...hic!

I am, quite honestly, drunk. Now that's a first. It's clearly the fault of the nice barman at a bar/restaurant down at the beach, I have no idea what the name of either was but tomorrow I hope Ill be able to find it again. There is a local flavor of alcohol here called fenny. The spirit is quite nice, a little schnappsy but with a unique flair that somehow manages to engage every single taste bud on the tongue. The barman also makes a truly mean Long Island Ice Tea. It tastes far better than any I've had before, and the aftertaste is as round as polished lemon we agreed. Tomorrow he will make an even better one just for me. I will skip the local brew then, I think. Now, I am not completely smashed or anything, but far deeper under the influence of alcohol than I have ever been before. Walking in a straight line is a little tricky without my germanian guardian angel at my side and hand/eye coordination is less than optimal. I was still able to evict a rather large creepycrawly from our room and also able to find the master crane for the toilet when it started running over. Guess it could be worse, though I am staying completely our of traffic.

Anyway, I am getting ahead of myself. Yesterday I woke up by the rumbling of the engine coming to life. Well, I was awoken by my alarm quite a few times before that, but it is hardly the same. A quick tour of the bathroom later and we were seated in the forward dining lounge. Yesterday had somehow ended with Susanne ordering Indian breakfast (veg, not spicy) and I more or less chose "continental" (English) breakfast with egg. While northern Indian breakfast was nice, the southern food didn't sit right with me that early in the morning. The British one, generally consisting of toast and marmalade (and tea) always went down smoothly on the other hand. So, there I was, expecting a load of warm toast and some marmalade. And maybe some butter. And a boiled egg or two.

What I got, was bar none the best meal I have ever had the joy of experiencing in my entire life. While there was little to note about the decrusted, slightly soggy toasts in the tupperware box or the nondescript butter served with it, the omelet was exquisite. A few millimeters thick and containing pieces of paprika and onion, it could easily have been confused with just any other omelet. This one, on the other hand, was pure pleasure. The magic was clearly in the spices. I have no idea what it might have been, and I have little hope of experiencing it again - or sharing it. The cook was hardly able to speak even basic English, although he clearly understood my praise of the food.

After my unexpected encounter with the omelet we went up to the observation deck to enjoy the cruise back towards the dock. Taking a far shorter route this time, I would guesstimate that we were under way for about an hour before arriving. It is amazing how these people are able to navigate these mazes of canals and waterways without any form of radio or navigational equipment aboard. As we were about to disembark I noticed the engine control panel in the "kitchen" (pentry, I guess it should be referred to as, but in all honesty, the superstructure was internally built like a house, not a boat). The small panel consisted of an ampere-meter steam gauge, an ignition key and a few warning/information lights without any description. Arriving after many of the others, they wedged our floating hut in between some other slugs laying tied up already and we walked through another boat and then onto dry land. The end of a journey.

We were unsurprised to find that there were no driver or car waiting for us, but the owner of the house boat quickly arranged transport for us back to Kochi and to the train station were were scheduled to depart from. Shortly after, a Mahindra-produced Renault sedan was packed up with our things and we were on our way. It was the first time we had been installed in a turbo-powered car on our trip so far, but as I finally had a working seat belt available to me I took it all in stride. Still, the general public here should not have access to turbos. I must say the license built frenchie handled more like a European car than anything I've been in so far, and the drive was quite pleasant.

At the train station we had a bit of a wait ahead of us, seeing as we were there roughly two hours early, but time passed somehow. I was mostly engaged with my latest book, Crescent Dawn, the latest in the Dirk Pitt/NUMA line (think I mentioned it earlier). The train arrived on time and we found our widely separated seats, one in each of the two cabins in the train wagon. The trains here are as wide as the typical west/north European train, but here they manage to fit two times three seats in the width. And people say that Ryanair seats are cramped.. While I had been assigned an aisle seat the couple sitting next to me diverted me to the window seat, it turned out that they were moving around a lot, not sure why.

