This will be my final entry until I am back in Spain when I will add a summary of the final days in Goa.

The tournament has been going well. None of the Spanish players has a chance of winning the championship yet, but will end up with very respectable positions on the final table. Tomorrow we will know all.

Up until now each round has been played from 2pm, ending at 8pm at the latest (obviously games can be shorter; one of the Spanish players won his game within an hour today). Tomorrow, it all starts at 9am however, meaning we have to be up early. But it also means that once it is all over, we should be able to enjoy a few hours in and by the pool, or sitting at the bar in the centre of one of the swimming pools enjoying a drink.

In the evening we will finish the championship off with the closing ceremony and a party. Over the past ten days, the teams have mixed a little but not to a great extent. This is because they after dinner in the evening, some need to switch off on their own, or go and prepare for the next day’s match. During matches, I have chatted to the German, Austrian, Brazilian, Kazakhstan and Iranian back-up teams quite a bit, and even did some interpreting for the Cuban coach who turned out to be Castro fan. It was quite amusing, I can tell you (s at 9pm,nisle positions on the final d summary of theihis high praise of and sympathy for the Soviet system and former Soviet countries fell pretty much on deaf ears). In addition, I and one of the Spanish players have come away with an invitation to visit Iran! Being honest, I’m not too sure whether I’ll taking it up in the very near future.

Today was a swimming-pool-free day unfortunately. This morning was filled with our final shopping trip in a mad rush to find the final things everyone wants to buy. The outing was generally much more successful. Before leaving we asked previously at the hotel of the best places to go and the prices we should be prepared to pay, and were thus in a much better position to bargain and haggle. Later, as the day’s chess was coming to a close with us all expectant of a refreshing swim under the night sky, the storm clouds rolled over and opened up. So here I am instead, sitting at my laptop with the Pakistan-Sri Lanka cricket match on in the background. No complaints, I promise.
So I will leave you, wishing you all the best, and will write again once back in sunny Spain.

As I write the England top order is being ripped apart by the Indian opening bowlers. And I can’t even watch the misery whilst in India. Goa apparently is not as big on cricket as other parts of the country and a television cannot be set up outside the chess tournament hall (and I wouldn’t fancy going back to my room to watch it there on my own even if I could).

I have not yet mentioned food. We have eaten away from the hotel only once (yesterday when we were taken on an excursion to some local sites of interest). Having said that, everyone seems to have been very happy with the food, which includes a lot of Indian dishes but also has more western food for those not able to cope with the spices. Lamb and chicken are guaranteed to be on the menu every day (in some style of curry or another) and some of the dishes are exquisite.

For those who prefer, curry and other spicy foods are available for breakfast as well. I've found it quite a good way of waking up after a late night playing pool against one of our players in the hotel bar, but have refrained from having it every day as the cold meats and cheeses provided, deserts and pastries also provided are also very tempting.

On our excursion yesterday, after about an hour’s drive in a teeny bus with teenier seats for 25 people (even I was pushed for room) we arrived at a Hindu temple. Unfortunately we were not really given too much information about the temple except that it was built in the 16th century whilst the Portuguese were destroying many other temples in the region. Once I have some more time on the Internet, I hope to find out some more about the temple.

We then headed off to what for many was the highlight of the day, a spice farm. Driving along towards the plantation, we approached hills which rose up gently like bumpy green carpets from the flatter land we had come from. As they stretched out before us more than one of us commented on how the green forest stretched and stretched out around us seemingly without end, and brought to mind how stunning it must be to see the Amazon rainforest from the air.

Just before midday we arrived in sweltering heat at the spice garden and after a refreshing hot infusion of lemon grass, cardamom and ginger, we were taken on a 45 minute walk of the plantation shown plants from which obtain coffee, nutmeg, turmeric, chilli, cardamom, pepper, vanilla and many other spices are obtained. To the delight of one in our party we were also given the recipe for poor man’s Viagra (a couple of teaspoons of ground nutmeg with a spoonful of cardamom, I think it was, stirred into a glass of milk). I might have misremembered the recipe so if anyone wants to find it out for definite, I will ask the aforementioned member of the Spanish group who was taking very careful notes.

Towards the end of the tour of the visit through what was really a small forest, we turned a corner to see standing before us two elephants, one young and one adult who were giving rides to visitors for about €40. A few of the chess competitors paid up and went for the short ride, the elephants cooling themselves from time to time by collecting saliva from their mouths with their trunks and then spraying it over themselves (sometimes catching the visitors, some of whom it took a while to realise where the elephants were getting the so-called water from).
A delicious lunch followed with different styles of food from those we are getting in the hotel, some of them considerably hotter than we have tasted so far. The Spanish team coach was caught out by the mango chutney!

Catholicism has played an important role in Goa, having been a Portuguese colony in the past. Our next stop on the trip took us to a Catholic church (the Old Church of Goa) near Panjim City. Here the saint to whom the church is dedicated is actually entombed in a glass and metal case. We could clearly make out his skull. The church also had an impressive gold altarpiece though information on the church was again sadly lacking.

