Sunrise at KK (6.00 am)
Morning starts early in Kanyakumari - 5 am, to be exact. Sun rises at 6.00 am, so we need to get ready before that. The sunrise viewing place was around 10 mins walk away. We were about to step out of the hotel when the doorman said: "Sunrise? Where you go? Press 5 in lift. Full terrace, yes. ×÷₹#@" The last few were not cuss words but expressions in Tamil which probably meant, where do these funny tourists come from. So up we went and peered eastward in the dim light. Sun was still hitting the snooze button. The sky was slowly turning pink when we realised that the piece de resistance, the V Rock (and also the T Rock, one must be fair) was not visible at all, probably hidden behind one if the buildings in the foreground. We looked at one another and rushed down to go to the view point - and joined a veritable stream of sunrise hounds, let loose like the dogs of war, pouring into alleyways, into seaward nooks and crannies, baying for orange blood. We were also carried along to the beach, where the red orb rose majestically after another 15 mins. Grand sight it was.
After the frenzy of photography and associated calisthenics were over, and the hounds had been recalled to pavilion, or tiffin houses, I was telling Panna that this was the last over-the-sea sunrise we shall see on this trip. After this, it is glorious sunset country of the west coast.
[Incidentally, someone was telling me that TN sees glorious sunrises and Kerala sees glorious sunsets. Perhaps that is why TN produces better priests and milkmen, while Kerala produces better poets and bar-hoppers. I don't think that's true, though.]
Hotel Orion at Kovalam (11.30 am)
We left Kanyakumari at 9.00 am after a spot of breakfast. For once, the restaurant owner plonked down the 'North Indian' page and insisted gleefully that only this was available. Arre kisko darata hai? Parathas and puris flew through our fingers like a magician's deck. We gave a parting lick to our plates, loaded our car and took off.
Today's was a short 80 km journey, just about 2 hrs. For an hour we travelled through TN with that acne-ridden teenager's cheek still under our wheels. But when we hit NH66 in Kerala, the Mumbai Road, oh man, was it butter smooth or was it? At 11.00 am, we were climbing down from the highway and approaching the southern end of Kovalam beach, where the red-and-white lighthouse stands guard.
We knew that the road stops 100m short of the on-beach location of our hotel, but we didn't know that we could not legally park anywhere nearby! While Panna was trying to call the hotel for help in parking, a serious policeman came and gravely asked me what did I think I was doing? I think his exact words were: "What do you think you are doing?". Now, I was parked on a steep decline, expected to do a 3-point turn and go back an indeterminate distance and locate some unknown free parking! Luckily, a lad from the hotel arrived and I asked him to find me a parking quick. He gestured like a ballet dancer and mumbled something about 'behind'. I dragged him into the car as a guide, somehow turned my car, gunned up the narrow slopes, took a side lane, was guided along a series of narrow, steep, winding roads to a free parking lot roughly to the rear of our hotel. Man, I'd like to see Roger Moore do it! A friend of mine was supposed to come and meet me in the evening. I firmly told him to park on the main road, preferably near the fire brigade, and take an auto.
The sea at Kovalam is something anyone would fall in love with. It has that distant deep blue of the Arabian Sea, but the turquoise tinge of the African east coast, the water very clear and rising in playful waves, the sand alternating between white and black along the stretch. We were at the left or southern end, and the Orion, like many other hotels on the waterfront, was just a few steps away from the bubblies. Rows of cafes lined the pathway, each one ensuring a fantastic sea-view without even trying.
While our room was getting ready, we walked to a beach cafe and had fresh lime sodas. Pricy place, which is not surprising seeing the large number of foreign tourists in boisterous bikinis. "Mostly Russians," said George, our hotel manager, and we nodded understandingly, though I had no clue as to why the dickens should so many Russians invade Kovalam? This is not Ukraine, is it?
Our rooms on the second floor had a clear clear view till the horizon and any possible sunsets lurking therein. We rested for a while and then took a walk along the promenade, looking for lunch. Lots of seafood being touted, and we had fish moilee with lemon rice. My Bong insides went crazy in glee, like a labrador meeting his master after a month's separation.
Sunset at Kovalam (6.00 pm)
Our friends Vijay and Asha were due to arrive just before sunset. Being from Thiruvanthapuram (which the Brit sailors who lost their teeth due to scurvy on their long voyage over, shortened to the explosive and spittle-laden Tri-van-drum), they knew the difficulties of reaching this place and managed to arrive as the sun touched the horizon.
Meanwhile Panna had decided to take a dip before they arrived, and had purchased appropriate shorts and top. But even at the official low tide, the sea was quite something. She stood and got pummeled, she sat and got pushed around, she lay down and got rolled over. It was like watching a match of Ali vs Frazier. Couldn't keep either of them down. Meanwhile I had settled down to a ringside deck chair, guarding our belongings and obliging when she shouted requests like "Take... glug... pic!". As the sun lowered and lost steam, the crowd in the sea increased, including a dog who wasn't sure whether he liked a sea bath. The day of the Sabbath was the day of the Bath, and tomorrow the beach will again belong to the foreign tourists who had parked for a month with a tanning agenda.
So as the sky turned orange and then paled with the sun getting dunked, the four of us sat at a cafe talking of Muscat days. After the couple left, we wandered around, trying to get a fix on dinner. We were finally back in Crab Club, consuming buttered crab (Panna) and Fish Steaks (I). It was good to get some icthyoproteins inside. A whole day had gone past without the thali, imagine!
Tomorrow we leave for Kochi/Aluva, after taking a refreshing sea bath. Our travel is now south to north, technically homeward bound.
Photo credits: Panna Rashmi Ray