I was still full from my Omelet far into the afternoon, when I finally decided to get some more to eat. Two alufoil

During the entire train trip - when not eating, anyway - I was completely lost in my book. I finished the last page of the 100th and final chapter just in time to pack up and prepare for disembarking. There were a few unscheduled stations before ours, Magdoan or so, came into view. I got the honor of unlocking the door as I was a little in the way where I stood with backpack, shoulder pack and Sues bag, and hit the platform just as the train came to a stop.

We were positively surprised to find someone standing there with a poster saying "shafer vom stein" on it and we were soon on our way. This time in a Tata sedan of sorts, also this one turbocharged. It was the first car I have found to have its various states on the ignition key lock brightly back lit, a cool feature. Nature here was, during the drive anyway, quite similar to Norway. Large green trees and little traffic. The only major difference, other than the traffic still coming from the wrong side, was the yellow sand covering the ditches and the brightly colored reflective tapes everywhere guiding us through each corner like a projected flight path on a holographic heads up display in a science fiction movie. The drive itself generally reminded me of "Getaway in Stockholm", while never actually eliciting any sounds from the tires as we went into each corner at an invigorating pace. Some of the sense of speed must have been coming from the construction of the vehicle, as we never actually passed 120, one of the highest velocity markings on the speedometer. I must admit that I was a little nervous about the "beach huts" they had booked us in at as we turned into a road hardly better than a logging path for quite some time. Then, suddenly, we were out on a normal road again.

Shortly after, we arrived into a tiny village. It was quite like the other industrialised Indian roadside settlements we had seen so far except that it was all closed and dark. No wonder, as the clock was fast approaching 3 at night. We were both looking forward to dropping out baggage in our little hut on the beach and catch as much shut-eye as possible.

The car stopped outside a small building with the name "Cupid's Heaven" painted outside and we were given a tiny room with a 'romantic' red light bulb, a window into the reception and a wet bathroom not large enough to change opinions; why it had not yet gotten a vibrating bed installed remains a mystery. Neither of us were amused. While I was too tired to make any fuzz out of it until the morning, Susanne let them know that this was not a beach hut, and she wanted a beach hut. We were told that they did not have any, and got something about security concerns. We did fall asleep in our "romantic little love-nest" (that should be read with sarcasm seeping out of it like fat out of a cheap hamburger at a truck stop) and were quite awake and ready for action around 10 the next morning.

First we reopened the issue of the lacking beach-huttyness of our current lodgings. Calls to the travel agency and words with the manager did not get us any closer to a beach hut, but we were explained that there had been some security issues on some other beach earlier and therefore we had been booked in at a hotel (or, as I refer to it, untel) without anyone asking us. We were promised the best room they had come night though. We then sorted laundry, finally. Once that was done, we headed towards the beach which turned out to be just 50 meters or so from the back of our untel. Oh, by the way, while quickly exploring the untel before we left, we found that the room opposite of ours was actually a tattoo parlor.

The beach was nice. The deserted emptyness I experienced when arriving here last night was gone, and there was a bar or a collection of beach huts as far as the eye could see along the beach in each direction. There were some tourists here, but the beach was not packed. There are also cows and dogs roaming the beaches here. First time there we turned right and after walking a bit we ended up in a bar/restaurant under a nice palm-leaf roof. I ended up trying the Chicken Masala, while Susanne went for, I think, an Aloo Kofta. I also killed a few glass bottles of 7UP, 200ml each. Once breakfast was done, we had heard word that the bar owner would have a beach hut available from tomorrow that we could have, so we walked to take a look at it. It was on the beachfront and looked cozy from the outside, tomorrow at 12 we will check out the interior and it just might be that we get our Goan beach hut holiday after all.

Back in our untel we were told that we couldn't switch rooms yet, as the person supposed to be checking out today was drunk and still asleep. We changed for more beachweary outfits and I broke out my Source Gobi trekking sandals. Susanne nearly had a fit when I explained to her my intentions of wearing them with socks, I just cannot wear them barefoot for several reasons. Must be an NT thing, socks and sandals...

