Feeling a bit weary (it’s tough being an intrepid international traveller type chap/es) so we went for a “Synchronised Massage”. No, it doesn’t mean that you get done at the same time. And yes it was a real massage.
They took me into a little dark room and stripped me down and give me a handy little thong (aka a piece of string with four sheets of toilet paper dangling from the middle) which you wrap around your and lift between your cheeks to keep your tackle all nicely packaged.
Then they put me on a black PVC table thing (Hmmmm .... nice!) and as I began to lie down I noticed the black wrist bonds hanging from the roof ... didn’t get a chance to try those this time though. Then they dumped a big blob of hot, treacle smelling oily stuff and then two people rub it into your body with synchronised movements (... that the synchronised bit). Apart from being of constant fear of being jettisoned from the table on a wave of oil and having to grip the side of the table with white knuckles, it was actually quite relaxing. Bit embarresed about looking like a raspberry in the muddle of all this, what with all the mozi and bed bug bites. (euch! I know!). Had a steam bath and a shower ... but I was finding oil all over the place for the next few days.
That night we went to see a Kathakali in what seemed to be the local village hall. There was a huge family raffle going on before the display and people were going up to get their prizes ... they love stainless steel in India – stainless steel egg poachers, stainless steel garden furniture etc etc.
The Kathakali is an ancient form of dance / theatre. Bizarre and fantastic costumes with no a small amount of make-up involved. Difficult to explain but it’s a combination of bonkers facial expressions and sign language type hand movements which conducted the accompanying drums and cymbels. Even with a trascript of the events we hadn’t got a clue what was going on. The first hour was interesting. The second hour was challenging. The third hour was murder. We had to escape.
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