James Bond and Wild Women

I like to think I am Bond, James Bond. And loved Casino Royale as much as I did, and Daniel Craig in it too, not that variety of Bond. More of the Connery-Moore-Brosnan variety. To an extent, Lazenby too. Oh no, I abhorr violence of all kind (mostly because I am usually at the receiving end of it). The most I can do if asked to kick ass is find a shapely female derriere and pat it. Honestly, I don't know why anyone would ever want to do anything else with a woman's butt. But I digress.

I am Bond because I dress almost as well as he does. Having been in hot countries all my life, I never quite got the hang of wearing a suit. Even so, my suit is tailored well enough to give Armani serious apprehensions over his tailoring. Other than that, my shirts fit me like second skin, the double cuffs are of the perfect width, the fall of my trousers is just right, the knot of my tie is dimpled, my shoes are custom made, and my socks are pulled up to the same height always. In effect, the value of what I wear far exceeds the cash in my wallet.

The self-obsessed rant done, Lagos is not a place for Bond to be in. Especially in the dry season (December to March). My boss and I were driving for a cup of coffee in his SUV on Saturday afternoon. The air was suspended with particles. That coupled with the air-conditioning of the car gave me the feeling of being in Delhi in winters - with the fog and the mist - till I was told of the phenomenon of Hamatan.

Hamatan are dry winds laden with sand that blow from the Sahara towards the South. The effect is more prominent in the dry season. Visibility drops, at times enough to shut runways down. The Lagos skyline is blurred, often for days together. With deforestation having almost cleared the country of forests, the intensity of Hamatan is only going to grow.

I looked out at the sun. Imagine that. Afternoon sun at the equator. It appeared to be an orange that had been lit up from the inside. Beautiful. But I enjoyed all this from the safe confines of a controlled environment. I am sure I am not going to enjoy it when I have to be out in the open, trying to make money for the company. What will my white shirts do?

The evening started out boring. There was an office party that I had to attend, and true to their reputation this one was dull, drab and dreary. At least till I hit the bar. Then the fun began with tequila shots, whiskey shots, and flaming lambourghinis happenning with aplomb. I am not too much of a drinker (yeah, my tryst with Mr. Jack Daniels says otherwise) but I do enjoy the occasional night at the bar.

Sunday afternoon was interesting. We went to a forest. Three weeks in Africa and I finally see a jungle! Saw snakes and lizards and birds and monkeys and peacocks. There were crocs too supposedly but I never saw any. Climbed a tree house. The difficult part was climbing down. It was great fun. For some reason, the wild always brings out the best in me. Be it a wild junlge or a wild woman.

Aside: Me and my woman!