Hi all. 'All' is going to be the select few who have access to/can be bothered to check my blog on my time in India. In case you haven't heard I will be spending approximately four months in India, first working at a school up in the mountains in Shimla and then travelling around the country for a couple of months with a friend from Marlborough. I leave tomorrow, which is fairly soon; but I'm sure before long my amazing parents will have made sure that all their friends and relatives have been sent links to this blog. And then don't be surprised if you subsequently recieve phone calls from them demanding your views and opinions on little Maxy's big adventure.
So I'm sitting in my room in Harare with the generator powering the internet at the very end of what has been an amazing three months. But I can't bum around for ever and tomorrow I'll be dropped off at the airport with my huge suitcase and I'll be off on my own, properly on my own, for the first time. I fly into Mumbai (Bombay to apease all), arriving at half past midnight with only the name of a hotel and a vague picture of a map of the city in my head. Mummy isn't particularly happy about my level of laidbackness when it comes to travelling and she probably is right but unless I get abducted by a taxi driver I guess I should be alright (touch wood).
I'm fantastically excited about the next few months, its the real deal part of my gap year, somewhere completely new and fresh, somewhere thats going to blow my mind, I've even got a buzz out of talking to the guy at the reception desk of the hotel I'm staying at.
Before I go I want to thank everyone whose helped me over the last few months with hints, or anecdotes of their experiences, sorting me out when my disorganisation levels have reached new peaks and just generally giving me encouragement from the sidelines. Specifically Mands and Gus le Breton, Conor and Emma O'Beirne, Granny and Grampa, Ed Holmes, whose stories of his cricket tour to the sub-continent did seem to consist mainly of his team's bowel's reactions to the numerous curries that they ate, and of course Mum and Dad. I know I've already given them a bit of abuse in this post and there is a constant battle between me being way too laidback and them trying to drive some organisation into my life but I genuinely couldn't do any of this, and couldn't have done any of my travelling over the last year without their constant nagging and ideas and just generally sorting me out. So thank you.
Apologies to anyone I may have missed out, no doubt your advice will come in handy at some point and I'll make sure to credit you then.
Anyway feel free to comment on any of the posts, or if you have any more personal questions, perhaps regarding my body's reaction to Indian food then drop me a line on maxadams93@gmail.com.
Cheers
Max
So I'm sitting in my room in Harare with the generator powering the internet at the very end of what has been an amazing three months. But I can't bum around for ever and tomorrow I'll be dropped off at the airport with my huge suitcase and I'll be off on my own, properly on my own, for the first time. I fly into Mumbai (Bombay to apease all), arriving at half past midnight with only the name of a hotel and a vague picture of a map of the city in my head. Mummy isn't particularly happy about my level of laidbackness when it comes to travelling and she probably is right but unless I get abducted by a taxi driver I guess I should be alright (touch wood).
I'm fantastically excited about the next few months, its the real deal part of my gap year, somewhere completely new and fresh, somewhere thats going to blow my mind, I've even got a buzz out of talking to the guy at the reception desk of the hotel I'm staying at.
Before I go I want to thank everyone whose helped me over the last few months with hints, or anecdotes of their experiences, sorting me out when my disorganisation levels have reached new peaks and just generally giving me encouragement from the sidelines. Specifically Mands and Gus le Breton, Conor and Emma O'Beirne, Granny and Grampa, Ed Holmes, whose stories of his cricket tour to the sub-continent did seem to consist mainly of his team's bowel's reactions to the numerous curries that they ate, and of course Mum and Dad. I know I've already given them a bit of abuse in this post and there is a constant battle between me being way too laidback and them trying to drive some organisation into my life but I genuinely couldn't do any of this, and couldn't have done any of my travelling over the last year without their constant nagging and ideas and just generally sorting me out. So thank you.
Apologies to anyone I may have missed out, no doubt your advice will come in handy at some point and I'll make sure to credit you then.
Anyway feel free to comment on any of the posts, or if you have any more personal questions, perhaps regarding my body's reaction to Indian food then drop me a line on maxadams93@gmail.com.
Cheers
Max
