Is there trouble brewing in Madrid?

On the way to work this morning I couldn't help noticing that every single bank on my street had been fly-posted with these posters by La Falange showing pictures of the Madrid Airport bomb.



Unfortunately, I don't understand Spanish, but I think it's about not opening dialogue with ETA. Initially I thought it was a cool anarchist/anticapitalist thing and was hoping to go on a big march. Oh well...

Naughty or nice?

Yesterday I had a lesson with my year 7s, who are like 11 years old and at the begininning I set fire to some alcohol and threw it around between beakers for a laugh.

As you do.

While presenting the lesson I mentioned that I really like fire (who doesn't) and that at home I didn't have anything to light my gas cooker with.

Today in lesson 1, my year 7s brought me a little present.

Two of the girls had wrapped it up in silver wrapping paper and it was opened, as usual with the usual michief gusto. Inside was a box of matches, pink with little blue chickens on it. Boy have they got me sussed!



I looked at it, thanked them and told them how cool it was that they understood my sense of humour so well.

Then I looked a bit closer and realised that perhaps they got my sense of humour a bit TOO well...



I mean "Bar Cock, Madrid"!?!

I had to suppress all the cock gags as fast as they came to my mind, but I couldn't help wondering if, as innocent 2nd language 11 year olds they knew the implications of this!

Spanish Lessons

Madrid Partys 27 Jan 2007 039
Originally uploaded by andytgeezer.

I 've started learning Spanish.

On Friday I had my first lesson, in school and I learnt the alphabet.

Aaah

Bear

Sssthay

Day

Eh?

Effay

GGGGG

hachay

Hotta

Ka

etc

So I'm out at this club on Saturday night with my gay flatmates and I see this hot chick. Yeah the one in the picture.

And I go up to her with my limited Spanish knowledge and say

"Hola! Que tal?"

She says something back I don't understand then I'm stuck.

With bugger all else to say I try my luck...

"erm...Aaah, Bear, Ssssthay..."

you won't be surprised to know I went home with the gay flatmates (no not like that...)

Watch out blind guy there's a cactus in front of you!

Not the only person in the world who collects airline sickbags

Thanks to Steve for the comment in my cbox. Finally someone else who collects sickbags!

A magnificent collection that makes my collection of about 30 seem very small indeed...

Check it out on www.airsicknessbags.com today!

When will I learn that I can't live on beer and cheese?

Obviously not any time soon. Pass me another beer sandwich...

ADHD - a teacher rant

Sorry guys I'm going to get serious for a second. I just have to get something off my chest.

Will people PLEASE stop saying

"this kid or that kid has ADHD and is therefore a pain in the arse"

I'm sorry that is just not true. Kids with or without ADHD can be a pain in the arse. They are people and all people can be a pain in the arse.

Now the thing is that I suspect I have ADHD. I can't concentrate for any length of time on anything at all, and I like to get up and wander around. I also write a hell of a lot and take an unnatural number of photographs. I'm endlessly curious about everything and, having a very short attention span, I'm able to apply myself almost immediately to anything at all and solve problems really quickly before they bore the shit out of me.

My school report in primary school read "A complete pain except if you give him a maths book. He will run around all day long but if you give him a maths book he will sit and quietly solve problems completely absorbed on his own and nothing can distract him"

Thing is that the difference between me and a kid that is a pain in the arse is that I'm NOT AN ARSEHOLE. If something interests me I will make damn sure I solve it and quickly. As a hyperactive kid and adult, I love nothing more than finding things out, but I find that life happens far too slowly around me.

Other people think and do things too slowly for my liking, the world seems to happen at a snails pace. I can't REALLY get my head around how slowly things happen around me and YES I do find it bloody frustrating.

But I'm NOT AN ARSEHOLE.

The thing is that if I were to take out my frustration on others and make myself a pain in the arse a few things would cross my mind.

1. It would be rude and disrespectful
2. It would be a poor reflection on me. Just because the world doesn't go as fast as me it's not their fault and I should slow down and wait up for them

The fact is that sometimes teachers plan without understanding the nature of this condition and react to it badly. Society at large, moving tortoise-like through time does not really grasp the speeed of thought that the ADHD kid moves at and so generally things move much slower than we want them to.

