Nutters: how come they always find me?

Goodness, I don't half find them. I was just having a wander around Udaipur, minding my own business, when this boy of 19 tried to engage me in conversation. His speech was slurred, and one side of his face sloped down, paralysed. It turned out he'd had an accident and had been in a coma for three months. I was a lucky lassie, as he insisted that I tap the top of his head to feel the metal plate. He seemed to be well known to the locals. At one point, as he was bending over writing me a note, an observer slowly circled his fingers above his ear, and murmured in Spanish,"poco loco"; but added that his father was very rich and therefore the boy was tolerated. (Please note: I personally don't think he was 'loco', just a little bit too attentive, didn't get hints to get lost, and was quite rude (although not to me).)

Then, for the next 45 minutes, the boy tailed me back to the guest house. He gave me running commentary spouting some pseudo-philosophical clap trap, which commenced with the utterly disturbing "why are you so pure, and I am so bad?".

What was most fascinating was his reaction to his fellow Indians. For the most part, he commented on their ignorance and greed, pretty vitriolic stuff. At one point -- seconds after Mukesh had lauded how tolerant he is -- a group of pretty young girls came up, smiling shyly, to say "Hello". I gave them a broad smile and said "Hello" back, to which they said "Very well thank you", clearly not understanding the lack of "How are you?". The boy guffawed, pointed at them saying how stupid they were. The girls look crestfallen and walked off sheepishly. (It felt like an episode out of Adrian Mole.)

Anyway, I couldn't shake him. All the way home people stared and a couple of Indians approached and asked (in Spanish again - I don't know why I have been mistaken for Italian, French and Spanish lately, rarely English) whether he was my friend. It was uncomfortable.

I now have an invitation to his house to meet his family... I just hope he doesn't turn up again tomorrow. In the meantime, I now have a whole load of platitudes enscribed in my diary, including the particularly fine: "Roses are red, violets are bluc, people like you, are very few". Choice.

I should count myself lucky. Belen and Jacinta -- who turned up in Udaipur today (it was fab to see them, plus they brought me some shopping I'd left in Jodpur) -- have been followed from Jaisalmer by this one bloke. They have resorted to lying to try and get rid of him. Can you believe it? He turned up in Jodpur and insisted on coming on the bus with them to Udaipur. Freaky.

Enough gossip. Just wanted to share the weirdos with you all.

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