wanted to verbal diarrhea this post all at once because breaking it up would ruin the narrative flow and interrupt my sleeping and drinking time while I was on holiday.

So holy shit, India is cool. I had such an amazing time - great food, great company, breathtaking views and was just a really eye-opening, life changing experience for me. And I mean life changing in the least pretentious way possible. I guess I should say it changed the way I think about things and how I see the world, and I know life changing sounds so goddamn narcissistic (but what else is this blog for, than to air my narcissism to the world?) but it really was a trip I will forever remember.

Alright enough philosophical bull shit - onto the goods!

So somehow, my coworker and I managed to bypass the volcano and the BA strike and make our flight on Monday at 2 pm. We flew business class which was pretty amazing. Usually I'm a first class kind of girl but I know Yahoo! is trying to save some dough so I guess I'll let it slide this time. Anyway it pretty much just means you're closer to the front of the plane and you get 2.5 inches of extra leg room. You also get lots of food and booze which I took advantage of without hesitation. We land in India at 4 am (after watching Shutter Island, Blindside and Sex and the City: The Movie and enjoying my first (and sweet lord, not my last) curry). As soon as we land in Bangalore (also Bengaluru for some strange reason), I feel a warm gust of wind welcome me off the plane and then BAM! a very foreign smell smack me right in my westernized face! It was truly a pungent odor but after five minutes or so, I just sort of got used to it.

We headed straight to our hotel so we could get some sleep in before we went to the office. We get a cab to Leela Palace and holy hell, it's the nicest hotel I've ever been to in my life (I fly first class but then stay in roach motels - evens things out on the money and culture front). The place was uber opulent - super high ceilings, three restaurants, rose petal fountains and giant chandeliers, men dressed in formal Indian attire opening our doors (I tried really hard not to make any verbal references to The Little Princess but I broke down after about 10 minutes. My coworker looked at me like I was severely mentally challenged).

Leela Palace: They do not mess around

Anyway we head up to our respective rooms which were also breathtaking - gorgeous view, super spacious, large sitting area, huge bathroom with a jacuzzi, etc, etc. Anyway it was one of those situations where I was working so much I didn't get to take advantage of anything which sort of sucked but it was still a baller hotel and one which I hope my company feels the need to send me to sometime in the future.

So we wake up after a five hour nap feeling pretty disoriented. We get in a cab and head to the tech park where the Yahoo offices are located. If anyone has read White Tiger (if you haven't, go do it now, you uncultured slob) it's set in Bangalore and the main character in the book talks about seeing the giant Yahoo! sign outside the airport and doing something rather lude to it. Anyway the Yahoo offices are located in the tech park along with a million other giant companies that have outsourced their customer service and engineering work to India. Apparently Bangalore used to be a retirement destination but has since turned into the mecca for Indian tech headquarters. So anyway, needless to stay the place was sterile and concrete jungle like and not really culturally enriching but whatevs.

So we meet the engineers that are working on the new site and get straight to work. The guys there are literally the most affable, kind and sweet men I’ve ever met – they’re so smiley and without sounding horrifically condescending, really adorable. They do this head shake thing that is the most transfixing, amazing thing ever. It’s like ‘no’ headshake but it’s as if their head and neck are separate entities – like a Dwight boblehead. It’s hypnotic and I am SO jealous that I can’t do it.

The other hilarious thing to mention is that my coworker and I are both rather tall (get ready for it) white women. The men in southern India are predominately short and, surprisingly, not white. I also packed in a rather culturally ignorant fashion and when I showed up to the office wearing a dress (of an appropriate length) I realized that you if you’re a chick in India, don’t be showing off those legs. There are like 1,000 + employees at the Bangalore office (including some women), so in a sea of modesty, I felt like a big, white, slaggy oaf in front of these small, brown, head shaking men.

I wore jeans for the rest of the week even though it was 30+ degrees outside.

So work was work not much to say there – ate a lot of bomb ass curry and then had to deal with my weak ass digestive system. Tried some good stuff and some bad stuff and some stuff that I wouldn’t even be able to identify if I was in front of the high commission of curry leaders but mostly, food was good. Didn’t drink a ton (STOP THE PRESSES) and also didn’t sleep a lot. I needed a vacation from my work vacation.

