is a sign on the wall of our favorite restaurant here in Gokarna, but really is the mantra of every restaurant I’ve been in for the last three months…that is, except for a few tourist-oriented cafes in McLeod Ganj. Last night we tried yet another of the charming beachfront eateries with their palm-braided thatched roofs and individualistic wall hangings, lounges (for those who have no other place to sleep), and lights. This one was aglow like a Christmas tree and had alligators carved or painted around the wall. Like all the others it’s open-air and a gentle wind flutters the decorations and hanging lamps. The floors are sand, wonderful on the feet, and not a few cuddly dogs sit on your toes, hoping for a hand out. No cows. They only bother you in town.

We’ve eaten mostly vegetarian, with a freshly caught fish or two for my friends (remember, I’m allergic), but last night we found chicken on the menu. Oh boy, what a treat! A few minutes into a fabulous homemade soup we heard the distinct cackling and screeching of a chicken, and an obvious struggle, followed by silence. Omigod, what have we done? Talk about fresh. An hour later, I kid you not, there was chicken sweet and sour (the Chinese have gotten to India big time) and Marsala. Fortunately, for me, it was so spicy that I substituted spinach dal and didn’t have to feel any more guilty than I did about the fate of the chicken.

Today, I finally felt strong enough to wander around the side streets of Gokarna and photograph the temples, bathers, and faces as varied as a painter’s palate, You have never seen so many facial markings, or different ways of dressing, or brilliant colors of saris, worn by women even when they are doing manual labor. Even the sadhus, the holy men near the temples, have only their long hair and beards in common. Their dhotis show imagination and no one face is similar. I also was thrilled to see so many young women, some with small children, run their own shops. They are well-spoken and as beautiful as the handcrafts they sell. If only I had more room in my pack!

I met with the Zontines for lunch. We were able to get a table outside, so could watch the throngs of pilgrims coming down the main drag from the bus station to the beach, and, the downside, be accosted by beggars. But what is most disconcerting is to sit with a cow’s wet nose three inches from your chapatti, looking at you with eyes even more soulful than the beggars. They just keep coming a little closer and when you finally remove one, another takes its place. The secret is to wield a large stick and threaten it. This is given you by the waiter. But the cows know who are the pushovers and pay no heed. Upshot: we’ll eat inside and forgo the passing parade.

We’ve become friendly with several of the young men, who use sewing machines to embroider T-shirts and hangings in an open-air shop. They hail us as we pass by, and are able to keep their breakneck speed going as we chat. I’ll have some pictures for you later. One man in particular could out- shine anyone I’ve seen on Bollywood, but, instead, works from early morning until after 10 P.M. every night…for very little money. It’s a whole different world over here, and it’s hard to reconcile with our privileged life. To count your blessings is cliche, but true, nevertheless.

As I was sweeping out my cabin with a short, homemade broom, which is just a bunch of stiff straw held together by a rope tie, I wondered why some enterprising person hasn’t introduced tall brooms, also of straw, but better made, into India. Everyone leans over, which is bad for the back, and the straw keeps falling out. And the dirt just gets spread around. Does anyone have any ideas about this? I’m sure the very rich have brooms, but what about all the little ladies I see bending double as they use these inadequate “sweepers.”

Tomorrow Gullvi and I head off by sleeper bus (Volvo, supposed to be comfortable) to Hospet and then to Hampi, once the seat of the Vijanagara Empire, and a major center of Hindu rule for 200 years–from 1336…although there may have been a settlement as early as 1,000 years before then.

I’ve never been on a sleeper bus, but I know it beats the local vehicles. Wish me luck. It won’t be easy to leave this seaside paradise, but all good things must end…or something like that. And it does get brutally hot at midday. I’m looking forward to heading north, after Hampi.

Hey, the snow in the East sounds marvelous. Maybe it’s time to buy those skiis!



Filed under India


  1. Meg,
    I have ten inches of snow and unable to get out. You must be loony to want snow. It is in the twenties evey night and only about 32 by day.
    I was very fortunate to have had a ten day cruise to the Bahamas, swimming in warm blue water and kayaking and seeing the colorful fish on the reef. Already I wish I were back there. It seems you found a fun place on the beach too, just right to mend your leg. Tell me about the “sleeper bus” Dont fall out this time. I do so enjoy your blogs
    God Bless

  2. Lynne

    I really enjoy reading your blogs, particularly when the weather is frigid and the snow piles up. We have not had as much snow as NY and NJ-we’re too far north! But the light comes later each afternoon and the winter wonderland is just beautiful. I have a new cat named Callie-I know you have a granddaughter with the same name! A cat isn’t a dog but she is a lot of fun and I’m very glad I got her. She’s a lot easier to pat than the cows you write about. Does you leg still hinder you a bit? Are you going to any other countries besides India?

  3. Susan

    Hello Aunt Miggie, I am glad you are somewhere warm. We are having a blizzard right now. I went out and shoveled snow and it did not do much good. I looked outside about 10 minutes later it looked like I had not done a darn thing. School is canceled tomorrow and I am grateful for the day off. Enjoy the rest of your trip and stay safe! I hope to see you this Summer when I take the girls to camp. They are both going this year. Rich and I are taking a much needed vacation together. : )

    • Ruth Abel

      Hi Meg, I get such a kick reading your stuff. It’s endlessly interesting. I look forward to talking about it when I see you in March. Safe journey home, I can’t imagine that you really want to have to deal with all that snow, or whatever they call that stuff that we don’t know much about in California, except in memory. I have no need to do more shoveling ever again. I did my share. Enjoy the rest of your trip.
      Love, Ruth

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s