On Vacation

Varkala India
A more hardened and intrepid traveler would scoff at the idea of a vacation in the middle of a global oddesy. I am certain that Capt. Shackleton would mock my pathetic mealie mouthed, pampered ass for even considering a respite after so little adversity.

Fortunately for me Capt. Shackleton is dead and I am not.

In Varkala the beach stretches leisurely into the hazy horizon. Rambling stairways wind down to the sand from the tired cliffs above. When the sun finally gets around to setting each night it is far too lazy to put on any kind of a show. Instead it simple blushes red before going to sleep in the sea. Cables dangling electric light come to life along the clifftop and the day's catch of fresh fish is arranged for viewing by the various restaurants. Strolling along Suzanne and I debate the merits of a glassy eyed marlin with a protective tomato impaled on its nose. We settle instead on smaller red snapper and begin discussions on how it might be cooked.

"Wrapped in banana leaf. Steamed with masala. Very good!" With a smile that says 'Trust me, I know what I'm talking about' our fish seller/restaurateur entices us into his establishment.
Dinner arrives complete with french fries and soda water with fresh lemon.

The problem here is not how long we should stay but rather how to leave.