The short walk of about 100 metres from the church to the bus was like running the gauntlet through hoards of people trying to sell souvenirs, chess sets, jewellery and clothing. The Spanish coach, Jesús, was already getting experienced and adept at haggling and managed to get a couple of bargains (I haven’t yet learned the skill as well as him).

Throughout the afternoon clouds had been gathering in the distance, and much as I feared, the minute we reached Panjim City the heavens opened and in about thirty minutes as much water fell as I think I have seen in Spain since maybe the beginning of June! (OK that may be a touch exaggerated but it gives you an idea). Eventually, as the rain slowed to a steady pour rather than pummelling beads of water, the twenty-five guiris (a Spanish nick-name for tourists) on our bus decided to venture out and try and get some shopping down. Panjim City is the capital of Goa and so one of the best places to go for this. We dashed from shop entrance to shop entrance using the entrance ways as shelter as we tried to move in the direction the market. But it wasn’t to be our day and the heavens spilled forth once again, just as we were in front of a shop designed for people just like us. In trotted the Spanish team, with me as their interpreter trailing behind, but not before I didn’t catch site of an enormous puddle by the pavement, plunging my foot into the mucky brown water and soaking a good part of my left trouser leg.

The Spanish team had by now become more adept at using their limited knowledge of Englishn the market. in the directin oe and so on ince maybe the beginning of June.metimes catching the visitirh their rg rides to visitors arained from it to deal with these situations and I was not required as much as on previous occasions. However, there was of course one deal being made which was more difficult and required my assistance. By the end of all this I was not up to haggling myself, and in addition, I did not really want to buy anything in that shop, preferring the market which the rain had prevented us from reaching. And so we trotted back to the meeting point where the bus would collect us for the return journey.

By the time the bus left it was already getting on for half-past six, and it was not until two hours later that we covered the last of the 70 or so kilometres we had to travel to get home.

The style of driving certainly provided for some additional entertainment en route. Our bus would be struggling up a hill, and so another bus carrying other people from the chess tournament (in total there were five buses) would overtake us, only for our driver to decide that being overtaken really was not on, and he could do nothing but overtake the offender and regain his position, irrespective of other vehicles which were headed our way on the other side of the road. I wonder how often horns have to be replaced here because every time a vehicle overtakes another the horn is used with no shyness. But it is this combined with the fact that no one drives at excessive speeds which must, I think, account for the seeming lack of accidents. Admittedly, we have seen one moped which had been knocked over and a lorry which had its front end crushed, but the latter had clearly been standing at the side of the road for some time (possibly months). To be quite honest, once one gets used to the style of their driving, it becomes considerably less scary. And it is much more preferable than travelling on the M-30 motorway around Madrid.

The chess tournament is going reasonably for the Spanish team though none of them really have a chance now of winning. Indeed none them expected to win from the outset and one has told me that he has a good few points more than he expected.

I will add more in the next couple of days. For now, I hope you are all well.

After a slightly later breakfast this morning (with no official tournaments events to attend this morning), three of the Spanish players and I grabbed a taxi to the nearest town, Margao, to do some shopping. Our driver took us initially to a store on route to see very expensive souvenirs, carpets, jewellery and the like which we didn’t really want (they of course get commission on anything that you buy for taking you there). We said that we wanted the local market and eventually arrived there after travelling through some mad traffic jams which everyone went through very calmly – none of the hectic stress one sees in Madrid! (Though they do like using their horns).

The stench of cattle in town passageways was overwhelming, mopeds were parked everywhere (it almost seemed that it was a city of mopeds rather than people) and shopkeepers kept trying to tempt us into their shops. We eventually followed one lady into a shop which she shared with a number of other people selling their wares. Hers were jewellery, others had clothes or shoes. Price-setting was quite amusing being as everything had to go through me, but with her goods spread out on the floor around us, prices were finally agreed and everyone came away fairly contented.

We were back at the hotel just in time for lunch, after which the afternoon's round began. Today was a medium day for us with two matches won and two lost. One of the losses was against a high-ranking Russian and was therefore not too disappointing. I am at least learning a little about chess walking around and watching the progress of the matches.

A small story of one of the players on our team. Until the age of 23 he had excellent vision and played various sports to a good standard. Then one day he had a car accident. His car, going at about 60km slid on something and spun off the road into a lampost. As the vehicle stopped he had virtually no injuries. But all of a sudden, the streetlamp above shattered and fell, crashing through the windscreen with splinters of glass shattering into his eyes. He lost his vision for six months, but after that regained some of the vision in one of his eyes. And he still plays basketball. Another of the guys had an illness at 16 which caused degeneration of the eyes. Two pretty impressive stories from a couple of guys I have thoroughly enjoyed going out for drinks with after finishing our days tasks. A lie-in is called for tomorrow, followed maybe by a jacuzzi.

Blog for Tuesday, 9th October 2006

The cloud cover we had on arrival has now cleared, the blue skies making the humidity much more bearable. All the same, the combination of ubiquitous air-conditioning and the humidity outdoors makes just sitting about thirsty work.

