Just kidding, just kidding, just kidding...

When I was in high school, I watched Saturday Night Live every week. That was back in the days with the hilarious Chris Farley and Mike Meyers. I stopped watching every week, but on occassion I caught a few funny episodes with Will Farrell (We need more cowbell!) and Molly Shannon here and there.

With Andy gone, my Saturday nights have not been super exciting, and the past few weeks I've started watching SNL once again. Granted, I DVR it and then record through the not-so-clean skits, but I have found a new favorite on good old SNL - Kristen Wiig.

I first saw her as "Penelope" when Amy Adams was hosting (yes, I missed her first two seasons and am now catching her in reruns). She's done a really great Suze Orman and a hilarious Jamie Lee Curtis in an Activa commercial. But by far the best character I've seen her do so far is as "Judy Grimes" on the Weekend Update.

Check her out I hope you enjoy her as much as I did. I laughed so hard I cried. Just kidding, I didn't. Just kidding, I can't cry. Just kidding, I can, just kidding, just kidding just kidding...

Can you make sense of this?

"The maximum number of voice compression channels supported, using IP500 VCM base cards and/or IP400 VCM cards on IP500 Legacy Card Carriers, is 128."

This is a sentence in a course I am currently instructionally designing at work. Did I write it? Uh, no. What does it mean? I'm not sure I could even tell you. My Subject Matter Expert (SME) in all things technical gave me some rough content, and I'm supposed to look at it and decide how it should be changed to be more clear. Can you change this sentence to be more clear?

Some days (like today), while I'm working, I have to stop and wonder what I'm doing. My career has (and many days fulfills) the potential to be incredibly boring. Sometimes it has been exciting, like when I was creating training for Valvoline and got to go down in the oil-change pit to see how they did it. Or the time I got to work on dealer training for BMW dealerships. And other times, it's all I can do not to staple my own finger, just to check that I'm still alive. (Yes, I am aware that there are probably less painful ways to determine my alive-ness, but I'm going for something a little more dramatic here.)

About an hour prior to reading this sentence, I sat on a last-minute conference call with my team at work. Three people on my team were laid off last Friday. This follows five whose contracts were not renewed in April. Of course, now everyone wonders: Am I next?

Corporate America has many great things - lots of money, working with really smart, driven, and accomplished people, free fitness centers, company cafeterias. (Okay, that last one can be hit or miss, but I've been to some pretty good cafeterias, namely at Sun Microsystems.) But today, after the second round of people were dismissed (in a most kind and apologetic sort of way of course), I sat here wondering what in the heck I'm doing in this career.

And then I looked out my living room window and remembered that I get to work at home, in my pajamas, with some pretty cool people (what's left of them of course). I get flexible hours, great pay, and I get to hear the birds chirping all day long and take walks through my neighborhood at lunchtime. I save money on gas because I don't drive into the office often, and I have access to a free gym. A lot of people would love to have those things. So for now, and for as long as it lasts, I will be grateful that I have such a great job. Even if I can't make sense of most of the jargon that comes my way.

A few things that make me happy

I love getting letters in the mail. Actual "I was thinking of you and thought I'd mail you this letter" letters. Even better than letters are packages. Getting a package you know is on its way is exciting, but the very best thing of all is to get a surprise package - one that is completely unexpected.

Yesterday did not disappoint. I came home late last night to find this little treasure in my mailbox, from one of my oldest and dearest friends.

Not only was it a surprise package, but it contained something to add to my (very small) collection of decorative letter As. I was so excited to find this in my mailbox yesterday, I did a little happy dance in my living room when I unwrapped it. Thanks, Janene, for seeing something that reminded you of me, and popping it in the mail. This made my day!

What I'm coveting now

The thought occurred to me today that this Kindle would have been really nice to have for my trip to India. Rather than dragging along seven books, I could have taken just the Kindle, which holds over 200 titles, and is very lightweight. I know my neck and back would have appreciated the lightened load; after lugging around all those books, I had huge knots in my neck. I'm definitely saving my money for a Kindle - what a brilliant idea!

The long flight home

Day 13: Thursday May 8, 5:30 am - Chicago International Airport

I made it - I'm back in America! That was the longest flight ever, and I did not think I was going to survive. The first five hours were fraught with turbulence, very rough turbulence, and eventually it calmed down. It was supposed to take only 14 hours, but it took us about 16 hours. Yuck.

And on this flight, I didn't even have Tetris to distract me - just a couple of movies and two noisy kids sitting next to me.

