We then spent a day and a night on a ‘house boat’ although this term scarcely does it justice. fitted out with chandeliers, ornate wooden carvings and bathtubs it was positively palatial in style and the prowd owner insisted we referred to it as such..
Me- ‘This is a lovely boat!’
Him- ‘No, no no…this is not a boat; this is a palace!’
We had stayed on a houseboat last year on the backwaters of Kerala, but the H.B Floating heaven ,quite literally, blew it out of the water. It even had a satellite TV which meant that I could watch/Fabia could endure the World Cup quarter final between France and Germany. The son of the owner excitablyWatched the game with us. I have to admit that I am surprised by the level of interest in football in India, seeing as the country only boasts one professional player in the whole world. Last summer on the beaches of goa I had a kick around with some mercurial teenage talents, but away from the south coast (and it’s legacy of French and Portuguese influence) the majority of balls have been of the cricket variety. Nevertheless it seems that an Indian interest in football is certainly growing. Earlier in the week I chatted with our aptly named taxi driver ‘Ronaldo’ over the merits of different players. His lack of English didn’t prove a problem as we would fire different players names at each other and gage the others reaction. ‘Messi’ and ‘di Maria’ both received enthusiastic noises although the same could not be said for any of the English players I named.. Football then truly is an international language.