Can anyone tell me what a sensitive bladder is? And how do I know if I have one? I can only presume the term means you wee yourself from time to time – in which case, it would be more useful to call it a ‘slack bladder’, a ‘careless bladder’ or even a ‘lazy bladder’. There must be an awful lot of women with this sad affliction to warrant, as I saw on the tv yesterday, a special product. Whatever happened to shoving a piece of toilet paper down your pants? Anyway, don’t get me started on femcare products. Haven’t women got enough to think about without being bombarded with products that they don’t need. A tampon with frills. I ask you!  Anyway, more from Inja…Monday, 11 February 08. ‘Today was incredibly hot. We went off on the bike to look at the waterfalls nearby. With our guide, a ragged looking man in torn, stained clothes, we negotiated a banana plantation before arriving at a huge expanse of boulders, all featuring perfectly-formed, circular cavities, the product of thousands of years of water erosion. In the Monsoon season, this whole area is under a raging torrent but for now, we hopped from one stone to another and looked down to the small river which ambled along at the base of the rocks, only occasionally breaking into a mini-cascade. We came back to the guest house and had a siesta – there’s nothing much else to do when the sun’s high in the sky. We’re both so hot and bothered it’s not funny! Later on, when the sun had lost some of its intensity, we wandered out to where the coracle goes over the river. A young girl, Lakshme, offered to be our guide and took us to the monkey temple, high on a rocky outcrop. It was a bit of a schlep that involved a long walk alonside the river, over rocks and through a village then on a tarmac road and, finally, up 575 steps. This being called the monkey temple, there were, naturally, quite a few simians hanging around. I gave one a banana but, far from being satisfied with just the one, it kept trying to get into my bag where I’d got a whole bunch. I pulled a face and growled (as you do), thinking it would run off but, au contraire, it lunged at me with teeth bared, screaming. I kept my bananas to myself after that! After the sun had gone down it was a race against time as it tends to get dark really quickly here and that means mosquito time. We luckily had some repellent on us but trying to find out way back along the rock path and alongside the river was treacherous without a torch. Luckily, the coracle boys waited for us and we went back over the river in the dark, almost crashing into another boat coming in the opposite direction.’ more to come..