Every morning, the choices in Goa on our palm-lined beach were the same: pineapple or coconut crepes? Swim or sun? Read or walk?
But in India, peace is only for a moment. We had many visitors at the beach, the most persistent – and cutest – being the peanut-wallah. Every day, he would come to us and offer his wares. Every day, Paul would ask him inscrutable questions. And every day, he would return.
I think Paul eventually bought the whole bucket of peanuts, which inevitably attracted the drum-wallah, the fruit-wallah, the lungi-wallah, and a legion more.