I’ve just had my first taste of Western exercise since I’ve been back. ‘Body Blitz’ is aptly named because, having done it, I feel like I’d been in the Blitz (probably some poor woman who, not being close to a tube station, had the misfortune of a building fall on her). Such are my aches and pains. The routine has changed since I’ve been away. We did a few star jumps and crunches then our Camp Commandant, sorry, class instructor, pushed us out the door and told us to do a circuit of the running track. ‘Don’t you know, I’ve spent the last 3 weeks living on mung beans and cardboard biscuits?’ I felt like shouting at her. I staggered the last 100 metres, sadly assigning my wild fantasies of being an Olympic athlete to the ‘never gonna happen’ bin. Still, I didn’t pass out/throw up/have a heart attack so I suppose that’s good news. Anyhow, here’s another shred of India: Monday, 4 February 08. ‘As has been the case since we arrived here, we got up early, early enough for it to be hazy and not yet hot. I had a massage. It was a ‘general massage’ but not in the sense that I was expecting. For a start, I was stark naked, lying on a trestle table covered by a plastic sheet. I was oiled up by, let’s call her Anita (well, it had 3 syllables) who then swept her hands all over my body – over and over again. I’ve never had my boobs so vigorously massaged. As my shoulder blades bore down into the hard wood, up and down she continued from top to tip and back again. Then I flipped over, or should I say slid over and she repeated the process again. Afterwards, I can’t say I felt any different but I did burst into tears on the beach later on in the afternoon – much to the consternation of the poor man who was plying me with beads. That’s it, I’ve found a way to get rid of rogue tradesmen. Cry.’ more to come….