Despite all this, I was so grateful to walk off the plane and be in America. Now we just need to get Andy back over here.

India Andy

When I was with Andy in India, he carried the camera, so there are quite a few pictures of me. Well, since I don't like having my picture taken, there aren't a lot of pictures of me, but there are definitely more pictures of me than of him. I'm so glad that the people he is with have been taking pictures of him, because I think he's just adorable, er, I mean ruggedly handsome.


People are always telling Andy he just smiles so much. One of the things I love about him is his smile. Sometimes we'll be sitting there, and I'll look over at him, and he's got this big grin on his face. I love it! So I was quite pleased to go through the pictures on his camera and find these gems.
I thought I'd post them, so everyone can enjoy my India Andy.





Andy, I love ya, and I can't wait until your smiling face comes back home!

I have to say something about my hair in India

I am so vain when it comes to my hair. I don't have particularly great hair - it is either partially curly, or partially straight. It takes so much product and equipment to get it to look halfway decent, but I obsess over it every morning. Perhaps it stems back to my troubled youth, where I endured so many perms I eventually took drastic measures to completely straighten it, lest I continue looking like an electrocuted poodle.

I talked to Mandy about how I was going to do my hair in India. I hate nothing more than to have a photo album full of vacation pictures of me with nappy hair. Should I take my hair dryer? Will I be able to use my flat iron? Mandy assured me that as long as I had an adapter, I'd be fine.

Um, obviously the hair dryer and flat iron did not work, and I feel I need to let you know that yes, I am fully aware that my hair looks terrible. My hair is naturally curly-ish, which has the potential to be really great. However, it's curly in some spots, completely stick-straight in others, and frizzy all-around. This is not a good combination for vacation-with-no-working-hair-dryer-or-flat-iron-hair. But now that I've posted all these pictures, I want to take you through my vacation-hair journey, and to the point where I just gave up.

Bad Hair Day 1: Andy's hotel in Delhi

After my shower, I plugged my hair dryer into Andy's adapter. Okay, it's working, wait, it's slowly petering out. It's getting quieter, drying more slowly...crap. Am I going to break his adapter? So I took a break from drying and plugged in my flat iron to let it warm up. Not wanting to break my hair dryer, I decided to just put my hair in a bun and flat iron my bangs. I hate having bangs when I can't straighten my hair - I get these curly q's at my temples, and it's just not good. So I decide, "Okay, I'll wear a bun today and try again tomorrow."

Hair on day 1: I'm not loving it, but at least the bangs are straight.

Bad Hair Day 2: Our hotel in Agra

I attempted to blow dry my hair again, but the dryer petered out. I thought, "If I can just get my bangs dry, I'll be okay." When I plugged in my flat iron, the red light flashed on and then off and then - zap! Crap - could I have possibly blown a fuse? No, it's probably just not working with the adapter, right? One more bun, and this time, I had to pin my bangs out of the way.

Hair on day 2: Grrr....

Bad Hair Day 3: Our Hotel in Jaipur

I'm not even going to take a picture here, because it just looks so bad. I don't know why I even brought my hair dryer and flat iron; at this point, all they are doing is taking up space and making Mintu curse when he lifts my heavy luggage into and out of the car. Sorry, Mintu.

Hair on day 3: Can't I just shave my head? I think they do that in India. I guess that would make it pointless for me to be dragging around this hair dryer and flat iron.

Bad Hair Day 4: Our Hotel in Udaipur

I have accepted the fact that my hair is going to be in a perma-bun while on this vacation. It actually doesn't look too bad here, and I think that maybe I have found peace and acceptance in my frizzy bun, but once I arrive at Lake Palace and see all the women with shiny, straight hair, I glower with envy at their coiffed shininess.

Hair on day 4: Okay, I accept it. It's really not too bad. And besides, maybe they'll have hair dryers and working adapters at Lake Palace.

Bad Hair Day 5: Lake Palace in Udaipur

When we get to our room, Andy was so excited to tell me that there is a hair dryer. I can't wait until after my swim to blow-dry and straighten my hair. Did I mention how vain I am? I blow-dry my hair, and it is straight, but still a little poufy and frizzy. And I still have those curly-q's at my temples. No worry, I can plug in my flat iron. Um, except it's not working. I really blew a fuse a few days ago, and it won't work! Now I'm completely hosed. I think Andy is surprised how mad I can get just because my hair looks like crap, but I try to smile through my frustration and thank him for fudging with the adapter to get my flat iron working, although to no avail. In the morning after my head massage, my hair is shiny with grease. I didn't have time to wash it before we had to check out, so all day long, it's like a shellacked helmet, sticky and immovable. Uh, all right. I guess at least now it's shiny...

