Take the youthful Panickar couple from Vadakkan-cherry, Mr Manickavasagam from Tirunelveli or the complete Tripathi clan from Gorakhpur—all of them only as imaginary as they are real. If any of them had their way, most of their LTC trips would see them lining their big toes against passing sails even as their bodies rubbed the beach sand in numerous little frictions of contentment. Anywhere, that is, in the wide V they have to choose from: Daman and Diu, Goa and Kovalam, to Marina, Gopalpur and Puri. And if windows of opportunities existed, they wouldn't mind snoozing away their two weeks of vacation without the kind of qualms that would dampen the holidaying spirit of, say, the Chatterjees. There is nobody curiouser than the Bengalis when it comes to sightseeing. They want to map, document and memorise everything that moves and, even more so, everything that doesn't—huge, stationary objects of stone or marble that have been stuck some place by the Mughals or the Cholas or the Dilwara rulers.