day11

Day 11: Pre Monsoon Rain

To say I was so tired last night I did not sleep that well, I woke every couple of hours in a sweat, and while laying there could hear every little noise being made by the birds in the trees outside, it really was that quite here.
I got up at 6.15 unable to sleep any longer, Nick was already up and sitting on the porch where I joined him to watch the sunrise across the backwaters.
There were already men in boats going about their daily work, delivering supplies to the people up and down this stretch of water. I went over to the kitchen to get a pot of hot water so we could have some tea before our breakfast, the old man was there and just about to start preparing the food.

We ate pancakes for breakfast, these were pancakes like I've never had before and suppose will never have again. It was not the pancakes you normally get in India. They were banana and coconut with some added spices and tasted great. Nothing was lumpy and the fillings had been ground down to a palatable consistency. The old man certainly knew a thing or two about cooking all right.

James was the name of the skipper of the boat that turned up at the jetty for eight. Being a Christian he thought we would like to see the Marian Grotto situated in the grounds of the Aryed Church a few kilometres up stream. It was a Sunday morning and the church was full to overflowing with parishioners attending a mass to fulfil their obligations, when we tied up at the jetty.
There was a small lake with one Chinese fishing net, I think this was purely for display, rather than being an actual working net. There was also a tree house in the grounds, which James made a point of showing to me. The grotto itself is built on some rocks behind the old church where a statue of the Virgin Mary stands proudly on top of the man made rockery, flanked on either side by stone cast angels, with some plastic wading storks placed at the foot of the monument to Our Lady.

I felt like I was intruding as we walked around the outside of the church, with a lot of the parishioners preferring to look out of the open church windows at us, rather than pay attention to what the priest was saying.
From the church we made our way on the boat, where we sat on our plastic patio chairs placed on the roof to allow us great views, while catching the sun at the same time. We sailed across the great Vembanad Lake landing this time on a little embankment where there was a small stone built house, with not much else.

James said that we could see some birds from here, obviously aware that Nick was interested after seeing him looking around from the boat deck with the binoculars.
He was pointing out birds in a paddy field behind the house, pointing his finger there's one, over there is another, and so on. Now I think I've got good eyesight, but this mans must have been absolutely brilliant, because I could not see a bloody thing. Even Nick with his binoculars was struggling to see anything, not that I was worried, because looking at migrating Great speckled wotsit's was something that interests me not.
There was one thing that interested me in this large open paddy field, and that was the pipe that was near the top of the riverbank and led into the field. This so as when the monsoon came and the water level rose, it was then drained into the field flooding that and helping to keep the level down in the lake.

Where the pipe came out of the embankment and into the field, it was covered with a fine net to catch the fish being washed through, this was quite clever I thought, although a lazy way to fish. Yet these people do not fish for enjoyment, they do it out of necessity.

The reason for our stopping here was to give us the chance to see some local people and how they lived here on the backwaters. The family living here must have been well used to tourists stopping off to see their way of life, as they instantly made us welcome by giving us tea and bananas for refreshment.
This little home on the backwaters was about the size of the average front room and housed a family of six.
There was a little garden to the rear where some beautiful flowers were being tended with loving care by the woman of the house.
We were met at first by a older man and two young girls who gave us some flowers as a welcome gesture, then the woman of the house brought us out some tea in stainless steel cups. We sat under the shade of a large palm tree drinking our tea and conversing with the old man as best we could, with James helping out interpreting for us. Another man joined the conversation after pulling up in his canoe. At first I thought he was just another inquisitive local, but, James told us that he was the son of the old man and also the father of the two young girls. I thought he was much to old looking to be the Son and Father, he looked more like he was the old mans brother if anything.

He was dressed in the traditional lungi and a blue shirt, both of which looked far to big to cover his very thin body that looked under nourished and had been ravaged, I would imagine, by all the hard work he undertook each day to make enough of a living to provide for his family.

His face was very gaunt looking and this appearance was not helped by the lack of teeth in his mouth making his cheeks seem so hollow. All this said and done, he was a most charming and very hospitable man, laughing and smiling all the time as we spoke, and I believe it was a very genuine demeanour he displayed.

He spoke about the things he done to make a living such as toddy tapping, fishing, coconut farming and rice growing. A little while after the mother produced a photo album that was full of picture and letters from tourists from around the world, who had previously visited this family living on a little piece of land, here on the backwaters of Alleppey.

