A lot less Indian food was actually consumed than you might imagine. We started off eating it, then it made us ill so we ate nothing at all for a while, then we started back on Western food wherever available, then we tentatively returned to the curries.
Here’s some kebabs we got in Ooty (possibly the source of our Ooty Booty, who knows?). I ordered a Nilgiri kebab, but the guy flat out refused to serve me one, saying it would be too spicy for me and I should pick something else. I appreciated his guidance – I could have used his advice in every restaurant to be honest.
Here’s Mr Beet getting stuck into a thali meal; basically a set lunch with a little bit of everything that you eat with your hands. We never really managed to do this as gracefully as the locals and it was all a bit messy, but fun.
Mr Beet eating a masala dosa the size of the Isle of Wight.
During my recovery period, I started fantasising about mashed potato; really elaborate fantasies that involved peeling, boiling, mashing, ading a little milk, salt and pepper (maybe a knob of butter if I was feeling daring) and sitting down to a whole platerful with a jug of gravy on the side. When we reached Varkala, we found somewhere that did steak and mashed potato. It was not as good as my fantasy mash, but it still went down a treat.















