day 9

Day 9 : Burning Ring of Fire

Really did have a lay in today, it was at least 7 a.m. when I got up! Felt as though I had not slept at all, but must have done, as it was so late. Nick said he did not sleep that well either, and as usual was already up and about doing what he does best.

Egg on toast with a nice pot of tea was the order of the day for our breakfast, taken out on the porch looking across the fields at the cows having the ticks picked off their skin by the egrets, who were landing on their backs to dine.

Beyond the cattle we could see a woman from one of the dwellings just a little way across the field, she came meandering out to find herself a quite spot for her morning ablutions, oblivious to us sitting not more than twenty metres away. We looked away pretending we had not even noticed her, although I don't think she would have been that bothered one-way or the other. You've just got do what you've got to do!

Rather than walk the along the beach we thought we would head up into the main part of town, as the only part of Varkala we had seen so far was the shoreline.

It was very hot already and it was only just after eight, already I was sweating profusely. At the top end of beach road is a main road known as Temple junction, where naturally enough is situated the Janardhana Temple. This temple's inner sanctum is strictly for Hindus, but you can see enough from the outside to get the overall picture of the place. In the grounds can be found a huge banyan tree and various shrines devoted to the various deities such as Ayappan (an incarnation of Shiva, and lord of the forests and wild animals), Hanuman and a few others.

From a great distance could be heard the loud explosions coming from the Temple area all throughout the day. These explosions were set of by the Verdi man, whose job it is to take donations from devotees in return for setting the gunpowder, which when exploded are meant to ward off wild animals and evil spirits. Nowadays this is purely a symbolic gesture, and depending on how much you are prepared to pay, you can also have double or triple vedis, as these explosions are known.

There is also an ashram nearby which is devoted to the Guru Sree Narayana (1855 - 1928). He preached "one caste, one religion, one god for the people" This preaching was very popular, especially amongst the lower castes.   And to be honest it does not sound to bad to me.

In total we walked about two kilometres into the main part of town, where we roamed around for a little , but without stopping for too long anywhere. Varkala has an estimated population of around fifty thousand people, yet the main street looked small and was not very busy, so I would imagine that this population is well spread out across quite a big area.
One young boy in a rickshaw offered to take us up the coast to Kovalam?, which we estimated was about 40 kilometres. He offered to take us there for some ridiculous some of money, I wasn't going to argue with him, even if he had offered to take us for nothing as we didn't want to go there anyway.

A couple of hours walking around in the heat was enough for anybody, so we hailed a rickshaw and headed back to the hotel for a cool down in the shade and some more tea. The Indian tea that we were being served up was supposedly second or third grade, with the best stuff being saved for export.
If this was second grade tea, I wondered what the export stuff must be like, as what we were drinking was really quite good.

Tea has wonderful healing powers, and I should know being of Irish stock, my parents and family swear by the healing powers of tea, which is constantly drummed into you. Forget that stereotype image of Irish men drinking Guinness by the gallon they drink far more tea.

There are many stories associated with the drinking of tea and the miracle cure it is perceived as being. You only have to look at an instance where someone is in shock for whatever reason, forget the Whisky, Brandy or whatever, tea is the drink normally dispensed first and foremost.

"There now love, drink that tea you'll soon be feeling right as rain" is the kind of thing my Mother might be saying if you were under the weather, feeling tired, a little depressed or whatever!
If you are in Ireland, or an Irish household for that matter, the first thing you must do is take a cup of "tae" as my Mother pronounces it.

There is definitely something about taking tea as a social drink, whether that is in Ireland, China, India or the many other places in the world where this beverage is consumed in large quantities.
Maybe this is the reason for my almost obsessive liking of the stuff, and given the option I will take this drink over any other that is offered, at least nine times out of ten bearing in mind that there is a time and a place for everything.

Nick likes his tea, probably more than I do, and he drinks it in vast quantities. Nick and I drink tea socially in the same way other men consume alcohol together, this is especially true at work, as when we are on the same shift together, we seem to have a cup in front of us for most of the day.

