I am back in Delhi, having managed to get a cold in the smouldering cauldron of Rajasthan. How the hell do you get a cold in 40 degrees C?! Anyway, I'm tired, my muscles are aching and I have a wheezing cough. I've tried to wash my clothes, only to find that the bleach somehow turned my white shirts pink, something I never knew was possible. Brina and Matt have both gone to the US, so I'm all alone in the apartment.
Even though most hotels in India boast with having "hot water", this very often seems to consists of a mere trickly of tepid slush, which efficiently eliminates any "non-vital pamperings", since by the time you've lathered your hair (1 min), you discover that you'll now have to rinse it all off with cold water. However, being back in the slightly more civilised Delhi, I took the liberty of taking a looong bath, vigorously scrubbing and brushing away two weeks of accumulated filth and grime. Now I almost, almost feel human again.
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