With a coastal stretch that spans 1000 kilometres, Andhra Pradesh is dotted with specks of beaches. While the known ones – Vizag, Suryalanka, Chirala – get the crowd, there are others where only the locals venture out. Say, Perupalem beach.

Hoping to have the whole beach for myself, I took an auto out in the morning from the frenzy of Palakollu through blink-you-see-blink-you-miss villages. Getting to Perupalem Beach was a real journey: a battery of quacking ducks took over the road and with a hint of attitude deliberately took a zillion years to cover a few meters; giant cut outs of Tollywood (Andhra movie industry) heroes looking like dwarfs next to the never-ending streamer of lanky coconut trees; bright-coloured – some in blue, most in yellow - telephone booths with umbrellas punctuated the road; a road side shack invited me with a fresh brew of coffee.

The auto took a detour off the main road, and I could now smell salt in the air. Just before we hit the Perupalem beach was a weekly market where people were arguing over matters of absolute silliness, vendors calling out to sell sweets and spices and calendars with Tollywood stars as if people all around were deaf. The auto made its way through the tapestry of lazy buffaloes, zealous traders and argumentative villagers.

A narrow road that became narrower as the journey passed, finally, put us in front of a picture straight from a tourism brochure. Abutting the road was a Baptist Church – Velankani Mata, the second biggest church in South India, which in its light orange hue dominated the place. Hardly one hundred feet away from the Church, the waves pushed and pulled in a rhythmic dance, while tiny tots played in gay abandon, young couples stole glances and held themselves tight when a wave hit them, boisterous college kids showed their stunts on bikes and displayed their acrobatic skills, and groups of families shared meals big enough to last them a lifetime.

The Baptist Church aside, there were no tall structures, except maybe the silver oaks and a few sitting areas modeled along the lines of pagodas. An array of shops sold chips, mineral water and vernacular magazines, while the crows fought with the stray dogs over left over snacks. As I walked past the shops, I saw a crowd. At closer inspection it was a team of two  - with their mercurial skills - made seas shells transform into keep-sake souvenirs and they were attracting the hordes, writing names or symbols on the shells.

On a Sunday, the beach was as busy as a busy street, but I heard on other days it draws a blank. I recommend you keep that in mind if you want to spend time with yourself, hear stories wise fishermen folk, take a ride with them when they go fishing and take home a fresh catch.