On Friday we got on a tiny ass plane and headed to Kerala - a state in the south western part of India. It’s a tourist spot and espouses a richer and more culturally dynamic travel experience than the concrete tech prison of Bangalore. Our brethren over in Bangalore actually organized the whole trip for us, got us a sweet discount and called us practically every hour on the hour to see if we’d gotten on the plane, gotten off the plane, eaten, slept, had a bowel movement, etc. Anyway they were super sweet but like so over the top hospitable it made me feel bad about myself. If they had come to the UK and needed help, I probably would have told them where to go shove it. But they would honestly walk in front of traffic for you, even if they only met you two days ago. Anyway they were super helpful and I was beyond appreciative of their kindness.

So, we land in Kerala and it is GODDAMN hot. Must have been 45 degrees and I was DYING. So we go outside and see a million dudes holding signs and then I see MY NAME ON A SIGN! Ohmigod I felt like a really important business person or a mafia boss or something. Anyway they spelt my name wrong, but that’s besides the point. So we meet Vinesh who we quickly realize is going to be our guide/driver/super head shaker for the rest of the journey.

He should be in India GQ (if it exists)

So we get in our sweet air conditioned car and drive five hours to the top of goddamn mountain! I also see an elephant on the side of the road on the way up there and make Vinesh stop so I can be a big dumb north American and get my picture taken with him. It’s actually a momma elephant and she has a chain on her leg and I immediately feel awful about the whole thing. But then I touch it and look like I have a touch of the downs and now seeing this picture, it makes it so much better.

Mama, you know I love you.

So we continue driving and get to our resort and it is looking nothing like our sweet Leela palace but it’s definitely better then the last hotel we say in (ohhh, forboding forshadowing!). Anyway, it’s nighttime when we settle in so we go and eat some curry for dinner. Sidenote: I love curry as much as the next currylover, but man, six days of curry does some weird shit to your digestive tract. Honestly if I even looked at a curry my stomach started screaming expletives at me. So I tried to stick to like the carb friendly non-dishes-made-with-10-million-spices stuff. What’s with that anyway? It’s like some competition to see how many effing spices they can get in one dish – we get it, you like SPICES. Stop abusing my internal organs.

Alright enough of my ignorant ramblings. So we wake up the next morning and BAM the view from our bedroom is incredible. We are 1500 feet up and looking down on dozens of tea plantations which are beautiful. We are literally in the clouds. It was quite amazing and the pictures don’t do it justice but the roads are rickety as hell and you feel like you just might die by-passing and swerving around cars on this narrow-ass road, but then you get up there and you’re like damn, almost dying was totally worth it! So Vinesh, who slept in his car (I felt really weird about this. Do we offer him our shower? Or to drive? Maybe I could take over on the head-shaking for a while? Give it up, Patsy, you suck. It’s never going to happen. SHUT UP BRAIN) collects us and we head to a wildlife park.

I was really excited because I expected like lions and tigers and shit to just jump out and start some parade that was musically accompanied like that scene from Aladdin when price Ali Ababwa rolls into town (my knowledge and understanding of other cultures is absolutely reprehensible thanks to Hollywood movies). All we saw were some dumb goats and a snake.

Goats are stupid.

We also befriended a group of young Indian boys who asked us off the bat if we were married – retrospectively I should have stirred the pot and said I was part of a lesbian polygamist sect but instead I said something really clever like ‘no’ and then they wouldn’t leave me alone the whole time and took a million pictures of us and took pictures in ridiculous poses and took my sunglasses and treated us like caged animals. It’s funny because in North America, doing that to a foreigner would be social suicide, but in India I just had to smile and laugh while they took crotch shots and asked me for the 50^th time to pose with them. Ah, so culturally enriching.

Anyway we peaced out of that LAME ass park and then went to a tea plantation. We watched some propaganda about how the British helped the Indians start the tea trade and farm their land and they helped them with medical benefits and built up their towns and everyone lived in absolutely harmony and no one was every abused or died at their hands and butterflies and unicorns frolicked in the tea fields while a rainbow glistened in the background.

