Monday 7 March 2016

Ants, Mollywood and Varkala: India's Deep South Part 13

A Low Stress Day Exploring a Small Part of the Kerala Coast

Insect Attack

Kerala
India

I awoke in the night with a sharp pain in my thigh. I ignored it and tried to go back to sleep; I may even have been successful for a while, but the pain returned and it was in several other places as well. I got up and went into the next room not to disturb Lynne - you can do this when you have been upgraded to a two-room cottage.

Minutes later Lynne was asking where I had got to. I went back in, turned on the light and discovered that my side of the bed was seething with ants – very small but with large teeth - and they were now beginning to invade Lynne's side. From 4.15 to 4.30 I stood and scratched while Lynne set about mass insecticide, boiling a kettle and pouring the contents into the crack they were emerging from. Being awake at this hour is not unusual for me and an ant attack was more interesting than insomnia.

The scene of the attack
It is now 04.38 and the ants are all dead

A message on our arrival yesterday had informed us that our early morning elephant ride had been cancelled - the Maha Shivaratri (Great Night of Shiva) festival had commandeered all available beasts. Never mind, after the night’s events we were happy to rise at a reasonable hour and enjoy a leisurely breakfast. Omelette and parathas (Lynne) or idlis and chutney (me) were followed by fresh fruit. Breakfasts on this trip had offered surprisingly little pineapple thus far; this morning there was plenty of it, fresh, sweet and luscious.

A bright, fresh clean, Kerala morning

The Death of Kalabhavan Mani and an Unforgettable Newspaper Headline

We met Thomas outside at 9.00. Over lunch the previous day we had been talking about Malayalam language cinema and today he greeted us with the information that Kalabhavan Mani, one of ‘Mollywood’s’ biggest stars had died aged 45 under suspicious circumstances.[update April 2017: Police are still investigating whether he died of alcoholism or was poisoned] It was a lead story in the Deccan Chronicle under the unforgettable headline 'Mani Dies, Cops Smell Foul'.

Mani dies, cops smell foul
The front page of the Deccan Chronicle 07/03/16

To be fair to the Deccan Chronicle, price 3rps (3p), it is a serious newspaper. It covers local, national and fair amount of international news in a straightforward manner and its editorial and columns are generally moderate and thoughtful – the same cannot be said of much of the British press. Today’s reported crimes included a horrific 'honour killing' and the story of some Hindu youths violently attacking the congregation of a Christian church during a service. There is nothing funny about either story, but the second finished with another gem of Indian English: 'Superintendent Neeraj Chandrakarsa said..."efforts are on to nab the miscreants."

Varkala Beach

Not only were the elephants off, Thomas said, but so too was the coir factory visit (closed for the festival) and the cashew processing plant (on strike for the last three weeks - well, this is Kerala.) Our day seemed to have crashed and burned, but Thomas suggested we visit Varkala Beach, some fifteen kilometres away.

The drive was short, despite the hold-up at a level crossing.

Level crossing on the way to Varkala

North Helipad Cliff Road

Varkala Beach car park has a large H marked on it after a VIP visit some years ago. I doubt it has seen a helicopter since, but the cliff top road - the only cliff on the South Kerala coast - is known as North Helipad Cliff Road.

Varkala is just south of Kollam, but too close to mark separately on a map this size

The road was lined with cafés, restaurants and shops, the clientele mostly European and the menus more Italian than Indian, though one restaurant was called 'Taste of Tibet'. Tibet is a wonderful place, and we thoroughly enjoyed our 2005 visit but the air is thin and the food is, well, regrettable. Yak butter, with its distinctive flavour of decay is unavoidable it turns up in your tea and also in tsampa, the national staple where it is pounded with roasted barley. The result tastes like rancid sawdust, but Tibetans nibble it constantly. I deplore the officially supported Chinese migration that has made Tibetans a minority in their own capital city, but if it had not been for their restaurants we would have gone hungry - though I should also give an honourable mention to Lhasa's many Nepalese restaurants, I enjoy a yak curry. Having learned to avoid Tibetan restaurants in Tibet, the chances of us choosing one in India were vanishingly small.

