Sea Here

April 13, 2019 / Reading time: 1 minutes

Rode to Kappad in the evening. If you can hear Gama in the background, it is either young bearded pony-tailed folks playing beach football in slow-mo or you might want to get your head (preferably with ears intact) checked.

Every time I am at the beach with the intent of catching the moment the sun sets, something significant distracts me seconds before that happens. This time it was a regular crab walking in sideways into its bunker like the thousand other regular crabs Iā€™d been watching the whole evening. Yes, exciting evening. I was probably sat on some of their bunkers too; choosing to align myself to the smoothened parts of the shore rather than the rough-and-tumbled. Next time; always a next time. The ride back was significant in that I passed three (3) Lycra-clad gentlemen on hybrids wearing fluorescent helmets and pained bicyclist expressions appropriate for a late evening ride. Not really. It was significant because thanks to the elections, the traffic was standing still and I got to reenact select scenes from Premium Rush. Not really. It was just that night had fallen by the time I reached the plantain plantations and the LED headlight illuminates banana leaves in glorious FullHD ghostly pallor. Add to that the slow breeze and a surprising lack of freewheel noise (need to degrease that chain soon), and that is roughly twenty-something seconds of bliss.