The penultimate post, 15 elephants in a car park and dancing with artificial christmas trees on your head

Morning all, its 07:30 and it must have rained in the night as the ground is damp and its a cool 26 C this morning. In just over two weeks we will fly back to the UK after 5 months here in Kovalam. I've decided this will be our last post from here in India, I will knock out a photo edition on our return, when i'll have more time to sort and edit them. Until then here is a random picture to be going on with. I spoke to my mom earlier in the week who asked if we were ready to return and have we "got it out of our system?" (not quite sure what she meant by IT) but i gave her an honest answer.

No.

I'm not saying we haven't missed friends and relatives and that there weren't times when being so far away from the kids wasn't difficult because they were, but life here is good for us. I could try and justify it in economic terms, rent on the apartment being less than our gas bill, cost of living etc. and no doubt that helps but being here has been about much more than money.

I could also go on about the health benefits we have enjoyed, I've lost what must be getting on for 3 stone (i tried on my belt last night and from being on the last notch I will now need to cut a new hole to wear it, none of my swim shorts fit and I have to pull the draw strings tight to avoid losing them in the sea and both of my knees work without complaint).

Its not just about being warm, the sunshine or the longer daylight hours, though the thought of returning to cold, dark damp mornings fills me with dread.

Nor is it the great hospitality and kindness we have been shown by our new friends.

Its India, it gets under your skin and into your blood, the chaotic and serene, poverty and affluence, spiritual and materialistic, living side by side. As I've said before this place assails, offends and delights the mind and senses like no other i've known. 

We have already begun to plan for later this year, Cambodia, Vietnam, Laos and then back to India for winter 2014/15.

15 Elephants in a car park

Last week Ruth, Sarah's second cousin, came to visit for a couple of weeks. It was interesting to watch someone's reactions to what we have come to see as "normal". While she was here we went to see a temple festival just north of Trivandrum in a smallish village as we had heard there were to be elephants. And there were, 15 of them, fully grown Indian Elephants. We arrived early and got to see them being dressed for the parade. Our first elephant sighting was on a plot of land just off the main village street, it was being rested after being brought in for the ceremony, she was a 30 year old female and to be honest looked tired and a little worse for wear. She was standing in the shade under a tree and her Mahoot was trying to get some rest a few feet from her. In her trunk she held a coconut palm frond, about 5 ft long, and was using it as a giant fan/fly swat casually waving it around as though it was as light as a feather. We took a few photos and were about to leave when our driver told us there was another elephant in the garden next door. He wasn't joking, just over the wall in someones front garden there was a young 15 year old male elephant, he stood bright eyed, stripping palm leaves with his trunk and pushing the fronds into his enormous mouth. The dexterity he displayed with his trunk was absolutely amazing. Its only when you stand 3 ft away from an elephant, with no bars or fences between you do you truly appreciate the size and strength of these magnificent animals. They way they look at you, size you up and seem to be aware of all that is going on, this is no big cow, there is a spark of "knowing" behind those large dark eyes. We stood and watched in awe, and then noticed that the family who owned he house where he has resting were all outside with cameras, clicking away ten to the dozen, not taking pictures of the elephant but of us. To them we were the "strange and exotic beasts" in the garden, we were the visitors who they would dine out on for months to come.

 "Do you remember when that enormous white, i say white he was actually bright red, man and those two women were in our garden? He was over 6 ft tall i didn't know they were that big until i stood next to him. The way he drank a whole liter of water in one go!!! I think he was hot even though it was only 30 C"

After we had talked to the house owners daughter, she told us they have an elephant in the garden every year, we followed the elephant down the road to the temple car park to see him dressed with the others.

When we got there, there were 3 elephants waiting some with their ceremonial head dresses in place, chomping on whole banana plants and taking things in their stride. The police were already there checking the registration documents of the animals and mahoots alike, no certificates of health for the elephant or correct documentation no parade and a spell in jail. Temple elephants are well looked after and strict rules enforced in their use, these are prized and potentially dangerous animals. All was in order, i.e. the elephants and mahoots passed muster and the elephants hadn't killed anyone in the previous four weeks (this is not a joke, its one of the rules, if they had, they would have had to have had "the nod" from the Wildlife and Forestry Commission before they could be used).