But that is no excuse. If a kid has ADHD and behaves badly they deserved to be punished and shown the meaning of manners like everyone else. The fact is that we all inhabit this world together and if you move at a different pace then school is a place to learn that in some instances we need to accomodate others and it is the teacher's job to teach this understanding.

It is not for us to stand by and blame a condition that we don't understand, this Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, for the fact that a kid is out of line.

The fact that a kid is out of line is the issue, disorder or no and we need to have the courage to stand up and address this issue regardless. Too many teachers let kids get away with all sorts of crap in the name of ADHD these days and it's bollocks.

For me ADHD has been a godsend. The difference between me and a kid who is a pain in the arse is a firm hand and good teachers.

Let's not shy away from the issues. A pain in the arse is a pain in the arse and should be dealt with appropriately. Don't bury your heads in the sand.

Watch this video on VideoSurf or see more Opera House Videos or Videos

I've just posted this up on the TES Staffroom board under my Watchmen pseudonym.

What the Fuck!!!

What the Fuck!!!
Originally uploaded by andytgeezer.

One of my all-time favourite signs in Nanjing Donglu. I'm just in the process of uploading some photos from last years China trip and this one still makes me fall off my chair.

When I was working in my last school, I had some girls from Taiwan in my class who read this and told me that it was a direct translation of what it actually meant in Chinese.

So erm...

what the fuck DOES it mean!?!

Exploration

I must be getting old. I was out clothes shopping yesterday and DIDN'T end up getting into as much mischief as I should have done.

So I was out shopping in Madrid and found a place with some bargains so started shopping for some cool tops and stuff to cover the fact that I was buying underwear.



I then notice that the mannequin has a very appropriate shirt on. If you look really closely it says something about travel in a slightly grammatically incorrect way:

Exploration

Travelling is a passion: it is a way of life combinated with a free way of thinking - you'll see the more you travel and the more you want to and you'll realise that the world is not so big.

I really liked the sentiment, even if I didn't like the sentence construction and decided that I wanted it. However, looking around the shop there were no other copies of it around.

So I decided to strip the mannequin naked.

I waited for the assistants in the shop to go beyond running distance, but they wouldn't leave, so I stood taking pictures of the mannequin for about 10 minutes to pass the time, until finally I gave in and asked them if I could have it. In my younger days I would have just taken it straight off, brazen as you like.

Anyway, dealing with the nice-but-dim assistant was much less fruitful than I thought it would be, and she basically said in Spanish that she didn't want to take my money for this product because she couldn't be bothered to take the mannequin down.

Obviously this pissed me off a bit.

So I decided to cause the tiniest bit of mischief...



The mannequin wearing my shirt was located in a very thin aisle. Despite the fact he/she/it had no head it was a posable figure with arms and hands.

So I grabbed his hand and gave it a hearty shake leaving his arm horizontal.

Within seconds, customers were walking around the manneuqin and ducking, muttering under their breath. Just like the Brits, the Spanish also complain to themselves and do fuck all about problems with obvious solutions!

Final score: 1 to the shop and 1 to mischief. This isn't over yet...

Grease

Of the many reasons that I love my new life here on the continent one stands out.

What I REALLY love about my new life is grease. Yes grease. Oil. I love eating oil.

Thing is I've ALWAYS loved eating oil in all it's forms and despite my tiny build I can metabolise any amount of pork crackling, as anyone who's been to Grease Tuesday with me will know.

Out here no-one bats an eyelid if I go up and order a burger with extra fat or ask for the skin off someone's chicken before swallowing it down with a side serving of engine oil.

And the best thing is that I get to douse everything in olive oil, like this pizza I had for lunch, which is dripping in the stuff.

The thing is that at home, it's just not culturally on to stick grease all over your food. I remember one time I sprinkled shavings of lard all over my yoghurt and my ex-girlfriend left me the next day citing the "fact" that I was a sick bastard.

I'll never understand the Brits.

Yippee! I might get shite thrown on my shoes in Madrid!

As you may remember, last time I was in Delhi I got Dog Shit thrown on my shoes as part of an intricate scam to try to seperate me from my wallet.

