the beach

We've done it now. We've officially found the beach that is going to make it very hard to ever live through a winter again. Next year when I am freezing in whatever part of the grad school map I have plotted out for myself, this is all going to seem like dream material. Last Monday we were on a houseboat in the Keralan backwaters, splurging on a cruise to celebrate Nick's birthday. We were outnumbered by the staff: 3 boatmen to 2 American kids (that would be us). We were fed fresh Keralan food, taken to a small island full of goats, birds, and coconuts, and somewhat disappointedly docked at shore before the sun went down. Nonetheless, there were Kingfishers all around and we got to hang out with Mr. Madhu, the Captain of the Boat.

The Boat

The next morning, luxury was abruptly stopped when we were dropped off at shore and left right back in the middle of budget traveler land. As everyone tried to sell us a backwaters tour ("we just took one, thank you very much"), we made our way to the bus station in Allepy, to head towards a beach we heard about from Wilson, our new Guest House owner friend in Fort Kochin. "Go to Varkala, it is very beautiful" he insisted. We walked around the bus station, I deflected the matrimonial eye from several young Indian men, we sweated in the humidity like we have never sweated before. Finally a bus is boarded and we're on our way.

Maybe it was because we were so hot, maybe it was the doubt at the promise of a great beach that comes with a lot of traveling, but this is actually it. The water is an amazing blue, the sunbaked Arabian sea providing the prefect wave, forceful yet not too pulling. The beach is backed by red cliffs and endless palm trees. We immediately found a room at a place on the beach; we are certainly benefiting from the lack of tourism brought on by the tsunami scare. Babu, our new proprietor, told us that business has been slow because people are afraid of the water. Bad for him, good for us, he said.

It's been a week now. At night the fishing nets floating out in the sea are little pinpricks of light against inky black water. All the restaurants display their fresh fish for you to choose before consuming (which I'm sure is very nice for people who like to eat fish - for me? Total nightmare. A lot of darting around tables of cut up fish staring at me, as the restaurant man tries to lure us in by yelling: Romantic fish!)

Really, it's so comfortable here, I don't know how we're going to leave. Fresh somosas on the beach for 10 rupees, diving into the blue water anytime I start to overheat (often), ending the day with a new release movie and fresh vegetables at any number of restaurants on the cliff.

Now, if everyone can come meet us, everything would be perfect. Perfect setting + fantastic people = paradise.