Quickly the four elephants became six, then ten, then thirteen and finally we were surrounded by 15 elephants in a space 50 x 50 meters, all being dressed for the parade, a truly awe inspiring sight.

Meanwhile at a stage on the edge of the car park we were treated to a display of drumming, martial arts and dance while surrounded by elephants who just stood there, watching us watching them as they ate their lunch.

Then in a moment worthy of Monty Python six men appeared on the stage. On each of  their heads was balanced what i can only describe as a 4 ft tall 3 ft wide silver artificial christmas tree covered in brightly coloured tin foil flowers. They then in all solemnity proceeded to dance, it was totally surreal. I didn't know if i should be amazed, impressed, or just howl with laughter. It was so..... India.

Ok thats it until we are back in the UK, I have dosas getting cold and a beach getting hot to see to.

Have a good week

K&S

xxx

Being Manly....

Good Morning, its 8:36 a.m. here in Kovalam and i'm sitting in the apartment alone eating home made dosas and sambal. I say home made, i didn't make them, Muntaz the apartment owner who lives in the downstairs apartment did. Sarah and Ruthy are off on a rice boat cruising the Keralan backwaters, think gourmet Keralan food, Norfolk Broads plus rice paddis, duck herders in canoes, 30+ C lounging on day beds as the world floats by and you will get the picture. I on the other hand have spent the last two days bouncing over some monster waves, reading a Robert Harris novel, sleeping on the beach and last night watching a Stalone/Arnie film while eating a chicken tikka masalla and downing a couple of tins of Bud, each to their own.

Breakfast this morning was a surprise, or rather second breakfast, as i'd already had a couple of weetabix. Muntaz had decided as i had been abandoned by these feckless women I would be unable to feed myself and delivered my second breakfast. She also took one look round the apartment and decided i have to hand in my key so she can clean when I'm out.

Being a self reliant "modern man" (ok ok i can hear the howls of laughter from the rice boat from here) the job description for being a man or woman feels very strange and rather awkward here to western eyes. For example, back home we have several unwritten rules, if you cook the meal the other person washes up, (this isn't just courtesy but a survival technique as we both make rubbish sous chefs), once it becomes impossible to tell the TV is HD its time to dust, hovering is to be done when the plain carpet is beginning to look patterned or when we had dogs when it had a black Labrador sheen and in the main it is a joint effort.

Here this is "women's work", Muntaz and Jodthy (our friend Chris's wife) find it very strange that a man should or even could cook or wash up in their own home when they have a wife. Not very manly, ironic in a country where most of the men wear skirts.

This is amusing side to gender here but there is a much much darker one.

A month ago the Hindu reported a rape of a village woman in the north of India, disturbing enough but the details were horrific. It was a gang rape, not by a drunken mob or a sex offender ring but by a village. The woman had "had relations" with a man from another village and the headman in the village had sentenced her to be raped in the village square by the men of the village and her lover to be forced to watch.

She had not immediately reported the crime as she was afraid if she did the village would shun her and her family, indeed members of her family have now disowned her for doing so.

In the celebrity section of the paper a famous actor was telling the world how he hates India being labelled as a "developing nation" as it is the world's largest democracy, had a centuries old culture, is a world power, had hosted some of the most impressive technological advances of the 21st century and had "arrived".

I think he needs to take a look around and get back on the bus.

And now I think i'll go have a quick tidy round, do the washing up and make the bed before I go to the beach and before Muntaz pops back upstairs....