I had thought that this was a third world thing. That sort of thing surely couldn't happen in Europe, could it?

So imagine my delight when, reading through the Lonely Planet Spain I found under the "Dangers and Annoyances" section on page 118 just after the bit about pickpocketing and prostitution (that's dangerous and annoying?), the following:

Be on the lookout for classic scams like the old bird-dropping trick: a thief will drop something brown on you then help you clean it off as he helps himself to your wallet."

FANTASTIC!

I won't rest until I get the dogshit treatment in Madrid!

Flatmates

Oh dear.

I've just found out that I live with a gay couple in my flat and their room is right next door to mine.

Now I've got no problem whatsoever with the fact that they're gay, except for one thing.

They play lots of ABBA.

LOUD.

I'll have to tell them next time I see them to turn up the volume of their anal sex to drown out that horrible noise...

Missin a funny fix?

Thanks to Desert Kat for the support and to everyone else too for all your birthday doo-das.

Thought I'd best point you in the direction of eatfoss at www.eatfoss.com where i go every day when i run out of funny things to say.

Thanks for the idea of gettin my own domain too Foss!

Happy Birthday to me!

So it's my birthday and as usual, other than my utterly wicked kids presents I've got bugger all from my mates.

Despite hinting and outright ASKING for www.andytgeezer.com no-one bothered to buy me it as a present for a mere £8.99 from 1and1.

So I bloody well bought it myself!

So you can now change your browser to point to the much more sexy URL

www.andytgeezer.com

While I was there I also thought of another stonkin idea for a blog and bought the domain for that, so while you're updating your bookmarks, why not also add www.theadventuresofminiandy.com and keep your eyes on that over the next few months.

Happy birthday to me!

The REAL reason people become teachers

Alright it's all lies. I didn't become a teacher because I want to change people's lives and make the world a better place.



I didn't see myself making waves in peoples minds and I even didn't do it for a free ticket around the world.



I done it cos kids can sometimes be bloody amazing and there is no other job or no amount of money that you could give that would ever be as cool as receiving one of these things for your birthday!



After letting it slip that I was still looking for a house last night and that it was my birthday my year 11s made me this...



Why the hell does anyone do any other job...?

Oh dear. Maybe I should sort out my priorities...

So a couple of weeks back my finger needs to be bled of pus cos it's infected by a cat in India and the first thing I do? Go to the hospital? See a doctor? Nah...

Take a picture of it and blog it.

Tomorrow I get kicked out of the hotel and have to find a place to live in Madrid, while simultaneously holding down a full time job in a foreign country, with my bank account almost empty. So what do I do? Spend the evening on the web looking for a place to live and phoning eveyone in sight? Nah...

Sit in my hotel, take in the last warm shower I'm gonna have for a while before I have to sleep on the streets and make full use of the free internet one last time to get a few more Dosaboys posts up for the team.

Simon says to me tonight "erm mate don't you think you should just change your priorities around for a week or two til you get a house?"

Nah....

Why can't I get a bloody cup of tea from the Chinese!?

Panda Jen this is for you.

Over in China this summer Panda Jen and I tried to get a cup of tea. After all the phrase "All the tea in China" is always bandied around to mean that there's quite a lot of the stuff.

We found out that actually this is not the case at all. Spending 4 days in Shanghai looking for tea, we found ourselves in one place where we came in, ordered tea, sat there for more than 4 hours watching passers-by and leaving having been given nothing at all.

In another place when we ordered tea, they brought out two plates of vinegar, which we looked at, scratched our heads and decided against drinking.

In conclusion we decided that either China is just not a place to get tea or the Chinese just could not understand what the hell we were talking about when we ordered "tea please", asssuming that that must translate as "vinegar in a bowl please"

Anyway, I was out at a Chinese place in downtown madrid tonight after work and, lacking both Spanish and Chinese skills I ordered a bowl of rice and some tea.

A couple of minutes later she comes back with a bowl of noodles in soup and a bun, which she explained to me was tea.



Am I a retard or has the entire Chinese population not discovered tea yet?

There could be a market there ya know. Selling tea to the Chinese....

