Varkala

And so it goes we have moved on to another spectacular point in our journey, Varkala. A beach right down south of Kerala state. So pretty but vicious rips! Everyone who comes here was warning us about the rips, 'Don't swim where you can't stand, I had to be rescued and everything!' Of course I took this all on board but on arrival and actually swimming in the surf I realised something. Us Aussies have a profound respect and awareness of the ocean. We are brought up knowing that it is bloody dangerous. We would never just run in all Willy Nilly, and by willy nilly I'm thinking arms flailing and hysterical laughter to which the biggest culprits are Indians! Think Japenese tourists at Bondi and you have an idea of the elation that is Indians rolling about in the shallows of the ocean, screaming joyfully as the next two foot wave crashes over them. For the record, I love the Japenes tourists of Bondi. The way they are so excited to see the ocean, they roll up their pants and march into the water, and then run away when the tide comes in. And I love that there is always one token man who can't help himself, takes off his work suit and dives in with only his baggy undies on. It's the same here, but they would never, ever swim in just their undies. The few women I have seen swimming in India are all decked out in their saris, which seems to defeat the point of modesty in my book because how sexy is wet material that clings to your body to show off every curve? Go figure. As for the men they go in shirts, pants, turban and all. It makes me smile ever time.

Since arriving in India you get the usual requests for money and such, but the further south I go the more particular the requests get. One street urchin narrowed his requests quite well, he runs up from nowhere and says 'Chocolate!' A little confused he says, 'Me chocolate!' If your going to beg you might as well ask for what you want. Did anyone else know that Indian were avid coin collectors? I keep on getting asked for an Australian coins all the time. The first kid that asked me thought he hit pay dirt because I gave him Australian, Peruvian, English, Chilean and Brazlian. In exchange he showed me the first ever coin issued in India, so it was a fair deal. Now it starts to get weird. 'May I have a pen?' a staff memeber enquires, I hand it over without a thought. As he walks away the next satff memebr asks for one, 'Hey wait! I'm not giving the freakin pen away I thought you needed to borrow it!' Thankfully he hands back the only pen I own. But for the next few days every person is asking for a pen, what is this pen fixation? I don't get it. There are better things in this world to be fixated on, but who am I to judge. Someone says it's because they re-sell it but I don't think so. India continues to have a sense of humour though. Sitting in the train station minding the bags while Clauds is off to buy the train tickets a crazy man comes into the station mumbling to himself and looking generally frustrated at the workings of the world. He stands next to me and writes down a train time, mumbles in earnest to his paper, then drops his pen at my feet and walks out. I have half of India asking me for a pen, but a homeless man doles them out to me. A couple of girls come up to chat with me to practice their English and they are very sweet, on spotting the treasure at my feet they quickly ask 'Is that your pen!?!' Glad to finally be able to give a pen away I explain that it is in fact not mine but a crazy man who felt it was better that I have it. Their faces fall a little as they say goodbye after refusing the pen.

Twenty minutes later Mr Crazy comes and takes back the pen.

Don't ask me to explain the crazy of this place, I just observe it.

xoxo
Sim