In the interests of scientific enquiry, we finally sent for a doctor. I was sure, for half a second, he said I had ‘Wild Fever’. How glamorous! I said, until realising it was only a viral fever, and the ruby rash would disappear after a week, after going scaly. Yuck. But he was concerned about the ankle patches which were ‘uncharacteristic’. They’d burst into flame in Jaipur, and I assumed I’d walked through some particularly noxious grasses, but hadn’t gone down. So ‘twas rash on rash! Undeterred, and feeling considerably more perky, we ventured forth into the monsoon on a free half day tour. Interestingly our travelling companions were Joti and Parvin, a middle-aged Asian couple, native of Bombay, but now running the Radford Leather Centre, next to Coral Bingo, Coventry. Very nice they were and their conversation lent interest to a rather lack-lustre trip. First, Old Goa, a tiny village surrounded by massive churches and ruins. One of these contains the only Christian relics in India - the mortal remains of St Francis Xavier (16th Century); a great focus of pilgrimage (40 mins here). Thence to Panaji, the weeny capital, where we dodged cloudbursts to visit a temple to Laxmi (Goddess of Wealth, where J & P offered up gifts …) and to view a couple of soggy monuments. On, and to buy a sink plug, at last. Briefly visiting Dona Paulo, basically a concrete causeway and lookout post, then back to sit in a beach café reading while tempests lashed only feet away. An hour’s desultory ‘shopping’ in Bogmalo’s 3 shops, then more reading.

‘Chasing the Monsoon’ - Alexander Frater is very appropriate!