I’ve thought about putting this down in type for a while, it’s not so much about photography, but rather an adventure I had, over a few days – long ago, whilst I was shooting work for a solo exhibition I was due to have in London. I was younger and fitter then and I’m not sure that I would cope so well now!
The events take place in India – Cochin and Goa in March 1992, part of a trip to India I had planned and looked forward to for the better part of a year. I look back on it now 30 years later with a smile upon my face. Yes, there were a couple of events!!
Images from this post and part two are not my best and badly copied from transparencies, as I lack the equipment I need for good copies and many of my better images – sadly, I can’t find. These two posts are more about the events and story, rather than the images. The three days in which these events take place were a time, when I was ill and travelling, and I hardly shot anything – my mind was on other things, as you will see…
I landed in Cochin, after a flight I had taken from Trivandrum and leaving my bags in my hotel I set off for lunch at the Taj Malabar Hotel. The setting for the hotel was spectacular on a peninsula of land overlooking the water and harbour. It was beautiful and I remember thinking that if/when I got married, I’d come back to Cochin for my honeymoon…and 9 years later, I did just that and I stayed at the Taj Malabar. Towards the end of the meal, I felt tired, perhaps it was the heat, and decided to go back to my hotel and lay down for a bit, have a short rest, then go out.
It wasn’t the heat and things seemed to be going downhill…I arrived back at my hotel, my head swimming and I was soon in a pretty bad state – diarrhea and vomiting. I spent the next few hours, either laying on my bed or in my bathroom – thank goodness I had booked into a good hotel – my room and all the facilities were lovely – it makes a difference, especially when you’re ill and far away from home or anyone you know. It was not the first time I’d been ill like this India, nor was it to be the last…but here and now, the difference to the other times being, I was alone. I really felt alone – and miserable.
After a few hours in my room, I roused myself out of bed, onto my feet and went down to one of the hotels restaurants, it was now dark and dinner service was in full swing. I didn’t feel like eating anything, but I new I had to – I needed to keep my strength up and get well soon, because I was here to shoot. My aunt and uncle had provided me with a few packets of Electral powder for rehydration (just in case), over the next couple of days I used them all and bought more – I needed them. A plate of rice was all I remember eating that evening.
Back in my room, shortly after, I was lying on my bed and as bad as I was feeling, I wasn’t feeling sorry for myself, I was planning what my next move should be. I had arrived in Cochin on a Friday (and I had shot not a single frame) – tomorrow was Saturday and I had already booked myself a half day tour around Cochin. Should I cancel it, rest tomorrow and do the tour on Sunday? No. Cochin was pretty much closed on a Sunday – I remember reading that somewhere…the solution was simple - it would have to be Saturday. I had an early night and fortunately a good night’s sleep and rest. The Electral had flushed my system and rehydrated me.
I woke the next morning feeling pretty drained, but the nausea had gone and though tired and weak from yesterday, I was in a better frame of mind. After a light breakfast, I picked up my camera bag and left for the Taj Malabar Hotels jetty. I was to pick up my tour’s ferry from there.
Standing on the dock, waiting for the ferry to arrive, I do remember feeling tired from the short journey – mostly by auto-rickshaw, I wasn’t feeling great and hoped the nausea wouldn’t return. There was no question that I was going to continue – Cochin, at that time, closed shop on Sundays (not everything, but enough) and I was booked on an onward flight to Goa on Monday morning. I’d have to get through today…I could rest tomorrow.
The ferry turned up about ten minutes later, though it seemed a lot longer at the time, all I could see as it pulled up to the dock was the claret and blue shirt on the top deck – West Ham United – I have been a life long fan! I don’t remember if I walked up the stairs with dignity, I suspect it was a totally undignified dash and I plonked myself down into the empty seat next to the claret and blue shirt!
The claret and blue shirt was called Ian Holt and his girlfriend, was Mandy, I had never seen them before in my life, but I was really glad to see them here and now. I also knew in that instant that God is a West Ham supporter, for if I ever needed a friend or friends, they turned-up at that moment! We spent the entire day together.
Their company and friendship was the medicine I needed that day, I wasn’t well enough to have got through it on my own. The fact was I wasn’t truly well enough to be out in the hot sun, shooting or doing anything, let alone by myself, the sensible thing to have done, that day, was to have rested. The morning was spent on the tour we had booked and by lunchtime it was over. I don’t remember where we had lunch, but I do remember they very kindly insisted (I wasn’t going to argue, I was grateful for the company) that I come back with them to their hotel, which was far more central than mine and once there, I lay down on one of the beds in their room and whilst chatting, I drifted off to sleep.
I awoke in the late afternoon feeling rested and relieved for the timely company and friendship I had received, as when one is ill and alone, the world does not seem like a friendly place, especially from home and anyone you know. We chatted for hours, had dinner together and talked long into the evening and night.
It’s funny how small details stick in one’s mind…the house band was quite good; they were doing covers and I the only song I remember them playing was Black Velvet – Alanah Miles. It’s also funny how life twists and turns in directions you never see coming…years later I would become friends with Debra Samuels who produced all Alanah Miles photography for Alanah’s first four years, not to mention the many years she also spent with Rush! Debra, in turn would also introduce me to another friend who has become important to the work I produce. And is now, a good friend, and one of the most creative people I have ever met.
Ian and Mandy gave me some good advice… and that was to leave for Goa tomorrow, saying that Sunday was very quiet in Cochin and also my aunt would be waiting for me in Goa. There was no point in me being here tomorrow alone, when I could be with family. A good point. I would have to see if I could have my flight changed – something that’s a lot harder to do these days – without paying a pretty penny.
Taking my leave of Ian and Mandy at around 10.00pm, I was on an autorickshaw, speeding through the warm, humid Cochin night back to my hotel, thinking about how I was going to get my flight changed and also let my aunt know I was coming a day early, if indeed my flight could be changed. On arrival at my hotel, the young woman on the desk in the lobby was very friendly and helpful, telling me she would phone the airline and try and get me on the early morning flight tomorrow – the only one that day. She didn’t seem too confident about it and I silently shared her feelings, as I took myself up to my room. However, within 20 minutes, the phone rang, she had done it! I would be leaving for Goa tomorrow morning…and early too. It was nearly 11.00pm now, I hadn’t been able to contact my family, phone lines in India could be hit-or-miss back then, but I did get a good night’s sleep and the much-needed rest my body was craving. I could deal with the rest tomorrow.
Tomorrow was another day…and I had no idea what was coming!