We then hit the streets again, walking south until we ran out of village and shops (Susanne trying on various pants and other clothes along the way, myself picking up the entire stock of Orbit chewing gum as I was out again). We also passed a nice church, but were hardly dressed for entering it. We then turned towards the beach and followed it south as far as it went. It ended in a rather rocky area that demanded a little active jumping and climbing before finally reaching a halt at a series of very large boulders stacked into the sea. Susanne sat down to soak up some sun while I went on a more advanced freeclimbing excursion to reach the stone furthest out. The sandals turned out to be quite good for climbing, but my cozy/pyjama pants are not barnacle proof and had a few extra holes by the time I was back with Susanne.

We walked north until we saw the first and best restaurant. Before the restaurants and beach-huts started, there were several expedition-grade vehicles parked and rigged for camping, among them a very nice 6x6 MAN military-style carrier with all kinds of kit mounted to it.

The restaurant, Cuba ("Where...time takes a break!"), was a welcome haven from the sun and we could rehydrate a little again. Simple rehydration turned to relaxation pur and after several hours, multiple glass bottles of coke, various fruit juices, and a bottle of mineral water; a very nice Mexican dish, yummy fries and a vanilla ice cream (made using packaged drinking water) with chocolate sauce for me and a vegeburger and salad for Susanne we finally managed to break free of the senseless gluttony and lazying around in the shadow of our roofed and raised little terrace and slowly move back home to the untel. While sitting there, it was interesting to note that the cows had learned from the dogs and were begging at the food tables standing down at the beach. One cow got a little too enthusiastic and pushed the patron clean off of his sunbed while requesting the remains of his food. Cows are too big to do dog-things.

First we passed by the beach hut we might take tomorrow to see how the front looked as well. Still looking good to us!

Back at our untel we claimed our laundry (less than Rs400) and were informed that we could not have the better room tonight as the drunk person was STILL sleeping, but after a few to-and-froms they managed to dig up a better room than the one we had. Now it is next door to the tattoo parlor and the window is facing out to the roofed bar(could order drinks directly through the window); the bathroom again wet. It is still a huge upgrade from what we had. The music from the bar was also a bonus here, playing western pop music. Cleaning up a little (I am still trying to get used to the lack of warm water) and getting into new clothes, and rigging up a clothes line for my still we clothes as Susanne jumped into the street to secure some thread so we could rig our mosquito netting later, we were ready for town again.

Susanne still wanted some comfortable loose-fitting pants, and coming past one shop she saw something that piqued her interest. As always, the store owner was quickly with us ready to explain everything we might need to know to choose his establishment as the place to leave a few rupees. To my great surprise, when Susanne declined his offers, he merely said "Sorry for the interruption" and vanished back into the shop. Amazing, completely unexpected after 2 weeks in Rajasthan. We also ventured inside the shop as Susanne was scouring it for legwear without interruption by the shopkeeper. I was treated to a chair and was soon in conversation with the man. Making a long clothes-trying-session short, we talked about anything from Kashmiri houseboats to world religions. He was a Muslim, but first of all a human being as he said, and he was saddened by all the hate and conflict among the various people and their religions. If more people were like him, I think the world would definitely be a much more peaceful place to live. Having myself had little contact with Islam, it was very nice to meet a non-extremist side of the faith. Susanne ended on two loose and cozy pants and we both left the shop quite spirited. We again headed down towards the beach for dinner and a few drinks and quickly found a nice place with good music and lights in many colors. Taking a seat as close to the water as possible (not that we could see much, the sun had set while we were getting ready earlier), a very friendly waiter took our orders.

Starting off with coke and mineral water for me and a lemon soda for Susanne, we took our time deciding on what to eat. I ended up with ordering a "special steak" with red wine sauce and mushrooms served with boiled vegetables and fried onions, and Susanne went with an Indian dish that was new to her and vegan. I cannot remember the name though. Food arrived after some time. It was truly well made, both hers and mine. After eating I was not full, but satisfied. Susanne being tired from her food and too full, opted not to get anything more to drink. I had to try the local spirit of course, and as they had my long time favorite drink - LIIT - I had to try that as well. That pretty much leads to the beginning of this entry. By now any disabling effects of the alcohol is gone and I am looking forward to getting some sleep. Hoping Ill be able to get up around 9, I should still be able to get almost 8 hours of sleep tonight. Maybe we get beach-hutted tomorrow?