What a difference a brew makes
Trip Start
Sep 05, 2008
1
2
68
Trip End
Ongoing
Thiruvananthapuram (Trivandrum),
Kerala,
India
Sunday, September 7, 2008
There is a sturdy chest height fence immediately in front of you as you leave the airport. People stand on the other side of this as they wait for friends and family who've just arrived. Although it was only 6am It must have been five deep at least for the entire 100 yard length of the fence. Brushing against the back row of these were the cars entering and leaving the airport in every direction. It was fairly chaotic. There were cars, rickshaws and bicycles everywhere, some cars containing families of up to ten crammed in
Aiport at 6am (2)
. There were no taxis in sight, so I managed to wrestle my way back through the waiting masses and into the airport again, where the man from the taxi office led me to where I need to go. Catherine was waiting at the front of the airport and by the time I returned had befriended a young Indian girl who was keen to practice her English.We got in the cab, a modern version of an old English Austin Ambassador and made our way to the hotel. There were massive puddles everywhere, and it was obvious that we weren't going to escape the rain that we'd looked forward to leaving at home. By the time we had arrived at our hotel we'd come to understand the Indian driving system. Basically, you need to beep your horn whenever you overtake, turn, speed up, slow down, change gears, look in your mirror or catch sight of another vehicle, pedestrian, animal or plant.
We arrived at the hotel at 6.30am. The bloke on duty appeared knackered. Despite this he let us in, carried our bags to our room which he allowed us to check into straight away, and made us a pot of tea. Decent. We then kipped for about 5 hours.
A quick walk into town followed
Airport at 6am
. It was obvious that there weren't too many tourists around at all, and we were quite a novelty for some of the local kids. The main MG road through the town was mental, traffic going in four directions at once, the rule seemingly being look after number one. And beep. Lots. Nobody seemed to be interested in the road sign which read "Avoid rash driving for your safety".We got home at 5, seconds before a seriously heavy downpour and relaxed for a little while with another pot of tea.
In the evening we found a small but busy restaurant where we enjoyed a good quality meal and a coffee afterwards, before settling the bill which we had allowed to run up to about 75p. We were keen for a beer but there had been a noticeable absence of any alcohol at all since our arrival. Fortunately I had spotted a sign during our walk earlier that read "Beer Parlour". So we headed to it.
The Beer Parlour was a square room containing about 20 formica tables. We walked to the only free table and sat down. From the looks on peoples' faces it would be safe bet to say that women don't usually go there. Although the place was packed, Catherine was the only women, maybe the first woman ever to enter. I would say definitely the first white woman. We sat waiting to get served. I had noticed that a few guys who came in after us were being served, and the man serving seemed to be avoiding making eye contact. We hung on for about five minutes before another server came to our table and slapped down two half pint glasses.
"Kingfisher? Two?" He asked. That was a relief. He came back with two large, cold bottles of beer. Unfortunately though, I don't think it's a place we'll be frequenting.
