General Purpose

Someone's pride and joy. Apart from the wheels, it looked reasonably authentically WWII.
Last day.
And, in a relaxing change, we had no retinue of servants to make us feel awkward.
We had sorted out a taxi for 10PM and, over the last few days, we had passed 5 separate taxi drivers who said "10:00 Saturday!" to us. "Yes!" we replied, 5 times, "10:00 - PM! evening!" At 10 to 10, a (sixth) driver turned up. That's 9:50 AM!

After a last afternoon on the beach, no run and curry at Q-BAA, we went back and packed in time for a 7th taxi driver to turn up at 10:15. But at least it was PM.

Frazer runs one of the taxi firms and spent the journey to the airport selling his firm to us. His people were much better than the government people who are based at the airport. He was an enthusiastic advocate of Goa and himself. He was also the worst driver I have ever met.

At the airport we enjoyed more Indian beaurocracy. People would check our passports even though they had watched us walk the 10 metres from the last person who checked out passports.