R&R in Shrivardhan

January 22, 2011

Beach Festival Weekend

More kandapohe.... it's a tasty breakfast dish and must be healthy.

While tucking in at around 9:00am, a man on a Hero delivers fresh milk in small poly' bags and having some takes my fancy, but when my host brings me a metal cup full it's been boiled so I can't hold the tumbler.

Being Sunday the cyber cafe only opens for a couple of hours and after doing a bit in Cyber Space I stroll to the nearby north side of the main street armed with my camera as I noticed some old houses there yesterday that look photogenic.

I take a few shots of the front elevations, but there are few people around and it seems to have a different ambiance, which just goes to show how things are when it comes to talking photos - you never really know what the result will be.

Another street has some rustic homes where washing is hung out to dry and peole notice me walking around and soon want to know what I'm doing and don't mind posing for photos. The children inspect my bike.

The bikes that are parked outside some homes and stores are unlocked and typical of Indian-made ones, with sturdy frames and black paint, looking like they'll last a lifetime or more.

During late afternoon it seems like a good idea to visit the beach during daylight. The thing is huge and the tide is out.

There are some - around 10 - young women fully clothed splashing around in the shallow surf and they look like ants from a distance. Apart from them, the vast area is empty and the few rides that are here for what Brits call holidaymakers are standing idle.

The shopkeeper who gave me the dumpling told me he has a stall here manned by his siblings and I find it hoping they'll be selling the dumplings, but they aren't - although one next door is and I buy a pack of four. I feel disappointed when I eat them as they are not warm and freshly made like the first one was - these are dry and the pasty is quite pretty crusty. For the record, these things are called 'mordaka' and are a local specialty.

Later, as I walk past, the shopkeeper I know has arrived and insists I sit and sample a sweet dish which is like a chappati filled with beans of some type and laced with sugar. He serves it to me with a bowl of warm milk and tells me to dunk bits in. It's really scrumptious and hits the spot. It's called 'puranpoli'.

Tonight's festival programme is focused on dancing and it's gone 9:00 when I walk to the beach as I watch Premier League footbal - Fulham vs Stoke - on TV in my room till then.

The crowd is big and I don't bother trying to get near the stage and just walk along the sand and look at one of the large screens showing a video projection. The music doesn't sound very authentic to my ears and the performance is perhaps what BBC Radio 2 would commission.

After 30 minutes I drift back up the dark beach to where the fun fair rides are and take some long-exposure shots of teens crammed into seats on the Ferris Wheel with the females screaming as it spins around quite fast.

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