The pig swore. Part 4.
Before going to contemplate the "landmark", went to the beach. Pulled by something painfully familiar and familiar. Vadik says: “Something is pulling through the canal! ». Something, I ask? It turns out that the term "canal" is used by plumbers. I have never heard anything like this in my life. The smell came from the river that today connected the puddle with the sea.
All sorts of filth floated on the shore in the water. It seems to be organic, leaves, sticks, but pleasant, still, not enough. We went away and bathed there. And surfers surf themselves, as if nothing had happened. When they got home, they washed with soap. Just fu!
Went on foot to the Warring Hole. We passed through a long village. One tuk-tuker offered to take us ten times. Last time even for free. But I explained to him that we like to walk. I learned this phrase.
Behind the village was another bay, the beach of which was no worse than the same Veligama, however, completely deserted.
A couple of locals, led by a relatively white woman in shorts, were clearing debris on the beach. Volunteers, or what? Even further, a local invited us to come and see his house. But we refused, citing limited time. Why us? Well, pour tea, which we do not like. Let's sit, shut up, because no boom-boom in English. Here if I poured beer - then, you look, and the language barrier would disappear.
Entered the next village. Our path was blocked by a puddle of ocean size. We had to overcome it with truly acrobatic dexterity, holding on to the fence of the yard adjacent to the puddle. After passing through a series of trays selling dry and fried fish, we finally reached the "landmark".
Tickets were bought at the box office for 250 rupees.
From somewhere came the deafening roar of the surf and the enthusiastic screams. Well, I think there's something to look at. We are getting closer.
The people, mostly local, crowd the handrails surrounding this very hole and scream. But nothing happens. The surf rumbled somewhere under the rocks. Apparently, the anticipation of the spectacle was better than the spectacle itself. Otherwise, why would I scream? Finally, a cloud of spray escaped the cleft in the rocks.
The people screamed even louder. And sho? Is that all? But no, after a while a small column of water escaped.
And then a long lull. In 15 minutes we did not see anything particularly valuable. Yesterday we watched a much more powerful surf absolutely free. After wandering for another 15 minutes, I took a picture of the termite mound
and peacock,
went to look for a bus to Dickwell. After passing through the whole village, drinking coconut for 50 rupees, went to the track, where they caught a bus.
It was Saturday. On this occasion there was a large market.
Bought very cheap beautiful yellow bananas and very cheap (30 rupees apiece) a few mangoes, went home. On the way to the supermarket bought shrimp and beer.
Soapy streams flowed down the path again. How clean people are! How much can be washed? By the way, about cleanliness. Leaving the plane for Colombo, we passed the front rows, which had previously been occupied by exclusively dark personalities. I was amazed at the pigsty they left on the floor. Everything that could be thrown on the floor was thrown. Even magazines from the pockets on the backs of those in front. This is beyond my comprehension.
Walking to the beach, they were relieved to note that the stinking river had ceased to exist. A stinking puddle was separated from the ocean by a strip of sand.
You can swim again without shivering in disgust.
Decided to eat a banana. But they turned out to be absolutely inedible! Despite the external beauty and absolute identity with those we had bought before, they tasted unsweetened, firm and tart. In, damn, bought! G. down, but cheap. Mangoes, by the way, too, turned out to be sour. Here, it seems to be soft and juicy, but not sweet. Apparently, we managed to buy the worst fruits from the whole market. Jewish happiness did not disappoint us here!
Since there were only two rooms in the house, and we practically did not cross paths with the Germans, the wifi was the most powerful here. So I could talk quietly on Viber with my daughter. She asks me if we will surf?
And to be honest, I didn't even come up with such an idea. Pleasure, it seems, and not particularly cheap. To take a board for an hour costs 500 rupees, and for the whole day - 1500. It is better to drink. To which my daughter reasonably remarked that it is possible to thump at home, but not to surf. And I thought about it. What are we really? Everyone rides like fools, and only we, the smartest, do some bullshit. We are sightseeing. After counting the cash, I came to the conclusion that we can afford to take the board without compromising our usual daily dose of alcohol. Only we have the last day in Dickwell tomorrow. And suddenly we like it so much that we don't want to leave? We will have to change all the plans. Well! So, let's change.
Said, done. In the morning we went to the beach. The stinking river took place again. Proudly passing the surf school, we went straight to the landlords of the boards. And they took it not for an hour, but for a whole day. What is an hour?
