Kovalam to Varkala (70 km)
This entry was posted on 2/7/2007 9:59 PM and is filed under Daily Itineraries.
When Kiwi, Marcus and I finally came to conciousness on Kovalam beach, we had only two things on all of our minds: our immense thirst, closely followed by our hunger. Looking for a restaurant along the 1-person wide beach boardwalk gave us a chance to finally check out the Kovalam scene. It's an interesting mix of mostly rotund European tourists on inexpensive package tours combined with skeletal long term stay yoga-mediation freaks. We didn't fit into either one. Nevertheless, there was a certain attraction about the fresh steamed Baracuda in banana leaf and cold Kingfisher beer that we were required to guardedly drink out of coffee mugs or tea kettles. It's a curious agreement the restaurants have with local authorities: in exchange for a regular supply of backsheesh (i.e., $$), restaurants are permitted to serve beer provided: (1) it's not on the menu; (2) the bottles and alcohol are hidden from visual sight; and (3) the bill reflects only the consumption of something called 'Pope Juice'. I wonder what the Pope would have to say about that?
For the first time since arriving in India, I awoke the next morning to the song of birds hanging out in the cocunut groves. Indulging in the ambience, we decided to take a 'day-off' the bike. Casting aside my long standing rule of never getting on a bus in a third world, Marcus and I took the 8 Rs ride into the 850,000 person capital of Kerala, Trivandrum. We went for the free massages at the massage school but I ended up spending most of the day resolving a beef I had with my mobile phone provider. I was sent back and forth across town from the large Georgian style Secretariat building on MG Road to the Women's College across town and caddy-corner to the stately architectural wonder of the police commissioners office. Finally, after an unintentional and lengthy walk around the Sri Pad Palace via the local fruit smoothie cum sweets shop I landed in the administrative headquarters for the best southern India mobile phone provider, Airtel. A young receptionist took pity on my mobile phone plight and made some special calls to someone higher up who was able to make a few 'tourist exceptions' for the dumb blonde. I know we read the only way things work in India is with a little grease, but I have consistently found the local business people to be incredibly helpful, honest and willing to go far beyond the usual call of duty.
The bus back to Kovalam Beach was as expected -- hot and bulging with babies, fish and too many people, including at least 10 who were flailing around like flags on the window bars outside the bus. Note to self: never take another bus in India again.
The next morning I loaded Ganesh alone. Marcus decided to check himself into an ashram for some yoga and R&R. I half-expected that I too would want to experience an Indian ashram, but when I heard I might have to clean toilets as part of my chores, I thought better of it. It's not that I'm opposed to domestic chores, it's just not something I'd sign-up for in India if given the choice.
Plus, I was getting a pungent taste for the type of westerners at the Indian ashrams -- a little lost, a bit sickly and, quite frankly, in search of a home. Perhaps it's their strict vegetarian diet or cleaning too many squat toilets, but they all seem to lack a single joule of energy. What's most puzzling of all is how they justify their clean, albeit instrospective existence, with smoking a chain of hand-rolled cigarettes.
After a quick farewell to the Canada boys preparing for their morning swim, Ganesh and I toiled up and out of Kovalam Beach to Varkala. We were able to skirt around the madness in Trivandrum by taking the airport road junction, reconnecting with the main road well north of the city. The road was one successive town after another, interspersed with some high-end work and lifestyle campuses. Clearly super-centers for technology and American customer service support.
The turn off for Varkala is not well marked but eventually I came across a rickshaw driver who pointed me west. From the mainroad, it's another 13 km to Varkala cliff where a jumble of guesthouses, resorts and home stays abound. Unexpectedly, the accomodations are a little pricier than in Kovalam but I found a home stay in a somewhat sterile mansion for 400 Rs/night. Not a bad deal considering I have a spacious top floor veranda overlooking a banana plantation and room large enough for an orchestra.
Amongst travelers, Varkala is known as THE hidden beach gem. Goa being the first to be discovered, shortly followed by Kovalam. Indeed, as beaches go, it's one of the best -- spacious and white, gently sloping into a somewhat fierce shore break. It's also the capital of yoga in Kerala, with a density of outdoor 'studios' greater than Encinitas or Venice Beach, California. What has caught my attention though is the large number of oddly placed cosmetic dental clinics dotting the small dirt roads. They're all promising whiter teeth, sterile treatments and a beautiful smile. I think I'll stick to flossing, thank you very much.
Ride Strong from an unusually hot and humid Varkala, Kerala, India!
