A Great Big South Indian Adventure 12

Our thunderous final rev up subsided and we posed for some final photos in an easy flowing trance like state.
I was definitely in a dreamworld, beaming away and endomorphined up to the eyeballs.
The photos were so worthwhile, to seal the occasion, to show what an achievement it was, to leave us with something more concrete to trigger our memories. We all look so overwhelmingly happy.
Luckily this was all planned and executed by Alex and Fritha. They understand these things and without creating a fixed point our memories would wander like wisps of smoke driven by our own narrow view, failing to capture the totality of the occasion.
But beyond the armchair philosophy it is good looking back and the photos capture the elation really well. And to misquote Robbie Burns just look at the broad bricht sunlicht Knights.

One reason it was easy to enjoy the whole Adventure was that Alex had a well organised support team. They were always there when needed, up before us mending bikes, transporting the luggage and being our safety net. They must have sorted out multitudes of problems that we never knew existed. Support like that gives you the chance to go on to bigger and better things.

In India there were always legions of people there to help and that makes it so much easier to appreciate the country. You do not see everything they do so it is important to remember their contribution to that enjoyment.

We had a whip round and the support team certainly deserved our generosity, not least from me after all the work they put in with the mess I caused!

After the photos Alex had presentations for them. Lovely got a huge cheer, for being Lovely, as did Dharmender, for ensuring we could ride every day. It is good to see them beaming away.

After the photos I wandered dazed into the hotel's highly polished hardwood open lobby which looked onto Lake Vembanadu about 100 metres away. The well kept lawns of the hotel grounds were sliced by small drainage channels, barely wide enough for a punt. One of these channels reached into the reception area, as modern architects would have it, integrating inside and out.

We were greeted by beaming smiles and very welcome welcome drinks served in fresh coconuts. They were delicious. Halfway through my second one there was a commotion.
The channel reaching into the reception area ended in a mini dock connected to the highly polished wooden floors by some highly polished wooden steps. Someone had irresponsibly left a canoe tied serenely at the dock.
It was inevitable, a bunch of bikers still on adrenaline, a welcome drink and a canoe.
Chris and Tony bravely set off with Alex lobbing his (empty) coconut at them to raucous cheers.
The entertainment continued as they tried to turn the canoe in the very narrow channel. then Tony lobbed his valuables onto the lawn and we knew.
They did, they tipped the boat. With a lot of cheering and jeering and loud feedback they arrived back in reception where the staff quickly arrived with towels to minimise the damage to their modesty, as they stripped off, and to the polished reception floors they were going to drip muddy water all over.

The check-in procedure was almost immediate after that, but the stroll to the rooms seemed long, even though the hotel staff were bringing our bags. We were tired.
The rooms looked luxurious, certainly well above my standard, but Steve and I had a double bed which wasn't going to work. He trudged back to reception to see what they could do. The only twin room was in the bowels of the hotel next to a drainage channel. It was damp and the corridor carried the heavy scents of tropical degradation and damp towels, but we took it.
After a welcome shower and change of clothes I went to get a wi-fi code. At reception there was a long and hard argument about paying for internet. We do not pay separately for water or electricity. Today internet is the same. I had to get snotty and said that I had over 16,000 readers of my TripAdvisor reviews and I was not happy. I got the code but it was not a happy victory, I hope hotels stop this racket.
The internet would work in reception, but not in our room. It was all tedious, especially as I had started publishing the blog and people were asking for more and I didn't want to be sitting alone in reception with a beer. It doesn't look good, Boozy Blogger No Mates.
I gave up and went for a swim where Fritha and Sarah were on top of the beer ordering system which was very welcome. Fritha was wearing a frangipani flower she had found under a tree. A tree I had passed earlier at had not noticed the flowers. Typical. The frangipani looked very tropical and suitable and lovely.
There was not much time to wallow in the pool before we had to get back and get ready for the last night dinner, but on the way back I liberated all the fallen frangipani and left them at the doors of various rooms.

This was the celebration supper, the occasion for us all to wear traditional Indian dress. The outfit I had bought on the second night in Mysore was entirely made of oil derivatives and seemed designed to cause profuse weight loss in the heat, so that was discarded in favour of the semi-casual cotton goodies I'd picked up in Coimbatore. Good choice.
As usual my efforts at glamour involved a shower and possibly a hair wash, I may even have found a comb, but that is by no means certain.
We assembled for the dinner and it was really good to see how other people had made an effort. The ladies looked radiant and the guys looked assertively nervous. 

The flowers were for the Bullet Boys as well, which suited Michael rather better than it should have. He looked like he was wearing mascara, which suited his pale blue shawar kameez.

