Amambol Part 2

Marker on way to Banyan, and a bit of extra graffiti 

Small Shrine at Arambol

As I'm trying to clear my lungs of the smell, and taste, of my feline flatmate, I decide to take a walk up to the small shrine at the top of the headland. The path up is reasonably well beaten but I'm unsure if that's purely for access to the septic tanks that seem to line the way. The shrine is little more than metal box with a few pictures of various deities inside, I relight a stick of incense which had succomed to the prevalent breeze up here, not that I'm complaining I appear to be breaking a sweat at the very thought of physical excretion in this heat (it was hitting 37oC today). There is another path that leads further up, or another that leads round to the bottom of the headland, as I'm feeling a little worn from my cleaning and climbing I go downwards to the aptly named Lakeside beach. This beach is much smaller and can't be accessed by road, as a result everything seems to cost a little more, all goods having to be carried, usually by head the 15 minutes from the main road at Arambol. There is a fresh water lake just behind the main beach which people rub the mud into their skin for the 'beneficial properties', what they benefit nobody can tell me, I give it a miss. A path behind the lake leads to a dense jungle, in which lies a large Banyan tree, I decide to go in search. The path seems littered with people either hanging out or actually living in the jungle, when I reach the Banyan, which is signposted with various forms of red marker along the way it appears to be inhabited by Russian 'new age travellers' a friendly enough bunch who appear to take pleasure in serenading those who make the journey to visit them. It is on my way back I have an encounter with the 'police', two local men produce a very amateur laminated police I.D. card and insist on checking my back for illegal substances, why exactly two plain clothed police men would be hanging around in the jungle I don't know, after I brief exchange I continue on my path being relieved of nothing more than my respect for the locals, for the rest of the day anyway.

Om on the beach