this could be magic

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day 91-92ish

We had cunningly planned to catch the sun setting and rising over Kanyakumari - the southernmost tippy toe of India. Sadly our timing was out, and we missed sunset. Kanyakumari is, unsurprisingly perhaps, another pilgrim destination. At dawn, hundreds of black dhoti*-clad Indians were bathing themselves in the (probably auspicious) waters of the Bay of Bengal, Indian Ocean and Arabian Sea, which swirl around the point. Creating entertainment for us, were the lads trying to strike heroic poses for the camera, whilst trying in vain not to slip off rocks.

The rain clouds which rolled in, obscuring the sun's rise (utterly spoiling our cunning plan) marked the beginning of a very wet day. A couple of hours busride north, in Trivandrum (aka Thiruvananthapuram), we were drenched while on our way to lunch. The streets turned to rivers; we gave up on our slippery flip flops preferring to wade bare feet; and Soph's legs were stained blue by the dye running from her cheap Nepalese skirt.

We rickshawed it through foot-deep puddles to the airport to greet Soph's sister, Jane. In contrast to our bedraggled selves, Jane appeared tanned, in a pristine stylish white skirt & top combo. She was glowing from within after her all inclusive, all-mind, body and soul-improving Aryuvedic package hol in Goa. This apparently had involved a stressful timetable of yoga, massage and relaxing on the beach. She was laden down with foul-smelling pills and potions and wowed us with talk of 'kaphas', 'pittas', and 'doshas'.

Our happy trio continued onto a magic show at the Academy of Magical Sciences (a random, but reccommended attraction for a relatively unexciting city). The magician amused and confused us by performing tricks with cards, balls, string, etc. Dan was watching like a hawk and became increasingly frustrated on not being able to work out the 'magic'. It later transpired that the magican had clocked Dan's beady eye and performed his tricks accordingly; ensuring the angle towards Dan was covered at all times.

Later, Dan put up with incessant chatting by the sisters, but was pacified by a tasty meal at a cheap and dirty dhaba.


*Sarong worn mostly by southern Indian men. Often look like dishcloths and are often retied in the middle of the street. Dan is becoming worringly fond of wearing them... watch out Norfolk!

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