Hair on day 5: Ew.

Bad Hair Days 6, 7, 8, and 9: Goa

I give up. I wanted to look my best for Andy, for him to see his wife as he remembered me - straight, mostly shiny hair, brown streaked with golden highlights. But there is absolutely nothing I can do about this mop. Pinned in a frizzy bun, it will stay until I return to America. You can't even see my highlights.

Hair on days 6 through 9: We're at the beach, so I really don't even care.

Bad Hair Day 10: Delhi

What a mess. I can't believe I have to wear this hairdo on a 19 hour flight from Delhi to Chicago, and Chicago to Denver. Not only does it look awful, it is going to be so uncomfortable to lean back against my seat.

Hair on day 10: I can't wait to wash, dry, and iron my hair. Only 24 more hours!

Good Hair Day 1: Colorado

I can't take a picture of myself, but trust me, my hair looks good. Although I did blow a fuse, and my flat iron is no longer working. At least it's straight, somewhat shiny, and I'm feeling like myself again.

Our day in Delhi

Wednesday May 7, 8:00 pm - On the way to the Delhi International Airport

Once we got the luggage out of the way, we could spend the day sightseeing and shopping around Delhi. We decided to go to the place where Mohandas ("Mahatma") Ghandi was cremated. This was a lovely breath of fresh air - a clean, green park in the middle of dirty, stinky Delhi. Once more, we had to remove our shoes, since it was a sacred place, and we walked around the park.

There was this memorial to Ghandi, and a lovely pink tree that I immediately became smitten with.




We did some souvenir shopping, and then decided we wanted an American lunch, so we asked our driver to take us to the Ruby Tuesday's. Oh my gosh, I was salivating at the thought of American food! Unfortunately, Ruby Tuesday's was closed, so we settled for TGI Friday's.

I wish we had taken pictures of the wait staff here, because they were so cute. They were these Indian guys, dressed to the hilt in full-on TGI Friday's attire - vests, buttons (Andy said, "They even wear their flair here!" - too funny), and complete with cowboy hats. I think we were so mesmerized by the possibility of a decent cheeseburger and all the American decorations on the wall, that we weren't even able to even think about taking a picture. Of course, the burgers were lamb, so I settled for a fried chicken sandwich that was pretty good. We also had the fried macaroni and cheese appetizer, which was the best.

After eating, we drove to the airport. The best sight was on the way - this little lady, cruising down the street, all bedecked in pink, to match her moped. Too cute! Ravi sped up so we could get a picture of her.

All in all, a pretty good day in Delhi, despite the fact that I am about to say goodbye to Andy for five weeks.

How many suitcases can you fit in a bicycle rickshaw?

Day 12: Wednesday May 7, 11:00 am - The entrance to Tara House Hotel, Delhi

While Andy and the crew went on vacation for 10 days, there was no way they were taking all their gear and luggage with them. They stored it all at a TV station in Delhi. Andy realized that he had a lot of stuff in this stored luggage that he wanted to send back with me, so we offered to go to the TV station and pick up everyone's luggage.

When Pointer heard this, he laughed and said good luck. He said there were eight bags (heavy), and that it took a few of them four trips to get it from their hotel to the car. You are not able to drive up to their hotel in Delhi. All the drivers park at the end of this long road, which leads you to an alley, and the hotel is at the back of the alley (the Diagon Alley alley mentioned in previous posts). I was not looking forward to getting all these bags from the TV station to the hotel.

Well, as we were unloading them from the car, this rickshaw driver said he could fit all eight of their bags, plus our three bags, in his rickshaw. We thought if he could do it, let's let him! It was such an amazing feat we had to capture it. Here he is with our driver for the day, Ravi. Ravi is on the left (the happy one in the uniform), and the Amazing Bicycle Rickshaw Wonder Driver is on the right. That thing was packed to the gills!

Turbulance from Goa to Delhi

Tuesday May 6, 8:00 pm - IndiGo flight, from Goa to Delhi

Today we left Goa. This makes me sad, not just because we are leaving the beach (and one of the best parts of this vacation), but because it means I'll be leaving India and Andy very soon. It has been so nice to see him and spend time with him. Being with him makes me realize just how much I've missed him, and I think I'll miss him even more once I'm home.

