Varkala: A short but significant stop

After parting ways for a couple of days we met back up with the boys (Mads and Dan) in Varkala, marking our southernmost destination in India. Expecting hordes of tourists, jugglers, and fire-twirlers we found quite the opposite: barren stretches of sand, bare cliffs, and a confused sea that we entered warily at first and then head on, enthusiastically. It helped that we stayed at an Ayurvedic clinic/retreat in the far end of town where we thoughtlessly ate what we pleased, drank beer, and smoked cigarettes with no regard for the Europeans in search of other-worldly purges and miracle cures. At night we settled into our cliff-side restaurant in a wonderful stupor only to later fight hard against the dark to get back to our bed in one piece or at least without falling thirty meters into the ocean. That said, Varkala seemed a more serious place, irrespective of its Hindu holiness. Unlike the mildness of southern Goa, there was something denser in the air so that even the sea and the sand and the red stones around seemed motivated to stir about.

Vivi and Mads braving the current


seaside puja

inland a bit

selling ice


hours were dedicated to paddle-ball


there was something very soothing about the windswept cliffs



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