Far from the maddening crowd... it was the best of times, it was the worst of times and any other belt at plagiarism I can muster... oh yeah, Heathcliff... Healthcliff etc etc
but back to me, arrived in Thrivandrum and immediately the difference was immense. Apart from the airport looking a bit like the Tesco's carpark in Cavan I exited the terminal and looked for a taxi to take me to Kovalam... at this stage I didn't care, I didn't particularly care for any more integration, yes- this is after only one day, all I wanted was to see another western face. The journey again, like I'm fairly prepared for with any car journey was just to understate it, a bit nuts! this driver very fond of the auld beep beep and when I chattered a little nervous laughter when he careered between and gas truck and an army of oncoming tuk-tuks, basically 3 gear motor tricycles with a makeshift shed perched on the back, he thought I was clearly enjoying my experience in his Ambassador car and drove ever more precariously and beeped all the more.
As I write this I have a little visitor, an albino gekko which has scuttled and nuzzled up against the computer for warmth.
On arrival in Kovalam, a beach resort, once v fashionable in the 60's and 70's as a hippie mecca, now a bit Bundoran-y if truth be told, if without the buzz and flash and ching of the slot machines. The taxiu driver had rang ahead to a friend obviously to tell him he had some thicko in the back with no place to stay, "grand" i said, "ill go see this place". I did, he said 1000 rupees and I balked, dodging away from "nice sir, kind sir, you name a price I look after you" (to be said in an Indian accent) and headed up the hill towards what is the junction. The hill is the main connecting street between Kovalam beach, at the bottom and Kovalam junction, at the top, and the first person I met was an "auld feller" named Frank... a westerner, my prayers were answered. I immediately asked him would he know of a nice place to stay and he replied "follow me". We ended up away a bit from the beach, down a bit of an alley, in between some trees and to Harri "tuk tuk" Kuhmars! I'm serious, Ive seen worse places in Ireland and away from Mumbai, this was heaven!
So I laid out my bags, Harri wasn't there, Frank had to chase up a wooden elephant carving he'd tried to post home 6 years previous and Frank's most gracious partner Meg took to showing me around. The rest of the day was just about settling, acclimatising, start to breath normally away from the terror of Mumbai and basically relax! Which I did, and then, after din that night with Frank and Meg I calfed out, til 1pm the next day, I didn't care, I just crashed. Earplugs in, for the place we're staying in is right beside a Bhuddist Temple and these lot like to get up at 7.30am and 6.30pm and chant and sing and ring this bells, mixing with it the squalk of what I can old describe as squirrels and chirp chirp of the grass hoppers and all other singing sorts of beastily insects.
The no more curry rule did go out the window though that night at dinner, having the single best curry of my short ill-lived life, fish malabari!, brekkers consisted of a Masala omllette, which is basically a really thin omllette with chillis... NO CURRY POWDER!
By this stage I'm starting to develop a travellers hum, despite my washing and all that goes with it I can't seem to shake the sweet mix of slightly sweaty, DEET mosquito repellent and suntan lotion.
The beaches here are beautiful though, though at the same time covered in damn hawkers trying to sell their wares, everything from blankes to llungi scarves, sunglasses to little wooden toys, and then there are the hundreds of wild dogs, though they dont bother you, they're still there!
Hearing so much about the whole Ayeurvedic massage lark, I went for one, following the suggestion of a German couple who enviously viewed my room as it has two windows, they showed me to this old fella with a beard who apparently is v good. Auyeurvedic is a 5 prong approach to self healing, partly through massage, oils, diet etc and if I was a pencil drawing this fella would have rubbed me out he was going so hard.
Pushing me this way and twisting me that, chucking the oil on me, so much I thought I'd slip off the bed it was as if this Auyeurvedic massage thing was going out of fashion and he just wanted to cash in. Lying there, slipping and sliding all over the shop, his hands as rough as sandpaper I started to accept my circumstance and went with it... massage after all is suppose to be relaxing... it was... that is until he touched ball....one ball but ball nonetheless, and whether he did it on purpose, which I doubt he did, it made me terribly aware of my tremendously vulnerable position.
But grand, it was grand... all part of the experience (repeat 3 times)
Booked next part of my journey too, from here to Allepey, another beach area, then to Perriyar up the mountains to a Tiger reserve and then to Kochi to catch the train to Goa.
Day 5 I woke up with a dose of the sh1ts, my first since arrival so I just pilled up, had some brekkers, Phutto, a wheat porridge type effort served dry and in a roll with coconut along with some hot milk, honey and banana, really enough stodge to block a drain and I slept til the eve- woke up grand! sorted and happy out.Phutto has been the most western thing I've ate since arriving, bar the three ginger nut biscuits I smuggled through customs from England which I devoured in my time of need between Mumbai and Thrivandrum.
My last day in Kovalam was pretty uneventful, in fairness to India the south is doing all it can to make me feel at home, raining every day just like fair olde Ireland.
I didn't adventure beyond my now familiar confines of Kovalam too much, its nice here, I don't regret not tripping about too much and am getting my feet settled somewhat ready for the next leg of journey.
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