After hanging out at Pointer's pool one more time, we headed to the airport to catch our flight to Delhi. This time, we all walked out the plane, instead of taking a bus.

The weird thing was that when we got on the plane, there was all this steam in the top of the cabin. I don't know if that's because it was so cold on the plane and so hot outside, or what, but it was pretty cool (ha ha - no pun intended).

Beware of falling coconuts

The first day we were here, Pointer told us about a thumping noise he'd hear every once in a while. He said he'd be sitting there, everything really quiet, and all of the sudden, THUMP! He realized it was coconuts falling from the trees. We then had a lengthy discussion about how deadly this could be - you could be sitting under a shady coconut tree, minding your own business, when out of nowhere, THUMP! A coconut beans you on the head and you're dead.

Well, after that conversation, Andy became very aware (and possibly afraid of) falling coconuts. He went so far as to move his lounge chair out from underneath one. And everywhere we'd go, he kept an eye out for falling coconuts.

While I teased him about it a little bit, I am glad he was not taking the possibility of death so lightly.

Making naan

Day 11: Tuesday May 6, 3:00 pm - Sunny Side Up restaurant, Candolim Beach, Goa

One of the best parts about Indian food is the garlic naan, a type of flatbread with butter and garlic slathered all over it. I have eaten more than my share since we've been in Goa. While we were eating lunch at the Sunny Side Up restaurant, Andy talked the cooks into teaching him how to make garlic naan.

Good thing Pointer was there to take pictures, because quite frankly, Andy's camera frightens me. I'm always afraid I'll break it or do something wrong. Pointer got some great pictures of Andy making naan.

First, he pounded the dough flat with his fingertips.

Then, he flipped it up in the air, like making pizza dough. I love this picture, because Pointer really captured Andy's joyous smile. He is always so smiley, and I'm glad we have such a great picture.

After he had the dough at the right thickness, he slapped it on a beanbag-type thing that they use to put it into the tandoori oven. The tandoori oven is 120 degrees Celcius. That's flipping hot! So they slap the dough on this beanbag, and then use that to slap it into the oven. The dough just sticks to the side of the oven, where it cooks until it's done. Once it's done, it falls off.

Andy's naan was definitely a success. They gave him the recipe, which I brought home and am going to perfect by the time he comes home. Although now that I think about it, naan is probably the last thing he'll want to eat when he comes back from India.

Room service all day

Day 10: Monday May 5, 6:00 pm - Marbella Guest House

I know I said we had bad sunburns, but I didn't realize how bad. We stayed in our hotel room the entire day, just reading and watching TV. We could only lay side by side, not even able to touch each other, because we were in so much pain.

One exception: I did go to the spa in the hotel to get a manicure and pedicure. That was nice.

Sunday night at the movies

Sunday May 4, midnight - Panjim, Goa

Before he left for India, Andy ran down the list of all the summer movies he's going to miss because he'll be gone. One movie at the top of his list was Ironman. Imagine his delight when he was reading the paper at breakfast this morning, and saw that there is a movie theater in Panjim, the capital of Goa, about 45 minutes away. We talked to the cook at our hotel and he said it was a nice theater, and that the movie would be in English. Well, I have never seen Andy so happy - he was giddy, like a little kid at Christmas.

After dinner Sunday night, we got a cab (pretty much a deathcab), and made the drive to Panjim. Now, I have to say this cab ride was crazy. It completely reminded me of the Knight Bus in Harry Potter. We were riding in this VW-bus-type car, and the driver had music blaring, he was swerving all over the road, honking left and right - Indian Style Driving to the extreme! But we made it safely to the INOX theater, and proceeded to purchase our tickets.

A few things that are different about seeing a movie in India:

* They have assigned seating.

* They serve Indian food, in addition to popcorn (many flavors of popcorn, at that).

* They all stand and sing the Indian National Anthem before the movie starts.

* They have an intermission halfway through. The movie just stopped, everyone got up and went to concessions, and then five minutes later, the movie started back up again.

Despite the few oddities about the theater, the movie was awesome, and completely fulfilled Andy's desire for a good old American movie, complete with Robert Downey Jr. as a giant robot. I think for a couple of hours we even forgot we were sunburned.

Swimming in the Indian Ocean

Day 9: Sunday May 4, 3:00 pm - Candolim Beach, Goa

Today was a really great day, minus the fact that we both got second-degree sunburns. Initially, we planned on taking a cab into Panjim to go to church, but we found out our laundry wasn’t going to be ready until Sunday night, and neither of us had any clean clothes. So we decided to spend the day in our swim suits and head to the beach.

