A Close Shave

The laziness continues as we mooch from home, to a cafe, to the internet place, to the grocery store and back home again. The fruit and veg stall owner nearby now recognises us and gives us a cheery wave as we pass by. It is all too easy to settle into this place and this lifestyle. It is important not to let yourself go however. There is no excuse for looking like a crusty dreadlocked hippy just because Goa is a mere stones throw away. There is also no need to with a good selection of “Gent’s Beauty Parlours” on offer.

I settle into the 100 year old leather barbers chair, ask for a trim and tidy and hand my welfare over to the friendly proprietor. This is the third time in my life I have had a cut throat razor shave and despite what you may think I find there is something profoundly relaxing about letting a perfect stranger near your jugular with a fresh blade. No Mach 3 technical wizardry can get you as close as this and let’s be fair, shaving is a metaphorical and quite often literal pain in the neck when I do it myself. In the hands of a consummate professional however it is a treat to be savoured, and one I intend to indulge in regularly over the next 9 months. Perhaps I should write a book… 80 Shaves Around The World!?