By the time we left, I had become a little attached to Munnar despite it’s general lack of charm. I also felt like Velu (the guesthouse’s manager) and I had formed some sort of friendship. As Marisa mentioned, he let me help him make dinner a couple nights and we talked about his kids and the fact that he’d never been outside of Munnar. He was a charming guy and made our time in Munnar more enjoyable.

We decided to make Varkala our next destination after hearing a lot of good things about from fellow travelers in Munnar. Of course, this meant another harrowing bus ride through the mountains, this time on the side with the nice view down the cliff upon which the road is perched. And you know what? It wasn’t really that bad. As it turns out, Indian buses are significantly more terrifying to be in on flat country roads than on the mountain roads. I can say with great confidence that our bus spent more time in the oncoming lane than the proper lane. Actually, using the term ‘lane’ gives too much credit to the actual practice of rural Indian driving. There are really only suggestions of lanes, hints of lanes, or technically existing lanes. Like most things in this world, there are the ways you are supposed to do something and then there is the actual way people do it. While the theory of driving in India does involve lanes, the actual practice of driving a bus in India apparently involves being in a state of perpetual overtake. More often than not, we were passing a car that was passing a rickshaw that was passing a bicycle, all while heading directly towards an oncoming bus at speeds around 50-60 km/h. Our driver forced motorcycles off the road and came within inches of colliding with cargo trucks, other buses, and fuel tankers with ‘inflammable’ scrawled all over them. I’ve never been so terrified in a vehicle before and had to force myself to look away a few times. Marisa was truly fortunate in that she couldn’t see over the seat very well and was spared the sight of headlights directly ahead of us, bearing down at great speeds and then miraculously sliding past as we weaved to the left.

Also, we were about three hours late. The in-house rickshaw guy had given up on us and we had an amusing interaction with one at the bus stop. It gave our longest day yet a sorely-needed feeling of levity.

But that’s enough about the journey to Varkala. Once we arrived it was as relaxing as India got for us. It’s a beach town, full of tourists and full of vendors trying to sell the same textiles and t-shirts to the same tourists. The place we stayed was very relaxing but it was a little wearing to constantly refuse (politely, of course) to look at the vendors’ goods while walking along the cliff path. The power went off a few time while we were there and we enjoyed a few nighttime walks with our flashlight and the moon lighting our way.

Speaking of the cliff, it’s clear that the whole scene is fated to tumble into the ocean. You can see chunks of missing dirt with landslides below them. Some of them are extremely fresh and suggest it’s an ongoing thing. Even the guidebooks say to visit before the whole thing falls down onto the beach below. Judging from the picture below, it won’t take that long.

Varkala was a great place for a few days, even with the constant chatter from the vendors trying to sell us stuff. The place we were staying (Om-India-Om) was well-kept by this nice German lady named Daniela who lives there 9 months out of the year. It was close to the beach and the hotel next door had a decent restaurant. We could hear the waves crashing on the beach which was about a five minute walk away.

We had some good dining experiences in Varkala. First, we had dinner and a couple drinks at a place where some guys did a little Bollywood-style dancing. It was very amateur but their enthusiasm was infectious. We ended up tipping them a bit when we left. We also found a nice restaurant that wasn’t too far away from our place and served a good breakfast. The host was always excited to see us and there was even a puppy that hung around every time we ate there. He was incredibly adorable and was even willing to eat all the non-meat stuff we put in front of him.

The beach was nice in theory but (referring back to the ‘actual practice’ idea) the waves broke too hard and too close to the shore for the swimming to be any fun. These are minor complaints, though. The food was good, the accommodations were comfortable, and the sound of the beach was soothing. I even got a haircut and the guy was cool enough to let me take a picture of myself. The guy was efficient and friendly and it was the best $2 haircut I’ve ever received. Actually, it was one of the best haircuts I’ve had, flat out.

From Varkala we caught the train to Trivandrum (aka Thirivananthapurum. It’s a mid-sized city that is one of the main cities in the very southern part of the coutnry. We stayed there for a night before catching our flight to Bangalore, from which we flew to Bangkok via Kuala Lumpur. Sadly, we just barely missed the Kerala International Film Festival. Technically, we were there for the last day, but the only thing on the program we could have attended was the final ceremony. If we had known we might have arrived earlier but that’s just how it goes. We had an interesting meal in the local installment of Indian Coffee House, an Indian chain of coffee houses around the country. We didn’t take any pictures but you can click here to see some pictures of it.

There’s not much else to say about Trivandrum. It was definitely nice to get away from the extremely touristy Varkala and be in a normal city for a little while. Being surrounded by foreigners wearing those stupid baggy pants with elephants on them gets to be a little much after a few days. Of course, being in Trivandrum was also a reminder of how stressful it can be to be in an Indian city. They are crowded, smelly, noisy, and just generally crazy. By the end of our time in India I think we’ve definitely learned what people mean when they say they have a love/hate relationship with the country. The people are lovely (the 99% that aren’t trying to sell you something or rip you off), the cities are bustling (see above for the drawbacks), the culture is rich (with parts that are conservative and misogynistic), the landscapes are beautiful (except when they’re not), and the history is incredible (but full of suffering). India is a place of contradiction, frustration, and inspiration, often all at once. We will miss it and will probably come back someday. Right now, though, in the words of countless people in frustrating relationships before us, we just need some space.