Today I tried to save a man.

And failed.

The other day I heard that a drowned man had been found at Sweet Lake. Two Russian swimmers with diving masks found him trapped under the water. A god awful tragedy.

Today was much like any other. Lazing on the beach, bit of a swim in the sea and in Sweet Lake. Sweet Lake backs onto a small beach. I had changed rooms earlier today to be closer, it is a very beautiful spot. At about 3pm I was sitting outside my new hut watching the beach when I noticed a small crowd about 50m away.

I went to investigate expecting to find a game going on or some other frivolity. However what I found was a half drowned man on a sunbed with scared and panicking friends and onlookers surrounding not knowing what to do. An ambulance had been called, however the nearest road is a 10 to 15 walk from Sweet Lake. Much longer if one is helping transport a seriously injured man.

The friends and onlookers were using the sunbed as a stretcher to carry the stricken man towards the area where the ambulance should be waiting. As they ran every now and then the group would stop and try some CPR and mouth to mouth. I could see the attempts were panicked and uncoordinated, and tried to remember my dim and distant first aid training. I pushed through, gave the man mouth to mouth and tried CPR. It was at this point I first suspected he had passed.

Never the less we all tried to carry the man along the rocky path towards the ambulance. I think my opinion was in the minority. I did not voice it. The situation was now getting rather panicked. I will never forget the look on the face of the man's close friend. One of panic, fear, disbelief and cold realization. Tears trying to break through but still trying to hold it in so he could do the best for his friend. As we ran the opportunity for me to give CPR and mouth to mouth diminished. Others were trying just as hard. I thought what I could do. At that time I was just running along with the crowd showing concern but not really helping. So I ran ahead to where I thought the ambulance would be. I figured that I could grab a trained paramedic and take him to where he was needed, thus cutting down medical response time.

This is where I was shocked. The ambulance crew were not in the slightest bit interested. All five of them stood there like pointless statues. After explaining that the casualty was being carried along the beach, the crew refused to budge. He is coming here they voiced. I pointed at one and said sternly "First aid. Come". One man did. Very reluctantly. He slowly and impotently put on some rubber gloves and sauntered behind me. I called at him to run and he trotted for about 5 meters before sauntering again By this stage the group had made it to the main beach near to the ambulance. I waved at him to run, pointing at the tragedy. He did not care, sauntered up, looked at the man, tried rather half hearted ineffective CPR before declaring the man dead.

His indifference did not end there. When the man was finally brought to the ambulance, the crew did not want to take him. As he was dead it was a police matter as far as they were concerned. A very short and passionate argument broke out between the bereaved and the ambulance crew. They reluctantly decided to take him. Only there was another problem, someone had parked their car too close to the back door of the ambulance. Why one of the crew did not prevent this I can not begin to imagine. This resulted in an inability for the tired friends (not the ambulance crew, of course) to place the body into the back of the ambulance. After yet more faffing and heart break for those close to the deceased they managed to unceremoniously dump the body over the bonnet of the parked car and into the ambulance. I do not want to imagine what that ride must have been like for those close to him, trapped on the back of that ambulance with the trained imbeciles that refused to lift a finger.

Later that day I swam in Sweet Lake to try and work out how he had drowned. The lake is small, calm and shallow. On average chest deep on me, with only limited areas out of my depth. The poor fellow was smaller than me, about 5'8". People line one side of the lake on sun loungers, with the sea behind them. Getting to him by even a below average swimmer would take seconds, an minute at the most. When giving mouth to mouth I could smell alcohol on him. I can only imagine and assume that he went out, with his friends, into the lake. for a laugh and a splash about. I doubt very much he could swim. Whilst in the lake he must have been startled by something, may be something he saw in the water or something he trod on. Something that felt unfamiliar, perhaps a rock, weed or the mud. At this point he panicked, fell back into the water and took a lung full of water. I guess his friends must have first thought he was playing the fool until realizing that he was in distress.

A very sad waste and I can only feel deep sympathy for his friend who looked so distressed as we all tried our best to get him to help, help that ultimately did not contain the slightest bit of sympathy, use or dignity.

Sweet Lake

Tip

If hiring a scooter to go on a long ride remember to replace the memory card into the camera.

Trials and tribulations.

I can't believe how easy this is. There must be a catch just around the corner, surely, may be, is there? I'm now being paid to sit on a beach. In India. Goa of all places. Some pay thousands to come here. When is the cold sting of reality going to bite? Or have I chased it away?

Sand

Flip Flops

I fucking hate flip flops. How can a piece of foot ware be so utterly uncomfortable. Between my my big and second toe has been placed a cheese wire that constantly grinds until puss and blood spew where skin once lived. And when that gets painfully familiar sand and salt will join the party to make an ever increasing joyful sensation.

Arrival and then to Goa.

Flight was simple, thankfully the plane was half empty granting me three seats to myself. So plenty of room to sleep. The arrival at Bombay international airport was interesting. Since the last time I was there they now seem to have built a proper airport terminal. So no standing in long lines whilst watching crows fly around above my head this time. Just straight through and into a taxi for a quick blast across Mumbai to Vasai Road rail station.

Whilst sitting in the back of the cab lots of memories (mostly nasal) came flooding back. The train ride was fine, cool at night, hot during the morning and many a chai and biryani seller walking up and down the carriage.

First impressions of Anjuna are varied. Its a nice beach, lots of bars etc. But everything shuts rather early now. The famous Anjuna Flee Market is rather tacky. It seems to consist of just five stalls replicated a thousand times. One selling tacky hippy clothing. One selling awful Goa/Psy trance cds. One selling brass ornaments. one selling spices fake and real. And one selling wood carvings. I preferred wallowing in the water. Of the make up of tourists I now hear many more East European voices, especially Russian. Seven years ago I can not remember hearing so many. I guess the demographic has changed.

One thing that is very noticeable is the police presence. The first two nights here I was stopped and searched, and last night they were out again. But this time ignoring me. The bars are full of people smoking weed, and drugs are easy to find. So I guess the police know that they are on to a nice little earner hauling naieve tourists off for a night in the local gaol before recieving the "fine" that allows release.

Off I go again

Not what I planned. The idea was Oxford to Cape Town and beyond. However after registering with indiatrekstudy.com that has been put onto a back burner and I am off to Goa instead. Looking forward to it. A month in the sun sitting on a beach and then I shall head north to Nepal and sit on a mountain. I guesstimate I shall have about a month there until the rain arrives and then, well back to Europe perhaps. I'd like to take the train, perhaps via Pakistan and Iran (dependent on political situation) Or maybe via China and Kazakhstan (dependent on transport links from Khatmandu to Lhasa). Or maybe via Pakistan over the KKM highway into China. Anyway, these are all just idle ramblings at the moment. On Monday I leave. And on Tuesday I arrive. That much I do know.