Now go to the gift shop and buy some goddamn tea.

Then we did some shopping in the downtown district which was crazy – dirt roads and Indian flags and people trying to rip off foreigners and fruit stalls and poverty and more poverty and cashews (they have the best goddamn nuts in India. No lie. Make your jokes, I don’t even care because I ate the meatiest, saltiest, curriest cashews and you didn’t).

Then we headed back to our hotel for a little rest and then out again to see a traditional Kerala dance. I won’t even go into it cause it was weird as hell but they have these elaborate costumes and put on this like Indian Opera where they don’t sing or talk but they kind of like use facial expressions to communicate. I’ll be honest, I was scared.

I know I'm ignorant

After that we went to get a traditional ayurvedic massage. I won’t go into details because there are some things I won’t disclose on here but it was fully the most unwanted intimate experience I’ve ever had. I was on the whole Swedish train, expecting them to rub my back, maybe some music, maybe even a sprinkle of oil. This was a litre of oil, wooden board and absolutely no discretion about no-no areas. Then I sat in a steam bath trying to retain some of my shame. Then I had the most awkward shower out of a bucket with a bowl that if possible, made me feel even dirtier. Then I vowed to myself never ever EVER to have an ayurvedic massage again.

So the next day we got in our car (Vinesh slept there again – are you SURE you don’t want me to take over on the head shaking? COME ON). Then we had a five hour journey to the backwaters where we would meet our houseboat!

We arrive and it’s SO EFFING HOT MY HEAD IS GOING TO EXPLODE. I have never been this hot in my life. I am pale girl with welsh heritage and a penchant for whining and bitching about everything so extreme heat is like the catalyst for EXTREME complaining. Anyway we get on the boat which is awesome – huge, open, big bedroom, a kitchen and a giant dining and seating area. We have a crew of three – a driver, a cook and an engineer. We are going to drive for a couple hours, dock the boat, then get up in the morning and drive back.

I was on a boat!

I slather on SPF infinity and read my book (follow up to White Tiger; don’t read it, dude lost his mojo). I have a nap and then we stop and buy some mammoth shrimp that look like lobsters from the side of the boat. Then we have to make an illegal beer run because we NEED beer. How can you be on a boat with balmy weather on a river and not crack open a sweet cold beer. So our crew wrangle up some beer and we pass the time chatting, taking pictures, playing cards, blasting some tunes. It was most definitely my favourite experience. We docked the boat and took a swim which was AMAZING – though we went in our clothes because again, Indian woman don’t peel off into bikinis and our crew was a bunch of dudes so we took the safe route. Then we had a DELICIOUS dinner (those giant shrimps are the BOMB – best lobster shrimp I have ever eaten – anyone else think of Bubba from Forrest Gump when I wrote that? Just me? OK then. Then we played cards with the crew and got SCHOOLED in Gin Rummy. They don’t speak English but they will DESTROY you in cards. Then we headed to bed after a lightening storm and incredible sunset.

Ain't she a beaut?

We woke up the next day and headed back to the meeting place after a monsoon-like rainfall. Vinesh picked us up, dropped us off at the airport (we gave him a big ass tip and he looked super happy which made me happy and then sad that he never let me do the head shake).

We got on our plane back to Bangalore and stayed in the SEEDIEST motel ever. Our buddy from the Yahoo office had set it up. From the outside, Tranquil Suites (the sketchy places always name it something sinister sounding like that. It’s like Tranquil Suites: We’ll kill you in your sleep!) seemed alright. But when we got to our little unit, it was clear someone had been living there and just like moved out for the night. His stuff was in the closet and in the bathroom. The bathroom was a filth hole that hadn’t been cleaned and the bed looked dirty and had one thin ass blanket for the both of us. We got out of there to grab dinner and ended meeting some Australians who were filming a bollywood movie. They were crazy-insane and the girl with them with them was this leggy blonde tanned British chick who was wearing the shortest skirt I had ever seen and I was amazed someone could dress like that in a country like India. Anyway we got pretty wasted and got back to our hotel at like 1 am. We slept for a couple of hours and then woke up to catch our 6 am flight back to London. When Hazel got up she screamed and said there was a cockroach in the bathroom - I looked in and the fucker was like the size of my fist. I freaked out and wouldn’t go to the bathroom and held it til we got to the airport. I like to consider myself a country girl at heart – I don’t mind spiders and most bugs but cockroaches are the nastiest creatures in the world and they give me the heebie geebies in a terrifying way. So Ileft India being totally disgusted but I will definitely go back again – maybe Goa or Mumbai or do the Himalayas but definitely not back to TRANQUIL FUCKING SUITES.