What should we, experienced skiers, master this board? We chose a beautiful board the color of fresh grass. Vadik was the first to swim. Swimming away, where there were no waves, he began to try to get to his feet. But in vain! I ran off him from the shore. The slightest attempt to change the lying position to, at least, sitting, invariably overturned him in the water. After struggling for a while, he crawled ashore. It's my turn to be disgraced. But all my pathetic attempts to curb the rebellious board ended just as ingloriously. Neither I nor Vadik ever managed to stand up. Damn, and how do they do it? I have never seen outspoken teapots like us. Everyone skated, some worse, some better.
One guy even managed to run around the board here and there. Well, straight, virtuoso! Then only I appreciated the picture on the boat. Yeah! It is not easy to become the highest link in evolution!
Everything, enough, suffered!
I got out of the water. And time has passed well no more than an hour. Oh, 500 rupees would be enough to understand that surfing is not ours. So what to do with this green happiness now? Well, at least you have to take a picture.
gore-surfer
We took pictures, played cards on the board. They got tanned. AT! Our Germans, it seems, know how. At least I saw a neighbor with a board at the ready. They already have to wake up. She went to the villa, where she met the German youths who were about to leave. As best I could, I tried to tell them that I wanted to give them my board for free until the end of the day. She's useless to me. I don't know what they understood from my set of words, but they said "Okay! ».
Returned to Vadik, guarding the board. Played more cards. Finally, our Germans have appeared, but that's a bummer! They were already walking with backpacks behind them. Apparently, with the ends. Telling us “Enjoy! », Waved pens. We failed to make them happy.
We waited a little longer, hoping that at least some compatriots or allies would come. They didn't come. After handing over the ill-fated board, they continued to lie down. And then a brilliant idea came to my mind. It's all in the board! We took some wrong board! Can't it be the case with us? What are we, completely crooked (or rather crooked)? This board was too healthy and thick. It was necessary to take another, thinner.
On this optimistic note, the topic of surfing was closed to us.
Went to the village, intending to buy shrimp. But they were not in the supermarket or on the market. But the market sold barracuda. Ironically, the trader did not try to beat the price, but did not give up. Said 600 per kg. When I started checking the gills, it turned out that he had this barracuda, like Matroskin's gutalin. He opened a box of ice and let us choose any. No one had any boxes of ice in the Halle market.
Having chosen a medium-sized fish, we returned with the catch.
Some cat was incredibly lucky that day. We fed her all the fish waste. The night before, someone had broken into the kitchen, but for some reason the papaya was cleared of debris, and the fish bones were just lying on the floor. Did the monkey climb? They seem to sleep at night? Or cats here, mostly vegetarians?
They tried to fry bananas, since they are not suitable for eating raw. Well, that's it. Those who fried, we somehow ate. But the remaining raw was simply left in the refrigerator. The Germans, by the way, even left a pineapple. Maybe, too, tasteless caught.
Instead of the Germans, an elderly couple, presumably British, arrived in the evening. The man, sitting in the hall behind the laptop, clicked on the keys with all ten fingers at machine gun speed. I thought only I could do that. A writer or something? Corresponding Member?
And the peacocks decided to get lost in the flock today. Are they leaving?
The next morning we had to go on. I woke up early refreshed. I went to see the dawn, since the sunset did not work out. But the dawn was similar to the sunset, only on the other side.
But the surf!
"Waves rolled through the pier and fell down with a swift jack. " You can't write better than Lyapis. And who said that a jack can't fall fast? Looking where to drop it. Very even can.
After breakfast, we went to say goodbye to the ocean. Of course, there was no river. And it smelled exclusively of the ocean. Well, of course! We have to leave! The law of meanness in action.
I've been thinking for a long time about the question, what kind of bullshit is this? Really, sewerage or what? I think that, however, is unlikely.
Most likely, it's just a lagoon, at the bottom of which accumulated silt from the decay of any organic matter. And if it's Mr. but do not touch, respectively, and it will not stink. But as soon as the waves begin to overlap through the strip of sand, the bed of the stinking river is formed. The process of leaching sludge from the bottom of the lagoon begins with the same waves. Mulyaka and other nonsense rush into the ocean, "fragrant" not childish. But these are just my inventions. I came up with this to calm myself down. It is unpleasant for me to think that I spent 4 days floundering in the sewers. I repeat that there were periods of absolute apathy. Perhaps later, when the season finally begins, the ocean will calm down completely and the waves will not reach the stinking puddle. How to know!
Anyway, that morning we finally enjoyed the ocean to the fullest. Then our path lay deep into the island.
