Sparkling blue waves, tipped with white foam, gently washed onto the glaring shores of Kerala. Palm trees, abundant in nature, lined the quiet country road. They rose tall, over shadowing sections of the perfect beach. Fish, turtles, coral and other aquatic life forms could be seen through the crystal clear water. The beach was vacant of any rubbish, which was surprising for India. It was the perfect holiday location. A five star clubhouse resort, the Cambay Palm Lagoon, faced the ocean, its white, spotless walls watching over the vast expanse of water. The resort’s gleaming terracotta roof reflected the brutal rays of the sun. The picture-perfect beach was incredibly engaging. At least, it was in the brochure…

Dark grey waves, littered with local children, crashed heavily onto the polluted shore. Withering trees lined the busy city road. Cheerful swimmers were the only thing that could be seen through the murky waters. Empty coke bottles and discarded cigarettes were scattered across the once beautiful seaside escape. The occasional squatter could be seen through the dreary, grey mist. The dilapidated slums were surrounded by deprived children, scavenging for food and money from passing tourists as they were swallowed up by the fog. A rundown shack that used to be a magnificent hotel faced the ocean, its crumbling, concrete walls watching over the vast expanse of water. Shadows of its former glory could be seen through the stairwell and the rotting doors. The tarnished gold railings were shedding paint. A moth-eaten rug was positioned on the damp floorboards. A lone man sat behind a desk inside, waiting for any potential patrons.

A man outside was watching the hotel with distaste. His double breasted Armani suit was spotless and his horn-rimmed glasses were perched dangerously on the tip of his nose. A name tag belonging to the (local hospital) read ‘Dr Simon March’. Dr March was a very important person and according to him he didn’t belong in a place like India.

 He briskly stepped inside the hotel, careful not to get his expensive designer shoes sullied. The man inside welcomed him warmly, as he had been waiting for a tourist for the whole day.

            “Welcome, Sir! Would you like to book a room?” he asked in a bad English accent.

            “Yes, for two nights please,” replied Dr March hurriedly.