And so it is to this end that we felt suitably revived drinking tea after our walk about in the scorching heat of Varkala this morning. Yes, I know we could have had some coke or other soft drink, but these are really not very good for you in the heat, as they have all that sugar that only serves to make you even more thirsty. Tea is even a diaphoretic drink, which is well known to also make you thirsty, but it tastes so much better than plain old mineral water, which as we all know is the best thing you can drink.
And nothing could have tasted better than this pot of tea that served to both cool and revive us, leaving us ready to take on the heat of Southern India again.

Back down on the beach the first man we met was a Kashmiri who insisted we look around his little shop, but we were in no mood for shopping and moved on swiftly, promising to have a look later.
We made our way quickly along the coast trying to avoid the few hawkers that were still around, they were trying to squeeze the last few rupees out of the few tourists that remained. This was virtually the end of the tourist season, and as such there were very few of us about, so we were not too hard to pick out in the non-existent crowds.

Along the cliff top we chatted with all our newfound shopkeeper friends from yesterday, and again on their insistence visited their shops.
Nick bought his beads and made the Tibetan lady very happy, as he did not try to beat her down on price, well at least not to far. I again promised the young man and his family next door that I would not buy anywhere else before checking with him on prices.

We passed by the "noice price" shirt tailor who was still in the process of making my shirts, but we chose not to stop, instead we told him we would pick them up on our way back. "Alwight Mayte" he said, knowing that we would be coming back later kept him happy in the thought of possible more sales.

The main area along the cliff top where these shops were located ran for no more than one hundred metres, then it was back to idyllic palm treed open path with no retaining rail or fence.
We were constantly stopping to look at the breath taking views out over the Arabian sea, as it lapped gently against the rocks and sandy shoreline below us.

A couple of kilometres along the coast we descended to a small fishing village where the days catch of anchovies was laid out on the sand to dry in the hot sun. The local fishermen were sitting around in their little groups, some were just socialising while others were doing small repair jobs to the fishing nets.

The wooden hulled fishing boats painted in their eye catching bright colours were laid up on the beach, next to the boats were large brown bundles that were the fishing nets made of coir. Coir is a very strong rope, which is made from the hairy outer husk of coconuts.

We got talking to two old fishermen who were sitting on the sand sifting through the fish, the more talkative of the two, who looked as though he had cataract problems accepted a cigarette and smoked happily as he spoke to us. Although it was hard for us to understand him, we kind of got the gist of what he was saying.

We think he was trying to tell us about his days at sea, you could almost hear his brain tick as he would search for the right words, constantly laughing as he did so. He kept coming out with different names of places in the world, which we assumed were the places he had been to. All the time he spoke the other man sat crossed legged and with his eyes shut, giving the impression that he was trying to block us out, either that, or he was meditating?

A little way further along we met up with a group of young boys who were dressed up in their best clothes to attend church; the usual chaos ensued when I gave them some sweets and pens.

I had to make them sit on the rock and only gave to those who didn't snatch or fight for what was on offer. I think they all got something, but I soon ran out of the ten or so pens I had in my bag, much to the disappointment of the latecomers who were now joining the melee.

It was time to move on, if only the kids would let us get away! They followed for a little while before accepting that I really did not have anything left to give them. I felt sorry for those who had not got something as the others teased them with their trophies! Bloody hell!, they were only cheap biro's and some sweets. I thought about giving them some rupees to make them feel a little better, but decided this would only cause further problems.

Turning back we passed the two old fishermen again, the one with the cataracts was still reciting the places he had been, oblivious I think to the fact that we had moved on and the other one was till meditating as if we had never walked away. We kept going at a slightly brisker pace to avoid being spotted by any other packs of kids that may have been out on the prowl having heard we were about.

My shirts were ready for collection and really looked quite fetching on me, so much so that Nick decided to take the plunge and ordered himself a couple. The "noice price" tailor said they would be ready later that afternoon if we cared to come back? "Yeah no problem" we had nothing much else to do.

