As it’s a weekend the Indians pour into Varkala and stay at the far end of the beach where local holy men gather set up their sand stalls and take offerings…..
For a small sum, at the stall of your choice, one can be blessed, accompanied by chants, incense and drums, and you then take your offering of leaves full of bananas, flowers, and sweets, and walk into the sea, throwing it in behind you.
Despite not being Hindu, here anything is possible for a price, and the holy men seemed very happy to bless me and Debbie!!
Varkala is so relaxing after the heat and intensity of both Kochi and Alleppey.
I had not realised just how tired I was, but the humidity in Kochi was oppressive, as was the constant lack of power there
Even the art cafes and heritage sites, fascinating though they were, and the breeze with the ferry trips and in the evening walking the ‘promenade’, I spent my entire time literally dripping.
Alleppey too was humid, this time accompanied by horrendous storms, rainfall like sheets of glass, and constant thunder and lightening.
Much as I loved seeing the backwaters, and I shall remember my days on the waters as absolutely perfect, sitting on boats isn’t easy on the body, and no Indian bed comes with a soft mattress.
By the time I’d arrived here post three hours on an Indian pubic bus, I was exhausted.
Now, after a few days of walking, swimming (well kind of, so far each time the surf has defeated me, knocking me into the water-confident swimmers go beyond it, me I just get soaked and crawl back to the sand!!)…and meeting friends for lunch and supper, I feel so much better.
With Hannah, Debbie and I tried the cliff top restaurants, enjoying palak paneer, Kashmiri something or other-potato, nuts and fruit, very weird, with breads and juices.
But last night Debbie and I wandered along to the gaggle of very local tiny shacks by the temple gates, and has a superb supper of dosa and tomato curry with water for the princely sum of 50 rupees each, half the cost of the cliff top.
The local places have no menu, you have to eat just what is on offer, and there is no cutlery-I am now a dab hand at mixing, pulling and dextrously using my right hand only to eat and entire meal!
Yesterday I was aware that, as usual, we were the subject of curious staring by the locals, but I am so used to that I ignored it-then, to our surprise, as we finished our meal and got up to wash our hands in the communal basin, the elder men smiled and clapped….normally men don’t smile, so we were very pleased that they genuinely seemed to appreciate our ability to ‘be‘Indian.
Debbie is moving on today, and Hannah left yesterday, but I plan to have another day of being solo, just walking and relaxing….I hear mixed reviews about Kovolam, but who knows, I’ve learnt to expect the unexpected…..
For a small sum, at the stall of your choice, one can be blessed, accompanied by chants, incense and drums, and you then take your offering of leaves full of bananas, flowers, and sweets, and walk into the sea, throwing it in behind you.
Despite not being Hindu, here anything is possible for a price, and the holy men seemed very happy to bless me and Debbie!!
I had not realised just how tired I was, but the humidity in Kochi was oppressive, as was the constant lack of power there
Even the art cafes and heritage sites, fascinating though they were, and the breeze with the ferry trips and in the evening walking the ‘promenade’, I spent my entire time literally dripping.
Alleppey too was humid, this time accompanied by horrendous storms, rainfall like sheets of glass, and constant thunder and lightening.
Much as I loved seeing the backwaters, and I shall remember my days on the waters as absolutely perfect, sitting on boats isn’t easy on the body, and no Indian bed comes with a soft mattress.
By the time I’d arrived here post three hours on an Indian pubic bus, I was exhausted.
Now, after a few days of walking, swimming (well kind of, so far each time the surf has defeated me, knocking me into the water-confident swimmers go beyond it, me I just get soaked and crawl back to the sand!!)…and meeting friends for lunch and supper, I feel so much better.
With Hannah, Debbie and I tried the cliff top restaurants, enjoying palak paneer, Kashmiri something or other-potato, nuts and fruit, very weird, with breads and juices.
But last night Debbie and I wandered along to the gaggle of very local tiny shacks by the temple gates, and has a superb supper of dosa and tomato curry with water for the princely sum of 50 rupees each, half the cost of the cliff top.
The local places have no menu, you have to eat just what is on offer, and there is no cutlery-I am now a dab hand at mixing, pulling and dextrously using my right hand only to eat and entire meal!
Yesterday I was aware that, as usual, we were the subject of curious staring by the locals, but I am so used to that I ignored it-then, to our surprise, as we finished our meal and got up to wash our hands in the communal basin, the elder men smiled and clapped….normally men don’t smile, so we were very pleased that they genuinely seemed to appreciate our ability to ‘be‘Indian.
Debbie is moving on today, and Hannah left yesterday, but I plan to have another day of being solo, just walking and relaxing….I hear mixed reviews about Kovolam, but who knows, I’ve learnt to expect the unexpected…..
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