We dropped into a shop and after a fierce but light-hearted bargaining session bought a couple of table cloths and two shirts. The shopkeeper accused me of taking the food from the mouths of his children, but he had a big smile on his face, so I took it as a compliment for trying, being well aware that he knew the price he had paid for the merchandise and I did not. No doubt he made a handsome profit and we parted the best of friends.

The area is a pleasant tourist trap overlooking a clean beach lapped by the warm waters of the Arabian Gulf. It is a mini Goa, but it is not really India so we had a coffee and drove on to Varkala town.

Varkala Beach

Papanasam Beach

North Varkala is full of European holidaymakers but the town at the south end is full of pilgrims. People flock to the (allegedly) 2,000 year old temple (with limited access to non-Hindus) for a final blessing of the ashes of their late relatives. The activity continues on Papanasam Beach where a line of priests have set up sand altars to commemorate those whose ashes are heading for the big blue yonder.

Priests on the beach, Varkala

Behind them the beach is busy; there were no foreign tourists, but a long, thin, throng lined the water’s edge, not quite bathing, the women, as usual inching into the water fully clothed.

A long dress might not be ideal for paddling, Varkala Beach

To add a little diversity we joined them for a paddle.

Lynne on Varkala Beach

Following Jackfruit to lunch

Leaving Varkala we drove north towards (I think) Parippally, briefly following a truck full of jackfruit. Though little is grown commercially, the huge fruits are abundant, hanging from trees beside the road, in gardens and in courtyards. The truck driver will pay the tree's ownner a few rupees, take away the fruits and distributes them to local markets. Cheap and underrated (jackfruit rarely makes it to a hotel breakfast buffet) it splits open to reveal rows of large seeds surrounded by bright yellow pulpy jackets, the sweet pulp tasting exactly like the synthetic banana flavour of the ice-lollies of my youth.

Following the jackfruit through Kerala

We passed through a town (though which town, I do not know)….

A town in southern Kerala. What town? Dunno

Beyond the town Thomas selected a restaurant for lunch. It looked unimpressive, but Thomas’ track record is good so we followed willingly. On his advice we ordered a tuna-like fish curry, an unspecified fried fish and masala crusted pearl spot. The pearl spot (officially Green Chromide) is a small oval fish with a distinctive circular spot at the base of the pectoral fin. It thrives in the brackish conditions of the Kerala Backwaters and in 2010 was declared Kerala’s ‘State Fish’. Highly regarded but too expensive for many locals they are frequently served to tourists – and we should be grateful for our good fortune.

Lynne, Thomas and a pearl spot at lunch

Accompaniments included cabbage with coconut, pickles, sambar, poppadums and drumsticks. Drumsticks are long (drumstick shaped!) pods which can be seen hanging from trees everywhere. The jelly-like pulp has to be scraped from the inedible pods which are invariable served split. The locals like them, but I have never quite seen the point.

Lunch over there was little else to do but return to our hotel and the sybaritic pleasures of a lakeside resort.

This post started (almost) with the view across the lake from the back of our bungalow. It finishes with the view from the front.

We paused in reception to inform them, a touch belatedly, of last night’s ant antics. I do not know exactly what I expected, perhaps an apology and the immediate dispatch of a fumigating minion, but we received a half smile and a jar of insect repellent. I doubt that was four-star service, but no matter, Lynne’s boiling water had already done the trick.

Sunday 6 March 2016

Thiruvananthapuram (Formerly Trivandrum): India's Deep South Part 12

North Along the Coast from Tamil Nadu to the Capital of Kerala and Beyond

Route 66 from Kanyakumari to Trivandrum (Thiruvananthapuram)

Tamil Nadu
India

(Well it winds from Chicago Kanyakumari to LA Bombay
More than one thousand miles all the way)

After breakfast we checked out and drove north, but then everywhere in India is north of Kanyakumari. We had arrived on NH-44 which heads due north and 3,500km later reaches Srinagar in Kashmir, we left on NH-66 which veers slightly west of north hugging the coast all the way to Mumbai.