K

Becoming Hinglish, Indian Building. and a Pair of Pants

So the weekend is fast approaching, time is flying by and we have just another five and a bit weeks here in India. This time next week Ruthy, Sarah's second cousin, will have arrived to get her first taste of India. I'm looking forward to seeing Kovalam through a fresh pair of eyes as much of "The Unusual" has become common place for us now. A familiarity as crept into how we see the place, we no longer remark on the litter except when its been cleaned up, the heat and day-in-day-out sunshine are taken for granted, occasionally I catch myself wobbling my head in response to questions but mostly it goes unnoticed and i find myself drifting into Hinglish syntax and phraseology. We are absorbing and being absorbed into this massive, populous, terrifying, delightful, confusing, wonderful country. We have learnt time here is relative and moves forward at its own pace, things happen when they will and trying to force the issue is pointless. Much as we have learnt to time our entry into the sea to reach safe swimming rather than to attempt dive through the breakers and end up thrown back onto the sand, we have learnt how to wait. When something is delivered "on time" it is to be celebrated but the important thing is that it is delivered at all.

This weekend the hotel being built just outside our kitchen window is due to finally open for business, you may remember we attended the official opening almost two months ago on the astrologically significant day as decreed by the temple priests, but this weekend should see the first fee paying guests arrive. The last few days have been a frenzy of bed building, laying of tiles and random cleaning. Praveen, the project manager, has gone from just looking like the most worried man in Kerala to the most worried man in the sub-continent. The afternoons have been punctuated by the sound of disk cutters, cutting, grinding and putting the finishing touches to the building while he stands and checks things off a long list of things to do. Incidentally, i have no idea how anything got built in India before the invention of the disk cutter, its used for everything. The standard method of construction appears to be to cast a large slab of concrete then sculpt the building out of the block with a disk cutter. If there are any detailed drawings scheduling first and second fix I've never seen them being consulted, its an organic process of design and redesign on the hoof.

The decision to raise the swimming pool on stilts outside the front of the hotel was such an organic development, a last minute decision when they realised they didn't have enough car parking, a car park which at the moment appears to have now morphed into a restaurant, when they discovered they didn't have one in the original plan and the access road is too narrow anyway. It will be entertaining to see the look on the guests faces when they are sitting having a romantic meal and we open our kitchen window straight into their restaurant. Almost as entertaining as when they are lounging in their infinity pool on stilts looking out over the sea as Sarah suddenly appears, apparently floating in mid-air, pegging out our smalls on our roof. Ah, I can see the guests now, a glorious sunset scene, lazing in the high tech infinity pool, mojito in hand, quaint wooden fishing boats bobbing in the bay and slap bang in the middle my (once white) pants hanging from the line.

In essence typical Indian building, unbelievably beautiful, high tech, traditional and but for the lack of planning... a bit pants.

have a good weekend

K&S

Seeing the new stuff

They say travel broadens the mind, not sure who "they" are but "they" do have a point. It certainly makes you aware of difference and at its best makes you re-examine what you have taken as read. As a species we have thrived on spotting the difference, the new, the unexpected. In evolutionary terms i guess its from the need to not just see the familiar landscape but to see that there is now a tiger poking its nose out from behind the bush at the edge of the forest. We are not alone in taking in the world in this way, dragonflies with their massive compound eyes have a pixilated view of multiple images, its when one of those images changes, becomes different that they take note and react be it to avoid a leaf or catch a flying insect for lunch.

The world we live in is complex, chaotic, overwhelming; sights, sounds, smells, touch constantly and unrelentingly assault our senses. To make sense of what's important our brains have become expert in switching off our attention from the familiar, the understood and seeking out difference. Its a tricky job and how we react to new things will determine our ability to survive e.g. tiger spotted on the edge of the forest = run away, potential mate = hug. Get them the wrong way round and you are in a world of pain.

India assaults the senses like no other place I've been but after a while, even here the bizarre becomes common place. Deciding what to write about, what I or you will find interesting is a constant challenge as what I now take for granted you would be shocked or enthralled by.

