The dole drums limited

The beach community of Arambol has, with a little time, revealed itself to be a much more enjoyable experience than we had perhaps first perceived. We have been here for three days now, after being quite determined to leave after two. In all honesty, i would be quite happy to stay here for another four days. Eventually, one finds a few nice places to eat, to sit and read, the gentle warmth of the Arabian Sea coaxes the sore and aching muscles, and the local vendors cease their hassling. Indeed, the markets seem to have disappeared altogether - though they are still very much open for business. After the first day of lying about, doing nothing much (a very stressful pastime for me), i started to adjust, to relax, to let go. Then the charms of this place were able to work their magic. The subjective result has culminated in a deep sense of quiet and lethargy - i am quite happy to just rest here for a bit. Sometimes i feel guilty for it, but when i consider how hard and how long i had been working the past year, the slow laziness seems justified.

Marty, however, seems quite keen to get back on the road - and apparently without any real sense of direction. "South! We're heading south." Some names have been slid across the table, but i feel like a passenger in this move. Which is absolutely fine - i have plenty of time to see this country. Marty only has three weeks left. But i have little real motivation to leave quite yet. We were meant to go this morning. A road blockage, however, seems to have thwarted our exit strategy. So i will find myself an avocado lassi, and return to the pages of Hemingway (excellent recommendation Alex!), in the sun, by the sea, by myself.

It has been a blessing to have spent this time here for another set of reasons. The part of travel they don't mention in the Lonely Planet books, is getting used to not being at home. Being away, i have struggled with a new and challenging world, but struggled perhaps more profoundly with my feelings of dislocation, loss and estrangement. This is the experience of being crushed, like a swollen eyeball threatening to escape the socket - the constricting lids cutting into my sides. It has been good to stay here for a few days, to get used to being away from home, in this relatively calm, stressless refuge from greater INDIA. Going to the toilet, is nothing like home. There is no toilet paper. Forget your training... you must unlearn what you have learned.