After spending an hour arguing with Skype in the internet café I head off to explore the little village of Paloleum. The street we are staying on is topped by a T-junction. Numerous shops and businesses are obviously closed for the season. Empty lots and shells of building are scattered everywhere. The only places that are open are small shops like newsagents, travel agents, restaurants, accommodation and a barber shop. I head left to investigate a little further. Within a minute walking, its like traveling back in time. It reminds of my visit to Dublinia Viking tour. There is a collection of run down and modern brick house and guest houses and then amongst it lies wooden huts planted on red dirt grounds. Women dressed in the typcial Indian dress are preparing tea, brushing their pathways with wicker/twig swatches. Kids are running around playing. Beach dogs strolling across the road. The road way weaves to reveal more brick house. TVs sound from inside. Satelitte dishes sit on roofs. Different style bikes, scooters and motorbikes wizz by with their generic beep-beep. A woman sits on a path intersection, selling tiny fish from a wicker baskets. I stroll along, blown away totally by what I am experiencing. A truly magical experience. The simplicity. The community. The energy is... As I walk along I receive 100% reflection from my smiling and saying hello to the locals. It is something you have to experience to understand. It is very stilling and powerful. The roads continues to weave on. Dusks closes in fairly quickly. Further down mother and baby boars patter around one of the brick house front gardens. The roads comes to an end at a No Trespassing sign into a protected area. As I return along my 1km route, more women stand in the road chatting to each other. Nods are exchanged. Bright-eyed children wave from door, with beaming white smiles. There is an incredible sense of peace here.
By 9pm we are seated, cross legged, in the only real Italian restaurant in Paloleum. Stated to host an Italian chef. We order a selection of fine sounding meals and new selection of beers. One thing you will notice if you come to India is they have their own version of Diageo/Ryanair called Kingfisher. Its the number one beer supplier, an airline and they even produce water. Cashing in on the tourist business. The evening was thoroughly enjoyable with both food and conversation going down a treat. The only thing that took from it was the other locals having their meal that got on my wick. Munching away on my blood without my permission. We all left rubbing our bellies and strolled on down to the local. As we got closer to the bar the heavens opened and everyone ran inside. Aidan got inspired and decided to go for a run in it. After some minor effort he convinced me and we walked out in to the downpour. Within half a minute we were wet to the skin and loving it. We strolled down the beach in the dark with the towering beach light casting long shadows ahead of us. It felt bloody great. Aidan turned to me, placed his hand on my shoulder and said, “This is what it's all about.” I have to say, he was right. We took off our sandels and walked along as the sea washed over our feet.
By the time we got back a small group had gathered outside to drink on the beach. After five mintues or so I started chatting to an Indian gentleman. Can't quite remember his name, you'll probably hear this more than once over the next year. Anyhow, as anyone that knows me well, the conversation ranged from education to politics to poverty to taxation and the such. It He's in the area developing a piece of land, to place 5 to 6 one bed rented cottages on it. He has a number of businesses across India and some land in Darjeeling, in the north. He offered me to come along and help set up the school if i wished. It was exactly the type of chat I had being looking forward to since I arrived. I learnt a lot about the country and also how a businessman sees his own country. After knocking back another beer and chatting some more, he headed off for the night. We also met a few other new travelers that night, Glen and Will from the UK. They are very sound and relaxed. It was 4am before I knew it. The Irish of course were the last to leave. On our way back up the beach, myself, Eoghan and Peter decided to go for a walk towards the peninsula. The boys had beers I was wisely knocking back a litre of water. At night the tide goes out enormously. As we got near the end we noticed some people walking along in the dark. We continued on to where the river is and we were able to cross with the water only going up to our ankles. In the distance you could see the darker silhouette of figures moving around near the waters edge. Upon closer inspection they were moving in some form of unison. Its strange sight to see at 4am in the morning. It suddenly dawned on us that they were fishermen. This became more apparent with the outline of boat shadows on the sand. We passed them by and left them to there mysterious work. As we approached the island we could see thee channel intersecting it was now only 20 feet, nevertheless the water looked fairly fast moving. Crossing it was not really a consideration even though fairly tempting. As we walked back we decided to investigate the early morning workers a little closer. Now as our eyes were more accustomed to the dark we could see two separate groups of men sorting a net of some sort. A man walked out from the dark forest on our left and headed across our path towards the others. It was an amazing sight to see and a great insight into the villagers simplicity. Once again there is something about India that reminds me of old Ireland. There is a strong sense of community and working with nature. We stroll pack chuffed with our early morning find. Sleep comes upon us easily that night.
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