Mostly its the little stuff, the day to day I find most interesting after all that's where we live most of our lives. Tales of how we deal with the common place, traffic, food, work, relationships, religion, living in a hot climate, keeping healthy. i could wax lyrical about the temples, the architecture, how the mists poured down the hills in Munnar, the way the setting sun sets the sea on fire but to be honest i'd never do them justice and there are myriad of travel books you could read that would do a far better job. So I stick to what i know and see, people going about their daily lives in a very different place to our little village on the edge of Dartmoor. The longer we are here its harder to do as its amazing how fast the "different" becomes the norm.

Take food, i know i keep going on about food but it is sooooo good here and so different to being at home. I know for some of you, and certainly for my mother, the thought of curried hard boiled egg first thing in the morning isn't a natural choice and when we got here neither was it for us. Now its almost unthinkable to start the day without perotta or dosas and a good egg masalla. Back home i struggle to achieve the 5 fruit and veg a day recommended and few meals are without some sort of meat or dairy, here i've usually hit the 5-a-day by lunch and the odd egg apart often go without meat for several days in a row. I can count the number of times i've had pork, lamb(goat) or  beef on the fingers of one hand and can honestly say i've not missed it. Its "different".

Expectations here are different too, the most obvious being  life expectancy, in 2011 it was  65.48 years compaired with 80.75 in England (for the information of those working in the NHS, the life expectancy in the US for the same time period was 78.6 years - still want to move to an American model of health and social care?). i.e just over 15 years less.

In terms of income and expectations the Times of India in Feb 2012 reported the Indian per capita income had risen to £533 per year, OK its a big country with over a billion people but to put it another way yesterday the Hindu published its business section, its a bit like the guardian jobs section. Here, out to national advert, are some of the best jobs one of which caught my eye. It was for a university librarian, the candidate must hold an MA in a relevant subject, be fully qualified and no more than 35 (age discrimination is allowed here, i didn't see a single job I could have applied for at 52 years old but if i was expected to peg it in 17 years not surprising, India is a young country). The starting salary was £70 per month pro rata. Oh and for those of you in the medical profession a specialist registrar in the government hospital gets less per month than a single Ddoc shift and full time works well in excess of the 48 hours max. just to add insult to injury the figure is reduced by 75% when you aren't needed or not working.

True living costs are lower, but the prices of all the consumer goods we in the west think are so vital to our lives aren't. At these salaries is it any wonder most of our call centres are in Mumbai or Bangalore, staffed in the main with graduates and post graduates?

Talking of call centres (and heading off on a tangent) pretty much everyone (and i'm not exaggerating) here has a mobile phone.  Its said India has skipped the industrial revolution and moved straight into the technological one. Even TATA India's manufacturing giant once a tea producer (and now owner of Jaguar Land Rover) is now moving into telecommunications having its own 3G enabled mobile network and looking to team up with SKY to take on satellite TV. Even small restaurants are expected to provide access to WiFi for their customers. If you are doubting India's technological prowess, it might be worth remembering they are a nuclear power with intercontinental missiles, they are in the process of designing a lunar rover to be deployed in the next few years and are the technical hub for many of the worlds biggest IT firms, in processing power they could give silicon valley a run for its money.

That said, yesterday I saw an old lady at the side of the road, I'd seen here many times before, almost part of the scenery, she is there most days, doing her job. Her job is simple, every morning a large granite bolder is delivered to her by truck, it must weigh several tonnes. Her tools are a lump hammer and a woven palm frond. She sits under the palm frond to keep the sun off her head and uses the hammer to chip away at the bolder to make gravel for the construction industry. probably there was a similar old lady employed to make gravel for India's ancient temples. A job a thousand years away from the hi-tech multinational air conditioned glass palaces of Bangalore.

I guess "difference" is everywhere and i never fail to be amazed by it, but sometimes its things that stay the same, things we no longer see through familiarity that we should question.

Enjoy the weekend

K&S
24/1/14

A Road Trip to Munnar (2)

Picking up where I left off, the hotel was rather nice, perched on the side of the hill looking out over the valley the view down to the paddi fields below and up to the mist shrouded hill tops magical. (if you are genuinely interested you can have a peak here http://www.thewindmunnar.com/) Apprently the hotel had only opened the previous year and the rooms spacious and modern. It was ranked #1 on TripAdvisor so we were in for a treat, or so we thought. We woke at dawn to watch the sun rise at one end of the valley and a full moon set behind the mountains at the other, stunning.