Sunday has no significance to Muslims and Hindus, but the British legacy includes a respect for The Weekend which transcends little matters like religion. Tour buses packed with day-trippers were already rolling into town.

But Sunday is significant to Christians, and Thomas, a devout Christian himself, was keen to point out the churches as we passed. Some were full to overflowing with latecomers clustering round the door.

>
Church in southern Tamil Nadu

Tomorrow would be Maha Shivaratri (Great Night of Shiva) and in preparation for the festival gods as well as tourists were on the move...

Gods on the move

…and so were their vehicles. Below, Nandi the vehicle of Shiva hitches a ride on a more worldly conveyance.

Vehicle on a vehicle, Tamil Nadu
Kerala

Back Into Kerala

We left Tamil Nadu and entered Kerala, reaching Trivandrum around ten o’clock where we were reunited with Mr Fussy who had been so much fun yesterday.

Part 12: Kanyakumari to Kollam (almost)

The Horse Palace, Trivandrum (Thiruvananthapuram)

Trivandrum is now officially called Thiruvananthapuram, but Thiruvananthapuram does not roll of the tongue so nicely (or at all) and is far too long to write, so I am sticking with Trivandrum. With a population of just under 1 million Trivandrum is the capital of Kerala and was once the capital of the Kingdom of Travancore, so appropriately enough, we started at the Maharajah’s palace.

Weird Bananas

The palace is approached past a banana plantation, which is hardly remarkable in southern India except that….

To the Horse Palace around a banana plantation, Trivandrum

…the bananas are red, which looks strange though I am assured they taste just like regular bananas. We bought and ate some weird bananas, including red ones, in rural Fujian (SE China) in 2017.

Red bananas, Horse Palace, Trivandrum

Maharajah Swathi Thirunal Ramavara​, His Rule, His Palace and His Successors.

This was the palace of Maharajah Swathi Thirunal Ramavara who reigned over the Kingdom of Travancore from birth to his death in 1846, taking over as ruler from his aunt in 1829 at the age of 16. This palace was built in the 1840s while yesterday we visited the 18th century palace of his predecessors at Padmanabhapuram. Maybe two very similar palaces in two days was one too many.

Swathi Thirunal, Horse Palace, Trivandrum

Travancore was lucky with its kings, who governed well and made it the wealthiest of India’s ‘Princely States'. When the British left in 1947 elements within the government favoured an independent Travancore but after a year of unrest and, with some reluctance, Travancore joined the Indian Union in 1948 and merged with the Kingdom of Cochin immediately to the north to form the Indian State of Kochi-Travancore. There is still a King of Travancore, though today it is a courtesy title only. The 1956 reorganisation of Indian States gave precedence to language. The Malayalam speaking north of Travancore, Kochi and some territory further up the coast  formed the new State of Kerala while the Tamil speaking Kanyakumari district joined Tamil Nadu.

Kuthira Malika - The Horse Palace - Trivandrum

A dozen times Mr Fussy told us the palace was known as Kuthira Malika (‘Horse Palace’), and every time he felt the need to explain why – an explanation required only by the terminally unobservant.

Tell me again why its called the 'Horse Palace'

He showed us the ladies’ quarters and bathing pools for their ‘gossips and chitchats’ (Lynne looked daggers) but fortunately soon handed over to a palace guide. We went round with a group, the guide speaking first in Malayalam for everyone else and then she repeated it for us in faultless English – far better than Mr Fussy’s though he was a qualified English speaking guide.

We liked the carved wooden ceilings and dark panelled walls – the small libraries were particularly lovely – but found the Belgian chandeliers, the thrones of ivory and Bohemian glass and multitude of Chinese vases rather over the top.

