Alleppey

Hello!
Sorry for the lapse in my usually Germanic posting efficiency - the wifi on my phone seems a little screwed up.
This is just a short note to say we are alive and most well - now in alleppey, about to get a houseboat overnight which should be incredible. Stay tuned until tomorrow when we will a) post the report of final day in kollam and b) post today's blog

With love as ever

(Photo below is from
Kollam canoeing - taster of things to come...)

Kollam - cashews and civil unrest

It was soon after noon when we were ambushed. smoke, explosions and flashes erupted to our right, Lissy ducked beneath our taxi's window for cover. And we were passing a standard, peaceful political rally - astonishing how hyped up everyone was, given the laid-back attitude of Kerala, typified by the contagious head-wobbling. They take politics seriously here: in 1957 Kerala democratically elected a communist govt - the first place in the world to do so - and there are currently 4 'communist' parties seeking election in Kerala.

The head wobble is leading to increasingly awkward situations. Eg: Me to tuktuk driver: "I can't remember the direction to Ashtamudi (our fantastic hotel), do you know the way?"
Tuktuk driver to me: *wobble wobble*
- long silence -
Me: "is that a yes wobble, or a no wobble?" He wasn't that offended, and I wanted to walk anyway.

So we're now based in Kollam, a town renowned for being the centre of the local, world-famous cashew industry - apparently Columbus was trying to get here for the cashews when he discovered America. Smart.

It turns out I'm as nuts (pardon da pun) about cashews as Columbus was: I loaded up on facts (from our hotel bookshelf) before we hit the town - cashews were introduced to India in around 1590, and they damn delicious.
It's so hard to make cashew-related jokes (see above), but well done to these time-heavy freaks for trying:
http://hilariouscashewjokes.tumblr.com/
Their jokes may possibly be worse than some of mine (yes, I have been joking).

Perhaps my dejected mental state can explain my terrible bant: not only was the famous Vijayalaxmi cashew emporium closed, but the only other tree-grown delights we could find were more expensive gram-for-gram than the weed Roti-the-rickshaw-dealer (see below, and if you're a parent of course i'm joking - he was v expensive) was shifting.

On the plus side, I got an Indian phone: this newsagent man called Riyaz gave me his SIM card and a phone, as well as his number - interesting 'game' tactics if ever I saw them. Also, this ancient, white-haired, emaciated fella on a bike asked us to take photos of him - having checked whether he looked sharp, he gave us his name so he could use the snaps for a new profile photo.

I spent a fair amount of time in the hammock today, so my nose is now looking like some sort of Jewish strawberry.

Farewell Varkala and terrifying children

An imagined scene:

Local youth 1: "hey mate what you planning on doing this Thursday morning?"

Local youth 2: "I dunno... I may hide by a beach hut and jump out on Europeans and demand photos with them..."

Local youth 1: "sweet bro! That sounds good, see you there - gonna get so many selfies"

En route to black beach this morning, this seemingly strange possibility became a reality - we were pounced upon by the local lads, who requested photos in ALL sorts of poses. Of course, we enjoyed their sheer excitement, but hearing "you're beautiful" made me feel like a (barely) hairier Bieber.

Speaking of which, over the last couple of days we have acquired our own biggest fan, although perhaps stalker is a more accurate description - a young girl working in one of the shops lining the cliff has adopted us as cash cow #1, trying to flog all ridiculous sorts of wares to us. She has become so persistent, so pesky, to the extent that tonight we adopted disguises as we made our way to dinner (see below).

We enjoyed a fantastic last dinner at Hungry Eye, albeit having to keep to a £2.50 budget - on the way back to our hotel I had a transformative experience: there, on a bag being sold in one of the tat stores, was an uncanny semblance of my/Zander sharp's face (see below).

Leaving varkala for kollam tomorrow - a shame to be leaving such an idyllic place, "but why think about that when all the golden lands ahead of you and all kinds of unforseen events wait lurking to surprise you and make you glad you're alive to see".

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

Verkala

As we write, we're sitting under the stars enjoying mojitos on the cliffs of Verkala - the downside? Our impending dietary apocalypse which could result from our first venture into the Indian culinary sphere.
Having dumped our bags at the hotel - referenced as a hotel for "garden gnomes" by lonely planet (perhaps more due to the small dimensions of
Rooms as opposed to the kitsch cuteness) - we strolled along the cliffs and down to the beach; there's an astonishing amount of fellow foreigners, although the bellies and tattoos on display are a stark warning against the possibility of a 30-year gap yah.

Tired from our travels, we've retreated to the cafe del mar for bevs and dinner - occasionally harassed by locals selling bongo drums and other must-have hippie gear. We were almost too un-hippie for the beach, so are planning to stock up on baggy trousers before tomorrow's sesh - any requests do contact us on provided emails.

With love
Xxx

Flight

We have arrived! Thanks be to Allah for Oman air - air hostess comes along, asks if we want any drinks: "yeah, two please - *pshh* *pshh* - glug glug glug - red wine! Red wine!" Having taken full advantage of the complimentary drinks we fell into a drunken stupor, awakening as we touched down in Oman. Costa coffee was the cultural highlight of our trip there.

Then on to Trivandrum - on arriving we were greeted by the taxi driver waiting for "Mr Sack Down". Charming. We now understand why people "find themselves"/"find harmony with nate-chaah" in India: as the taxi journeys are so frickin terrifying you really appreciate life, as it may be ended quickly by a brightly-decorated bus.

Off for evening bevs and exploration,

With love

Farewell!

Getting on plane now, speak later!