Dosa Boys Insider: Psssst pics uploaded of the crash site

I have more information and the hunt is now over. I know what happened and the damage is pretty bad.

Take a look for yourself though at the new interiors with blood-coloured pimping design all over the back seat on ivans site.

It all looks pretty grim and I´d like to see daylight shots. Anyone got any more?

New life in Madrid begins here

So I landed in Madrid from Gatwick North Terminal (very nice actually - very impressed) via the BA (lovely sevice - lots of leg room) into terminal 4.

Terminal 4 is gorgeous. It's brand new and really well designed, spacious and bright and remarkably unstressful for an airport. It was so impressive in fact I think that in all my travels it's the nicest airport I've ever seen and said so to a couple of people.

So I got my bags from the stainless steel conveyor belts, took them past the absolutely gorgeous ladies in security (welcome to Spain) and out the front door

...where I notice that a 500Kg ETA bomb has blown apart the car park.

Well that was a shock.

As for me I was in India when that went off and somehow this IMMENSE explosion that tore through a concrete and steel car park leaving a hole about 20mx20m killing 2 was deemed not newsworthy enough to make the West Bengal Telegraph (The Dosa Boys did though!) so I missed out.

Bit surprised that, with me going to Madrid no-one mentioned it though. I guess it wouldn't have made much differrence really.

Anyway life here is great, apart from the little fact that I have to find a flat in the next two days. I get turfed out of the hotel on the 24th just in time for my birthday so here´s wishing for a birthday treat of a roof above my head!

Saved by the Rickshaw

I don't usually buy souvenirs. I don't really see the point of buying something that you wouldn't otherwise buy, and probably don't need merely because you're in another country, cos I go to other countries quite a lot and if I fell into the habit of buying shit evey time I was in a foreign country then I would never stop buying shit.

However there are some objects that I think you just can't get back home in the UK which just HAVE to be bought at any price.

For example last time I was in Nepal, home of the magnificent Ghurkhas, I kicked myself for running out of money to buy a Khukri, the heavy curved knife that is synonymous with this awesome battalion of warriors. This was before I learnt about blogging, but I ran out of money completely and nearly couldn't get home.



It was also the time I took the walk in the mountains that nearly ended up with me being killed by Maoist rebels but you can read about that whenever you like.

Not so this time around though.

Darjeeling is full of Nepalese and so, when I saw a Khukri in a shop it was going to be mine at any price. Purchasing this fine beast of metal I packaged it up securely in a bag that I later bought made of camels leather in Rajasthan, securely padlocked it and forgot about it.

Later on, walking around Delhi I found a place that sold CNG Rickshaw models and decided that you lot and my Dosaboys readers would probably appreciate these, so I decided to buy a box to take home with me.



Trying to keep the number of items of baggage down I went out and bought this rather fetching Indian canvas number complete with Lipton-style Indian pimping on the sides. Functional and stylish.



With all my purchases in now, I proceeded to consolidate the package, stuffing the large box of model rickshaws into the bottom of the large Indian Lipton bag, followed by some camel leather photo albums and blog books and finally the padlocked camel leather bag, complete with knife as big as my head and proceeeded to the airport security check-in desk.

So the first bag, complete with 10 packets of local biris (total contents 200 mini-cigarettes: total cost 100 rupees which is just over a pound) and my remaining clean underpants goes through the x-ray machine.

No problem at all.

Then, goes the canvas bag complete with Knife as big as my head.

"Could you open your bag?" Said the security lady on the x-ray machine.

Dammit. Rumbled.

Fumbling to open my bag I mumble something incoherent, playing down the enormity of the rather large knife I'm about to pull out of my hold baggage by saying something like,

"erm look I've got erm a very small souvenir from Nepal in here"



VERY SMALL!?!

WHAT THE HELL!?!?! It's longer than a foot of raw cold extra-carbonised steel made for the sole intention of killing people!

Well I wasn't going to say that was I...

As I fumbled around with the padlock on the leather bag, the lady on the machine got back to her screen and the checking guy, who didn't really know what he was looking for caught sight of the box at the bottom of the Lipton bag.

"What's in there?" he said, obviously assuming that the box was the container of the deadly item.