Guest Quarters, Horse Palace, Trivandrum

As at Padmanabhapuram, the coolness of the interior was striking. The low eaves and slatted windows were the same but here the floors were made from pounded charcoal, limestone and egg white, so they were smooth and cool to the touch (like everybody else we went round in bare feet so can testify to its effectiveness).

Swathi Thirunal was generally a wise and always a conscientious ruler and the stress, along with the deaths of his mother, wife and three children may have contributed to his demise at the age of 39. Afterwards the palace was neglected but the present king has recently had it restored and opened it to the public to pay for that restoration – I suggest he sells some of those Chinese vases.

Padmanabha Temple, Trivandrum (Thiruvananthapuram)

Next to the palace is Padmanabha Temple, Trivandrum’s main Hindu temple. The site has reputedly been used for worship for 5,000 years, but the cream painted gopura is 16th century, so relatively new then. Like Suchindram Temple, men are required to remove their shirts, but unlike Suchindram, non-Hindus are not permitted to enter. This is often the case in Kerala, but rare in Tamil Nadu

Padmanabha Temple, Trivandrum

This is as close as we were allowed, so I have no idea what is inside (though I expect it is not that different from a hundred other such temples).

Padmanabha Temple, Trivandrum - as close as non-Hindus can get

The Napier Museum and Other Landmarks, Trivandrum (Thiruvananthapuram)

Moving on we had a drive-by tour of some of Trivandrum’s most important buildings including The Kerala State Parliament…

The Kerala Parliament, Trivandrum
A rather ugly rectangular building with a traditional Kerala roof - not that the photo shows any of that!

…. and the State Secretariat where the civil service carry out the decisions of politicians….

Kerala State Secretariat, Trivandrum

…and halted at the Napier Museum, approaching it through a well maintained and colourful garden.

The Napier Museum garden, Trivandrum

The same adjectives could be applied to the building which was designed by Robert Chisholm, consulting architect to the Madras Government, whose work had been Renaissance or Gothic Revival before he became a pioneer of the Indo-Saracenic style. Opened in 1880 and named after Lord Napier, Governor of Madras 1866-72, the museum is Indo-Saracenic but there are clear nods towards Gothic while the roof shows local Keralan influence. It is often described as a ‘masterpiece’ but what I saw was a nerve-jangling clash of styles.

Napier Museum, Trivandrum

The collection is worth looking at and includes a temple chariot, ivory carvings, bronze castings of Shiva and other gods and various items of historical and archaeological interest. There is also an art gallery, but we gave that a miss. Inside the building works as a museum, and by the end I was warming to it, but more in the ‘so bad it’s good’ sense than as an architectural triumph.

The Napier Museum, Trivandrum
(I think it is worth a look from the other side)

Leaving the museum we drove around some more, gawping through the car window at Kerala’s State Central Library. Founded in 1829 during the reign of King Swathi Thirunal, the library’s present building - also hailed as an architectural masterpiece - was constructed in 1900 to commemorate Queen Victoria’s Diamond Jubilee.

Kerala State Central Library, Trivandrum

And at St Joseph’s Roman Catholic Cathedral, built in 1873 and not the only church in Trivandrum to have a Hindu-style ‘god pole’ surmounted by a cross outside the door…

St Joseph's RC Cathedral, Trivandrum

...and also at the Palayam Juma Mosque, the most important mosque in Trivandrum. The current version dates from 1960 but the first mosque on this site was built for the British Indian 2nd Regiment in 1813.

Palayam Juma Mosque, Trivandrum

We dropped off Mr Fussy, drove a little further north on NH 66 (Trivandrum city looked oh so pretty) and stopped for lunch. Thomas chose a clean, modern roadside restaurant – he likes to remind us occasionally that India, for all its old palaces and temples (and occasional poverty and squalor) is modern, dynamic and forward looking. Designed to appeal to the growing and aspirant Indian middle class Red Salt had all the charm of a motorway service station – but we could not fault the vegetarian thalis.