We stopped for a drink at the Sunrise restaurant where we were again offered some hand painted cards produced by the disabled, only this time it was from a different seller, and at half the price of the previous one! You live and learn as you go along.

It's a lot easier to find places in the daylight, so we planned to eat our lunch at the Restaurant we could not find last night in the dark, but first we had to run the gauntlet of shopkeepers on our way.
Nick stopped to speak to the Tibetan lady who sold the beads, while I again conversed with the young man who would sell me the puppets at whatever was the best quote I could get.
He would probably have sold me his sister for the right price.

I really was not that bothered about getting a best price, and knew that I would pay him what he wanted, but not at the moment! I had to go back to the hotel now without hanging about laughing and joking with him, a pain in my stomach had just hit me and I felt the need to go, and needed to go quickly.

I rushed into the Tibetan ladies shop and told Nick I would see him at the restaurant, then turned and ran as fast as my legs would carry me, waving people away as they stepped into my path to offer this or that!
I had at least half a mile to go and thought I would never make it in time! With a couple of hundred metres to go the pain stopped just as suddenly as it had come on!

I now felt right as rain again and slowed my pace to a leisurely walk, but carried on to the Panchavadi just in case!

Nick was in the restaurant when I got back, but had yet to order as he was waiting for me. I don't know why he waited as I would usually have the same as him.

As we waited for our meal to be brought to us, we watched the crows fighting over the scraps of food that were being thrown to them by people in the restaurant. There was one clever crow who rather than fight it out for scraps with the others, he simply landed on a table and helped himself to the lone woman's meal as she sat there in total astonishment. She was a little upset, but tried not to show it as she sat guarding the rest of her food just in case of another attack. You really shouldn't laugh at other people's misfortunes, but it was hard not to at the audacity of the crows, even the dogs knew where they stood in the pecking order, and were not going to fight these big birds.

The Kashmiri shopkeeper next to the restaurant had obviously spotted us eating and was ready to pounce just as soon as we had finished, to give him some credit he at least didn't come into the restaurant like our friend Silver tout in Madurai. He waited patiently for us to come out, knowing that we could not avoid passing his shop, unless of course we doubled back along the beach and over the top onto the road.

"Hello my friends, now you look in my shop?" were his words of greeting as we left the restaurant, we looked at each other knowing we could not say no. Then trudged into his shop with only one thing on our minds, how were we going to get out without buying something!

He showed us just about everything he had to offer, silk scarves, shirts, skirts, bathrobes, you name it, and he had it. There really was nothing new here and it was all the same as we had seen so many times everywhere we went. We tried to be as gracious as we could, trying to let him down as gently as we could.
I saw my chance to escape when he got into a prolonged conversation with Nick over something or other, I just said to Nick I'll wait for you outside, leaving him to be the one who would leave the shopkeeper without a sale.   Nick is a lot harder than me, and had it been the other way around I would surely have come out laden down with things I really did not want.

On the way back up beach road money changer who was holding his little baby in his arms approached me to offer best rates for exchange. I had a little conversation with him, and although I did not change any money I promised that just as soon as I needed some he would be the first person I would come to.

I really had to stop promising people I would shop with them. They sucker you into a promise when you say things like "I'll come back later" or "not now, maybe tomorrow". These people don't forget and literally take you at your word. The next time you see them they approach you as though you were a friend they had known for years. A little light hearted conversation will then take place with them slipping in that you promised to look, or buy, and then you are overcome with a sense of guilt for lying to them and invariably buy something to ease your conscience.

These shopkeepers are clever because they know that if they can get you to make a promise, you will more than likely keep it, rather than run the risk of some bad karma.

It was time for more of the healing powers of tea as we headed back to our hotel, or should I say the beach resort run by a hyperactive French woman, with an assistant who thought you should drink tea straight from the spout of the pot. We had cups delivered with this brew, which kind of took the fun out of it.

Our freshly laundered clothes were waiting for us at the reception; they were all nicely folded in old newspaper to separate them from each other. The French woman was still glued to her television set with CNN satellite World news blaring out into the hall, breaking up the tranquil ambiance of this otherwise quite establishment.

