The Village of Pointless Conversation

'It doesn't matter where you go,' I tell them. 'Travelling just means getting out of where you were.' Which is my half-assed way of saying, if they have stumbled through my doorway, they are lost as hell. Off the guidebook grid. Bumfuck nowhere, in other words. Pocolim is a little village somewhere - or nowhere - in Goa. It is home to Ferdie, the postman, who sets out to find his long-lost love, Millie. Along for the ride in a recently repaired vintage car are the most unlikely companions: his friend Angie, the sweet, virginal widow; her mother-in-law, the extraordinarily corpulent and bossy, Rosalina Eucharistica; renowned painter, Don Pedro who finds lost inspiration in the vastness of Rosalina's body; and Savio, friend of Angie's late husband and once contender for her love. On the road, resentments, ambitions, bitterness and desires come to a boil; as disturbing secrets tumble out, redemption strikes where they least expect it. The Village of Pointless Conversation is a sensuous, funny, full-bodied affair, shot through with quiet gloom that peels off the thin skin of pretence under which lie all our human absurdities.