Alright this was a long one and if you read all the way down here, you must really love me. We have another long weekend this weekend I have no plans really and Franca is gone so I will be doing it on the fly and hopefully have interesting things to write about when I get back.

Have a fantastic weekend in Canada land (or wherever you are) and I will write back sooner this time (no two week+ delay – I promise).

Cheers,

Patsy

Outrageous!

The infamous 'chav'

OK well I really have no excuse, this blog post is horrendously late and to the all parties involved, I apologize. I don't really have an excuse except I'm lazy and got drunk all week and then when I wasn't drunk I was too hungover to flex the writing muscle. I am hungover now but I am writing this because I owe it to my new British family (suckers) and those who find some kind of enjoyment out of these rambling posts.

Completely self-absorbed side note: I have to say I am completely overwhelmed with the compliments and accolades I have received from everyone about this blog. Some days I really do not want to write in here because I feel like I have nothing of note to write about. But then I realize if I stopped, it'd be like giving up on every other hobby in my life (I did play a mean alto sax. Take a seat, Lisa Simpson). And then I get these wonderful, sincere compliments and it makes me think alright Patsy, you suck it up and write that blog post! People are wasting their time reading about your life. And people value those 6-7 unproductive work hours each day - you should feel blessed they managed to squeeze you in next to their marathon sessions of Bejeweled and catching up on thisiswhyyourefat.com.

OK, so I'll start with last weekend

Let me set the scene for this weekend. Franca and I had been invited to Essex to visit Jono and Huggie and their children Militant and Benedict (not their real names - they've asked to remain anonymous). So Franca and I booted it from work on Friday, took the train to Kelvedon to begin, what was sure to be, an absolute shit show of a weekend.

We arrive and meet the adults (the dictators were misbehaving so they were sent to bed) and we cracked open the first of many, many bottles of wine and sat down to an absolutely delicious homemade dinner of shepherd's pie. We chatted about work and life and their two pubs (more of that later) and Huggie went to bed as she wasn't feeling well and we stayed up until the sun came up (around 5 am) polishing off 9 bottles of wine and effectively destroying whatever was left of our livers. The next day, Franca, with her incessant positive outlook on life, tried to justify that those three bottles each were consumed over the whole night, so it was OK. I assured her that no medial professional in their right mind would ever think consuming three bottles of wine a night was acceptable. (Unless they were Dr. unk. Get it? HAHA)

Alright so anyways, it's really hard writing this from memory because my long term (and let's be real here, short term) memory are pretty much as useless as my liver at this point in the game. Anyway Saturday we woke up and thought it would be a great idea to go to the grocery store even though Jono, Franca and I were still very much drunk. The grocery store was hilarious - Essex, if you don't know, isn't exactly the cultural mecca of England. If I had to compare it to something in Canada, I might say it's like Brantford or some other place of ill repute (sorry Clarke family - I feel like now that I've been let into the clan, I can make fun of where we live). Anyway, in England they call white trash 'Chavs' and their essentially tasteless men and women with questionable fashion sense who partake in none of that posh, crumpet eating, tea drinking, haughty talking Englishness you prejudice Canadians seem to believe in. Anyway we managed to see a couple of these majestic creatures at Tescos and man, oh man, was it hilarious. One woman actually came up to me as I was looking at the bottles of spray salad dressing (I don't even...). Anyway she voluntarily told me how her son loves that stuff because you don't have to put it in the fridge after you use it. I then looked at the directions on the bottle and it read: refrigerate immediately after first use. Precious.

