Freak storms:
Thursday night, an incredible storm hit the coast, wiping out the power even in the city, flooding the restaurants (and my balcony), with incredible winds, so loud it was impossible to sleep.
Sadly, two fishermen at least downed in the freak weather. Having watched them line the skyline twinkling each evening, and seeing them set off in droves in tiny boats from the harbour as the sun sets, it’s really upsetting.
The weather continues to be changeable-the Hindu times has made much of it, not least as it another problem for the declining tourist trade, which is dismal this year, apparently. I’ve spoken to a number of ‘regular’ winter-ers, who say Kerala has declined, become more poverty stricken/dirty, and who don’t intend to return.
The Hindu times (in English) is available in many cafes, and I’ve read a fair amount about the economic problems here, the state ‘elections’ (its run on communist lines, so its people standing, not parties, as I understand it) is being fiercely fought, the streets are full of banners, loudspeakers and campaigning groups.
The main area of contention, like England, is public transport-the trains are ‘too late, too crowded, under funded’…and yet state money is being poured into an infrastructure when the daily schedule is not working….sounds familiar to me!
I’m fascinated by the city, and its great now to have a chance to see Indian culture-Varkala’s beach stop was fab, but being absorbed into the life of the people is more my thing than sand and sea, however tiring, fraught and manic.
The bus journey from here to the city is a 30 minute bone shaker past temples, villages, shacks, and the odd modern hotel/supermarket/jewellers and hospitals…along the new ‘by pass’ (all of 3 minutes worth) and then traffic jams, narrow roads, potholes…..the bus stopped all the time to let off schoolchildren going to the government schools which line the route, and they love to chat!
I went first to explore, and get my bearings, before spending a final day on the beach front with the lovely James and Julie from Canada, who have been wonderful companions, we’ve had intellectual conversations from Phillip Pullman, state education across the world, politics and the pope….great fun to have academic debates, I miss them.
Off this morning on the bus to see the famous Sri Ananthapapadmantbba Swampy Temple, see pic of me standing in front of it…..the huge 16th century temple complex is the heart of the city.
The place swarmed with colourful devotees, and whilst obviously not allowed in, a wander around the outside –takes ages-were spectacular, looming white carvings and murals.
I tempted fate by having an ice cream with ice (see pic)…a cashew nut syrup based breakfast, and also the local mixed fruit drink, which turned out to be made with water, so this may be my last blog for a while if I’ve finally poisoned myself!!!
Then to the Palace Museum , where a very funny guide gave us a potted history of the massive complex, in English (and wanted a large tip, we all did a runner as it was compulsory to have him, and as usual foreigners pay three times as much)…
The pic is of me outside pretending to be royal….no photos allowed inside, obviously, which is a shame as it is full of fantastic heritage, and exquisite wood carvings. It was built by a well known King, poet and musician, who died in his thirties, and the family then deserted it as it was bad ‘karma’.,…although apparently the current ‘King’ (no power, only title now) lives somewhere around –he’s 91, most of the vast complex is deserted…a sea of wooden buildings.
I did discover though that the descendants to the throne are always the nephews, as the land belongs to the maternal line……feminist India after all! And on coming out I was caught up in yet another march, but this time brightly coloured schoolgirls campaigning for education, a long snake of feminist women weaving between the rickshaws and crowds..
This afternoon I treated myself to my first ever Indian full body massage. That was weird…stripped naked and covered in oils, slapped and pummelled from toe to head….and then washed down with sandalwood powder which well and truly cleaned my skin!
An extravagant treat by Indian standards, 800rupees for 70 minutes, but as that’s around £10 I reckoned it was good value!!
This evening, energised by my massage, I strode off through the darkening skies to see the festival at the mosque beyond the lighthouse. The loudspeakers carry sound across the entire village, on every lamppost, and colourful stalls lined the narrow alleys….I was given samples of numerous foods, all fried, one so sweet it dripped fat and sugar. It’s delicious, but my salad craving is growing, and the odd one in the tourist restaurant is a few tomatoes and cucumber, and costs a fortune. So supper is a 10 rupee deep fried pastry and 5 rupee halva and cashew nut bar.......!
