Day 13

Day 13 : Backwater tour

We were up around six thirty, the alarm call was the noise coming from the parade ground, and it wasn't some hyped up sergeant barking out drill orders to soldiers marching around. There were around one hundred kids already out there doing their football training, while on the far side a couple of impromptu cricket matches were also taking place.
This many young boys screaming and shouting at the top of their voices made the alarm clock redundant.

Mind you we had to get up early this morning anyway, as we were to be picked up at 8 to go on the backwater tour we had booked the previous day.
There was no need to leave the guesthouse in search of food this morning as we had our breakfast upstairs in the owner's front room; this was part of the package thrown in with the backwater tour we were going on.   Toast and jam, with some bananas and mango were on offer, and we ate it all, not because we did not wish to offend our host, we were bloody hungry this morning for some reason.

I watched the kids for a while as we waited for the jeep to turn up, the cricket matches were in full flow and quite exciting to watch, as these kids certainly knew how to play the game.

There were already six people plus the driver in the jeep that turned up, so things were always going to be a little cramped on the hour long journey from Fort Cochin to the starting point of the tour.
The six people were all together and strangely they spoke in English most of the time, even though they were Spanish. I don't think this was for our benefit as after we had exchanged greetings we never said another word to each other for the whole journey.

A young lad of around 17 or 18, introduced himself by telling us that he was to be our guide for this trip when the jeep pulled up by a roadside in the middle of nowhere. He spoke quite good English, although you had to listen hard to understand him.

First off he took us through some trees and onto a path that led down to the backwater via a small village that was home to the locals who worked in the coir industry. He pointed out the flowers and fauna that he thought would be of interest all along the way to the landing stage, where we were greeted by the two men who would row and punt the long boat we were soon to board.

These two men really looked the part in their lungi's and the turban headgear they wore to keep the sun off. I'm not sure that turban is the right name for these cloths that were very similar to the check tea towels found in most kitchens. Both men were getting on a bit, but neither had an ounce of fat on their muscled bodies. The man at the front had hands that were calloused from years of holding the hand made wooden oars of the boat as he went about his everyday life here on the backwaters.
I noticed there was no rowlocks on this boat to hold the oars in place, this was done by the notches worn into the wooden frame from years of use, and of course a length of coir rope. There seems to be no end to the use you can put coconuts to.

The seating arrangement on this long narrow vessel was with everyone sat one behind the other on eight plastic patio chairs, and the two boatmen at either end to punt and row. The Spanish group boarded the unstable craft first with none of then electing to sit at the front? Maybe they were scared they might have to assist with the rowing of the boat. This left it up to Nick or I to sit there. I chose the front seat as it would not only be handy for taking photographs, but also meant I was the last to clamber on.
The downside was the guide sat just in front of me on a cross member and kept talking to me, this was no hardship other than it was hard to understand him so close up and meant I had to keep alert when he opened his mouth. But, to be honest I just kept nodding where I felt appropriate, even if I didn't understand him.

It was only just after nine when we set off, yet the sun was already turned up on full heat making me sweat   like a pig again. And what with the scorching heat that it was giving off, it felt more like midday.
The boatman at the front was constantly mopping his brow as he worked his heavily tanned body hard to row us lazy tourists up stream.

When I say tourists, you tend to get this impression of loads of these boats ferrying camera-wielding tourists around on sightseeing trips, the truth was that we were the only boat that could be seen out on this vast expanse of water, surely I thought, no one was going to come later when it really got hot?

Our first stop off point was a coconut plantation where we were able to witness the process that takes place. There was not any kind of automation here, with every stage being done by hand.
First off the husk is torn off and put to one side and the coconuts thrown into a large pile, from here a couple of men were picking them before splitting them with swift blows from the large cleavers they held.
This looked very dangerous with them holding the coconut in the palm of one hand, then striking it with the cleaver. No one seemed the slightest bit bothered that they might chop off their hands should they miss, or strike through too hard.

These men wore no footwear either; they were simply crouching down as they chopped merrily, and then poured the milk from the open coconut onto the floor. Apparently this milk was not of good enough quality to use, as the coconuts were not fully ripened. The milk formed a large puddle, which these guys were more than happy to wade around barefoot in all day.