The Fragrant Nature Resort, Kollam

After more driving we entered Kollam district but never reached the city, turning off NH 66 and bumbling along minor roads to the Fragrant Nature Resort beside Paravur Lake which would be the estuary of the Ithikkara River had a sandbar not turned it into a lagoon.

After checking in we were taken on a lengthy walk along the lakeside and past the Sunset Bar before finally reaching a comfortable semi-detached bungalow with bedroom, sitting room and balcony - an upgrade on the accommodation we had booked.

Our bungalow, Fragrant Nature, Kollam

Opening our mini bar we found two bottles of Kingfisher beer, suggesting Kerala’s prohibition was, happily, not absolute.

Leaving them there we strolled back to the Sunset Bar. Our request for gin was refused [update: spirits are available only in 5-star hotels (and the logic behind that?) and Fragrant Nature, sadly, has merely 4]. Our request for Kingfisher resulted in a smile and two bottles of beer.

A beer at the Sunset Bar, Fragrant Nature

We watched a couple of fishermen on the lake…

Fishermen on Lake Paravur, Fragrant Nature, Kollam

…as the sun descended. It set a just round the corner so the bar did not quite live up to its name, but why quibble?

The sun sets just round the corner, Fragrant Nature, Kollam

We dined at the hotel, there was no other option, but the curried squid, mushroom masala and chapattis were just what we wanted.

Later we retired to a bed protected by a towel monster, but was it protection enough?….

Towel Monster, Fragrant Nature, Kollam

Saturday 5 March 2016

Kanyakumari and the Deep South's Deep South: India's Deep South Part 11

Kanyakumari, Suchindram, Padmanabhapuram and Nagarcoil

Beyond the End of India: The Vivekananda Rock Memorial, Kanyakumari

Tamil Nadu
India

Kanyakumari, at the very tip of the Indian subcontinent, is a seaside resort, but, as so often in India, it is also a place of pilgrimage. It had been busy yesterday, but today was Saturday and from early morning the pilgrims/day trippers poured in. They arrived in their thousands from the cities up the coast, Nagercoil, Thiruvananthapuram (formerly Trivandrum), Kollam and even further afield, the line of parked coaches stretching from the town centre to our hotel and far beyond.

Two rocky islets lie 500m off the coast. On the western island is an outsize statue of Thiravalluvar a Tamil poet of the 2nd century BC (give or take a hundred years). Unveiled on the first day of the present millennium, it has provoked some controversy; our local guide expressed admiration for Thiravalluvar but said that he, and many others, had preferred the island in its natural rocky state.

The two rocky islets off the coast at Kanyakumari

Catching the Ferry

The Vivekananda Rock Memorial on the eastern island is an irresistible attraction to the idly curious (us) and Hindu pilgrims (everybody else) alike. Our local guide (let’s call him Mr Fussy) turned up bright and early, but even so we reached the dock to find the queue for the ferry was already formidable. We joined the end and Mr Fussy tutted and fretted as he tried to calculate how many boat-loads were ahead of us.

Making a decision, he marched us out of the queue, round the barriers and approached the ticket office from the other side. There was no one at the first class ticket window, which was hardly surprising as the fare was 189 Rupees. I was appalled, but 189Rps is around £2, so maybe I was looking at it through Indian eyes.

Our first class ticket took us straight out onto the quay at the head of a queue of people with second class tickets. We had just missed one boat, but another arrived as the first left and the passengers poured off, dumping their life jackets in a pile on the quay. We and the couple of hundred behind us picked up a jacket each and filed onto the boat. Our first class tickets entitled us to sit by the door, so once everybody had pushed past us and crammed themselves into the interior we were the ones with the cooling sea breeze and the knowledge that, in the event of a disaster, we alone had a sporting chance of survival.