What a gorgeous beach (minus all the beggars and the garbage). It was just miles of sand and water (brown water, but oh well). We picked out a good spot with chairs and an umbrella, ordered some drinks, and planted ourselves with a good view of the old ship. Apparently, this ship has been sitting here for 10 years. It’s stuck, and no one can move it, so they’re just dismantling it, piece by piece, and throwing all the pieces in the ocean. Um, gross.

Anyway, I put on some sunscreen, and settled in to get some beachy sun, while Andy went into the ocean for a swim. While we were camped out, lots of women selling all sorts of stuff – paintings, sarongs, jewelry, you name it – came by, trying to get us to buy stuff. We kept saying no. For two hours, just "No, no, no." Then, finally, I told one of them I would look at her sarongs. Some of them were pretty cool, and I just wanted to look.

Well…saying yes to one, meant that all of them came rushing over, trying to get me to buy from all of them. They all sat at my feet, spread out their wares, and tried to convince me to buy not one, but two sarongs. Or two anklets, or two paintings. For heaven's sakes.

I bought one sarong from one girl, and got chewed out from another girl, who said she had approached me first and I told her no. I sat there, looking at their stuff and bartering the prices with them, for a good 30 minutes. They just flocked to us, and would not leave me alone.

This is how Pointer found us when he came walking down the beach - me, surrounded by women selling things, and Andy, standing off to the distance taking pictures of the whole thing. Eventually Pointer joined the haggling, and I think he got so worn out from it, he had to order a beer.

When we decided to leave the beach and get ready for lunch, we realized just how sunburned we were. Uh, so much for the sunscreen! I didn't put it on very well, because I was burned pretty badly on my hairline, parts of my legs, and on my back. Andy, however, was completely burned on his entire front side. He was purple! I guess he forgot that being near the water makes his chances of burning pretty high. Well, that coupled with the malaria pills we're on make us more susceptible to sunburn. I have never seen such a bad sunburn, poor guy. He looks pretty white here, but a couple of hours later, he was just fried. My little lobster.

On our way back to the hotel, we ran into this guy, hanging out on the roof. How random is that? After lunch we just cruised around town a bit, and met Pointer back at Santana's house for some prawns and mashed potatoes. So far, Santana has served us the best food in Goa.

Finally - fresh fruit

This entire trip I have been dying for some fresh fruit, but have been too afraid to eat it. Well, except for the apples at the Lake Palace Hotel. When we arrived at Marbella, I saw that they had fresh fruit on their menu, and decided to throw caution to the wind and order a fruit platter.

24 hours later when I still wasn't sick, I figured it was safe, and ordered a fruit platter with pineapple and papaya every morning for breakfast. It could not have been better or more fulfilling. Just look at the size of this papaya! And look how happy I am to be eating it!

Riding a death trap around Goa

We quickly realized that if we wanted to get around this place, we’d either have to walk or rent a moped. It’s just going to cost too much to get taxis everywhere, and auto rickshaws aren’t as available. Luckily, the traffic isn’t as bad as the cities, and we decide on a moped, or as we soon come to realize, a death trap.

Quite frankly, this frightens me just a bit, but Pointer rented one, so we figure, how hard can it be? When we go to the rental place, the guy doesn't ask for Andy's license; he just takes his money, gives him the key, fills up the tank with gas, and there we go. When Andy asked him how to start it, the guy says, "You've driven before?" Uh, sure. Andy says he's driven a motorcycle (lie), and they're not really that different, are they? Once he figured out what he's doing, he takes a practice drive down the road, leaving me standing there with the guys at the shop. I think they wondered if he was going to come back for me.

He did come back, and we took off on the moped, heading back to the hotel. I think it's hard for Andy to remember to drive on the left side of the road here, because when we turned a corner, he headed directly towards a huge bus, and barely swerved out of the way, careening around the corner. Maybe we should have rented two helmets?

It is pretty fun though, and it's nice to cruise around town with the breeze blowing through my hair. I just try to ignore all the locals who are laughing at the funny Americans who can't even drive on the correct side of the road.

I'm sure he'll get the hange of it soon. He does have the added stress of driving with my weight on the back. I'd say so far he's doing pretty good. I just have to say "Left side!" every once in a while to remind him.

Viva Goa!

