I managed to pool together with 3 others I had met on the backwaters trip and share a taxi to Varkala. The journey was in a rickety old 4x4 and by the time we arrived, we had almost killed a cat and had 5 near head on collisions with oncoming traffic. The driver however was totally unfazed. While a little scary, it was a relief to know that my PTSD heart jolts I used to get in cars have now been stress tested and definitely passed.
I decided to get a hotel for the first night as the place I wanted to stay at was fully booked. When checking in, they asked if I wanted an A/C room or not. I think after 10 years of living in my Mile End sauna of a flat, I have now acclimatised and find A/C too cold so I opted for the fan, which was cheaper. The bell boy took me to my room and clarified with the manager what room I had chosen. As soon as he replied, the bell boy took the A/C remote away. Classic. Just for that I (unsuccessfully) attempted to switch it on manually.
That day I went to the beach for sunset and once I had learnt to drown out the constant whistle blowing by the burly Varkalan lifeguards I managed to get into my next book of the trip. Dopamine Nation: Finding Balance in the Age of Indulgence by Anna Lemke. I can already tell it’s going to be a good one.
This video should give you an idea of the lifeguards diligently carrying out their duties.
I then moved to a more sociable place, getting an outdoor hut in a hostel nearby, which I thought was actually much nicer than the hotel. I had initially come to Varkala to surf and now with my ankle giving way I was ready to laze around in this idyllic cliff-backed beach town, which while having religious significance as a pilgrimage site dedicate to Lord Vishnu had, in recent years, become a yoga and surf hotspot for western and Indian tourists alike.
The next few days went by pretty quickly as I spent the majority of it at the various bars, restaurants and beaches of Varkala talking with and hearing the weird, wonderful and heartbreaking stories of lovely fellow individual and couple travellers. Fast forward to 3 days later and the conversations just turned into hostel gossip. We’re really all the same deep down no matter how we present ourselves.
I attempted yoga one day with this 62 year old contortionist and I spent about 90% of the time opting out of doing things and resting in child's pose. Emma definitely has her work cut out for her when she qualifies!
One highlight was going to a Toddy bar with 2 Indians, who, like me, had also opted out of the Bharat Natyam traditional dance event the hostel had organised, (I have seen my cousin Anjul attempt this as a joke so many times I feel the real thing wouldn’t live up to my expectation). The venue was in a beautiful area inland overlooking a large lake and we were there for sunset. The toddy was as vile as the one I had in the backwaters (although I was too polite to say) and was also not having much effect on me. The conversations went deep and I learned about life in their social circles (middle class 20/30 somethings living in Mumbai & Bangalore) and had to rethink my ingrained prejudice in believing that Indians in India were more traditional than the Indian diaspora. Some things that shocked me:
There is a huge hook up culture through dating apps in India at the moment and people are facing similar issues in finding long term partners.
There is also a drug culture and most are used for the same occasions as in the west. The one above all.. coke at weddings. This really shocked me given differences in wedding cultures but I guess maybe the youth of today aren’t built like they used to and need help to last the 5 day extravaganza.
Surprisingly Indians in India seem to be more open with their parents about these sort of topics and it seems to be having a positive effect on relationships and the well-being of all.
I received my 2nd massage of the trip in Varkala and went to a place rated 5* on google. This time I was asked to remove all my clothes and wear this loin cloth that seemed like it was fashioned out of toilet paper and string. As any man will tell you, it always hangs to a particular side and the massage was going well but when the guy reached my upper leg I felt a few grazes against it. It was definitely an accident and I decided not to rearrange myself there and then to not draw attention to it, which would have been super awkward for both of us. I eagerly awaited him moving to the left leg where I knew it would be well out the way. Other than that was actually a very good massage but in the end I once again received fingers in my ears. I have now learnt it is a practice known as Karna Purna and is believed to be effective in treating infections of the ear, ringing in the ears, and some forms of hearing impairments. It also helps cleanse the ear canal and middle ear by pulling out any impurities in that area. Massage count 2. Oily wet willy count 4.
The rest of my time was spent eating, drinking and watching a black & white Indian indie (or maybe indie indie) film with the crew of friends I had made as well as gaining a reputation as the one to beat in the hostel at table tennis..some competition but safe to say I left undefeated.
Question: if they moved to your left leg and “it” was out of the way, why did you have an “oily wet willy” four times?
Anjul Count: 2 😁