Cabin fever yesterday. Getting cash in a 'cheeky' way.

I have to conserve the few ringits I have. Doing well. Day 3 and I have MYR 44 left. I need to set aside 18 for the bus back to the airport. I've been working on getting the hotel to charge me MYR100 so I can get cashback. There is no way I am going to use an UK credit card and stick it in an ATM abroad to get cash out. I'll be paying back the interest till kingdom come. I did that once with Capital One and won't be making that mistake again. I had no idea what was going on with that - for months I seemed to be paying off interest on a tiny amount of cash I once took out on holiday somewhere in Europe. In the end, I phoned them up and asked them what the meaning of this was. I'm one of those people that pay off my credit cards in full every month. So I was getting a tad annoyed with this recurring month debt.

CapOne call centre operative: Are you sure you didn't withdraw cash while abroad, Miss Mo?
Me: Yes, I am.
CapOne call centre op: Oh, that's odd. That is the only reason why you are being charged this amount of interest every month. You must have withdrawn cash while abroad.
Methinks: Crikey. What a bunch of piss-takers. Think, Mo. Did I withdraw cash? Gawd, yes, about £20 pounds' worth in Augsburg.
Me: I think I may have done but it was such a small amount and I think I've paid enough interest now. Cancel it forthwith please, else I shall end my contract with CapOne. As you can see from my records, I pay in full every month. I'm afraid I won't be paying anymore interest. That is out of the question. I hope you don't mind me saying so, but CapOne are taking liberties - not you. You've been lovely. I mean the Company. I so appreciate your help, but I wonder it you would kindly put me onto your manager now - in England, that is. I am tired of speaking to a Delhi call centre. No disrespect to your good self. Yes, I insist on speaking to your counterparts in England, thank you.

After about 15 minutes of brow-beating, CapOne acquiesces.

It's the same when you're travelling. When in a sticky wicket - think laterally. I need cash. I don't want to withdraw cash on my AMEX or Mastercard, else I'll be paying interest into the next decade. Ask hotel receptionist firmly and charmingly that you'd like to get cashback on your card. Wait for one day inside hotel room and do girlie things like face packs, stare at horrific blackheads and wishing there wasn't a mirror in the bathroom, look out of the window a lot, pluck eyebrows. Look with dismay at fine facial hairs. A sure sign of ageing. Analyse the types of engines and motorbikes noises going past at F1 speed on the 6-laned Jalan Maharajelela road. Do some writing. Have a shower. Feel a bit disappointed when after shower, the heavens open up and it rains cats and dogs, and refuse to go out in case I catch a chill or something annoying. I think back to doing my packing on 19 February. I put my kagoul in suitcase. Looked at it and thought that's unnecessary, then took it out. Hmph. Look at cute sparrows on ledge opposite. Tiny compared with Mumbai airport spadgers.  A good 1.5" shorter in length, at a guess, and a lot slimmer. Aww. Other birds have no idea what they are. Black with bright coloured bits on head. Get sidetracked by something and don't realise rain stopped ages ago.

Fall face down on bed when really tired and catnap for 15 minutes. As it's a brand new hotel - about a month old, I've been told by the receptionist - the mattress is to die for, and the bed linen is 100% fine quality cotton. Not that polycotton that almost makes my flesh crawl. The nice crisp cotton here instantly makes you feel heavenly. Switch on flatscreen telly and go "phwoarr" at Christian Bale. Switch it off immediately when you realise it's about boxing, and Bale has taken that Method Acting thing far too seriously and is all bony and totally unsexy. Turn off or "snooze" about 4 reminders to do sitting meditation and mindful yoga. Check almost obsessively for emails. But time difference in UK and people's busy lives means no emails yesterday, apart from lovely Lily in Dar, who amazingly has time to write one of the longest mails I've had from her. And it contains such wonderful anecdotes. Love it, Lily! 

Now it's dinner time already. Go to bar next door and order food on my AMEX card. When waiter arrives with fried rice noodles and mixed salad, he gives me a bill.

Me: What would you like me to do with this? Sign it?
Waiter with barely any English: Card.
Me: I don't understand, the manager knows I have a special arrangement. I will be paying at the end of my stay with one transaction (this save me money on multiple credit interest charges, no?)
Waiter: Card.
I roll my eyes, fly to the phone, dial 111 to speak to bar manager who has excellent English skills.
Me: I don't understand what I should do with this bill.
Bar Manager: You need to give him your credit card to pay.
Me: I already have made an arrangement with the hotel. I can only pay at the end of my stay on one final transaction.
Bar Manager: That's not how we run things here. We are separate from the hotel.
Me: Right! Let me get onto reception, and I shall get straight back to you.

I look at my food and toss up whether to eat it now, then sort this out. Else I'll be seriously peeved that such an 'expensive' meal - it is compared to street food, at MYR 25 - then goes stone cold. I decide to sit and chow down. Phone rings before I get to lift noodles to mouth.

Bar Manager: It's OK. I've spoken to the hotel.
Me: Thank you. You are too kind.

Back onto the subject of cashflow problem ... back in India?

How do you think I managed to pay the thousands of rupees for my hospital bills - in cash - at Koyili Hospital? Before I go ahead and pay the hospital, I have already asked the owner, Jeetu, the night I was admitted into hospital, if I could get cashback on my credit card. I knew that after paying for my hospital expenses, I wouldn't have enough money to continue my holiday in India. Amazingly, on the last day, he told me he wouldn't mind how much I wanted. I was just to give him a figure. I could barely believe my earholes. I could've asked for 10,000 rupees if I'd wanted, but I settled for 3,000 instead. In case I spunked a shed load of money in Mangalore somehow, and my last 1.5 days in Mumbai. And that wouldn't do - AT ALL.

I'm about to go downstairs to see if my charm and cheek offensive has worked here at Cosmic Hotel. It will have. As I like to keep reminding the venerable readership: Where there is a will, There is a Mo. Perhaps, more accurately, that ought to read: Where there is a Mo, There is a Way.

When I return to the UK, I shall, for the first time, do that credit card shuffle that Martin Lewis of Moneysavingexpert.com recommends doing. I really really really dislike being in debt. So, the expenses from this rather costly holiday will be paid off in double time - by hook or by crook.

Cheekiness runs in the family. Ask my lovely bruvver, Jimmy Mo. He's fab, he is.

Yikes. It's 12:45 already. If I'm not careful, it'll be sundown again. And today is a gorgeous sunny day for a change. Pity to waste it.