Varkala

Varkala was the epitome of relaxed beachside nothing. Set on a cliffside with steps cut into the rock it was pretty and picturesque and expensive! Bear in mind we are talking a pound for a dish, but we had quickly begun thinking in rupees.



Apparently less built up than some places futher down the coast, it was still a quite tourist catered affair. With the help of our friend Kingfisher (a.k.a 'Special Tea' and served in a china pot to confuse the local police squad - brilliant! See also R, W, B - whatever could they mean...?) and the menu above we forgave it rather quickly, open-minded pair that we are. Number 150 is for you Mansi. Yum!

Feeling decidedly low on Vitamin D we attempted to do some sunbathing. This was in part a favour to the Indian people, as our luminescent bodies caused several to go blind during our short time on the subcontinent.

Thats not Alex by the way. Or me.

We like to call this one "Fat man at Sunset".

The more attractive beach goers engaged in a sunset and sunrise salute and looked impressively bendy, brown and athletic. We looked on appreciatively over the tops of our teapots.