Woke up feeling wretched and took my anti-malaria pill with hot lemon which George fetched from the Shangri-La. The Aussie shanters (alcoholic drinkers, a shant being Britain, slang meaning a drink, usually a pint) emerged from their drinking den and wished us “Happy New Year”. I had another hot lemon and then threw up.
I was beginning to get a bit suspicious about my anti-malaria pills (Maloprim) as I always seemed to feel a bit rough after taking them. Perhaps they don’t agree with me. I took one of Georges pills as I wasn’t sure how much of mine had been adsorbed before I vomited.
We cleared out our room and left our bags in the Shangri-La storeroom to spend a melancholy morning on the beach. We sat in the Velvet Dawn Café and contemplated flying home to the U.K. from Singapore. This was a tempting idea at this moment.
A cringe-making family sprawled on the beach before us, resplendent in straw “Kiss Me Quick” hats. Sarong-clad macho’s strolled along the sand with perving local men as girls stripped off for a day’s serious sunbathing.
It was 20:00 hrs. and another murderous train trip was behind us. One and a half hours of purgatory from Trivandrum to Quilon. Packed solid in the carriage, standing like sardines in a tin by the stinking latrine. Nothing for it but to keep your sense of humour and try not to break down.
We had bid a sad farewell to Ambi and Chitwan at about 13:00 hrs. The Sergeant was also there to see us off from Kovalum and, as usual, he looked half-cut (drunk). “Goodbye Mr George, Goodbye Mr Steve”, he said shaking our hands. “Tell your friends Sergeant is cheap”.
We took our leave and trudged up to the bus stop. I felt light-headed and decidedly ill so the packed bus trip to Trivandrum was far from fun. I seemed to be a source of amusement for the local passengers because I was sweating like a pig.
At 15:15 hrs. in Trivandrum we went into the cinema to kill 2 hours watching “Herbie Goes Bananas”. It was a pretty banal film but had some good characterisation, especially the sadistic Ships Captain.
“Herbie Goes Bananas” is a 1980 American comedy adventure film and the fourth installment of The Love Bug film series made by Walt Disney Productions starring Herbie – the white Volkswagen racing Beetle with a mind of its own.
“Herbie Goes Bananas” has some nice location cinematography in the Panama Canal, Tijuana, and Guadalajara in Mexico. And it has two good scenes with Herbie walking the plank as per Captain Korman's orders and later on in a corrida facing a bull with Leachman and Korman inside.
In the Railway Station we had a pretty good all-in vegetarian meal for 4 Indian Rupees and sat by a fruit vendor’s hut to await the train. Dangling on the side of the hut was a length of smouldering sisal which people used to light their fags (cigarettes).
At least the railway stations in Kerala are clean, modern and efficiently run. Cheered up after the hideous journey with a couple of Sweeta’s, another Coca Cola rip-off with a fruity taste. “Be sweeter with Sweeta”, was the logo on the bottle!
On the train it is great fun at stations. People fighting to get on while others battle to get off and nobody giving an inch. An old lady who had decided to sit on the floor was trodden underfoot despite her protests.
We would be travelling on the British-made historic Quilon-Madras Mail railway route, covering a distance of 454 miles. The Madras - Quilon Mail, which started running in 1904, was one of the oldest trains in Indian Railways. In order to transport spices and condiments including black pepper, cashew, cloves and cardamom from the capital of erstwhile Travencore State, Quilon to Madras, the South Indian Railway Company had opened the Quilon - Sengottai line in 1902. This was the first line in Travencore State.
We boarded the train for Madras at Platform 3 after I had finished a packet of mouth-desiccating Kwality Marie biscuits (A Marie biscuit is a type of biscuit similar to a rich tea biscuit).
Our names and berth numbers were pasted to the side of the carriage along with our age and sex. Apparently, there were seats in one half of the carriage and bunks cum seats in the other half. Consequently, we had a barney with the occupants of seats 5 and 6 before we eventually found our bunks numbered 5 and 6. To "have a barney" is a phrase commonly used in London which means to become involved in an argument or fight.
We shared our compartment with a tall, pleasant well-educated woman with her two daughters who spoke English well. We settled down on our wooden shelves and read our books for a little while. We’d soon got back into a travelling frame of mind and were fairly relaxed. Our “holiday” at Kovalum was already a pleasant memory.
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