One ferry leaves as the next one arrives, Kanyakumari

The trip was short and disaster free. We were at the front of the queue as the boat docked and the gangplank was lowered, but the urgency of pilgrimage is such that we were beaten to dry land by half a dozen eager men in saffron robes.

We leave the ferry while the next boatload queues to board, Vivekananda Rock, Kanyakumari

Vivekananda and his Memorial Rock

The Vivekananda Rock Memorial was built in 1974, though it had been planned since 1962, the centenary of the birth of Narendranath Datta in Calcutta. Datta studied religion and philosophy, both eastern and western, took monastic vows and between 1888 and 1893 travelled the length and breadth of India, reaching Kanyakumari in December 1892. Swimming out to the rock (he could not afford to hire a boat), he meditated for three days and achieved enlightenment.

Now calling himself Swami Vivekananda (The Bliss of Discerning Wisdom) he spent the next ten years on lecture tours around India, Europe, America and Japan meeting many of the great thinkers of the time. He died of a brain haemorrhage in 1902 aged just 39.

Swami Vivekananda, July 1899 (thank you Wikipedia)

Building the memorial was controversial. The largely Christian local fisherman, who called the rock St Xavier’s Island, objected to the idea and planted a large cross. An enquiry was held.

Hindus believe that on this rock the young Devi Kanya (an avatar of Pavarti) waited overnight for the Lord Shiva to come and make her his bride. Unfortunately Bana, the local ruler, had felt free to ‘wreak havoc on all the world’ since Lord Brahma told him he could only die at the hand of an adolescent virgin. Believing that Devi Kanya was that adolescent, the locals plotted to keep her a vrgin. Making their cocks crow early they convinced Lord Shiva that he was too late for his wedding and with a heavy heart the wedding procession turned and went home.

The Vivekananda Memorial Hall, Kanyakumari

Devi Kanya was distraught, but survived to become the goddess who removes the rigidity of our minds. In the fullness of time she did kill Bana and, I suppose, can be comforted by the thought that both as Meenakshi (in Madurai) and as Parvati herself (in Kanchipuram) she did marry Lord Shiva. Hinduism is not simple! The story and the status of Swami Vivekananda were enough to persuade the authorities that the memorial should be built.

Us and the statue of Thiravalluvar on the adjacent island, Kanyakumari
Mr Fussy thought it important to photograph us with every available background

Apart from the Memorial Hall and another for meditation there are few facilities, so after a good look round we returned to the mainland.

Facilities, Vivekananda Rock

Kanyakumari and the 2004 Tsunami

The 2004 Boxing Day Tsunami swept round, and to a certain extent over the rock, but the 500 people marooned were later helicoptered to safety. A 15 minute You Tube video shows the water being sucked back out of the harbour, first leaving the fishing boats high and dry and then the ferries until it is almost possible to walk to Vivekananda Rock. At first the fisherman, who cannot see what is happening, are reluctant to leave their boats, but by the time the water sweeps back they have gone. 250 died in Kanyakumari district; though terrible, that was few compared with the worst hit locations.

Kanyakumari harbour which was emptied of water immediately before the Tsunami struck
The fishermen are largely Christian and their church is on the headland behind.

Suchindram and its Temple

It was still mid-morning so we had plenty of time to head north to Suchindram where we stopped to see the 17th century temple.

Many religious buildings have a dress code. Usually they demand that women cover more than really necessary citing their own particular idiosyncratic definition of 'modesty'. Conversely the 'sky-clad' Jains and some northern fakirs believe that ‘naked we were born so naked we should approach God’ – though this applies only to men.

Suchindram Temple

Suchindram Temple is not so extreme, but they do believe that men should approach God wearing only a dhoti (though a lunghi or trousers were acceptable) so shirts must come off. Cameras are banned inside the temple so there are no pictures of my pale and flabby frame, a slab of lard floating in a rich brown Tamil gravy.