"erm...Rickshaws? 12 Model CNG Bajaj Autos?" I said

"Open it"



With the box open, he took a look at them, thought his x-ray woman was being a twat and waved me on my way.

So thanks to box of model rickshaws I managed hoodwink customs and bring a foot-long deadly weapon onto the plane and back home to the UK to sit merrily on my mantelpiece.



All hail the rickshaw!

Only one thing worth reading on the net right now...

It's the Dosa Boys Archives. I've been madly updating all day and present to you Day 4!! - It all starts going wrong at this point.

Stay locked...

Flippin eck!

Hmmmm I suspect that what happened to the Dosamobil after I left looked something like this



Cheers South London Ch1nky for that contribution!

flickr

I couldn't resist any longer. I'm now a fully paid up flickr member and my whole day has been spent uploading. Wow. What a site.

www.flickr.com/photos/andytgeezer

Have just added a load of photos to the carnival photo tagged "Karneval Aalborg 2006" - This is my favourite carnival in the world even more so than Notting Hill, not as intense but SO relaxed. The Danes really know how to party I tell ya that much, they let their hair down properly, get drunk but not rowdy and EVERYONE takes part in the spirit of carnival.

At no other carnival in the world will you see so many people up for it, dressed in everything from cow outfits, pirates, nurses, bikinis, Willys (no seriously see the pics for yourself there is one guy dressed as a willy complete with a bell-end helmet), Patients on stretchers with full support crew and everything in between.

It's such a great carnival everyone gets up for it weeks before and make their own costumes. Everyone needs to go to it.

This was the only folder on my computer of which I uploaded the whole folder with nothing left out. You'll see why.

2 new bags for the collection

The first was from Emirates which I picked up on the Christmas day flight to Dubai from London Gatwick, a flight spent watchin Ivan do magic the whole way. I always thought that Emirates bags were red and white but how wrong I was. maybe this is a 2006 edition.



Second is an Air Deccan sickbag - India Internal Airline! Yay! Rare bag! Acquired on the flight from Bagdogra to Delhi. A few days after the flight, now safely away from the rickshaws our rickshaw crashed in the night.

oooooh just there. yeah that's it!

I was out and about with The Jolly Bodger last night.

Between the Frith Street gallery and London Bridge we got on a rush hour train and she stood behind me in the crush.

Feelin a hand on my back, I said out loud on the crowded train

"oooh just there. yeah up a bit. that's great"

Turned round I see this poor guy in a business suit standin there lookin very embarrased and Bodger pissin herself!

Doh!

Indian haircut and shave

Would you trust this guy with a sharp object?!



Stupidly enough I did.

So earlier I had this haircut in Darjeeling, where the guy pretty cut my hair with a razorblade in a scythe-like action like he was mowing down corn, but being the hairless wonder that I am, I forgot to ask for a shave.



On gettin to Delhi I got my shave in the streets from this street hairdresser who cut my mustache with...

A pair of scissors!

Bloody hell you just can't get the staff these days...

Andy enters the couchsurfing arena...

I'm up the shitter. I mean I start in Madrid on Monday and the school get me a hotel for like 3 days after which time I need a roof over my head and I aint got one yet.

Kapousta, Lou and Ivan have all been bangin on about couchsurfing now for some time and so I thought that now seemed like a good time to start.

The idea of couchsurfing people's couches for a month in Madrid while tryin to hold down a full time job is a little daunting but damn it will make for good blog!

Check out >>>>my profile<<<< on the surfing site and if you know anyone in Madrid with a room to rent you can save me a world of pain

I'll keep y'all posted...

New year, New Skin

Was getting a little fed up of the old look and thought I'd go for a clear out on the skin, hence the new-look mischief site.

Also I wanted to be able to get photos up, cos I've got a new camera and have become kinda obsessed with photographing, without them lookin too cack.

There are still a few bugs to be ironed out but it works I think. Any bugs I'd appreciate knowing.

Cheers

Cannabis???

As if being wanted for laundering money in the states wasn't enough now I find that I've been charged with producing cannabis in Liverpool too!

>>>>Merseyside Police website<<<<

Andy back in the UK and ready for blogging action!

