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Tuesday, 11 November 2014

The Beau Geste of the Eastern seaboard

I've already established that the beach here in Puri is like a desert. And this morning I found out for myself just how much so. At some point I had to go have a look at Marine Drive, the Indian tourist end of the beach. It's about 2 miles from my hotel, and it's reminiscent of a typical British resort, with strings of hotels and cafes facing a wide stretch of sand. Except old blighty doesn't have cows on the pavement and beach has donkey rides instead of camels. 

The beach was packed with happy Indian holiday makers leaping through the waves fully dressed. That always makes me smile. 

Rather than haggle with another rickshaw wallah, I decided it would be nice to walk back along the water line. The sea breeze was pleasant and the water splashing around my feet cooled me down. But soon it wasn't practical to follow the water margin as the slope was to steep. Just then the sun grew hotter and so did the sand. With every step my end if town seemed to get further away. 

Halfway I was desperate for some shade, but none was available. No shacks, no shelter of any kind and no way back to the main road. Sipping at my now lukewarm bottle of water, and struggling between shading my head from the sun with my Beau Guest style cap or taking it off to let some heat out. I slowly approached the first welcome beach hut. 

A ramshackle place with next to no service and a chair that collapsed as soon as I sat down. The waiter when he did appear was more keen to offer me a joint than fetch a cool lemon soda. 

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