Kanyakumari
At the end of October, we were on the move with what seemed like the rest of the Indian population. We were fast approaching Diwali and we were on a local train from Kochi to Kanyakumari. Seven hours in an Air Conditioned carriage in ‘Chair’ seats. The seats weren’t together. After a couple of hours, the Train Manager kindly remedied that, giving us two seats together. As the landscape outside the window sped past we became aware that we were going to arrive in the dark. It was a long journey through Kerala.
Kerala had always been on my wish list and here we were speeding through it! Perhaps we had made a mistake only booking two nights at the station at the end of India? When we arrived we were immediately thrown into the standard Indian Station chaos. This time we had drivers determined to take us to an excellent hotel and obviously on a commission. It quickly became annoying and resulted in a fair amount of bluster until we could get what we wanted.
The hotel we chose had all the normal Indian trademarks including a million switches which did not appear to do anything!
The following morning we ventured out to find breakfast. The end of India is a cross between the crazy chaos of an Indian village and a British Seaside town. It was cheesy.
We have often commented when visiting new Indian Towns that all places sell the same stuff but have a speciality. In Jaipur it was trousers. Jodphur had the monopoly on Resin bangles. In Pushkar, everyone seemed to be selling the same handmade paper books. Kanyakumari’s exuberance was shells. Every conceivable item made from shells……..standard tourist fare in a seaside town. Far from authentic, but they did make a lovely change from stall upon stall selling dreamcatchers. The second thing to strike us was souvenir tattoos. The number of stalls offering these services was bewildering. Six weeks making fun of the Indian Spelling mistakes on important signage and hoardings made Indian tattoos a very long way down my list of ‘Indian Takeaways’. But, the establishment which promoted its use of ‘single-use needles’ nearly swayed me.
Kindly, I would say that Kanyakumari is a town which services the needs of the Indian Tourist. So it should. Like us they are drawn to the ‘end of the world’ just to see it. It’s a hole, and the constant begging is exhausting. The Tsunami garden memorial was unkept and forgotten. 20 years since this natural event shook the world, people here have short memories.
We saw from a distance that there were ‘works’ being undertaken on the island. But we risked the 75p for the return ferry. There are just two things to see on the island. Firstly, the Vivekana Rock. A memorial celebrating the three days Vivekana spent meditating on the rock. Today he would have to find somewhere else to meditate as it is no longer peaceful.
The second thing to see here you can’t miss is the Thiruvallur statue. This one celebrates the life of a scholar. Being on a separate part of the island it is usually approached as an additional stop on the ferry. Obviously, the local district have done the maths and decided that the increase in the price for all, far outweighs the construction of what appears to be a very unsympathetic bridge. Its construction causing 50% of the ferry destination to be unavailable at the time we visited.
The day was exceptionally hot. Aware that we had a train the following morning and no plan for tackling Kerala. We retreated to the wheezy air conditioning of our hotel room for five hours of trip planning. Deciding to head for Varkala, we booked a week in a homestay. We were hoping that we would start to feel better if we stayed put for a while.
Later we returned to the end of the world for an unspectacular sunset. Retreating we went to find a local restaurant which would allow us to eat before 7.30 pm
Kanyakumari was an educational visit. Here we learned that there is a difference between Right Hand and Left Shells …… so that alone was worth the train journey.
