Goa Update: I Was NOT Tempted.

There you are, folks! As promised, Maniak has decided to be thoroughly useless by being sketchy on the details, possibly because of his alcohol induced stupor, so I'm going to have to take over and oblige you with more than you could ever imagine. Plus, he only talks about himself, so I'll have to do the talking 'bout me part.

Before you read any further, I'd recommend reading Part I, Part II and PartII of Part II (especially this one if you're not big on a lot of reading, in which case, I'm wondering why you're still here) of Maniak's miniseries to help you with a frame of reference. I'll wait. Also, I'd prefer if you opened in a new tab and didn't go away leaving me all alone.

Che, you owe me for this. Four links in the same post. Damn.

Back? So, yeah, if you went to Part II, and are wondering, no, I'm not going to plug my ad unless the good people ask for it. How completely shameless of me. Anyhoo. Moving on.

Coolness. So you know what we're talking about.

Now when our Outbound Expert (OE) was explaining this thingie to us, I got the distinct impression we were going to have to do this for real. I had visions of me bravely balancing on a plank trying to get across a sea of acid (yeah, my OE said acid, Maniak's said lava) and swinging nimbly from tree trunk to branch to safety. All those visions were shattered when we saw where this was happening. On a concrete floor. That was probably made to be a volleyball/beachball court of some torturous sort.

Now our stint at Temptation Crossing came after about an hour of waiting for 6 of the other 11 teams to finish. We'd been watching teams like Maniak's doing their thing, finding their own way across, and decided that we need a major team meeting to decide on strategy. At said meeting, we determined that immunity is a vital thing for life in general, and that as many of us as possible should try to attain it. When we started out to do it, however, that equation chaged drastically.

We realised that what we'd been pointing at and saying, "He shouldn't do that, he should do this!" wasn't remotely as easy as it looked. Nevertheless, it became my job to get across the first stage, come back, and now happily immune, help every last one of my team members across. Believe me, bending to pick up tiles, walking around a person, and placing them back on the ground, only to repeat it several times so the person may proceed, is not a fun thing to do. Especially if you like your thighs and calves not to burn. While I was screwing my legs over for the rest of the week thus, two of my teammates who I had already taken to Checkpoint One moved on through the second phase. By the time I was done getting the last team member across the first stage, they had returned to Checkpoint One, earning them immunity there.

And then the great carrying began. I was lifted bodily (and rather effortlessly) and taken to checkpoint 2 before I even knew what was happening, while the rest of my team strategised how to get everyone else across, seeing how I'm an featherweight and everyone else isn't. Eventually, the two warriors decided, to hell with it. We can carry anyone. And so, while I broke into stage three, they carried every single person to Checkpoint Two.

Stage three was pretty simple. Jump from circle on the ground to circle on the ground slightly further away. Then walk on the kind of beam you'd have trouble keeping a nail balanced on. Then do the whole jumpy thingie again, with an even greater distance. Oh wait, that's just one way. I had to do it again. In reverse. Unsurprisingly, seeing how this is pretty much how I spent the first fifteen years of my life, I managed it rather easily, if I may say so myself, and was received with much amusement and amazement back at Checkpoint Two. After helping one of the macho men across and back, we proceeded to carry most of the team across this stage too. Our team captain, however, refused to have this happen, claiming there wasn't a chance in the world that we'd be able to carry her. Jumping wasn't a strong suit either. So we went with the next best alternative. They said you couldn't step in the acid. They never said anything about immune feet on the acid. So the vice-captain and I offered our feet, on which, apologising profusely, out team captain trod one by one, getting across to the other side. We got like the second best time! Woo the hoo!

Anyway, after an activity like that, with thighs still not feeling the sting, I still wanted to stay at the resort. And then along comes Maniak with the Bunny Singh, all chirpy about stepping out of the resort to go have dinner out. I was initially resistant, but the simple arguments of 'good seafood' and 'cheap alcohol' won me over. When we got to the place that sounded a lot like Burrito, Maniak introduced me to an old friend of his, an acquaintance of mine, a rather elderly abbot. Thereafter, Kurtnirvana (who shall from this day forth be called Chinti, Charlie, Chiqita, or anything else I may make up) showed up with Linti, who was for the day, a vegetarian and so missed out on the *stares wistfully at ceiling* Calamari in Butter Garlic Sauce and the Goan Pork Chilly Sausages.

A little later, more guys from P******m decided to come to the same place, and a rather bright chap decided to buy me another friar. Having a couple of the neophytes, I was a little bit unsteady on my feet (though not as much as on the last day, we'll get to that someday), but the lot of us still set out to the beach next to the restaurant. Here, I promptly threw myself onto the sand, staring at the sky postulating the universe as an entity. Maniak will disagree. After spending a few hours here, we decided to head back to the resort, maybe catch some sleep.

Of course, once we got there, those plans changed. A bunch of people were generally chilling by the pool, but apparently decided that they needed to cool off further. So one by one, P******mers were rather unceremoniously introduced to Mr. Pool. Now, being prone to pneumonia, I decided the safe, and rather wussy course of action would be to run up to my room and hide. But, in true Maniak style, I decided WTF, let's just do this. Seeing three people wading out of the pool and heading menacingly towards me in an effort to reinforce that decision, I hastily removed all valuables from my person, and running in a much more effective circle (my attackers were hampered by the fact that they were sopping wet), I jumped rather ungracefully and ceremoniously into the pool.

At around 2.30, when I decided that I've cheated death (read fever) enough, I stepped out of the pool, collected my things and headed back to my room, realising that my roommates were perhaps long asleep. I weighed the pros and cons of going back and staying in the pool till they woke up, but finally, with a heavy heart and shivering fingers, I just rang the bell till one of them woke. Does the story end here? Of course not! You wanted details, remember?

Now, when one has just thrown oneself into a swimming pool with all of one's clothes on, the first thing one wants to do when one gets to one's room is to sneak into the bathroom, extricate oneself from said items of clothing and dry oneself off. But of course, the fates must conspire! My bathroom door was locked. From the inside. When both my roomies were outside. Leaving this mystery to be solved another day, I salvaged what pride I had left by changing and drying off in the dark.

Stories from the morning onwards will appear in time.

I thank you for your patience, if you made it this far.