Thursday night, an incredible storm hit the coast, wiping out the power even in the city, flooding the restaurants (and my balcony), with incredible winds, so loud it was impossible to sleep.
Sadly, two fishermen at least downed in the freak weather. Having watched them line the skyline twinkling each evening, and seeing them set off in droves in tiny boats from the harbour as the sun sets, it’s really upsetting.
The weather continues to be changeable-the Hindu times has made much of it, not least as it another problem for the declining tourist trade, which is dismal this year, apparently. I’ve spoken to a number of ‘regular’ winter-ers, who say Kerala has declined, become more poverty stricken/dirty, and who don’t intend to return.
The Hindu times (in English) is available in many cafes, and I’ve read a fair amount about the economic problems here, the state ‘elections’ (its run on communist lines, so its people standing, not parties, as I understand it) is being fiercely fought, the streets are full of banners, loudspeakers and campaigning groups.
The main area of contention, like England, is public transport-the trains are ‘too late, too crowded, under funded’…and yet state money is being poured into an infrastructure when the daily schedule is not working….sounds familiar to me!
I’m fascinated by the city, and its great now to have a chance to see Indian culture-Varkala’s beach stop was fab, but being absorbed into the life of the people is more my thing than sand and sea, however tiring, fraught and manic.
The bus journey from here to the city is a 30 minute bone shaker past temples, villages, shacks, and the odd modern hotel/supermarket/jewellers and hospitals…along the new ‘by pass’ (all of 3 minutes worth) and then traffic jams, narrow roads, potholes…..the bus stopped all the time to let off schoolchildren going to the government schools which line the route, and they love to chat!
I went first to explore, and get my bearings, before spending a final day on the beach front with the lovely James and Julie from Canada, who have been wonderful companions, we’ve had intellectual conversations from Phillip Pullman, state education across the world, politics and the pope….great fun to have academic debates, I miss them.
Off this morning on the bus to see the famous Sri Ananthapapadmantbba Swampy Temple, see pic of me standing in front of it…..the huge 16th century temple complex is the heart of the city.
I tempted fate by having an ice cream with ice (see pic)…a cashew nut syrup based breakfast, and also the local mixed fruit drink, which turned out to be made with water, so this may be my last blog for a while if I’ve finally poisoned myself!!!
The pic is of me outside pretending to be royal….no photos allowed inside, obviously, which is a shame as it is full of fantastic heritage, and exquisite wood carvings. It was built by a well known King, poet and musician, who died in his thirties, and the family then deserted it as it was bad ‘karma’.,…although apparently the current ‘King’ (no power, only title now) lives somewhere around –he’s 91, most of the vast complex is deserted…a sea of wooden buildings.
I did discover though that the descendants to the throne are always the nephews, as the land belongs to the maternal line……feminist India after all! And on coming out I was caught up in yet another march, but this time brightly coloured schoolgirls campaigning for education, a long snake of feminist women weaving between the rickshaws and crowds..
This afternoon I treated myself to my first ever Indian full body massage. That was weird…stripped naked and covered in oils, slapped and pummelled from toe to head….and then washed down with sandalwood powder which well and truly cleaned my skin!
An extravagant treat by Indian standards, 800rupees for 70 minutes, but as that’s around £10 I reckoned it was good value!!
This evening, energised by my massage, I strode off through the darkening skies to see the festival at the mosque beyond the lighthouse. The loudspeakers carry sound across the entire village, on every lamppost, and colourful stalls lined the narrow alleys….I was given samples of numerous foods, all fried, one so sweet it dripped fat and sugar. It’s delicious, but my salad craving is growing, and the odd one in the tourist restaurant is a few tomatoes and cucumber, and costs a fortune. So supper is a 10 rupee deep fried pastry and 5 rupee halva and cashew nut bar.......!
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