Intimidation, Part Seven: The End?

Whew.. almost done. After this post, the memories of 5 October- 29 October will be forever preserved, or at least until the Internet disappears. You never know.

Our last stop was Varkala, a touristy but supposedly beautiful stretch of beach south of Aleppy. Our plans after Kanyakumari were open-ended, and after the chaos of the previous three weeks it didn't take much convincing for us to decide to lie on the beach for the last three days. Since Gemma and Zach had gone ahead, our hotel was already reserved and all we had to do was show up.

We arrived at the Dream Shore Resort, driving up through palm trees to a immaculately painted, deluxe-looking hotel set on the edge of a cliff overlooking the ocean. With our budget of Rs. 200 per night flashing warning signs in my brain, we agreed to look at the room. Our philosophy for hotels was basically "the cheaper the better, as long as the cockroach-girl ratio didn't exceed 10 to 1. However, the low price of the room was only the first of many pleasant surprised we'd receive in Varkala.

After checking in, I walked up to the cliff's edge. From the hotel, it looked as though we were the only people around for miles. When I reached the edge of the cliff, I looked to my left and was shocked to see an endless line of restaurants and stores advertising Mexican food, American breakfasts, real coffee, cheap necklaces, and everything in between. To my right was nothing but pristine black sand and endless ocean. Awww, yeah.

The next three days were a blur of excellent shopping, lying on the beach, reading in a hammock, getting pounded by huge waves, dancing the night away, and good American food (don't get me wrong; I love Indian food as much as the next person. But we all know how I feel about pasta and bean burritos). Every so often I'd look around and ask myself how the heck this had happened. I know that what we were seeing was a tourist-censored, overly clean and artificial version of South India. But Varkala really gave a new meaning to the concept of "vacation." There was a different pace of life here. Nobody was in a hurry about anything, which definitely included the restaurant staff. Anywhere else, I would've been agitated about a two-hour-long dinner, but I couldn't object to lingering over dessert while looking at the ocean.

Our last day, I decided to glue myself to the beach. I read in the sun and fell asleep until a giant wave swamped me, sending my book flying and solicited a giant, comical squeak from yours truly. Clouds had descended on the beach while I slept, and I could feel a storm brewing. Most of the other tourists had left for more sheltered quarters, and after a few minutes I was the only one left. The ocean turned the indescribable pre-storm color that I love so much, and I walked out into the water just as the rain started to fall. It felt like a bookend to the Om room and the way that I'd felt... so alive and awake and me. Varkala had come in like an impossible illusion and come out with beautiful meaning. Such is India, I suppose.

Love,
Sarah!

iPod: "Goodbye, Goodnight," Mae