March
3
2010
By Greg Sacks
I've just come back from the edge—the edge of India, that is. Kanyakumari, or Cape Cormorin as the Brits called it, is located on the southernmost tip of the Indian subcontinent and has a Twilight Zone quality about it, part Hindu pilgrimage site and part Jersey Shore.
Despite the impressive Mother Goddess temple, after two weeks travelling in rural India I was there for the water slide. Sure—I've always been fascinated by the geographical fringes of our world, where curiosity leads the curious and margins attract the marginalized. Here in India, I wanted to stand with the Bay of Bengal, The Indian Ocean and the Arabian Sea all swirling about my ankles, while looking north at the entirety of this crazy country stretching out before me. As sublime as that moment was, it was eclipsed by my visit to Baywatch.
Less than two kilometers away from the the ancient temple, the sacred cows and the dusty streets, Baywatch beckoned. Even in his most intoxicated state, "The Hoff" could never have dreamed this place up. I paid the admission fee and was ushered first into the wax museum. The curtains parted, and I found myself face to face with Michael Jackson and his Bollywood buddy Shah Rukh Khan. In the next room Mahatma Ghandi was holding court with the likes of Sadam Hussein & Jackie Chan. The security guard grinned and gave me his bestest, proudest head wobble. This was weird and wonderful India at its finest.
Next stop was the bumper cars, followed by the spinning tea cups and the flying elephants. Each ride was abandoned, and we more or less had the run of the place until we arrived at the water park, where we found quite a scene going on. For the money shot,
Magical India. There is simply nowhere like it in the world.
Greg Sacks just returned from a magical Indian honeymoon, to an inbox almost as confounding as the country itself. Give him a day to recover before you flood his email here. If you're seeking a wormhole to call your own, check out our trip planning site.