Today’s results were the reverse of yesterday’s with Spain winning just one of its four matches (Oscar being the one to tuck the victory under his belt, meaning that everyone has now won one and lost one).

I am here as an interpreter and most of the time it is a comfortable job. However, on occasions some of the organisers (Indian people) are very difficult to understand as a result of their strong accents and the speed with which they speak.

Time is already whizzing by. Outside the six hours of chess competition each day, we have so far been involved in meetings and presentations. Once the competition is over the team has been going to one of the outdoor pools for a dip before dinner. The hotel also puts on a number of events each day and this morning after a chess programme launch we went to a snake-handling demonstration given by a local who travels around the region raising awareness of snakes. We initially saw a slide show of snakes from all around the world. One, from India, has the head the shape and colour of a pointy leaf to help it hide in trees. Apparently many locals think that the snake wants to use its pointy nose to bury itself into one of your ears, eat your brain and come out of the other ear. The truth is that were the snake to try and do so, it would break its nose. After the slideshow was over we were taken outside to see some snake-handling. The first snake out of the bag was a small one which comfortably fitted on one’s hand. The sensation as the snake tensed and relaxed its muscles to move was quite peculiar. There then came a fast-moving, vicious biter which we were most definitely not allowed near. In fact, on a couple of occasions when it stretched out further from its handler it made us all jump back. I managed to get some video of this. The final snake out of the bag was a python which we were allowed to touch very gently whilst its handler held its head quite firmly! The skin, although on the point of being shed, was incredibly smooth.



Swimming in the sea is forbidden during the monsoon season (and we have come here at the end of it) due to the dangerous currents which the extra waters flowing out of rivers cause. A pity, but a stroll down to the beach will definitely be the order of the day before the week is out.

We have now been at the Radisson White Sands Resort in Goa for over one day. Today’s chess has ended with the Spanish players winning three matches and losing one in the XI Individual World Chess Championship for the Blind.

We are staying at a five-star hotel and it comes up to scratch in many ways, particularly with its fitness centre and swimming facilities. After the day’s chess the whole Spanish took a dip in one of the pools as the dark of evening set in, the pool lit from underneath and virtually no one else around. Bliss.

The journey here went generally well but included the odd complication. There are four players in the Spanish team in addition to the team coach and coordinator and myself. Two of the players flew into Heathrow from Barcelona whilst the rest of the team flew there from Madrid. Those of us who flew from Madrid were told that our luggage would be transferred automatically after each flight whereas those from Barcelona were told they would have to collect their luggage in Mumbai and check it in again there for the domestic flight to Goa. Once in Mumbai, we went with the Barcelona pair to help them collect their luggage, and it was fortunate that we did so as our suitcases also came out there, and had we not gone there and been able to pick them up, they would not have made the final stretch of the journey.

Getting to the domestic flight terminal was also fun with our passports being checked countless times. The chess clocks we were carrying in a large wheeled metal case caught the attention of the security guards on a number of occasions. Each of the guards was very proper in dealing with the situation, enquiring into what was in the box and requiring an explanation, sometimes wanting to see the clocks. However, when you have just gone through the whole process just 50 metres behind with a member of the same security team it can get a little tiring. Equally, more security is better than less and we had plenty of time before the next flight.

Our journey from Goa airport to the hotel also made for an interesting experience. The initial road we took was a dual carriageway. We passed groups of helmetless youths on mopeds who road as if they had no care in the world, or thought themselves to be immortal. And there were cattle sprawled across the central reservation, their heads or rears resting on the road if they were not munching on grass. The taxi driver negotiated them without batting an eyelid.

And then came the country road, thin and winding just like in Galicia or the Lake District, but with large palm trees all along the route, with colonial-style houses dotted here and then and a constant traffic of people walking with their loads on their heads, cyclists carrying umbrellas to protect themselves from the steady drizzle which was falling, mopeds, sometimes with three people happily astride them, and of course other cars, some of which tried some pretty scary manoeuvres. But our taxi driver had everything under control and after the 40 or so minute drive through lush greens brought out by the monsoon which is now at its end, a weary but happy Spanish team arrived at the hotel and championship venue.

On the route we followed we did not see any real poverty. Obviously, the majority of people were not particularly well off but I saw no one that gave me the impression that they lived in the atrocious conditions one hears about. On the final approach to Mumbai, however, we saw an enormous shanty town with its metal shacks stretching almost to the end of the runway.

With a bit of luck we will be going on a trip to local sites. It will be good to get away from the hotel, which is pretty isolated and transport is needed to go anywhere except maybe the beach (a five-minute walk away, although at present bathing is banned and will only be allowed once the monsoon is completely over).

A final comment for tonight (which goes without saying) is that this is naturally a paradise for any cricket fan, not that we have the chance to play, but that the vast majority of times that one turns the television on, there is some cricket on at least one channel (and usually more). But more of that in my next blog.