India, Kovalam,
12-04-1995.
I still smoke Un Monton De weed at night alone in my room and spend time En La Playa at sunset tripping on the blood-red sky while smoking my treasured Kerala weed, the waves that roll in as they have probably done for only Lord Shiva knows how long.
Long walks alone along the beach, old restaurants have closed down while new ones have become popular - partly becuase of their newly bought video equipment - my head full with home, full with thoughts of home, my friends and my foes, going back after nearly one year and six months in Asia.
Monday, April 21, 2008
Riding the waves.
India, Kovalam,
11-04-1995.
Every morning while I have breakfast, and for the rest of the day untill about dusk I wonder about the hilarious screaming of the "Idiots-Who-Ride-The-Waves". They swim up to a big wave - quite big waves here - and turn back swimming as fast as they possibly can just before being engulved by the wave.
If you turn back at the precise moment and swim fast enough you can end up "riding" the crest of the wave for some time. It is then, by tradition, you scream at the top of your lungs.
I tried it today and the increased level of adraline while "riding" the wave justifies a healthy scream.
The smell of roasting fish on the display tables in front of the beach restaurants, fills the nostrils of my nose while I sit on the beach in darkness and ponder about my imminent departure - and subsequent arrival - back home.
11-04-1995.
Every morning while I have breakfast, and for the rest of the day untill about dusk I wonder about the hilarious screaming of the "Idiots-Who-Ride-The-Waves". They swim up to a big wave - quite big waves here - and turn back swimming as fast as they possibly can just before being engulved by the wave.
If you turn back at the precise moment and swim fast enough you can end up "riding" the crest of the wave for some time. It is then, by tradition, you scream at the top of your lungs.
I tried it today and the increased level of adraline while "riding" the wave justifies a healthy scream.
The smell of roasting fish on the display tables in front of the beach restaurants, fills the nostrils of my nose while I sit on the beach in darkness and ponder about my imminent departure - and subsequent arrival - back home.
Saturday, April 19, 2008
A fly in my chicken fried rice.
India, Kovalam,
still late at night.
A fly had the "honourable" luck to land on my Chicken Fried Rice under preperation in the kitchen. I find the poor creature back in a heap of rice on my spoon 10 minutes or so later. His body fluids having coloured the rice around it a deep scarlet red.
The color reminds me of Rona`s menstrual flood that came out of her private female part together with my male member - both of it prematurely - only a few short weeks ago in our room in the Evergreen Hotel in Jaipur.
Our last attempt at Cupido`s game allthus ended abruptly and, in a way, disasterously
still late at night.
A fly had the "honourable" luck to land on my Chicken Fried Rice under preperation in the kitchen. I find the poor creature back in a heap of rice on my spoon 10 minutes or so later. His body fluids having coloured the rice around it a deep scarlet red.
The color reminds me of Rona`s menstrual flood that came out of her private female part together with my male member - both of it prematurely - only a few short weeks ago in our room in the Evergreen Hotel in Jaipur.
Our last attempt at Cupido`s game allthus ended abruptly and, in a way, disasterously
African death camps.
India, Kovalam,
10-04-1995.
Kovalam`s men in blue - In India their finest are actually dressed in khaki-brown - stroll aimlessly on the beach while Kasmiri businessmen try hard to sell chilums at inflated prices.
Gorgeous japanese ladies alone and on their own, devour me with their hazel-like eyes. I walk past them my head high on my last Kerala grass.
I try so hard to smoke it all that late at night and alone in my room I start hearing the screams of the african death camps I was at so incredibly long ago...making me realise maybe this wasn't a spiritual quest but search for oblivion of scenes that I will probably take to my grave...
In the sounds of the waves that roll in with the on-coming tide it starts to sound like something out of a horror movie. Oh, yeah, I can hear it all again very clearly now......crying babies and screaming mothers standing helplessly by while their infants starve to a miserable death.
All of that shit in the peacefull sounds of the waves just a mere twenty meters outside my room. SHIT I`M REALLY STONED NOW!!!
10-04-1995.
