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We braved a flat tyre, a tiger reserve (zero tigers but plenty of drama), and a mountain road with *trust issues* to reach Ooty. There was beer, altitude-induced huffing, and a fierce chequers showdown.

Fuelled by curry-for-breakfast and hilariously overconfident moped skills, Jamie and I biked across ferries, dodged potholes, waved at school kids, and ruined a perfectly good tuna. What a day!

Biking at sunrise, bargaining for prawns, awkwardly chatting with Prince Charles, and hunting Indian-style Rick Stein—just your average day in Fort Cochin. Oh, and gin with sunset prawns? Divine.

We spent a day at an Indian yoga competition, where tiny kids folded like pretzels, grannies stole the show, and our teacher spiralled over second place. Who knew yoga could be so hilariously dramatic?

Venice Beach was nostalgic chaos wrapped in sunshine and the smell of weed. Between wheelchair antics and a hippie on skates, we found beauty, absurdity, and just a touch of disappointment.

From oversized shirts and accidental fish balls to spontaneous firework-induced deafness and polystyrene ball pits, our Bangkok New Year’s Eve was one chaotic, dazzling blur of laughter, culture, and sheer madness.

We finally started yoga in India—think less "Zen masters" and more "sun salutations with soul diagrams." Throw in a bacon sarnie, boat haggling, awkward bathroom talk, and... our movie debut? Stay tuned!