There was just one problem, apart from the tuk tuk ride down the cliff that is, the service. Don't get me wrong, the staff were all smiles and eager to please, just clueless, perhaps the best illustration was breakfast.

As usual i ordered masala dosa, coffee, and juice. Sarah ordered scrambled eggs on toast (having given up trying to explain what poached meant) juice and lemon honey and hot water as she doesn't do caffeine. I should have known by the fixed smile, wobble of the head and panicked eyes the waiter had no idea what we had ordered. After 30 mins I popped my head in the kitchen to be shooed out with assurances that it was "coming". Sure enough 10 mins later two glasses of pineapple juice arrived, followed after another ten minutes by a basket of toast (which was sent back by us to be toasted) and reappeared another 10 minutes later. Sarah's eggs arrived next which she ate so they wouldn't get cold. 15 mins after she had eaten her eggs a smiling waiter popped out of the kitchen to ask if we had enjoyed breakfast. I calmly (honestly, i was too gob smacked to get angry) pointed out I hadn't had any and where were my dosas? "Dosa... Coming..."

Breakfast took just over 90 mins, we had effectively eaten alone taking it in turn to watch the other one eat.

Our driver hadn't had much luck either, he had slept in the car and by morning was rather cold so he popped down to the local chai wallah for a warming cup of sweet milky tea only to be told black tea only... a cobra had bitten the chai wallahs cow which had died. We should have taken it as an omen.

Once we had managed to escape from breakfast we jumped into the taxi ready for a day of sight seeing, the tea gardens, Munnar town, elephant camp, floral gardens, the Tea Museum and the National Park. Here's my thoughts and ratings.

The Tea Gardens 8/10
Tea Gardens in India are different to the ones at home in England, no cast iron chairs and tables, parasols, clotted cream or Victoria sponge just thousands and thousands of neatly trimmed camellia bushes stretching for miles and miles up ludicrously steep hills, looking like a real life set from the telly tubbies. Watching the tea pickers work was fascinating they actually do look like the picture on the PG Tips box. I could bore you with the difference between white, black and green tea, the different grades from dust to tips but if you are that interested i suggest you look it up (I'd probably get it confused anyway).

Munnar Town 3/10
All the charm of a long distance lorry park being used for a car boot sale. Its one of the few places that have banished plastics in an attempt to deal with the rubbish problem, there are signs up and everything.... but as out taxi driver said "They are only words". We have been coming to India for 8 years now and it ranks as our least favourite place, maybe its the contrast with the beauty of the hills but it really is an ugly town.

Elephant Camp 4/10
If you love seeing elephants being made to perform for the public this is for you, but not for us.

Floral Gardens 6/10
Nice flowers, think B&Q bedding plants on a may day bank holiday with a few Tesco orchids thrown in.

Tea Museum 8/10
Interesting, in fact more interesting than I'd expected. History of Munnar as a tea town with a nice video presentation.

National park
Abandoned - decided to call it a day and return to the hotel as we had another 10 hour journey back to Kovalam the next morning

The return trip was uneventful, no one died, i got to eat a beef thalli meal (I think it was made from the hoof of the cow killed by the cobra) but thats all really.

In short, the hills are worth a look but not worth a special trip to see them, go when you are in the area going to Alappuzha or Kochi. Munnar town is a dump and don't rely on TripAdvisor ratings as your sole reference when picking your hotel.

So now we are back in 34+C heat, swimming every day in blue seas and eating great food. The trip had done just what we needed, reminded us how much we like living here.

K&S

p.s. We also visited a Hydroelectric dam, Echo point and a Pharmacy to get some Listerine, the Pharmacy was the high point.

A Road Trip to Munnar, (Part 1)

Well hello there, we are back from our 3 day trip to Munnar and as promised here's what went on.