So we head home and guess what? We mix up some delicious bloody mary's and start on lunch when Jono and Huggie's friends come over to join us. Wine is flowing, food is delicious and I'm beginning to feel the effects of my hangover in an immediate and aggressive fashion. I slyly slip upstairs and take a well needed nap. When I come to a couple hours later, I realize it's close to dinner time and we'll be going to one of Jono and Huggie's pub, The Compasses, for dinner. So we rally the troops. I am horrified to learn Franca has drunkenly been teaching the children math, while poppa bear, the dignified gentleman he is, is passed out on a chair watching Happy Feet. We finally wrangle the crew and head out.

The pub is beautiful - a more upscale version of what you would expect from a British pub. No old musty carpets and pork pies on the menu. This place is classy and food isn't just something you use to soak up the massive quantity of ale you've consumed. I had fish cakes to start and Chateaubriand for my main course and it was absolutely superb. The wine was also excellent (but I mean, I don't really descriminate when it comes to alcohol) but the children were tired so we headed home after dinner for an early night - which turned into a 3:30 am drinking session - yet again. Probably the best part of that night was Jono convincing me this unlabeled bottle of wine was some ridiculous expensive, perfectly aged Burgundy when it happened to be some 3 quid grape juice that they made down the road and reeked of sulfur. I also thought the air vent from their oven was a toaster. Sorry for slowly killing you, brain.

Sunday we awoke to - you guessed it - booze and food (it's a tough life we lead. Really quite awful. You wouldn't want any part of it). This time we head to their other pub, The Swan, for a nice afternoon lunch! We start off with a delicious mix of starters and then move into the dining area for the main course. This was place a little more casual but no less wonderful. I ordered fish and chips which were delicious! A whole piece of fish smothered in beer batter and deep fried golden brown, crispy chips served in a mini deep fry pot (so cute) and mushy peas (which apparently you get here with fish and chips. I won't question it though because they clearly know what is up when it comes to this particular dish). Anyway more wine was had and conversation was great and before we knew it, it was time to head back on that train and get back to our flat. Franca and I are literally over-fed, hungover zombies at this point and barely make it through our door before we pass out entirely. The weekend was relaxing, the company was exceptional and the food and wine were amazing (and not just because they were free!) So to Jono and Huggie who I know are reading this and are now thoroughly disgusted by the blatant and unapologetic ass-kissery of this blog post - thank you! You were wonderful, patient, kind and so generous to add two more large, misbehaving children to your brood. We appreciate it sincerely.

So after that my week was busy! Wednesday I had my first softball game with Yahoo! UK which was fun (even though we lost). Met a bunch of Americans at my office and some sales people whom I hadn't met before so that was fun. We played in Regents Park and it was absolutely beautiful - great weather and they had seven baseball pitches which was really cool. I didn't even know they played softball out here but I guess it's more of a corporate community building thing than a cherished national pastime. Anyway we went to the pub afterward and got pretty annihilated (apparently it's not OK to bring your own beer into a pub patio. Lesson learned). Thursday I met up with Natasha who is heading to Amsterdam and Spain via London so we had too many drinks, sushi and a great catch up.

Friday night I watched The Wire and went to bed early because I had to get ready to go shopping for my India trip the next day! Saturday I did my shopping and then went out with a friend for drinks and dinner at Embankment and it was wonderful - sat with a bottle of wine overlooking the river and The London Eye. Then we went to dinner at this Spanish restaurant which was delicious. Anyway, the night was great and I woke up this morning feeling slightly hungover but I packed and checked in for my flight and I leave for Bangalore tomorrow at 2 pm! I actually can't believe I am leaving in 14 hours. In fact, by the time you're at work tomorrow - I'll be in a plane on my way to Hindustan! I'll be working form the Bangalore office until Friday and then catch a flight to Kerala to sit on a house boat for three days! We get a chef and a captain and it sounds perfectly relaxing - I cannot wait! I collected my visa on Thursday, got all my shots on Friday (my doctor had to Google things and I got a little nervous - but I'm alive so that's a positive sign). I am all packed and ready to go and cannot wait. I am going to take tons of pictures and try and update as much as possible when I'm there but if for some reason I don't - I will give you a full debriefing (haha) when I'm back.

