Why does the Indian navy paint targets on its planes?

Monday, 16th June

Well, where to start...

I'm special!

Kingfisher Air should come fly in Australia. Really.

Flight from Cochin to Goa hopped via Calicut and Mangalore, those of us going straight through simply stayed on the flight.

First leg, 25 mins. We got a lunchbox containing:

• A cheese and coleslaw sandwich, white bread, crusts cut off, halved diagonally, halves individually wrapped in cling-film
• A piece of cake, wrapped in cling-film
• A giant oatmeal and raisin cookie
• Two sweets
• A mango drink with a twist of alphonso (sounds painful, but presumably Alphonso doesn't mind)

They had barely distributed them when we started to land, still eating happily.

Second leg, similar-length flight. We got a familiar-looking lunchbox, but with cheese, tomato and cucumber sandwich, halved vertically, and the addition of a couple of deepfried veg thingies. Very nice.

Third leg, 50 mins. Menu meal. I chose veg, which contained:

• Veg kofta korma
• Onion dal
• Vegetable pulao rice
• A salad
• Vermicelli kheer (my favourite dessert, right up there with payasam)
• A mango drink with a twist of alphonso (poor Alphonso)

Not to mention little bottles of water, a tray of sweets (and, inexplicably free pens), and free newspapers on take-off. Not to mention the fact that the seat in front is nowhere near my knees.

Catch an Australian airline giving you more than a warm juice and a packet of peanuts on such a short flight.

And catch an Australian airline having a "hot-seat of the day" competition. On the second leg, that hot-seat was mine! I won a laminated poster of Vitantonio Liuzzi, a driver for the ForceIndia Formula One team. I'm so lucky. And special!

Targets on planes

So there was a delay at Goa, waiting to taxi in to get off the plane. My plane was holding at the military apron. There were a number of fighter planes there, belonging to the Indian Navy. They had targets painted on them.

Now, I'm not an expert, but surely the idea is to make it harder for the enemy to get you, not easier. Just a suggestion - perhaps they could lose the targets.

Elvis was my driver

Extracted myself from the airport, met my ride to the resort. Temperature: 30 degrees at 80% humidity. Driver's name: Elvis.

We discussed the types of tourists that go to these resorts. He really dislikes Russians - they are very rude and messy and difficult to deal with. And don't speak English. On top of which, the women are "business women". I had a little think about that, had a sneaking suspicion, which he then clarified - apparently they all come over here to set up prostitution businesses. Though Elvis had met one very nice Russian family, the father was a geologist and the mother was a dentist.

He was talking about how Goans are different to the rest of India - and referred to other Goans as "our boys" and "our girls" - interesting. First time I've come across such a distinct sense of identity. Though, of course, that could be due to the fact that Elvis speaks better English than many of the drivers I've come across, and so was better able to express it, and me more able to understand it.

The shower caps are plentiful and the port is free

Reached resort after peaceful and almost traffic-free ride in (due to it being the off-season). Upon arrival I was banded.

The "American Plan" band

Feeling slightly like a criminal or a prisoner, I was led to my room, which is rather nice - one of two rooms in a single building.

There seem to be a lot of fire-related safety warnings. Learn your escape routes. Don't smoke in bed. If you even suspect a fire, leave the room (making sure you have secured both your room key and your family, in that order).

The room contains a complimentary bottle of wine and a complimentary box of matches.

A two-room cottage - note the fire-hose

A two-story room complex

I remain baffled as to why, in my split door, its the bottom half that opens while the top remains locked...

Midget bison entrance

Went for a wander down to the beach (because the resort does actually give onto the beach).

Of course there's beach cricket in India, though I might not swim...

Ok, definitely the pool for me

I had noticed a shopping complex on the way in, so I went out to have a look at it (having been relatively shopping-free for the last week or so, apart from the Bat-vendor-repellent-free-vendors in Jew Town). They actually let me out, despite my American Plan Band, and they let me back in afterwards, too, which was encouraging.

Managed to acquire a new book, as all I had left was William Dalrymple's The Last Mughal, which is very interesting and all, but too much like work. The shop dude heroically almost managed to not follow me around the shop and point out the good points of everything I looked at. I think it's a genetic thing.

For example, I noticed a cat wandering around the resort. He noticed me noticing, and proceeded to follow me all the way back to my room, asking for a tip (which is actually against the rules here, they have a tip box at reception).

There are 125 Indians here on a conference. I met their Hungarian economist and her translator at dinner, and the company director.

The buffet had live music and disco lights. Which would have been ok if my room had not been right beside it. I went to investigate the possibility of changing rooms, and was informed that I had been kept close because there were 125 men staying in the area, and the resort was looking after me. I boldly stated that I wasn't afraid of men, and then immediately had to run the gauntlet of them, who seemed to be all sitting on my balcony, for the room next to mine.

The music was loud, but I discovered that the half-bottle of wine is actually port (Indian port... which should be fine, because port is supposed to be a bit sweet) (I'm really quite surprised that every Indian is not a diabetic, the amount of sugar they put in things, it's almost as bad as the Americans), which should make getting to sleep a little easier.

I think tomorrow will be a day of doing nothing - lounging by and in the pool, maybe a visit to the gym, with just a smattering of room-changing. Maybe a massage ... hmmm ... they have a 24-carat gold body scrub ... papaya and honey ... oooh, chocolate body scrub ... mmm ... chocolate body scrub ...

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