Sixth sense prevented my writing too much re India before the final day.
Instincts were right; my departure from India was as hard my arrival!
Kerala’s public service workers (i.e. nearly everyone in the state) called a lightening strike for 20th and 21st, no buses, no taxis, no trains, no anything, in protest at the rising costs.
I found this out moments after it was announced, on the morning of the 19th when I went to book a taxi for the flight for the next day…no chance, was the unanimous verdict.
The police station, where a kindly female tour operator sent me for advice, were also very kind, but simply said I must travel that evening, before everything shut at midnight.
In tears trying to locate a taxi, alongside most of Kerala, I was spotted by the genuinely lovely lad from Kashmir who runs one of the shops near my little room.
He offered to come up for me/luggage (my room is up a flight of stairs and a rutted alley, a fantastic ‘find’ but not user friendly for cases) plus arrange me a taxi. Going with my instincts I trusted him, and went to pack.
My final afternoon was spent watching the most glorious sunset I have seen in the many weeks I have been here. Sitting sipping chai watching the sun on the waves through waving coconut palms, eating my final savoury pastries and ice creams. I feel this is a country of such contrasts, I could live here for ever and yet never fully understand it, the extremes of wonder and horror in equal measure.
As I walked back along the sands I saw an English couple standing in tears by the taxi rank and offered to share my lift-by chance, we were on the same flight.
They trusted me, I trusted my friend, and our mutual trust was repaid, he came for me, his driver was an honest ambassador taxi owner, and we arrived safely at Thrivandrum airport just before midnight.
Eerily, on the dot of midnight, the shutters slammed shut on the taxi counters, the constant hooting and shouting silenced, and a creepy calm swept over the normally hectic roads and ranks outside.
Inside, we, plus hundreds of others, made ourselves as comfortable as possible on seats with metal arms…I managed an hour sleeping on the floor, I really have turned into an Indian; people here sleep everywhere, even in the middle of busy roads and pavements.
As the sun rose, the silence outside was so weird, used as I am now to the perpetual noise of India…even the weather, for once, was quiet.
The Police were running emergency buses, so maybe I would have made it without my impromptu airport stop, but who knows, in India its always best to err on the side of caution, and play/keep safe.
So I bid a tearful, tired, farewell to India as Sri Lankan Airways lifted off , watching the lush treetops and blue waters of Kerala recede. Fantastic staff managed to serve a much needed breakfast of cake, yoghurt and coffee in the 40 minute flight, which rejuvenated/reunited mind, body and spirit for Sri Lanka...
Instincts were right; my departure from India was as hard my arrival!
Kerala’s public service workers (i.e. nearly everyone in the state) called a lightening strike for 20th and 21st, no buses, no taxis, no trains, no anything, in protest at the rising costs.
I found this out moments after it was announced, on the morning of the 19th when I went to book a taxi for the flight for the next day…no chance, was the unanimous verdict.
The police station, where a kindly female tour operator sent me for advice, were also very kind, but simply said I must travel that evening, before everything shut at midnight.
In tears trying to locate a taxi, alongside most of Kerala, I was spotted by the genuinely lovely lad from Kashmir who runs one of the shops near my little room.
He offered to come up for me/luggage (my room is up a flight of stairs and a rutted alley, a fantastic ‘find’ but not user friendly for cases) plus arrange me a taxi. Going with my instincts I trusted him, and went to pack.
My final afternoon was spent watching the most glorious sunset I have seen in the many weeks I have been here. Sitting sipping chai watching the sun on the waves through waving coconut palms, eating my final savoury pastries and ice creams. I feel this is a country of such contrasts, I could live here for ever and yet never fully understand it, the extremes of wonder and horror in equal measure.
As I walked back along the sands I saw an English couple standing in tears by the taxi rank and offered to share my lift-by chance, we were on the same flight.
They trusted me, I trusted my friend, and our mutual trust was repaid, he came for me, his driver was an honest ambassador taxi owner, and we arrived safely at Thrivandrum airport just before midnight.
Eerily, on the dot of midnight, the shutters slammed shut on the taxi counters, the constant hooting and shouting silenced, and a creepy calm swept over the normally hectic roads and ranks outside.
Inside, we, plus hundreds of others, made ourselves as comfortable as possible on seats with metal arms…I managed an hour sleeping on the floor, I really have turned into an Indian; people here sleep everywhere, even in the middle of busy roads and pavements.
As the sun rose, the silence outside was so weird, used as I am now to the perpetual noise of India…even the weather, for once, was quiet.
The Police were running emergency buses, so maybe I would have made it without my impromptu airport stop, but who knows, in India its always best to err on the side of caution, and play/keep safe.
So I bid a tearful, tired, farewell to India as Sri Lankan Airways lifted off , watching the lush treetops and blue waters of Kerala recede. Fantastic staff managed to serve a much needed breakfast of cake, yoghurt and coffee in the 40 minute flight, which rejuvenated/reunited mind, body and spirit for Sri Lanka...
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