Day 8 - Saturday 27th July

This morning we had to wake up especially early to embark on our day trip to Kanyakumari (otherwise known as Cape Cormorin). It is the southern-most tip of India where the three seas (the Bay of Bengal, the Arabian Sea and the Indian Ocean) meet. Our first stop was the Ghandi Mandapam; or for those of you not so fluent in Tamil, it means a gigantic marshmallow-shaped shrine. After leaving our shoes at the entrance we met our guide, a small man who had apparently been working there for 43 years. He then proceeded to give us a ten minute long lecture that was rather difficult to understand, albeit very heartfelt, and characterised by his insistence on silence from any chattering tourists. I was only really able to gather one thing: that on Ghandi’s birthday every year, a thin sunbeam would pass through a hole in the ceiling and light up the tablet commemorating his ashes. He also made sure that we understood this was not magic. After his speech, his sung us a prayer following a rendition of the Indian national anthem.

Before we went to lunch we were given time to wander the small seaside market to see if we could barter for any trinkets. I think it’s fair to say that this was the point where all the wonderful weirdness of India finally settled in. In one stall we discovered a strange looking toy: a baby’s head with plastered on eyes attached to a toy car. It’s definitely something that will be revisiting us in our nightmares. As Mr Hunt has been insistent on us wearing sunhats, Sasha and Kimberley decided to invest in the latest ‘designer headwear’: A bright plastic visor with integral sunglasses. All for 50p! 

In another stall we discovered an array of perfumes with names that can only speak for themselves. There was ‘Yahoo’, ‘Dot Com’, ‘Police Force’ and ‘Open House’. ‘Touch Me’ was a definite winner, its packaging included pictures of Michaelangelo’s Sistine Chapel.

I think if you ask any of us what the highlight of the day was we would without a doubt tell you that it was lunch, or ‘luncheon’ as Mr Hunt calls it. We ate at the ‘Hotel Seaview’, it being the only place in the vicinity with fish and chips that fulfilled Mr Hunt’s risk assessment requirements. The meal was an overall success, everyone delighting in the opportunity to eat some ‘English food’. We’d only just sat down when two young English men in vests strolled into the restaurant, a sight which seemed so out of place that Miss Fitzgibbon whipped out her camera and made many feeble excuses to turn around in their direction. 

After lunch, but before we were allowed time to digest, we were ushered onto a very rusty passenger ferry that was going to take us to two islands where the temple of Vivekananda and the Thiruvalluvar statue were located. Vivekananda was a 19^th Century holy man who lived in London for a while and wanted all faiths to work together for the greater good. The statue and the temple together felt like India’s version of the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island. Alighting, it immediately became apparent that the main subject of attraction, other than the attractions themselves, was us. There were cameras flashing at us from every direction, a few of us were even offered rupees and handed packets of biscuits in return for photos of their family. 

The walls of the temple were etched from grey and black marble. Unfortunately we weren’t allowed to take any photos and we were constantly being silenced every time we whispered. There was a mediation room with speakers with a recorded ‘Om’ on repeat. Outside we took photos next to the railings and Sabby felt like it was a picture perfect opportunity for a ‘Jack and Rose Titanic’ moment. She demanded that one of the boys should be her Jack but none seemed keen. Luckily Mr Hunt stepped up to the plate as you will see in the picture below.

By this point everyone was exhausted and the drive home offered an ideal ‘napportunity’. Even if the bumpy roads and ‘Grand Theft Auto style’ driving made it a tad difficult. 

By Nadia