Not long after new year Tom and Lauren came to stay with us for a few days as part of their holiday here in India, they had had a few days in Mumbai, a few in Goa and then flew down to Kerala to spend some time with us. It was great to see them, we caught up on the "real world" and had some great meals but they had gone back and left us feeling a bit flat so we decided we also needed a holiday. We looked at the flights to Dubai, Sri Lanka and even Thailand and though cheaper than flying from the UK were still more than we wanted to pay for a short break. So, we decided to go on what my mother would call "an adventure" here in Kerala. But where? Ruth, Sarah's 2nd cousin is due to join us in four weeks time for a couple of weeks, her first trip to India, so no doubt she will want to do one or more of the usual destinations e.g. House Boat, Sleeper to Madurai etc. so where to go? Since new year the temperature has been steadily rising averaging 34 C in the shade so we decided to head for the hills to Munnar.

Munnar is a hill station, a small town 1600 m above sea level in the Western Ghats i.e at the top right hand tip of Kerala. It's famous for its tea gardens and according to the travel info set in stunning scenery, lush and green, oh and cool. Its where the Raj went  when it got a bit too warm for comfort. According to Google maps its a 5-6 hour journey by car so doable. I consulted TripAdvisor and found the top rated hotel and found it to be reasonable (for a treat and couple of days holiday) at £45 per night and the taxi for three days inc. driver was £120 i.e we would be only moderately ripped off by Indian Tourist Rates. So we booked it.

We packed our bag for the frozen north as at night the temperature was predicted to crash to the mid teens i.e. 16 C at night and no higher than 28 C in the day, positively cold, and to make the most of the day were picked up at 7 a.m. by our driver. We made ourselves comfy(ish) for the drive and then were told the journey would take 10 hours and not the 6 as predicted by Google. 10 hours on good Indian roads is no joke, when half the journey is on one track mountain roads its a nightmare. I adopted a fixed grin and settled back to the joy of feeling like I was being kicked up the arse by a man with hobnail boots for the entire trip.

A little about Indian main roads, mostly they are three lanes wide, not that they are supposed to be, they just work out that way. There is one lane in each direction, sort of, and the informal bus or lorry lane which runs down the white line in the centre. This is the "Lane of Death" with traffic traveling at break neck speed simultaneously in either direction. its also where you have to go to overtake. (NB. overtaking should preferably be done on blind bends, over bridges or when the road narrows, at least that's how it feels. Apparently when Fast and Furious was shown here no one could understand what was the problem as it appeared to be about a few mates taking a Sunday drive).

Fortunately we had a good driver, but he did have one rather disturbing habit. He was a devout christian not a problem in itself but every few hundred yards there was a roadside shrine or church (some no doubt commemorating the last major accident, where someone had gone off a cliff or ploughed into oncoming traffic) and he insisted on taking his hands off the wheel to bless himself as we passed, three cars abreast at 60 mph with a sheer drop on one side and a 40 tonne truck heading straight for us on the other.

However, after 10 hours of bum numbing, white knuckle ride through some truly beautiful mountain roads with spectacular cliff views (which I saw all too close for my liking) we finally arrived at our hotel. Well not quite "at the hotel" near would be more accurate. The 1.5km drive down to the hotel, which was perched on the side of the hill, was being repaired so our taxi couldn't get us all the way there. The repairs were "interesting" at the top of the single track drive a 5m x 25m concrete slab was being laid and further down to save concrete two concrete tracks had been made one for each wheel, the center of the road being large hardcore rubble, no doubt to help with drainage in rainy season. After a long long drive walking down the hill with our bags was not going to be fun. We shouldn't have worried the hotel had arranged transport to get us from the slab to reception and were sending the vehicle up to meet us. A nice touch. Then it arrived. A tuk tuk. If you are unfamiliar with this mode of transport, there is one defining thing which describes a tuk tuk. They have 3 wheels. A two track road with hard core down the middle is not an ideal road surface for a tuk tuk and after 10 hours on death defying roads with a driver who felt the need to take is hands off the wheel everytime we passed a depiction of the Madonna or a cross whilst heading into oncoming traffic on a mountain pass we nearly ended up at the bottom of a cliff 300 meters from the hotel as the front wheel jammed into a large rock in the middle of the track.

