We're in India

The first thing you notice about the budget airport in Singapore is the noise. It is a bustling and almost vibrant terminal that is not part of the main international terminals at Changhai Airport. The second thing you notice, is that we are the only white faces as far as the eye can see. Whilst we are still in Singapore, we are clearly already experiencing a taste for what it will be like once we actually land in India. A distinct minority. We happen to end up in a line next to the only other white faces in the airport, and funnily enough a family from Darwin.  But this is only the beginning of moments we start to fondly refer to as "we're in India". Moments that make you stop, maybe first get a little frustrated and then you find yourself smiling and saying "we're in India".  The time between frustration and smiling can vary, from a minute to a couple of hours, but ultimately you can find the amusing side in the idiosyncrasies that are India.

We arrived late on our first night so the taxi drive from the airport through the streets of Trivandrum was limited to glimpses of deserted streets and quiet lane ways, our pre-booked accommodation seemed very clean and adequate and the beach front location a bonus. Staying in Kovalam is really an easy sideways step into India, the beach side resorts, shops and restaurants all cater for the western tourist on vacation.  A day by the beach was not hard to comprehend as our first experience in India, enjoying the sunshine and getting a taste for what it might be like being a western women in a country where shoulders and legs are deemed provocative. Groups of India men also like to enjoy the sunshine, along with the views of western women that are sunbathing on the beach. They cruise the beach, ambling along, often hand in hand, and unashamedly try to cop a view. Not even a strategically placed sarong could deter them. Something you get used to is plenty of attention from the opposite sex. 

The beach is patrolled by guys dressed in police like  uniforms wielding red flags and whistles - it was almost like being at a  mardi gras parade except there where a few too many clothes. We pondered how the life guard in his full uniform could actually save anyone. We were soon to learn as the whistle blowing got louder and more urgent, the life guard began to strip down to his speedos and stride into the surf - it was getting more and more like mardi gras every minute.  A rush of people to the rescue and the youth was saved and the life guard returned to don his uniform and patrol the beach, whistle and flag in had - peace is restored on the beach until next time.

The beach at Kovalam