[Instead of Water, Try the Fish! - Kerala, Sth India]

In loving dedication to my critics, Ingrid & JaseMeister.

On the 19th November I arrived with 2 Russian friends in Varkala. This is probably my most favorite place since Ive traveled and I certainly have raved about it to all and sundry since. But like any quiet, beautiful, off the beaten tourist path word gets out and soon the place is crawling with half hearted wannabe hippies on holiday. Varkala is fast becoming like that, but its charm is still present, still.

Astute readers will recall that Varkala is the place (last year) where yours truly ate the ice-cream. It was not till after the event of heaving my guts up did people inform me about the dangers of ice-cream on a full stomach...I also remember Varkala, despite my vegetarian pledge, as the place where I ate tandory tikka butterfish. It just melted in the mouth.

After settling into my hotel we were seated in the very same butterfish restaurant, looking forward to our fish meal, sipping beers and watching the sun set.

The fish had a strange taste. But its been a good year since Ive had fish like this, so maybe I forgot the taste I mused. My friends were also bewildered but we ate on. True, there were some wonderful pieces of shish on that skewer, but at the same time afew seemed to be dodgy.

Within minutes of finishing our meal our heart rate doubled. I started to feel feverish and cold. (Unfortunately this is an all to well familiar feeling) I demanded from the waiter to know how old the fish was, but all we got was the "no problem, no problem...", as the waiter shook his head in Indian fashion, half grinned, as if he didnt understand the question or he was glad to finally have sold that week old fish. Im ready to lunge in anger at the waiter for his indifference but my Russian friend distracts me; she starts crying, her fast heart rate is scaring her. It has to come out; there is no other way...

We both walked to the back of the restraint to the dimly lit toilet. Ive never done this before and I imagined it would be easy. I put 2 fingers down my throat, but nothing happened, other than a slight feeling of a dry reach. I had to really put my fingers down, almost playing with my 'boxing bag', and hold it there...and then only a small piece of fish surfaced. 20 minutes I spent, and the dodgy fish pieces tasted even worse the second time. Despite my predicament, I still had time to appreciate the smaller things :-) I was amazed I had some vegetables with my meal but none came up. It seems true we digest the vegetables faster. Luckily I didnt eat carrots (didnt see any either).

Well that was dinner. To add insult to injury they still included the fish meal on the bill. We left ofcourse, without paying for the fish...the waiters chased the girls asking them if they had forgotten to pay for it? In their slight but distinctly Russian accent they clearly expressed their 'feelings'. I barely made it back to my hotel toilet but after my body flushed itself the worse was over. So started my holiday.

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I bummed, I mean, holidayed for 3 weeks long. Varkala is on a westerly cliff which is 50m above the beach. This means I could eat my breakfast and clearly spot the dolphins swim past every morning, or sip chai as the sun drifted away after the hot day. Glorious, orange and pink sunsets, glittering off the ocean.

Plenty of bird life (including the feather kind :) too. Sea and land hawks perched in the coconut trees, which line the cliff, would daily circle above the beach (often and eye level as the beach is 50m below) before swooping into the ocean, clutching its prey. The beach has real waves, great for body surfing. Books to read, beer to drink, grass to smoke, what more do I need?

It was a holiday, a welcomed relief from the seriousness of the ashram.

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