On Tuesday evening, after two days of conference, Brian is off to an individual meeting with poets / painters. The rest of our group wants to get some food, and we fancy the restaurant Purohit where we had been the first evening. Fortunately I had recorded our walking track with my GPS, and so it is no problem to find this place. This time we do not have any Gujarati / Hindi speaking local with us, so we only can communicate in English and with gestures. But it works - there is only one set menu anyway, and the waiters again begin their procedure of filling all the metal cups on our metal plates with the nice spicy stuff.
I feel a bit tired - maybe the air conditioner had blown a bit too strong into my neck, as I feel the need for sneezing.