Since being in Kerala, and particularly here in Varkala, we've woken to the sound of huge bangs. Investigations reveal these to be coming from the nearby temple, and are a unique devotion to the gods known as vedi vashipadu (explosive devotions). We walk up to the temple to watch a man prepare the big bang, which he will do on receipt of a donation to the temple. The vedi man scoops gunpowder into a cast-iron shell, rams broken masonry on top, places the shell on the ground and puts a flame to it. He has about two seconds to get clear before the air is ripped apart by the thunderous noise. Multiple explosions are known as double or triple vedis, and depend on the number of rupees contributed by the devotee. The vedi man doesn't appear to have any form of ear protection, and we can't help but wonder how long the hearing lasts in this profession.

One of the downsides of the expansion of the tourist industry in Varkala is the amount of rubbish. It seems the public services, including rubbish disposal, have not kept pace with the increase in development. This isn't unusual throughout India - public services always seem to be an afterthought. The only municipal rubbish collection we've seen was in Kolkata and Mumbai. The authorities in Varkala seem to be trying, though it's totally inadequate. A number of women, dressed in corporate green and brown and wearing name tags, use simple brooms to clear the paths each morning. They sweep litter, leaves and dust aside into small piles which they then set fire to on the side of the road. Much of the rubbish doesn't actually burn and is subsequently blown back to where it came from. However they completely disregard the large piles of plastic and paper rubbish which accumulate in corners, ditches, gulleys, and other areas not immediately underfoot. There are no public waste bins anywhere. We notice quite a lot of construction rubbish simply thrown down the cliff. If there is no financial incentive to dispose of rubbish properly then no-one does, it seems.

Today is very much beach day, so like most of our fellow tourists we don't venture far from the resort, and laze about drinking cold coffee while we watch people go by. Unlike Goa, where tourists were predominantly British and Russian, here there are many more nationalities. However we hear no Antipodean accents at all.

In the restaurant in the evening we're sitting near to three women from Dagenham. They're the archetypal Essex Girls. One is heard to say "I do drink champagne, I like that Don Perrier". Another, "I can drink 12 to 14 Bacardis and still go for a run in the morning". We head for bed with our heads thumping; not from Bacardi, but from vedi vashipadu explosions at the temple.