When it was time for us to leave I offered the man some money for his kindness, he would have none of it.
He waved us away saying that he did not want anything in return for his hospitality.
I felt embarrassed and ashamed to have offered the money, but I really had nothing else to give them in the way of a gift. I gave the little ones some pens and sweets, then when the father was not looking I gave them the money, as they surely needed it a lot more than I did, no matter how proud they were.

The two girls were having their hair brushed by the mother as we boarded the boat again, "is it ok if we drop the children at their dancing lesson?" asked James. "Yes of course, it's your boat, do what you like" we answered.

James was being respectful knowing that we had paid for the boat, he probably thought we might not want to take anybody else on it. How could we refuse after these people had shown us such kindness?
After dropping the two young girls on the other side of the water we went on to another little landing spot by a small village. James showed us to the water tower that stood at least 100 feet high, telling us that it would be ok for us to climb the steps to the top of the tower, where if we wanted to, we could take some pictures of the area.

Both Nick and I climbed wearily weaving our way up the cracked and dangerous looking concrete spiral staircase all the way to the top, from here we were able to look out for miles over the lush green palm covered mangroves that form the backwaters. It was a climb well worth undertaking simply for the fantastic panoramic views on offer.

Back at the base of the water tank stood a little wooden shack that doubled up as a shop and tea stall. We stood here for a few minutes drinking some freshly made tea, much to the amusement of the local children who had gathered round to investigate these two white men who were a long way from home.
James was telling us that a few weeks earlier he had brought a camera crew from the BBC to this spot where they had also climbed the water tower to film.

Next James took us for a slow cruise around some of the smaller waterways where we were able to observe life from close quarters, passing women who were washing clothes, dishes, the children and sometimes themselves.
All of the children would wave as we passed, smiling as though their life depended on it. I threw a few sweets to those that were within catching distance.

I thought that the four hours passed by very quickly as we moored alongside the jetty of the Palm Grove, where Vijay was waiting to greet us back.

More tea and a lounge around in the hammocks before heading back into town for some lunch, which we ate at the same restaurant as the day previously. Once lunch was over we caught a rickshaw to the Alleppey beach, where the long sandy stretch popular for picnics with the locals looked less than inviting with lots of rubbish strewn all over the place. What is the point of the bins that were dotted about, when nobody uses them, and those that had been used were full to overflowing. It really annoys me when I see natural beauty spots allowed to fall into decline because of poor social behaviour, and bad control measures.

Had it not been for the commercial rubbish such as ice-lolly wrappers, crisp packets, soft drink cans and such like, this beach could have passed as presentable.
The pier that runs out into the sea here was in a bad state of repair and was almost certainly long overdue a coat or two of paint, and I dare say it had not had too many of these in it's 140 year history.

Set a fair way back from the beach is a large lighthouse painted quite nicely in red and white hoops, clearly visible from a long distance in daylight. I don't know if the lighthouse is much called for these days, as it was originally intended for the trading shipping that used to call here to pick up cargo.
Making our way across the square to view the lighthouse we had to walk through a couple of cricket games being played by the local kids, and as usual the games stopped while we answered the many various questions asked of us by the inquisitive young men.

The lighthouse was in a real juxtaposition where it stood on the other side of a railway line and surrounded by large trees in a flowered garden, not your typical seaside scene, in fact you could not even see the sea from here, never mind the ships.

Deciding to walk back to town along the beach, we set out with the dark rain clouds forming in the distance behind us, they looked far enough away so as not to concern us too much.

Five minutes along the beach a young man on a cycle stopped beside us to ask where we were going? In an almost threatening way. "What the F#*k' has it got to do with you?" Was what I felt like saying, as I was a little put out by his brash approach, but I never, instead I just smiled like the good Christian boy that I am and said "We are going to walk along the beach to town, why?"
He shook his head and said "It's going to rain, can't you see the dark clouds?" Yes, we had seen the clouds, but felt that we could get along the beach before they caught up with us, and told him this much.
"You won't get far, it's coming soon and will be heavy" he said, turning his bike around and cycling away, laughing as he did so.

To be fair the clouds were getting darker and nearer, and with the young man being so sure of himself and his weather forecast, we thought it best to heed his warning.
You can get a rickshaw within seconds in any town in India, they are everywhere you look so the plan was to get one just as soon as we saw rain. We walked back towards the main road ahead of the threatened rainfall, there was no rain ahead of us but we were facing strong wind that was blowing a gale without the rain.
The rain started, slowly at first, we started to run a little to get nearer the main road for a rickshaw.
I could hardly believe it, the first 4 or 5 rickshaws all had people in them and there were no more in sight.