Last Monday, Indian Prime Minister Manmohan Singh reiterated his call for peace and cooperation between India and Pakistan by saying that one day it should be possible to have ""breakfast in Amritsar, lunch in Lahore and dinner in Kabul"

If this is Prime Minister Singh's intention then I think that as a solo Dosa Boy I have done my bit to prove that this is indeed possible.

I woke up this morning in Delhi, North India and had breakfast of a Dosa (of course), which is a South Indian dish. I followed this up with some Indian curry on the plane while somewhere over Karachi, while chatting to the Beagle Babies Cliff (from New Zealand) who was on the plane too.

This was followed by Lebanese at Dubai airport and Emirates airline Stroganoff (of Russian origin though I doubt the Russians would have been too pleased with this one), somewhere over Turkey.

As if this wasn't a show of cultural and cross border unity I got home to the UK and finished the day off with a good bowl of Vietnamese noodles at home.

All hail Manmohan Singh!

Dosa Boys Insider: No Calamity Involvement????

The latest is that Calamity have been seen getting a plane home to the UK lookin none the worse for wear. This has got to be good news then!

As for the rumours of a Raiders casualty these are yet to be confirmed.

But I have another theory.

On consultation it seems that the keys "fell into" the hands of some drunk drivers in a rather sketchy way. I've heard conflicting stories from third parties who all talked to the same source, but this source gave different stories as to how the keys "escaped" their clutches.

Strangely coincidental was the fact that neither of the two teams involved were named as such by said party and they both disappeared off the scene rather too quickly to bge questioned.

Does the witness who held the keys ultimately know exactly what happened that night but is unwilling to tell I wonder. Why the shroud of secrecy...?

Dosa Boys Insider: Conflicting stories

So I have 3 stories to tell you all about the same incident.

The first goes that the rickshaw was completely written off and that there would be hell to pay. The rumour has it that it hit a parked Jeep at speed, flipped over and someone got a head caught under it which proceeded to then rip off half their face, while someone else went through the windscreen and broke their nose. This story ends with the rickshaw being a steaming mess on the side of the road, completely unsalvagable. Tales of people going to hospital in Calcutta too, the second place team if the stories are anything to go by.

The second goes that the Raiders were the only injuries, they didn't crash into a jepp just a bit of road and that they got away with only minor scratches. According to this source, the rickshaw suffered a tiny dent in the roof which could be fixed with a bog plunger and some sticky tape.

The third goes that all the victims have gone home happily ever after and not a lot happened at all.

However this still doesn't explain the 20, 000Rs paid out to some fella who owns a Jeep.

Yet another source informs me that he saw the rickshaw in passing and it was indeed covered in blood with a nice and aerodynamic roof mould. Not quite the sort of pimping we were after but someone yes SOMEONE (it may be you) must have pictures.

Come on people don't let me down now...

Dosa Boys Insider: Update

Nick is tryin to make sure that everything is ok before he gets back. I bloody well hope the lads are gonna be ok. Our rickshaw made the papers it seems but now in the way we wanted. Nicks' on the case now though. Fingers x'ed...

Dosa Boys Insider: Crash

There's been a situation in Darjeeling.

It seems that 2 nights ago our Dosa Boys rickshaw was found crashed with blood in the backseats. It was taken from the compound where it was meant to be submitted and driven through the streets.

The rickshaws were meant to be submitted, with keys and paperwork to the Red Cross compound on the same street as Joeys Bar on the 12th, which is the official end of the Rickshaw Run.

After we had finished our run, Nick was furious to find that the Mercy Corps, who we were donating our rickshaws to, had changed their plans on how the money was to be used.

It seems that the mob in Siliguri, where we were meant to have given the rickshaws away, had been making threats to the families involved. The people who hired the rickshaws out to people previously didn't want their busineses threatened by the influx of a load of new rickshaws so they had made threats and so Mercy Corps decided to sell the rickshaws on instead and use the money to buy tools for a tea co-operative instead, which suited me fine

Nick though had other ideas. He was under the impression that the rikshaws needed to go to a family at all costs. me and Ivan didn't really give a shit where they went cos we figured it was to a good cause.

