Winding up at Karwar

The evenings were invariably filled with group activity- Pictionary, Taboo and Dumb-charades. The games brought with them the inevitable clashes. Each team accused the other of cheating (and prospering)!

If it was Pictionary, the opponent got the answer only after the last grain of sand had drained. The accusation was always stoutly contested by the other side with the version that the grain was actually in transit! In the absence of the third umpire and UDRS, there was no one to pronounce a balanced judgement.

Taboo had other issues-  The contestant swore that he never uttered the "taboo word" though it was crystal clear to some that the first syllable was articulated.

Dumb-charades tied up folks in knots. To ensure that the opponent stumbled and never cracked the phrase, all sorts of obtuse movie titles were suggested. Whoever can mime “Albert Pinto ko gussa kyon aata hai” or mono-syllables like “Tashan” and “Aakrosh”?

The score-keeper was forever making calculation errors either accidently or with intent to declare his side the winner.

If couples were in the same side, they had a regional code and cracked all clues with ridiculous ease. If they were in opposite sides, they fought tooth and nail and used language which could make a sailor blush!

Some kids had evidently done a different kind of homework- they had actually memorized words on all the cards.... rendering it a no-contest!

The sessions were no doubt interesting despite the occasional flare-ups!

The cottages faced the ocean. The backyard had a sit-out area with cane chairs. It overlooked a little lake rimmed with trees supporting some hammocks and hills in the distance. Some more houses were being built on the far-side and workers went about their job with more than usual languor!

Spent some time kayaking in the lake. Initially, the kayak had a mind of its own and spun around or got caught in the weeds on one side of the lake.

Gradually, it became easy to coordinate the strokes of the oars and get some traction. Folks tried the pedal boat and seemed to enjoy it. Kayaking was supposedly not a heavy-duty water sport, but I still managed to get the clothes wet......

Which brings us to the last point... if you're on a beach-trip, you will run out of dry clothes. It's totally unintentional- all that you set out to do is to watch the sunset from the sands. But you can't resist wading into the water- initially, only to wet your toes. You fold up the trousers till the knees (hideous!) and allow the water to lap against the feet. Unobtrusively, the trousers slip down and the ends are now wet. Very soon, you've thrown caution to the winds and waded deeper into the water and completely ruined your last pair of dry trousers... with 3 more days to go!

From this point onwards, you're a social outcast....a walking sand sculpture.. a trail blazer.... with puffs of sand strewn around with every step.......!

Tomorrow, we leave for Goa. Ciao!