Shower, absolute shower!

Q. When is a waterfall, not a waterfall?
Too difficult?
Ok, I’ll try another…
Q. Why is it that when I go to the wettest place on earth, I almost get sunstroke?

You might have guessed that the both questions were a bit rhetorical. The answer to both might be climate change? Wooooaaaaah, hang on there. It’s not a serious blog, don’t run away. I was just thinking out loud. See what’s happened again? As soon as I start thinking, I upset literally thousa…hundre….tens…one or two folk!

Breakfast in Shillong. How often have you been able to say that eh? First time for me too despite it being the second time I’ve been here. I wasn’t going to bother with dinner in all honesty but they made me have it. I got downstairs for just on seven thirty. Jyoti was due at seven thirty and I was under strict instructions that we were off at that time. I paid my bar bill (God, how much??) and then they said those fatal words, “Have you had your complimentary breakfast yet?” I succumbed immediately. The lure of free food is just too great for a man to resist.

Soon we’re on the road and our first destination is Cherapunjee, high in the East Khasi hills. It was, until a couple of years back, reputed to be the wettest place on earth. Many years back I watched a channel 4 documentary on the place and it did nowt but wazz down all the time they were there. The locals wore great big bamboo woven baskets over their entire bodies to protect from the downpours. So with me living in the shadow of the UK Pennines, it’d be like home from home. Crossing the hills, it struck me just how much it was like the moors around Blackstone Edge. Bleak, no trees and a hint of dark cloud always menacing. Even Jyoti remarked, “I think there may be rain in Cherapunjee”

Pah! It was bone bloody dry. Not a drop. Nowt. I was due to visit Nokhali waterfall, the fourth highest falls in the world. The scenery was magnificent. The rock face dramatic. The drop staggering. The water, sadly missing. They’ve not seen rain for months and, as a consequence, the falls have run dry. I walked it down to almost the foot of the falls and it really is a great place, despite the thieving so and so’s charging ten rupees per person. Honestly, they cream you that much; it’s just like Blackpool Pleasure beach! I’m only joking by the way. I’d better clear that up as some bugger mailed me after one of these posts moaning that, “of course it’s cold in Tawang, you’re in the Himalayas, jerk!”

Oh, before I forget. I saw some programme on tv last night and that lisping mockney Jamie Oliver was on. He’d come across some new fruit and he’s bought a bottle of it’s juice for £45!! He mentioned the name of the fruit and said that we couldn’t get it in the UK. No, you’re right Jamie because it’s peculiar to the Khasi hills. Now forgive my spelling, as I still don’t have internet access but it’s called “Souzchou”. The Khasi women let me try some the other day at their market and it was that sour they laughed themselves silly at my facial reaction. Jyoti bought a full bag of the buggers today for only 10/-, so take that mockney Mickey!

Right, where was I? Ah yes, Jyoti then came out with the idea of visiting some caves, followed by an amusement park. Well, sod that! So I told him we’d head back to Shillong (remember, there’s only one road in to most places and one road out) and from there back to Guahati. As it happened, we did stop at one more place just outside of Shillong. Elephant falls. Yep, more waterfalls and this time they were teeming with water. They were teeming with more water twenty minutes later as the heavens opened. It crashed down, thunder, lightening, rain and hailstones. We only needed snow and it’d have been a “full house!”

Bollocks to it. I trekked my way back to the van, stopping only for a cup of tea on the way and said “come on lads, wagons roll, enough is enough, Guwahati or bust!” They didn’t understand a word, so it was five further minutes explaining things before we were back on the road to Guwahati.

After just over three weeks in the remote North East of India, a big city takes you by the scruff of the neck and hangs you out to dry. It hits you full smack in the face. The noise, the bustle, the size, the sheer scale of humanity, it’s all there. I’ve just had a walk around this area of town and they’re an affable lot but I think I’ll wait till tomorrow to make my proper bow. I need to buy some new t-shirts as the ones I brought with me are manky as hell and need a damned good wash. I’ll ask housekeeping tomorrow if they’ll do them but I’m not holding my breath, after all it might rain!