The Goan Gallop is what they call it here. Oooops the terrible trots. I naively thought it wouldn't happen to me as I tipped more alcohol down my throat to help down my exotic curry in this heat. This is where you are suddenly so grateful you are in a five star hotel and, better than that, the rest of your party have gone out on a boat trip .... without you. Why I thought I would be immune I cannot imagine as I am the sort of traveller whose alimentary canal goes into spasm anywhere south of Brighton. Anyway, Glen the Good produced a magic yellow pill that I am assured will sort me out. Waiting for it to work whilst reading Clare Balding's autobiog on the bog in Goa will be a lasting memory.
By the way, Goa is incredibly beautiful but you will just have to excuse me from its splendours today.
By the way, Goa is incredibly beautiful but you will just have to excuse me from its splendours today.
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