Last Christmas

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the train not a creature was stirring, not even a foot-long train station rat; The stockings were hung at the end of train beds with care, in hopes that Saint Nicholas would soon be there; The children were nestled all snug in their beds, while visions of paneer tikka masala danced in their heads.

In just over a couple of hours, we will wake the boys for possibly the strangest Christmas of their lives. Indeed, Christmas Eve has resembled nothing like it normally would. I must admit that at this time of the trip a little twang of homesickness hits me, as I think about family and friends back home. We can't wait to talk to you all tomorrow. But before that, here is a quick sickness update, followed by our Indian Christmas Eve. Please excuse the relatively brief summary but, to be honest, we haven't done an awful lot today, and the group has loved it:

Will Pretty, Lachie Dickson, and Aaron Wyllie are largely back to full health, but just easing back into the spicy food. Richard Boswell remains a bit crook, but assured me he will be back to 167% very shortly, and Miller Hawkesby is still on the mend.

Monday 24 December

10am – after the antics of the previous evening, the boys were treated to a welcome sleep in. Breakfast orders were to be handed in by 10, but other than that they were free to get up as they pleased. The largest fine of the trip so far was handed out to Rapson, after he appeared at breakfast with my security pouch mistaking it for his own. It was pointed out that not only should he be fined for stealing a member's passport, he should also be fined for misplacing his own. Rightly so. That'll be 750 rupees, Thomas, cheers.

11:00am – the group enjoyed their final feed at Atithi Guest House. Michael Derevianko is at this point 60% chocolate sauce after he consumed his 20^th consecutive chocolate pancake for breakfast.

12:00pm – rooms were cleaned out and bags were packed. Miller Hawkesby once again turned this simple process into a marathon effort as he located all his socks which were now in every nook and cranny in his room.

12:30pm – we met our tuk tuk drivers for the final time outside the hotel. These legends had coloured our experiences in Jaipur once again and after one final speaker-blasting ride it was time to say goodbye.

2:00pm – we boarded the JP Superfast to Mumbai, due for arrival at 7:40 tomorrow morning. By my maths, that's 17 hrs and 40 mins later. The challenge was reiterated to Mr. Crook – "seriously, just go to sleep" – and the boys began their marathon scum game. On the 2013 tour, the train from Mumbai to Goa was a day train, and a group of 4 champions/crazies played scum for the entire train journey. In 2017, the time had come to finally beat this effort.

2:31pm – boredom set in and the scum playing was over. Terrible efforts lads, 2/10.

Onwards – the boys engaged in some awesome conversation, played cards and blogged for the rest of the evening.

Thought – people may not remember exactly what you did, or what you said, but they will always remember how you made them feel. I can't say I was a particularly large Maya Angelou fan. In fact, I confess I barely knew who she was until she passed away in 2014. However, when she did die, I remember reading this famous quote of hers. Now, sitting on this train somewhere in the vast plains of India, I reflect on how accurate it is for this country. In years to come, the boys (not for want of trying) will no doubt forget some things about this experience. They will forget some small conversations, the day-to-day activities. However, I challenge anyone to travel through this country and forget the impression the Indian people make on you.

MVP – Thomas Bram Rapson. Before we departed for India, it was decided that young Rapson and I would share the writing of the blog, alternating our days. This process has worked very well for us, and we hope it gives two different perspectives as well. However, a hazard of the role has been that every morning, as I meet Rapson down at breakfast, I'm always greeted by a "sir, will today be the day?", followed by a disturbed breakfast as he pleads with me to be rewarded with this honourable title. I have repeatedly stressed that this honour is only given to those who deserve it. He even asked me to just make up a story, about how he'd done something "real cool aye" but this section is definitely always 100% true, so I would not fabricate a story to validate him. However, Christmas is all about giving to those less fortunate. And I am a giver. While many will open presents tomorrow, Rapson will get to wake up to this beautiful gift. So, Thomas, Merry Christmas and enjoy your MVP award.

Reuben

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