It seemed a lot more civilised than usual and we even opted for wine rather than beer which calmed the nerves rapidly. At least there were photos as evidence and the smiles remained radiant.

With more drinks and, presentations it steadily hit home, I have a Nomadic Knight t-shirt, a Nomadic Knight certificate, an Adventure Ashram certificate. We really accomplished something. 

Before dinner and the descent into darkness Chris showed his touring experience and quietly took the t-shirts and certificates into his care until the next morning. Whatever happened later we wanted to take our trophies home.

We sat outside behind mosquito netting but outside the air-con. Some ceiling fans would have been good and at least I was wearing cotton and not the maroon stripey rayon robes (perspiration for the purpose of).
As expected after another good Indian buffet we wandered out to the lake's edge and indulged in music of our era, trying to remember all the words to 'Come On Eileen' and other classics of the time. Reality caught up with willingness and people drifted off to bed fairly early. The stalwarts went for Karaoke in Room 201.
I couldn't find the energy to move from the table and ended up with poor Marguerite suffering my usual debating position when drunkenly talking with Brits, defending immigration and Europe. It always gets a good discussion going!

I do remember waking up to find Steve had come back and got to sleep, so much for the razor sharp edge to the man of action, alert to the slightest noise.... 

Since there was no wifi in the room around dawn and hours before anyone else would be up, I went to write in reception. The scene of the previous days rumbunctious bikers held a stillness that foretold early morning mosquitoes. Given my mildly thick head and unwillingness to move a lot, the bloodsuckers were thankfully mostly hibernating, or teetotal.

Writing was writ and people arrived and breakfast was a pleasant buffet with a really good marsala omelette. Having an upbringing where devilled kidneys were praised in theory but not practice I was completely unused to a spicy breakfast. But there in India it just seemed right. In the same way that to Anglo-Saxons it would be blasphemy, to Italians leaving wine in the bottle at a restaurant seems right.

The breakfast time of day saw everyone online, loading photos and updating friends, family and other Facebookers. Tony had messed up pre-trip and booked himself a return flight from Bangalore, so he had to leave early. Chris seemed sorry to see him go, which was actually comforting.

Alex had organised a large sumptuous boat to drift us around the lake and sneak into those backwaters that caused so much merriment in Thekaddy. This being Kerala, where booze was banned or at least discouraged, Alex had sensibly organised a large cooler filled with cool drinks, some of which were not beer.

We languidly lazed around in this large boat, keeping to the lake's edge. At least we were moving, and near the water, so it was fairly cool. In the summer back in the day, before air-con and internet, it must have been a life saver. 
As expected along a lake's edge there were many summer houses of wealthy people. The houses were widely spaced with big gardens. But the jungle green was interspersed by splashes of colour and action as washer women beat clothes at the water's edge. These were probably not the owners.

There were a few other boats on the water, with well-to-do people, like us enjoying the superiority of being well-to-do. We waved to some and some waved back, but it didn't feel a very wavy or friendly occasion. Perhaps superior people don't wave.

We drifted into a tiny dock to let Alex and Vidyha bargain for lake langoustines. These are somewhere between a prawn and a lobster. These guys were fresh, we only hoped their food had been fresh as well. Fluffy got involved and given her daring bathing suit this earned her the moniker of Prawn Star.

The crustaceans were handed to the boat's chef, who was probably also the pilot, which is how Chris got to drive. His merchant navy days may not have been severely tested but it gave him something to do while the rest of us were chatting and searching for interesting things to talk about with fellow Adventurers we would not see tomorrow.  

The lake was still and the boat seemed silent, apart from our babble. Fish eating birds perched on poles staring druggedly at the water, a snake shuffled to shore, lillies failed to snag the propeller and we chugged along.

The really cold beers helped with chilling to the 80's music.  It was a time to relax and that was well deserved for Alex and Vidyha. 

By the time lunch was served I was sailing, in several senses, and getting up from the bow of the boat brought on a mild dizziness that meant being careful not to trip or bump into anyone or spill stuff. So I must have been tiddly. Anyway the food was absolutely delicious. Languidly lunching on langoustines. It has a ring to it.

In that restful post lunch lull the trip seemed to be long, but the conversation picked up and suddenly we are back at the dock.

So a shower and a change and then off to reception to write. But I fell asleep instead. A quick siesta, honest, but it didn't help with the blogging. A wonderful cup of tea provided the spark to publish blogs 4 and 5, then the last evening supper. It all felt mellow, with some ragging and bragging and hearty goodbyes, ready for the wake up call at 4 am.