Not to put too fine a point on it, it’s been pissing it down all day. One of the side effects of the monsoon, that I hadn’t considered hitherto, is that a lot more people get in their cars. Add ‘a lot more people’ to the squillions already driving in this ridiculous city and you get what I just had: a six-mile journey that takes two hours. Suddenly, the thought of working 8 till 4.30, and trying to beat the traffic, doesn’t bring me out in quite so much of a cold sweat.
But still there are sights to warm the cockles, including couples clinging to each other on the lovers walk of the Marine Drive shoreline, soaked to the bones as the French say. And they don’t even have the usually stunning view of the Queen’s necklace to spark their romances: you couldn’t see more than about 100 feet. They must be in love.
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