"Where are you going?" asked the Indian man stood in a doorway sheltering from the fierce wind that was now blowing. "You will get one up there he said" pointing to the main road, "Ok thanks we said" Knowing we would get one there, but would we get there in time, the rain was now getting heavier and the thunder was getting louder by the second.

Our luck was in, a rickshaw with no on board came heading towards the beach, probably thinking he was sure to pick up a fare there with people trying to escape the rain.
He stopped as soon as he saw us, knowing we would be a far better fare than any he was likely to get from the locals further down the road, he could only charge them the official rate, he could charge us as much as we were prepared to pay.

His luck was in with two tourists who wanted to go six or seven kilometres back to the Palm Grove resort.
The Indian man who had been in the doorway spoke to the driver and then jumped into the front of the rickshaw also. I had no problem with that, he needed to get out of the rain just as much as we did, although it would have been nice if he had asked to share the rickshaw we were paying for.
He must have asked the driver to take him to the main road where he could get his own rickshaw, as this is what happened with us stopping just as soon as the driver saw one standing idle.

The man got out without a word, then bang! A loud clap of thunder and the heavens opened.
This was not heavy rain, this was deluge of water as though it was being poured from a bucket directly above our heads. The driver was a little sheltered from it as we drove, he at least had the luxury of the windscreen, we on the other hand who were sitting behind him in the open sided rickshaw were getting soaked as the rain seemed to come in from both sides with a vengeance.

We drove on without the aid of a windscreen wiper to see the way, the driver was driving on instinct I think, because I could see nothing out of the front and would think that he could neither.
I pulled out the soaking wet paper money from my pocket to pay the driver while still sitting in the rickshaw, then we made a dash for it down the narrow path to the Palm Grove.

Why we bothered running I still don't know, as we were soaked right through to the skin within the first 50 metres, and dodging the puddles was a complete waste of time as the whole pathway was virtually under 4 to 6 inches of rain. It was not sandals I needed on my feet now as they were slipping of my feet with each step I took. I needed a pair of flippers and a snorkel to reach the sanctuary of our cabin.

We stopped running after a little while, it was pointless. The only thing I was concerned about was my camera stuff, which was in a bag out of the rain and tucked under my shirt for added protection.

Vijay came to greet us wearing a green oilskin poncho to protect him from the rain. He wanted to know if we wanted anything. "You can bring us some tea please, when it stops raining"
"I will get you some now" he replied. "No wait until it stops raining, otherwise it will all get wet" I said.
"it is ok, it will not get wet" Vijay promised.
"OK then we will have some tea" we said, retiring into the room to get out of our soaking clothes.
We sat on the porch in our dry clothes watching the relentless fall of rain as it danced in the puddles that lay all around our cabin. The dog was missing, probably holed up somewhere else out of the rain.

I had to laugh at Vijay as he returned with the tea; he was trying to balance the tray of tea stuff in one hand while holding a five-foot wide parasol in the other, and was dodging the puddles at the same time.
At least the tea stuff was dry, and we were happy to just sit and watch the rain while doing what we do best.
It had been raining almost non-stop for two hours before it stopped just as suddenly as it had started. Vijay had told us that this was a pre taste of what the monsoon would bring in the following months, and that we would have no further rain today. This was good news as we had hung our wet clothes out to dry.

Dinner would be served this evening on our porch, Vijay had arranged to bring it over around seven.
Nick and I spent the rest of the afternoon just sitting on the porch, Nick concentrated on his bird watching, while I took some pictures and done a bit of writing.

The dog had come back to the porch and returned to its sleeping position now the rain had stopped. Funny little dog that he was, he did not beg or seek any attention, he was simply happy to lay there minding his own business.

When Vijay brought our evening meal, we informed him that we would be moving on the next morning after breakfast. He inquired about our travel plans offering to sort out a taxi for our next destination Cochin. He also offered to arrange for us to stay with his friends in Madras, but we preferred to stay in a hotel, as we would only be there for two nights, again he was able to recommend one that he had previously worked in.
Our evening meal was just as good as the previous nights, what made it a little better was sitting here on the porch under the stars in our tropical surroundings. We sat out here for the best part of two hours before I had to go to bed with the mother of all headaches! Must have been all that caffeine in the tea.
Just to be different Nick informed me that he was feeling really good, now there was a surprise!