Throughout the journey I would wake up with the Indian man next to me stroking my arm, holding my leg or with his arm fully around me. Numerous times I would get up in pure rage from being touched and have to flick or physically chuck his limbs back in his direction and say harshly ‘Don’t touch me. You don’t need to touch me. Keep to your side. Why do you have to get so close?!’

To which I would always get the response of ‘Oh sorry, sleeping’ as if each occurrence was an accident. I was not impressed and have since realised that single sleepers may be a bit more money but at least when there are arms wrapped around you, it’s only yours.

Thankfully the touchy feely man got off 2 hours before I was to, giving me extra space to stretch out. I removed my clean feet from his seat for a split second and another randomer took advantage of this moment and sat down beside me. Given the lack of sleep, discomfort and stress with my previous seating neighbour, this was the last thing I wanted and needed. I was most certainly not in the mood for a chat with someone who has his own seat in his own name at the back to sit next to me to what felt like to be a purpose annoyance.

With my iPod having already been playing music into my ears and my eyes consistently drifting shut, I explained that I was very tired and not in the mood for conversation. I continued with ‘Sorry, but I really need to sleep now’

He wouldn’t accept this and wanted to know what country I was from, how long I was in India, whether I was married, where my parents were… (Classic Indian conversation)

I felt as though I was very rude at the time, but I simply was not in the mood for a police interrogation from a stranger. As soon as he popped outside at the next stop, I rudely placed my bag onto the empty seat beside me and slept the rest of the way. I’m ashamed to admit that my patience and tolerance level seems to be decreasing.

And THIS is the only reason that I have decided to visit Goa. I had always been adamant that I wasn’t to visit Goa exclaiming that ‘It’s not even India!!’ and it’s just where young holiday makers go to get drunk, do drugs and have plenty of sex. I was in India for none of those reasons and so it seemed pointless to even consider going.

But it turns out that this girl needs some time to chill out on a less hassled beach with some Westerners so that my body can re-gain some patience and tolerance for all the haggling, negotiating and question answering that I would have to deal with for the rest of my trip.

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