So, there comes a time in every relationship where there’s that difficult conversation. And I’m afraid that we’ve got to that point.
"So Claire, where are you now?"
"Well, Mel & I are in Kerala at the moment"
"And how’s that"
"It’s very beautiful, and green, and clean - very different to the rest of India, like a separate country Oh, and it‘s hot. Meltingly so."
"So where have you been?"
"We’re in a coastal town called Varkala - it’s a beautiful beach, with the resort perched on the cliffs. We‘re spending our day on the beach soaking up the sun, doing a little yoga, listening to the fruit ladies"
"Sounds great. And what else have you done"
"Ummmmmmmmm"
"Well, where are you heading next?"
"Ummmmmmmmmm."
"You mean you’re not going to the Backwaters? Cochin? Madurai?"
"Ummmmmmmmmm"
Did I mention it was VERY hot?"
You see, the thing is, we’ve elected to spend two weeks not being backpackers, or even flashpackers, but (gasp) holiday-makers.
Are you deeply shocked?
In a way I do feel terribly guilty - I’m in INDIA for God’s sake - a country that’s practically a continent, with a huge depth of culture, and beauty and amazing and awe-inspiring sights.
And I’m spending 2 weeks on a beach that frankly, could be pretty much anywhere.
Now I could make out that I’m being all altruistic because Mel hasn’t seen the sun for ages and really needed some downtime to chill out and stuff, but the truth is, I’m too damn hot to move further than from my air-conditioned room to my sun lounger and the return trip (truth be told, even that’s knackering, there’s loads of steps).
We began our trip with a flight (what, no 42 hour train journey?) from Delhi to Trivandrum with Kingfisher (an airline! Named after beer! How cool is THAT! Unfortunately they didn’t give us free beer which I thought was most unfair). Flying in over Kerala, I was first struck with just how green it all was - we flew in over thousands of palm trees making a beautiful green carpet leading down to the sea. Stunning.
We spent our first few nights flashpacking - a nice little place a couple of miles out of the main resort, all wooden floors & raffia (not sure of the significance of the raffia - it makes a most uncomfortable floorcovering) It was a lovely place, but with two major downsides: No air-con and it was 2 miles from the resort, which was fine during the day - a nice walk, but stumbling around after dark with only my mobile for light became less entertaining each day.
Next we decided to backpack (we’re sounding like Goldilocks & the 3 bears here) for a couple of nights, so picked somewhere out of the trusty Lonely Planet. It was OK for my (now) humble tastes, but still lacked the air conditioning and such luxuries as a toilet with a flush. However it did come with a FREE cockroach thrown in, which isn’t a bad deal. Mel bravely stuck it out for 2 nights, then the lack of sleep due to heat got to the pair of us.
We have now become holidaymakers & checked into the Green Palace, which is indeed palatial, and has air-conditioning. If I was at all talented that way, I would compose sonnets to the inventor of air-conditioning. But I shall instead offer a grateful word of thanks to him.
I don’t know why I’ve been so badly impacted by the heat here - after all, I have been in Dubai in July, when my flip-flops actually MELTED, but it’s just so humid here - I go out with wet hair in the evening, it’s 30 degrees outside, and my hair’s still wet when I get back later.
Kerala itself is like a totally different country - we haven’t seen a single cow wandering around, it’s really clean, there are hammer & sickles painted everywhere (just like Vietnam), the people look different too - the skin here is much darker, and the men wear sarongs. Kerala was the first place in the world to vote in a Communist government in 1957, and they’ve been pretty much in power ever since, and, dare I say it, they seem to be doing a pretty good job of it.
Life in Varkala has now settled into a familiar pattern: we wake up, apply suntan lotion liberally (naturally), head out for breakfast (Muesli, fruit, curd & honey, no banana please. And a pineapple juice. Same for Mel, with banana, and a black coffee for her - you see, this blog is FASCINATING isn’t it?) before hitting the beach to salute the sun for a few hours. Our day is spent in the usual fashion: reading, ipodding & putting the world to rights. All accompanied by a soundtrack from the fruit ladies: "Mangooooo, Watermelonnnnnn, Pine-APPLE, Coconut. MADAME! Watermelon! (Imagine this last ‘Watermelon’ to be uttered in reverent tones, as though it is some rare and exotic diamond, smuggled down to the beach for our perusal)
Bless em, they’re persistant, passing by every 10 minutes or so - just in case we had an urgent requirement for fruit.
I then head up for my yoga practice (I’m so dedicated) while sun-worshipper Mel sticks it out til sundown. Evenings are pretty quiet - Beer is available, and is served in a nice flowery mug, with the beer bottle cunningly disguised by being wrapped in newspaper (Kerala isn’t a dry state, but none of the places are licensed as it’s really expensive). We’re both being veggie whilst we’re here - I’ve now been vegetarian for 4.5 weeks and doing OK - I won’t be a veggie for good, but I think I’ll be a meat minimalist from now on.
As a result of my 2 week holiday, I’ve now gone off spreadsheet (shock!) and am going to head back North when Mel leaves - a flying visit back to Rishikesh to see my chums there, then a bit of a wander round the North before my return to London TWO weeks on Sunday :-o