Kovalam`s men in blue - In India their finest are actually dressed in khaki-brown - stroll aimlessly on the beach while Kasmiri businessmen try hard to sell chilums at inflated prices.
Gorgeous japanese ladies alone and on their own, devour me with their hazel-like eyes. I walk past them my head high on my last Kerala grass.
I try so hard to smoke it all that late at night and alone in my room I start hearing the screams of the african death camps I was at so incredibly long ago...making me realise maybe this wasn't a spiritual quest but search for oblivion of scenes that I will probably take to my grave...
In the sounds of the waves that roll in with the on-coming tide it starts to sound like something out of a horror movie. Oh, yeah, I can hear it all again very clearly now......crying babies and screaming mothers standing helplessly by while their infants starve to a miserable death.
All of that shit in the peacefull sounds of the waves just a mere twenty meters outside my room. SHIT I`M REALLY STONED NOW!!!
Nearly going home.
India, Kovalam,
09-04-1995.
It has been well over five months ago sice last I wandered around in the small fisherman villages in this area, alone and sober untill I met Christina...
Strange and almost bizarre to be here now nearly at the end of my trip. A trip that toke almost one year and a half.
Strange feeling to go back to Amsterdam in just a few short weeks.
When I left I was fit working out at the Dojo every night, got my black belt Tae-kwondo only days before leaving.
Now, after having done the alternative circuit, following the hippy route around India, hanging out with them and trying to understand their way of life, their facination with the infamous indian charas and chilam culture, on a spiritual quest that had no right of excistence to begin with and was totally fruitless...
It`s almost over now, my last Kerala grass disappearing fast, time to shave off my full and bushy beard, cut off the pony-tail that has nearly reached my bum, time to return to Amsterdam and my "other" life.
09-04-1995.
It has been well over five months ago sice last I wandered around in the small fisherman villages in this area, alone and sober untill I met Christina...
Strange and almost bizarre to be here now nearly at the end of my trip. A trip that toke almost one year and a half.
Strange feeling to go back to Amsterdam in just a few short weeks.
When I left I was fit working out at the Dojo every night, got my black belt Tae-kwondo only days before leaving.
Now, after having done the alternative circuit, following the hippy route around India, hanging out with them and trying to understand their way of life, their facination with the infamous indian charas and chilam culture, on a spiritual quest that had no right of excistence to begin with and was totally fruitless...
It`s almost over now, my last Kerala grass disappearing fast, time to shave off my full and bushy beard, cut off the pony-tail that has nearly reached my bum, time to return to Amsterdam and my "other" life.
Friday, April 18, 2008
Kerala grass side effects.
India,Kovalam,
08-04-1995.
Smoking soft Kerala grass has got several side effect. Apart from getting mellowly high - not a bad feeling - it gives you gagging dry throat and serious attacks of the munchies. Not so good in India where the local chocolate is rumoured to stay in one piece only because of the huge quatities of oil added, now that cannot be very good for your health.
Insomnia, yet another side effect I suffer occasionally. But I spend my sleepless nights smoking yet more grass and sketching in my sketch book, eventually faaling asleep out of sheer exhaustion.
08-04-1995.
Smoking soft Kerala grass has got several side effect. Apart from getting mellowly high - not a bad feeling - it gives you gagging dry throat and serious attacks of the munchies. Not so good in India where the local chocolate is rumoured to stay in one piece only because of the huge quatities of oil added, now that cannot be very good for your health.
Insomnia, yet another side effect I suffer occasionally. But I spend my sleepless nights smoking yet more grass and sketching in my sketch book, eventually faaling asleep out of sheer exhaustion.
Thursday, April 17, 2008
A desperate expert.
India, Kovalam,
07-04-1995.
With the eye of a desperate expert I look at the lone women on the beach of Kovalam. Most of the day, though, I spend in my room trying to recover from my 57 hour train trip from Dehli to Trivandrum.
07-04-1995.
With the eye of a desperate expert I look at the lone women on the beach of Kovalam. Most of the day, though, I spend in my room trying to recover from my 57 hour train trip from Dehli to Trivandrum.
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