It is an unusual temple starting with Shiva and finishing with Ganesh (most are the other way round) and has a rare shrine to the trinity of Brahma, Shiva and Vishnu. To aficionados of Hindu temples these are striking oddities, others may be nonplussed.

Padmanabhapuram Palace

Continuing north we passed through the city of Nagercoil before reaching the barely pronounceable Padmanabhapuram. The Kingdom of Travancore ruled what is now central and southern Kerala and the Kanyakumari district of Tamil Nadu from 1729 to 1949, at first independently but from the early 19th century as a Princely State subject to the British Empire. From 1729 to 1796 Padmanabhapuram was the capital of Travancore and we had come to see the royal palace.


Padmanabhapuram Palace entrance

Most of the current buildings were constructed by the first King of Travancore around 1750 though some are two hundred years older. Although it was Saturday the palace was hosting a number of school parties, some of them waiting in the courtyard. All in immaculate uniform, we remarked, not for the first time, how exceptionally smart groups of Indian schoolchildren always look.

School parties wait in the courtyard, Padmanabhapuram Palace

As we toured the complex, Mr Fussy continually reminded us of the steepness of the stairs or slipperiness of the polished surfaces as though stairs and polish were unknown to us.

Padmanabhapuram Palace

We saw the King’s Council chamber,...

King's Council Chamber, Padmanabhapuram Palace

...the Ceremonial Hall where over a thousand guests could be entertained at once,...

Ceremonial Hall, Padmanabhapuram Palace
If it wasn't for those cross beams it would make a good indoor cricket net

....various bedrooms, and much more besides.

Bedroom, Padmanabhapuram Palace

The most remarkable feature of the palace was the way traditional Keralan architecture (although we were still just in Tamil Nadu) keeps a building cool. The shady corridors with their slatted windows are unbelievably effective.

Shady corridors, Padmanabhapuram Palace

Lunch in Nagercoil

After the palace, Mr Fussy left by bus for his home in Trivandrum and we headed back towards Kanyakumari pausing in Nagercoil for lunch at a restaurant called Red Safron (sic). Thomas spotted it as we drove past and judged it suitable. It was very small; one table downstairs and a larger room upstairs with two tables. The menu was equally limited; we ordered chicken curry, chicken fry and chicken 65 (don’t ask). We over-ordered, but it was cheap and the quality, if not the variety, was surprisingly impressive.

Back in Kanyakumari, The Ghandi Mandapam and Iced Lemon Tea

Back in Kanyakumari, we let the heat abate before walking to the bazaar to purchase gifts to take home. En route we passed the Gandhi Memorial Mandapam. After his cremation Gandhi’s ashes were divided up and sent to locations throughout India. The country’s southernmost tip was an obvious choice and the Mandapam was built on the shore to house his ashes before scattering them in the sea.

The Gandhi Mandapam, Kanyakumari

Shopping done, we pausing for an iced lemon tea at a snack bar which also offered 'delicious pizzaas, depart from Napoli'.

Iced lemon tea, Kanyakumari

Sunset at Kanyakumari

At dusk Thomas drove us a little way up the Arabian Gulf to Sunset Point. Beyond the car park and Christian cemetery is a statute of ‘Mysterious Mother Mary’; a great place to stand to see the sun set a few minutes after everybody else.

'Mysterious Mother Mayr', Sunset Point, Kanyakumari

Vendors of things nobody really needed lurked along the shore. We bought a map of India, though there is nowhere easier to locate than Kanyakumari in the whole of the subcontinent.

The sun eases its way towards the horizon, Sunset Point, Kanyakumari

We waited as the sun eased itself towards the horizon and then, just like yesterday, watched it disappear into the haze before its journey was complete.

The sun disappears into the haze, Sunset Point, Kanyakumari

Back in the hotel we decided to eschew dinner after our excellent but filling lunch. Instead we reported to the hotel bar for a couple of bottles of Kingfisher beer and a portion of chips - hardly keeping it real, but comforting none the less.