My first trip for the year - a King Kong-sized adventure.

Pondicherry. (I believe i am revisiting my past and putting silent ghost-forms to rest. There was Goa last year, and Coorg as well.)

Our journey to the town was disastrous. Do NOT travel by Red Bus. EVER. The service is terrible. Hell on wheels. Death Proof reminiscent - it's like only the driver was safe in his seat, the rest of us were as vulnerable as insects on the highway. They delayed the bus by two hours, then put 60 of us in a rickety six-wheeler, sent us 20 kilometres out of the city to board the bus, caused another half hour of confusion and made us stand on the highway like w****s waiting for truck drivers to pick us up. It was humiliating, infuriating and above all, disgusting. I'm planning to take them to Consumer Court. Or whatever Court it is that will hear me out.

We reached The French Villa at 7 the next morning, all worn out by the drive. Freshened up, ate a hearty Continental breakfast with well-done eggs, toast, butter, jam and fresh fruit. Had another fiasco about renting a bike, walked a lot, put a lot and like good children (for the first time in our lives, i'm sure) went to bed at 8:30 p.m. Oh, and had a super-relaxing foot massage as well. And some good food.

The next day was more fun. We totally took the trip of a couple of guys who'd apparently driven down from Pune to Pondi for the weekend. Apparently, one of them was the guy who provided the bikes for Dhoom 2, while his cousin was in Service Management for Nokia. We were so engrossed in kicking butt that we didn't realise it was time to leave for the bus stop and board our bus back to Bangalore till it was too late. Besides, neither of us were looking forward to the ride back. So we decided to stay in Pondi for the night, and took the bartender - a nerdy 22-year fresh from Hotel Management - out for a couple of drinks on us.

Rode back the next morning with a bunch of really sweet musicians who played at the Freedom Jam the previous night.

Overall, it was quite a trip. For the first time in my travelling history, I:
... abstained from wearing shorts, and wore capris instead. Only because shorts were riding up and Pondi is a bloody lecherous place.
... didn't give a damn about being stared at (whatever little that happened, because B was the focus of all attention). Maybe i've just grown up.
... rode a bike on foreign land, and that too doubles. (Even if it was for half a kilometre because the bike ran out of petrol.)
... spoke to strange Indian men and took their asses.
... took a total stranger (the bartender) out for drinks.
... showed the middle finger to two AHs without worrying about my safety.
... called the bus driver who took us to Pondi all sorts of names without worrying about my safety. Again.
... missed a bus. Intentionally, too.
So it's true, what they say about the New Year Eve setting the pattern for the New Year: i am, indeed, meeting a lot of new people and doing a lot of things i've never done before!