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Spice Jet
About to fly from Bangalore to Goa Last night Thor and I sat in the floundering emptiness of Primrose. A bar that used to be the "In place"for the Goa-tribes has run itself into the ground and lays peppered with dust and echoes of life once past. It had an almost delicious lostness about it. Sitting at the bar, waiting for a person to wrestle themselves from slumber to come attend to our needs, order wine, waiter rummaging around in a dark closet pulling out random bottles from random countries all severely coated in time and seclusion, labels peeled/faded/missing, a lottery at best, settling on a newer Indian brand...cork pulled with broken corkscrew... martini glasses placed in front of us (Eh hem) and wine poured slow and cold. Two travelers sitting by the bar, empty, playing cards, the soft smell of dampness and decay permeating throughout..... the remnants of ruination caught on the breeze...
After flicking through various TV programs upstairs watching stories of Mexican Wrestlers, successful cooks who use witchcraft in their recipes, horrendous sculptures raised in the name of ART, we headed for food to Pascoals... a small Portuguese villa in the middle of the jungle left to crumble, forgotten.
In time's past I
John in shades
John at a cafe in Ooty used to go there with friends and struggle to get a table... the balcony swinging to the sound of music and air cloaked with the strong scent of the chillums being passed around openly...tables would be set out in the garden to cater to the increasing demand... kitchen over-flowing with orders and chaotic.
Now it lays in much the same state as Primrose. For some reason people moved on to other places... leaving it to receed into itself. The garden tables were gone... the balcony was spread with only 2 tables instead of 8.... a lone couple sat finishing their meal when we arrived. Everyone looked at us in shock......"customers?" ... We ordered the famous roast beef and beers and sat annoyed by the two cats who didn't take a hint.
The food came. It was as good as usual. Like time has stood still and only my memory was betraying me.
Then it was off to read at home and fall asleep with the heaviness of someone who needs rest but doesn't want to admit it.
Such have the days been in Goa... after the feverous departure from Kerala, the night train, the endless search
Fishing
Gone fishing in Ooty for a hotel room in Coimbatore (mixed with fever and incredible fatigue), the wondrous journey up to Ooty watching the dry, dusty furnace of the plains be replaced tile by tile with the lush vibrance of the trees, waterfalls cutting rocks in half, and higher up the emerald adornments of the tea plantations....spreading far as the eye can see, like a strangely angled ocean.
Three days spent in Ooty, driving to the Toda villages, seeing Doddabetta, eating breakfast at The Willow Hill, dinner at the Savoy...every other meal at Shinkows with the most lethargic waiter on earth.... Fishing with bamboo rods bought in the market...sitting under the rocks at Pykara Waterfall and escaping in thought....
Then the journey down to the plains on the other side.... summoning a taxi at the market... driver as insane as a cat... smoking joints all the way down 36 hair pin bends while we politely refrain and hold on for our lives... arriving in Masinagudi, jumping into another jeep and hurtling through the Jungle... saw a few deer, monkeys, lemurs, and a huge elephant slightly hidden in the bushes... arrive in Mysore.. check in... head to the Ritz for lunch... then back
Our Driver
This maniac rolled 3 joints while driving down 36 hair pin bends. to the room to sleep off the journey... Dinner at the rooftop restaurant surrounded by stars and city lights..... early to bed... late to rise... off to the Maharaja's Palace... walking through rooms cool on your bare feet, marble and a tangle of paintings, stained glass and portaits all speak of a time past.. a better time perhaps... Then out into the heat of the outside.... back to the hotel and off to Bangalore with most distracted driver on earth... kept his eye's almost everywhere but on the road... made it safely, John left for the airport...sadness in departure... then off to find a hotel room and off to some cheap wannabee metal bar for a couple of pints to calm and collect.
Thor and I decide to fly to Goa to save staying 2 more nights in Bangalore and leave in the morning after visiting Premier Bookstore with his insane method of stacking shelves and suppressed smile as I walk in like I do every year or two for a chat and a couple of purchases.
Fly SpiceJet uneventfully to Goa. Share a cab to Vagator with an incredibly talkative Russian girl..... head straight to China Town...eat some Momo's and Thukpaa, its good to be home.
The rest of the days here have been spent swimming, eating, barely drinking, reading, rushing to the hospital with blood pressure over 156/110, calming down and having 4 normal readings over the next 2 days....resting (obviously)...reading further....
Which brings us up to last night which ended up being a night of nostalgia.. not only for ourselves, but seemingly also for the places we visited.. like having customers brought them a small glimpse of what life used to be like, and possibly only added further to their sadness at knowing that their time had truly passed, and when was the right time to cut the strings and allow everything to collapse on top of you, like a house of cards, leaving nothing... nothing but the happenings of a time passed to suppress the need to feel regret as the soft folds of sleep anchor us down and slowly bring the world to a grinding halt.
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