Day 22, Thursday 19th October

I write this on board a train heading south of the city for a place called Diamond Harbor. There was plenty of room in the carriage on arrival but as the passengers pile on, the majority seem to be placing themselves as close to us as possible. When I say passengers I mean men, the women are rarely out alone and when they are they stick to the “women only” carriage. The men aren’t interested in me, some maybe for a lecherous stare, but Jonny on the other hand they find fascinating. He’s always being dragged into the most laborious of conversations about England and the western ways. They’re often not even conversations but a means for someone to practice testing their knowledge of England on a native.
“The people of England are taking a dislike to Mr Blair just like they did to Mrs Thatcher, yes?”
“I think the young people of England are experiencing problems with alcohol and causing problems within the communities, yes?”
“William the Conqueror was King of Sussex in 1022 was he not?” and so on.

Thursdays and Sundays are our days off from work so today we’ve decided to venture out. I don’t feel like we deserve a day off however as due to sickness we haven’t been able to work for the last few days. We’ve been waiting for our first Indian bug to hit and luckily we suffered together. Fever, pounding heads, aching bones and waves of nausea have kept us restricted to our room where we’ve sweated, shivered and slept rather deliriously. One evening Jonny awoke in the middle of the night to find me frantically rummaging through my clothes and the bed sheets. When he asked me what I was doing, I replied, “Searching for my garment.” When he asked me which garment I was looking for, I replied, “The one that I’ve just been sewing, I can’t find it anywhere.” He told me that I hadn’t just been sewing but sleeping and that I was in fact dreaming. I remember it all very clearly and after pleading with him a little longer I decided that he simply didn’t understand and that if I pretended to go back to sleep he would leave me alone and I could carry on my search. The garment in question was a mouth-piece which I had been ordered to sew for myself by the nurses who were keeping us locked in our room till the fever left us. Needless to say, I fell straight asleep and never found my garment.

As we gradually recovered we did manage to enjoy the occasional venture outside where we indulged in “Lets make ourselves feel better” treats. A wet shave (I passed on that one, my growth not quite being long enough), mugs of hot lemon, honey and ginger with cheese on toast at the Blue Sky Café. This place is a regular tourist hang-out which can sometimes drive you up the wall but the air- conditioning together with the comfort food and the familiar white faces were just what we needed. Buying an outrageously pretty silk skirt which fits him perfectly and couldn’t go any better with his sandals and of course many trips to the chemist for our supply of Paracetamol,

So now we’re heading down river towards the coast to see if we can’t breathe a little of that sea air into our lungs. Diamond Harbor is popular with Kolkatan’s as a day trip destination and it says in our guidebook that it is home to the remains of a historic Portugese fort.

It is now six pm and we’re traveling back to Kolkata. Diamond Harbor wasn’t exactly all that we expected. The place consisted of a long, down trodden street running alongside the Hooghly (the river itself was amazingly wide and forceful this close to the ocean) with a rather unwelcoming atmosphere. We walked through the street and out the other end where it petered into nothing but grub land. We did find a greenish spot of land by the water which looked okay but we had to pay a man in a hut five rupees each to walk on it. He called it “A very nice picnic place”. Jonny got it right first time when he said that he’d rather eat his picnic off one of the cows or goats backsides that were roaming around on the land.

As we stood and looked out to the Bay of Bengal we were accosted by a young boy and his mother who took us on a rough guided tour of the ruined Portugese port which lay semi-sunken nearby. This was the highlight of the day for me, clambering through narrow corridors and rooms dating back to pirate time. We then followed the pair to their friends’ hut situated on the very nice picnic place where we sat for a bit and had a 7up. We paid the mother ten rupees for her kindness and time only for her to demand more. We didn’t budge on the matter and moved swiftly on back to the town/street.

We were just about mobbed at the train station by goggling eyes, pointing fingers and sniggering mouths. Of course we’re used to this but somehow at Diamond Harbor it felt nasty. I don’t think they get many visitors and I don’t think we’ll be going back.