Nick didn't hand our keys in and was bragging about how he was gonna give the rickshaws out to a family himself like some modern day Robin Hood and bragging about how he was gonna use his leverage in the media to show Mercy Corps up.

I had told him a number of times to pull himself together - I mean it's not like Mercy Corps is out to fuck anyone over - but he wanted to give the rickshaw away himself. me and ivan distanced ourselves from this plan ages ago and we are so easy about things that we just let him rant and rave on his own. Nothing to do with us.

So the Rickshaws go into the Red Cross compound, everyone hands in their keys.

Except Nick who has this idea of stealing it back and giving it to the poor.

And they all go down the bar.

Now 2 runners are in hospital.

Ours was the only available Rickshaw after the lads got pissed up so Nick leant the key to one of the other teams, either the Calamity Crew or the Rajastan Raiders he won't say which. All I know is that one has lost his nose and another has a hole in his face and that they have been rushed to Calcutta hospital.

Ivan was in bed at the time at Wangdis and Nick had to pay 20,000Rs damages to the car that the rickshaw collided with. He's tried to make Ivan pay half too, but the guy wsa in bed for fucks sakes.

I'm glad I'm in Rajastan.

What the hell was Nick thinkin?! He had a go at me when I leant our vehicle to the shrimpers and now he's gone and done this?!

Our sponsors have every right to be furious - they didn't pay for a bunch of drunk lads to go joyriding they paid for a rickshaw to be given to charity.

It's a write-off now and someone is going to have to take the blame.

I know where my finger is pointing...

If I don't write for a while please assume my finger has fallen off

I got a little scratch while playing with a cat last week in Darjeeling in the finger. Nothing big only about 2mm long.

Thought nothing more of it.

Til it started to swell up today and when I knocked it on a banister and nearly passed out in pain I realised that maybe I should have paid a little more attention.



Anyway here's a few pics of me with my infected finger having just burst it with a needle and squeezing the pus out of it.

And I wonder why I'm such a hit with the ladies...

The day I met The President of India driving a rickshaw in Delhi

This has to be the most surreal rickshaw experience of the lot.

With a day to kill in Delhi I decided to take a rickshaw around to the local sites around town and enlisted the overpriced services of this nutcase



who was wandering around at India Gate. The choice was simple. Of all the rickshaws on the block, he simply had the biggest sound system in the back.



After visiting the Mahatma Gandhi Museum and grabbing lunch, our 4-stroke CNG badboy developed engine trouble (surprise surprise) and we had to pull into a garage for a spark plug change, something that, as a Dosa Boy I could have performed at the drop of a hat, considering how many we've burnt out.

While my rickshaw-wallah was seeing to the electrics I noticed a guy sitting on the other side of the gas station forecourt surrounded by a small group of people milling about and looking into his non-standard colour rickshaw.

My curiosity piqued I wandered over for a look.

The guy's rickshaw was pure green on the outside, as opposed to the usual CNG regulation yellow top of Delhi and he had no meter.

But what was really cool was that the INSIDE of his ride was pimped from wall to wall, straight the way around the whole interior, all over the roof in every available space with newspaper clippings.



On closer inspection it turned out that every single headline and picture in the papers was apparently about him!

A little shocked I didn't really know what to say. Suddenly my appearance in the West Bengal Telegraph seemed like a very small achievement indeed. I was in the presence of Greatness.

A little lost for words, I decided that the best course of action was to play it cool and introduce myself to this great man.

"Hi, I'm Andy." I said shaking his hand, "I'm with the Dosa Boys"

I gave him a Dosa Boys card



and he gave me his



"Dr Abdul Kalam" he said shaking my hand

No idea who this guy was I shook his hand and played along.

A quick look on google for Abdul Kalam, however reveals that among other things like contributing to the development of India's first indigenous Satellite Launch Vehicle (SLV-III) which successfully injected the Rohini satellite in the near earth orbit in July 1980, Dr. Abdul Kalam also happens to be the President of India.



Sat in the back of the rickshaw at the time I had no idea why this guy was getting looks from people up and down the street and assumed that it was just because his ride looked so damn cool with it's inside-out pimping.

