Varkala - temples, dealers and dancing

"Hey sweety" - as I heard those words spoken behind me, the possibility of being chatted up by a bikini-ed babe crossed my mind; on turning, I saw my chatters-up were a group of 26 year old Indian men. This is the life.

Spent part of the day on black beach - originally named so as the sand was, incredibly, black. To our left the red
Cliffs of varkala jutted into the expanse of ocean, a view somewhat spoiled by the Russian fatties frolicking in the water.

Post lunch we tuktuk-ed into town to spec out the temple complex - fantastically colourful. On the way back to our hotel we witnessed our first indian drug experience - Roti the tuktuk driver took a "detour" to drop off to his man-bagged "friend". Subtly is key here.

In the hope of avoiding gap yah stereotypes, we decided to watch a performance of Kathakali, the local dance: - I had the most transformative experience: although he was dressed as a black-faced demoness, as I met eyes with one of the dancers, I felt that we were kindred spirits. Etc. (being serious, the dance was fascinating, and, typically, I was picked for audience participation).

To end the day we had a slap-up meal, complete with prohibition-style drinks (see photo). As we sign off we are
In the local "nightclub", and FYI Indian dancing skills are as epic in real
Life as they are in the movies.

With love