I think I’ve ‘gone native’. A week in India, soaking up their history, eating their food, living their culture, its actually happened. Not that I’m some re-born Hindu (they’re all ‘re-born’; that’s the whole point of being a Hindu), mainly because I have difficulties with having one God. Having 14,000 gods fails to facilitate my scepticism. Though I really like Ganesh. He’s cuddly. Half elephant, half tandoori chef; how bad can he be?

But when I wake up on a Sunday morning and I’m oblivious to the fact that in another world there have been football matches played which effect my team, my life, THE ENTIRE NEW YEAR!!!!, then I know something is profoundly different. Ok, I was minorly hung-over from the New Year party here on the Goan resort, but really. This is football, for Ganesh’ sake, its always on my mind.

And I’d like to thank the many people who sent me security warnings last night when Israel declared Southern India ‘the place most likely’ for terrorist attack on New Year’s Eve. Which caused me something of a dilemma.

What do you do when you think you may be a target? Lock yourself in the room and ram the bed against the door? Not go to the ‘new year extravaganza’ that all hotels in the world force you to attend and you’ve already paid (handsomely) for? Not that its about the money. Its about changing your lifestyle to the point where you may be safer but then ‘they’ have won. Its a moral issue: freedom from harm against free curry. If you change your ways the bad guys have achieved a victory. They don’t want us enjoying our normal freedoms. Well fuck ’em. I hate bad guys. And I love curry. Unfortunately it got a bit too ‘Bollywood’ even for this neo-native, so we still managed to get in the pool for our laps at 8.30 this morning. This is Mel beating the crowds. I was the crowds.

Tragically they did strike last night, but in Istanbul rather than Goa. May they rot in hell.

But we have a new year. Resolution time. Too late to make pledges about Europe, Trump or, so it would seem, Chelsea. And as someone told Mel last night: ‘I’ve already scrapped my resolutions because no-one likes a miserable, sober, skinny bitch’. So my resolutions will be the same as last year. 1. Don’t make any resolutions. Just do what you do but better and most importantly; enjoy it. Or there’s just no point.

Happy 2017

A xxxx