Saturday May 3, 10:00 pm - Marbella Guest House near Candolim Beach, Goa

After leaving our shack, we manage to find the Marbella Guest House, a quaint little place with a lovely patio. The only thing wrong with it is there's no pool, but I think we'll survive. After checking in, we dropped off our laundry (which we have not washed in a week), put on our swimsuits and walk into town. We quickly realized that if we are going to get around in this town, we'll have to rent a moped. Uh...that should be interesting.

After a great lunch at a local place called Viva Goa, which was highly recommended in our guidebook, and I can see why. We had some awesome kingfish and french fries, (yes french fries - for heaven's sake, yum!), and then we drove down towards the beach. We knew that Jeff Pointer, one of the cameramen Andy's working with was in Goa. I was dying to go for a swim in a pool, so we thought we'd try to find his hotel, because we knew he had one. Oddly enough, while we're driving down the road, I spot a tall white guy on a moped - there was no mistaking him. What luck - Pointer!

Thank heavens for Pointer and his pool. We had a delightful swim, although I was surprised that the water was just not all that cold and refreshing - more like a lukewarm bath. Oh well, I'll take it. Here I am with Pointer in the pool - I'm the one in the pink swimsuit.

Pointer had been in Goa for quite a few days already, and was making friends with the locals. His neighbors across the street, Santana and his wife, have a little guest house and restaurant, but are also closed for the season. In Goa, the tourist season is from November through March, and now everyone was closing up and getting ready for the hote summer and monsoon season. Santana, however, was still cooking for Jeff and a few other people. We went over for some delicious grilled sea bass and some more french fries. Here we are with Santana and his wife - both wonderful cooks.

I think this is Andy's idea of a perfect vacation, and I have to agree.

This guy woke me up this morning

Day 8: Saturday May 3, 7:00 am - Goa, our little shack on the beach

This plucky mister crowed all morning long until I crawled out of bed to see what all the fuss was about. Turns out there's a lot to fuss over when you're staying in a shack on the beach.

The beach at this little "resort" is amazing! It's completely secluded, within walkable distance of the ocean (of course over a rickety bridge), and just gorgeous water. Too bad we have to leave for somewhere a little more safe and upscale, with laundry services, of course.

I found these silly Dr. Seussian plants growing everywhere outside our shack.

We can already tell we're going to like Goa. It's still a pretty dirty and a little smelly, just like the other parts of India we've visited, but the beauty of the ocean makes up for it. There is a lot of charm here, in this quaint little Portugese-influenced town. We're glad we decided to come here early, and will be here for a few days.

We're staying in a shack on the beach

Friday May 2, 11:30 pm - Goa, in a shack on the beach

A woman I work with, Vinita, is from India. When I asked her where we should go in India, she recommended Goa, her hometown. It's a beautiful beach town, with many beaches, fresh seafood, and a very relaxed atmosphere. Just what the doctor ordered.

After leaving the Lake Palace, we drove four hours to the airport in Ahmedabad. On the way I got to experience my first squat toilet on the way - um, I'm not interested in repeating that experience. In Ahmedabad, we said goodbye to Mintu and caught a plane to Goa. A few things about flying in India:

* They have separate security screenings for men and women. I stood in line behind Andy for almost a full minute, before I realized the men were telling me to go over to the women's line.
* You have to have a tag on all bags, not just your checked bags. After you go through security, they stamp the tag to let the people checking your ticket at the gate know that your bag has been screened. I found this out the hard way when no one told me to put a tag on my bag, and I had to go back through security.
* Everyone takes a bus or walks out to the plane. I know some airports in America do this, but it's definitely not the norm.

The plane ride wasn't too bad, except it left about an hour late, and they served some nasty spongy sandwich on the plane. Once we arrived in Goa, it took us an hour and 20 minutes to get to our shack.


Andy really wanted to stay in a hut on the beach, one so close to the beach that you could just walk out your front door and be at the ocean. I thought it sounded fun and romantic, so I decided to go along with the idea. At the Lake Palace, we booked a hut on a secluded beach. But when we got there (at 10:30 or 11:00 pm), they told us that they were closed for the season and didn't know how we booked a room because they weren't even taking Internet reservations. Uh, okay, but what do we do now?

They told us we could stay for the night, but they didn't have any laundry services or a restaurant. At this point, Andy has no more clean clothes, and is desparate for laundry services. We decided to stay for one night, and they showed us the tents. Yep, big camoflauge tents with zippers. Andy asked if they had anything more, um, permanent, and they showed us to our shack. Here's our shack - A5. Good thing we're just here for one night. Talk about two extremes - from the Lake Palace to a shack on the beach.