The Forgotten Colours Of Eating
Returning to Cochin, I hoped to find the restaurant we used on our outbound journey.
Although its wash-rooms had been busy with mosquitoes – a hazard that afflicts lady diners more than men – my guests particularly enjoyed the food.
It was a forlorn hope:
None of us had any idea of its name and we now had a different driver.
As the hours passed and we all became increasingly hungry,
I realised just how impractical the idea was.
With solemn reference to “stepping into the same river twice” and embracing new experiences, I asked Solly, our driver, to stop at the first decent-looking eatery.
Just a few moments later, a sign advertising good food appeared. Solly slowed the car to cross the road and enter a car-park.
It was, of course, the same restaurant we had so happily patronised four days previously.
And the food?
Just as good as before.
Though, for the life of me, I still cannot remember its name..
Pictures taken in a restaurant somewhere on the road from Cochin to Trivandrum, Kerala.