Alright kids - that's about it for me. Sorry this post took an eternity but you know, this genius needs time to stew and ferment - just like that well-aged bottle of sulphur wine Jono gave me.

Hope you're all doing well and have a fantastic week.

Cheers,

Patsy xoxo

Absolute rubbish!

An oldie, but a goodie!

Alright I’ve been absolute rubbish (or rubbage, as Franca would say. Her creative interpretation of the English [and British English] language never fails to amuse me) at updating this bad boy. Mostly it’s because I’ve had a week of being rather dull and lazy.

I feel like I haven’t stopped since I got here: job hunting, flat hunting, attempting not to murder the various incompetent customer service employees I’m forced to interact with on a daily basis. Plus I have to fit in at least 5 days of drinking every week – it’s a lot for a girl to take on! Plus I was in Sussex, Rome and Essex this weekend so I decided to be a total and absolute sloth last weekend and boy, was it ever wonderful.

Every time the sun comes out, the Brits take a bank holiday, so we had a long weekend this weekend which was quite glorious. Pretty sure a four day work week is standard here and it’s just one more thing I like about the European lifestyle – no one works and everyone is drunk constantly. Stop the presses - I've found heaven!

Friday I went out for work drinks which was alright but I have to say, the Yahoo crew over here isn’t nearly as fun the one back home. Everyone here is older and they’re in ‘long-term relationships' and talk about their gardens and weight watchers points and babies – all things that make me want to impale myself with my yahoo branded pen.

Anyway sometimes they venture across the street to this nasty ass pub called the Marquis de Granby for a pint. Literally, they work in Covent Garden – one of the most bustling, bar-heavy areas in the whole world and they choose to go to this grubby hole in the wall to get soused. I don’t understand it but I do drink their free beer so I guess I should stop complaining.

Then I met up with Franca for drinks and dinner to celebrate her new job at the BBC (I won’t get into how she got offered a job after one interview and I went for months before an employer would even send me a rejection email). Anyway, repress the rage and be happy! But no really, she wasn’t happy at her last job so I’m glad she found something new and so quickly! We had some Italian for dinner (a throw back to Rome) and then headed to our haunt, The New Rose, on Essex Road. We stayed for a pint and then left for our beds and a sweet lie in the next day.

Saturday we cleaned the whole shoebox and then I downloaded a bunch of old Disney movies I’ve had a hankering to watch lately (Aladdin, The Lion King and Beauty and the Beast). Managed to watch all of those over the weekend and man, does Disney know what is up when it comes to family entertainment! Still get a little teary eyed during that Mufasa scene (damn you, Scar! You two timing son of a jackal!) Saturday night we went out for tapas and then hit up a bunch of pubs, met a giant group of football players and headed home relatively early for more sleep.

Sunday I continued to veg and then went out for great Italian food with Ryan and Jenny. Hit up a pub up the street and downed martinis all night (they were pricey and a piece of boozy heaven!) Monday was more relaxing and then surprise, surprise – out for more drinks!

So yah, pretty exciting, eh? This is what you get when you demand a blog post – lots of mundane shit about a totally normal existence. You think my life is glitzy and glamorous ALL the time? Come on, I can’t be expected to be on every day of my life! Sometimes I sit around and eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches in my sweatpants and watch old episodes of Dr. Phil. Deal with it.

This weekend I am off to Essex to stay with family friends of Franca’s that we met up in Sussex (I’m getting around this country!). We are going to eat and drink and revive our Franks and Sense routine (apparently Millie has been counting down the days til out sleepover since we last saw them. ‘Three more sleeps!’ – just disgustingly adorable! Who knew a child could love a person with a heart as black and a liver as damaged as mine?

So Monday I will have a full report with exciting things (like eating and drinking, which I clearly never discussed in this post). I leave for India next Monday (a little late on applying for the Visa and apparently I need some inoculations before I go so I am coming to realize I am disastrously unprepared for this journey). So there will be more posts where I wear sweatpants in different places and eat different variations on the peanut butter and jelly sandwich!

Stay tuned friends and have a great weekend.

Cheers,

Patsy