Neither Nick, or I, are really the kind of people who can sit about on the beach trying to catch a sun tan, so for the afternoon we again walked along the cliffs in search of something to take our interest.
You soon get used to places, we had only been in Varakla for just over twenty-four hours, but already we felt as though we had been here for much longer. I suppose it's because it is such a small place, and there really is not that much to do except sunbathe or get stoned, being that we did not do either, we tended to explore at a faster pace then most people.
We could almost be called speed tourists, in the purest sense of the word, speed that is!

Although if tea was a mind altering narcotic, we would have been out of our heads the whole trip, which surely would have made this a far more interesting story altogether.   I do sometimes envy these people who can turn up and just chill out straight away, I can't, and have to see and do everything as quickly as possible, then move on before boredom sets in.

We had to pass the suave looking Kashmiri salesman again, but luckily for us he was inside his shop and we passed without being press ganged into having another look around. Making our way once again onto the upper path along the cliff we stopped at a spice stall where Nick bought some spices to take home with him.
Just near to hear we stopped to talk to an ethnic woman who it turned out was a gypsy from the west of India, she was dressed in the traditional clothes of her people. Just looking at her face with the amount of beads and earring that she wore, it wasn't too hard to see where the punk rockers had got their ideas.
Although this woman was first and foremost a trader selling the same as everyone else, she was not a hard sell merchant and was a very pleasant and interesting person to talk to. We were joined in the conversation by the puppet seller who interpreted when we did not totally understand each other.

The shirt tailor was not there when we went to collect, instead we found his friend was looking after business for him.
He told us that "noice price" had gone to spend the afternoon with his wife, for a bit of you know what!
Why he chose to tell us this I don't know, he further went on to tell us that although "noice price" was only a small man, he had a very large banana, which obviously made him a bit of a celebrity in these parts.
That was enough of that kind of information, now what about our shirts? They were not yet ready, but would not be long if we cared to call in again on our way back. No problem as if we had picked them up now it would only have meant carrying them around with us.

Varkala is a great place if you like sun, sea and sand, but there really is not that much else to see or do except walk around looking for things to see and do. So that's what we done again for the afternoon, making our way once again along the shore line, talking to kids and adults alike who we met along the way.

It was getting towards sunset as we returned to the tailor who had still not completed Nick's shirts, but he promised us they would not be much longer. We told him that we were going to use the Internet, after which would be sitting at the restaurant a little way down, and he was to give us a call when they were ready. No problem he said!

It took quite a while to get the messages sent home due to a very slow connection, but we eventually managed it. I did some shopping with the puppet seller as promised we also spoke to the Tibetan woman again before returning to the sunset restaurant.

We sat and had a drink doing exactly what the restaurant was all about; we watched the sunset over the Arabian Sea from the comfort of a chair and with the best coffee we'd had since getting here. There is definitely something about a sunset viewed through a clump of palm trees, with the sun glowing golden amber red as it sets on the distant horizon across the water.

We decided that as it was now so late we would have our evening meal here at the Sunrise restaurant, rather than go back and shower e.t.c before having to come out again. There was no nightlife here in Varkala to speak of, so this was about as good as it was going to get, we just sat and watched the world go by.

The shirts were finally ready just before our meal was delivered. As we sat there eating our meal the music playing in the background was a collection of country hits. The one that made us both laugh as we sung along to it was the Johnny Cash number "Burning Ring of Fire", which we felt was quite apt after eight days of eating curry morning, noon and night.

I had a large bottle of beer with my meal this evening; the waiter poured it into a large mug so as to disguise it should a policeman come roaming by. It is illegal to both sell and consume alcohol in this part of the world.   With this in mind I had to hide to half full bottle under the table out of sight, and keep a watchful eye on the stray dogs walking about.

I only had the one bottle of beer because I did not want to be unsteady on my feet as we walked back along the cliff top path, especially in the dark and with no safety rail along the edge.

We were back in our rooms and ready for bed by nine thirty, I lay down and don't really remember much more.