Final days in Arambol

Final days

Our final days in Arambol flew by. At Classic Huts we were the only guests left. Restaurants and shops closed daily around us and Arambol reverted back to the Arambol I remembered from old. Rubbish, ever present when we had stayed before was now reduced on a daily bases as locals got control of the, until now, ever growing piles.

The beach was virtually deserted each morning, only the fishermen with their nets and the dedicated yoga master sat on the shores that weeks before had been bursting with activity all day and night.

Children played on the boats in the evenings,

school was out for summer/rainy season

and college groups down from Mumbai gathered for sports on the beach.

Sand creations were built once more,

sculpted and shaped on the wonderful damp sand as the tide slowly retreated down the virtually flat beach.

By digging down to the depth of about 18 inches water gathered allowing dribble statues to be built.

Statues that looked like Ganesh, the wonderful elephant headed God who overcomes all obstacles having been beheaded by Shiva (in a case of mistaken identity) only to be brought back to life with the aid of a donated elephant head!

Temples and bathing pools were built as people walked by,

stopped for a while and moved on.

In Arambol the sand is fine, the water recedes slowly

leaving perfect conditions for the imagination to run wild.

Steps became my facination,

steps and arches,

Peter built his pyramid

this time our walls did not crumble in the drying sun.

This time when we walked away, we left a kingdom complete on the sand. There were no dragons to destroy her, no sun could erode her chiselled angles, only the great floods that would return in six hours time would wipe the canvas clean.

Our days drew to an end in Arambol.

We walked our last walk, swam for the last time in the warm loving waters,

we gathered with the remaining few to watch the sun set to the beat of drums,

wind surfers flying across the waves like gigantic birds.

Our bags were packed, our huts were cleaned and with such a sadness in my heart I took Peter and the children away from one of the most beautiful places it had been my pleasure to live in.