At this point i remember shouting something like "Jesus H Christ!!!" as the tuk tuk reared up then set itself down on the road with inches to spare... Maybe the driver had got it right.

Harvest Festival, A Fishy Orgy & Chicken Offal Curry

Wednesday 15th Jan 2014

from the last blog you will know yesterday was Pongal (Harvest Festival) here in Southern India, the date varies as its defined by the full moon, at bit like Easter. It was a joyous affair, the Mosque was decorated with miles of bunting stretched out from the minaret  to the surrounding coconut trees to form  a canopy of green flags which fluttered and bobbed in the light breeze.

Music blared out from a bank of speakers which had appeared on the car park at the end of our road not long after dawn prayers had finished at the mosque and there was an air of festival excitement building. As at home on bank holidays the morning had started with rain but unlike home by 10:00 the clouds had burnt back to revel a blue sky.  It was obviously a big day , all the kids were off from school and were running around with big smiles on their faces. 2013's monsoon had been good and it was a good harvest.

From our balcony we watched the crowds build men, women and children all obviously out for a good time. What happened next took us by surprise as the women and children all began to head towards the mosque carrying buckets and containers, initially i thought they might contain the usual harvest festival donations of tins of fruit cocktail or salmon but they were empty.

Here, as we found out later, the custom is for the mosque to give rice to the community and the women were all queuing up for their share.

Next a troop of dancers, all boys this was a Muslim celebration, appeared dressed not unlike morris men at home complete with tambourines and sticks adorned with tassels and proceeded to delight the crowd with what i can only describe as a cross between energetic morris and line dance made all the more impressive in the now noon day heat and the whole community had turned out to watch. Muntaz and Ali who own our apartment and live on the ground floor below us were there and tried to explain what was going on, no doubt some was lost in translation but it was great fun to watch.

As the dancers finished their final dance we headed off for the beach only to discover it covered with dead fish. What kind of eco disaster were we looking at? pollution? some deep sea trawler dumped its by-catch just off shore? I was seriously concerned until i noticed they were all the same species of fish, all about the same size and had a curious hollowed out look to them. Then the penny dropped, we weren't looking at a scene of death and devastation but one of birth and renewal, it was a mass spawning triggered by last nights full moon. The fish had accomplished their goal and now spent had died and been washed up on the shore. Impressive but all part of life and death's cycle, even if a bit smelly until the crows and jackdaws had cleared them away.

On our return home Muntaz appeared with several bowls and containers, she had prepared a havest meal and wanted us to share in the day. Pilao rice, coconut and lentil sambal, a meat curry, raita and popodums. It was delicious or it was until i began exploring the meat curry. Don't get me wrong ir was delicious and made from chicken (I'd noticed the the number of chickens in Muntaz's yard had fallen by one but that was OK, that was what they were there for and made it an even more auspicious meal) it was what i discovered that made me squeamish. An un-laid egg. In India, chicken curry means it has chicken in it, this can entail anything from breast and leg to liver, heart , kidneys in fact anything which is edible. I realise that protein here is expensive (relatively) and if you are going to kill one of the birds you have feed and nurtured you want to make sure nothing and i mean nothing goes to waste but I'm afraid my inner western Waitrose shopper rebelled. As far as chicken offal goes i draw the line at chicken liver. It was a truly lovely thought on her part and after careful forensic examination of the rest of the curry i managed to eat enough to show gratitude. It was after all - delicious.

Tomorrow we are off to Munnar for 2 -3 days  a tea town in the hills a 5 - 6 hour drive. According to my Weather App its cold up there, at night the temperature crashing to 16 C and day temp scarcely rising to 28 C. I'm considering taking a onesie for nights and a fleece for the day time.

I'll let you know how i managed in the cold when we get back.

Oh well Dosas are calling.... then off to the beach.

Have a good day

K&S