5th Jan 13        Day 3. The Travancore Heritage.

It is an hour into day 3 by the time I get to my room and say goodnight to my lovely son. A huge hard bed, big enough to sleep across as well as down, solid, carved furniture. All very Portuguese with echoes of China in the orange tiled roofs curving up at the corners. I unpack and turn off the fridgelike air con’. Warmth hugs me.  While showering all the lights go out leaving me in total dark. It’s a new environment and I need a towel, why, there is no hint of light anywhere? Modestly covered and feeling my way cautiously around the walls I find the door to the corridor and open it tentatively. Nothing, just velvet darkness and a slap, slap, slap of wet footprints coming towards me. ‘Hello?’ brings no response, just the continuing footprints. It’s too warm for ghosts, is it a lost child? Impossible it’s 2 in the morning. Withdrawing back into my room I begin to feel my way towards the phone. CLICK, everything starts up again, lights, TV. Curiosity returns me to the corridor but it’s empty, no wet footprints only the sleeping silence of hotel doors very late at night. I climb on my bed, switch on the fan and lie down as the warm air circles me to sleep. I'll find the answer in the morning.

They are clattering at the door which is unlocked, ‘come in, come in’ and the precious family all rush to hug and roll on the bed. I love being a Grannie. Presents for them, presents, all laid out just how I planned it and received with delight – yess. We set off for breakfast, the hotel carved out of the jungle. Up the hill, through the jungly trees, past the pool, by the shop, what do you want to eat? Sweet bread, butter, freshly cooked eggs, chai, lovely. I won’t eat fruit or cold food, I am very conscious of IT – we all are. Maose has already had it and Suj is having worrying symptoms. I use my hand sanitizer obsessively.  The girls are blissfully immune and eat what they like in the hotels. I wonder if there’s a protective gene.  

Pool and chill, then me and Maose walk out to the beach. A guard on the gate and an exotic shoreline hosts a line of fishing boats with palm matting living spaces. The hotel has a few sunbeds facing the sea but litter and a dead kid (baby goat) being pecked by crows puts us off. Up some steps a bizarre grey fibre glass rock topped by a painted statue of an anglo-saxon Jesus gazes out at the end of the malabar coast. Some women are making their obeisances on the front steps. Kerala is mostly catholic thanks to good old Vasco de Gama but Moslems, Hindus, Jews and Buddhists all live here contentedly together. 

Back into the hotel grounds and a day discovering the lovely, smiling, laid back waiter service. ‘So in about half an hour, would you like a cold beer?’ ‘Ok I’ll order some now.’ Food takes 45mins no such thing as ‘fast’ We change gear and realise it is because they go away and cook it fresh. We never discover where they keep the cold drinks though it must be a long way away. Fresh lime and soda water is worth waiting for. Sealed bottled water and NO ice....... Oh yes and ‘don’t get your own sunbeds or fresh towels sir it’s my job and the manager is watching.’ Pink Brits stand looking vaguely embarrassed while a very handsome dark brown youth in a spotless tracksuit demarcates and equips their sunbathing territory.

Eating out in the twilight on starched white tables by the pool a few mozzys buzz around but I am slippery with repellent oil. A beautiful young woman in toga style sari waits on and Kathakali dancers entertain us. He has all sorts of gold decorations, a giant skirt with a leg at each corner, green make up, bright red lips, kohl black eyes and white card strips like shells holding up his chin. His partner the woman/demon simpers believably and they sway to the drum beat of a recording on a boom box. I fill up with the realisation that I am here in South India, Wow.