1st February

1st February, no dead dogs at Marari Beach Resort

We had tried on the previous day to go to the very plush Marari Beach resort complex which is roughly 3km up the road or  beach, but had been told politely that in very high season, with the 62 chalet homes all filled, they do not permit day visits. However they reckoned without our man Rajesh. When I told him this had happened he said immediately ' Would you like me to speak to the manager for you?' So yesterday saw Jude and I taking the autorickshaw ride again, this time with the instructions to ask for the manager, Mr Hari Krishna. We did appear to have found an Open Sesame, so through the elegant grounds we went, all lawns and coconut palms (with nets to stop the coconuts falling on sun-bathing guests) and very attentive young men. This is plainly a place where people get seriously high-end treatment. The cost per night is well over £100, which is a lot of rupees and buys a lot of service I guess. 

We were escorted to the dining room where we negotiated anxiously to make sure it was going to be ok to have a small salad (£8) rather than the whole enormous buffet spread before us. Mr Hari K said he would not normally have made the exception for us but he could not refuse two ladies. For a moment I was back in France where such flannel and flattery trips readily from the Gallic male's lips.  We worked out that at the  RUHSA canteen we could have purchased roughly 32 meals with our salad money!

Jude wearing just the right shade of blue for the picture!

After a lounge under the coconuts we decided that a dip in the Arabian Sea was in order. We sped across the boiling hot sand to the water's edge where some very large waves were breaking. As I  could see some other middle-aged people further up the beach who were swimming I imagined that it would be easy enough to get over the waves to the stiller water. Alas no, the sand dipped sharply at the water's edge and the waves were not just fairly high but more importantly had a very strong sucking undertow. So down I went in a sudden heap, and as I struggled to get up, along came the next wave. By the third wave, which completely covered me and had me spluttering in very salt water, I had begun to wonder how I would ever get up. Jude and a middle-age tourist man who was standing nearby both moved towards me, having realised what was amiss, and with Jude's outstretched hand I made it up before the next pummelling wave hit me. The only slight problem was that my costume had dropped down in the melee and out had popped the bosoms. Fortunate indeed that I have no pride left and that my main feeling was relief to be out of the way of harm! 

We decided to give up on the idea of a dip and just paddled instead in the very warm water, then sat down to watch the gorgeous spectacle of the setting sun. Just up the beach to our right, beyond the Beach resort complex, we could see crowds of people. Apparently it is a favourite thing for local Indians to come down to the sea on a Sunday night to watch the spectacle. The sun again failed to make it all the way down to the sea and the horizon before it disappeared but nonetheless it was lovely. On our way home we saw the nearly-full moon rising. An interesting day on Marari Beach.