I had no idea what he was saying to me as I merrily snapped what I thought was a rather cleverly designed three-wheeled shrine to himself, wondering how the heck he managed to get all these rather amazing photos of himself surrounded by bodyguards and headlines with his name on.



It just didn't click at all.

People around me were saying "Do you know who this man is?" and I was like, "Er no"

Even the MASSIVE sign in the front of the vehicle didn't give me any clues.



I've never been the sharpest tool in the box.

By the time I took my last pictures the electrics were back online and my Rickshaw-wallah came over to drag me off, but not without a final pic with the man.



Was he an impersonator? Was he the president? Was he his brother?

I guess we'll never know.

At this rate, I wouldn't be surprised if Tony and Gordon pick me up from Heathrow next week.

Dosa in Delhi

I left the Dosa Boys in Darjeeling yesterday and headed for Delhi (Do I get extra blog points for alliteration?) and met The Shrimpers and Paul from Blunderbuss heading in the same direction so holed up with the old rivals for the night, at a place we found in the Rough Guide called Geet Deluxe.

From my last experience in Delhi, 5 years ago, I suspected that the "deluxe" tag would probably turn out to be a misnomer and I was right. I was so right in fact, that as we rocked up at the place, Paul says

"Erm lads, I'm sorry to say that it's no longer Geet Deluxe. It's just Geet"



As I suspected, Geet Deluxe had now put gaffa tape (that saviour of Rickshaw Runner) over the word "deluxe" perhaps on grounds of misrepresentation.

As we bumbled through the strets towards diner at Metropolis (great Hyderbadi Biryani and Panak Paneer by the way) past countless "government approved" tour operators, one "five-star" hotel which looked like a mechanics garage and countless stalls selling "Rolex"s I had to crack a smile.

Welcome to Delhi!

Rickshaw Withdrawal Symptoms

Last time I came to Delhi, about 5 years ago, I remember the place being dirty, smelly and generally hostile.

For example at one point I got dogshit thrown on the top of my shoe by this guy in a subway, who then kindly offered to clean it off for the equivalent of 70 quid in rupees, assuming that I had just got off the plane. That's when the ability to kick someone in the head comes in very useful.

Although the place still remains pretty hostile, it seems to have cleaned up it's act a bit since then and I've not yet encountered any shit-flicking-wallahs this time around.

In addition to this the air in Delhi has become breathable due to a recent change in the law that means that all Autorickshaws, taxis and buses have to run on Compressed Natural Gas, or CNG.

Now although there are obvious benefits to my health and to the environment I must say that I am not diggin this new CNG thing.

Why's this?

As any Rickshaw Runner will tell you, when you've broken down on the NH5 and a rickshaw-wallah pulls up to admire your 2006 model, 2 stroke petrol+2T Bajaj badboy before helping to fix it up the first thing you say before commenting on his ride is,

"Petrol or Diesel mate?"

So that's cocked up my chances of a decent conversation then...

CNG Rickshaw review

Alright runners, here's the lowdown on the new model Delhi Bajaj RE CNG, cos I know you're dying to know. I've been running around in one all day just for research purposes and I'll post some pictures of the engine up when I get on a decent computer in a week.

From what I could decipher from my rickshaw-wallah who spoke about 4 words of English, they are four stroke and run on this stuff called Compressed Natural Gas, which is cleaner than the crap we were running and hence they smell a bit less.

Top speed is 60k but the drivers here are wusses and keep em low, not like the nutcases in Calcutta. Standard colour scheme is green base with yellow roof so The Shrimpers ride wouldn't look out of place here and there are no pimping variations other than stick-on adverts.



Many have left and right rear windbreaks which would have been bloody useful in our rides on those crazy-freezing night drives, rear wheel arch bumpers (decorative like the rear bumper on ours I presume) and digital faremeters that actually WORK!

None of the rickshaws here are more than 5 years old, but most of em look 10.

But the highlight lads is this. You'll never believe this...

They have automatic start!!!!

Bloody automatic start!!!!

You can switch em on, one click, then with another click your engine just bursts into life!

No messing around with that yank-lever, just twist and go!!!

Man. I want one...