The split coconut halves were then laid out on open ground to dry in the sun, before the flesh was scrapped out. This job was done by a couple of old men who looked as though they should have retired years ago.
Behind the men splitting the coconuts was a huge pile of old shells that would be used as fuel by the local people. Nothing goes to waste in the process, apart from the milk of these unripe ones.

We were then introduced to the boss of the place, who was sat on a chair in the shade of the small wooden shack, that I presume was the office.
This old man was doing absolutely nothing, and looked as though he had done nothing for a long time by the size of him. He was a bit on the chubby size compared to the rest of them, which I guess is the bonus you get when you are the boss. He showed us some handicrafts that had been made from the coconut husks and shells, there were things such as rings, cups, ashtrays and carved animals.

Next we walked towards the rear of the plantation into the little village situated along the bank of a smaller waterway. Here we found some of the younger women from this community who were spinning the coir into thin strands of rope, on machines that were no more sophisticated than an old bicycle wheel attached to a foot pedal.

This was definitely the most interesting part of the trip as it gave us a real insight into village life on the backwaters. With the houses being no more than basic adobe style with palm leafs for roofs, it felt as though we had arrived here in some kind of time machine, and had been transported back at least one hundred years.

This part of the village was completely surrounded by water and could only be accessed via a small road bridge, or landing stage for one of the small boats. Older women who were not involved in the spinning of the coir were going about their own daily chores, such as washing and cooking. They were totally focused on the job in hand, and as such seemed totally oblivious to our group wandering around in their backyards.

I was taking a picture when one of these old women looked up, then looked away just as quickly as if I was not there. Maybe she was just so used to people snooping around her village that I was just not there.
There were also small children running around, dressed in what were no more than rags, yet they seemed really happy as they played alongside the chickens, wild pigs and dogs that roamed freely.

Our guide pointed out the various wild fruits that grew here, these include wild pineapples, bananas and some strange looking fruits growing down off trees, these were a type that I had seen before in Varkala and were about the size of melons.
The two boatmen had by this time manoeuvred the boat up this small side canal that ran alongside where they picked us up to continue our trip deep into the backwaters. This stretch of water we were now on was no wider than about four or five feet in places. We passed many children who were swimming or just came to the edge to watch us as we passed by. Nick even got to see a few more birds, especially the various types of Kingfishers, which were plentiful along this stretch.

The two boatmen found it very heavy going as they punted the boat through these narrow waterways, this in particular was down to the amount of water Hyacinth that is choking the waters. This plant is not native to India and has been brought into the country at some stage from the African continent. It has now become a great concern to the local community as it has started to spread at an alarming rate, and they just can't seem to stop it.
We crossed another lake where we landed to look at the fields where the orchids used in the local Temples are grown; only there were none to be seen! Although the young guide did manage to point out the bud of one in the far distance. There was another tourist boat moored here that was carrying some Indian tourists, also on the lookout for the invisible flowers.

The boatmen had brought a sack of coconuts with them, in order to give to us as a refreshing drink. The man who was cutting the tops of them was very adept with his large knife, cutting the tops off like you would a boiled egg so that we could drink the juice with a straw.
I think he got a little too complacent while doing this; I heard a gasp from one of the Spanish girls and looked around. Nick said "I think he has cut the top of his finger off!"
Everyone just stood there in disbelief looking at this boatman who had not made a sound as he sliced through his finger.

It looked worse than it really was, there was blood pumping from the cut to his finger and he really did not know what to do! This is where my first aid training came in handy! I went to see what extent of damage he had done to himself. The cut was quite deep, but not life threatening and his finger was still all in one piece. I gave him a tissue from my pocket and showed him how to stop the blood from pumping by hold his finger aloft and squeezed tightly around the cut.

Luckily for him I had a few large plasters and a wet wipe in my camera bag, which meant after cleaning the wound I was able to wrap the band aid around the cut and at least stop it from further infection.
He seemed genuinely pleased with himself when I gave him another couple of plasters to use later if the bleeding continued.
I suppose his finger could have done with some proper medical attention in the form of a couple of stitches, but I dare say he would get by without them.

We continued our very leisurely cruise up and down the waterways, passing some very pretty little small holdings that were dotted about in the communities.
After around three hours we returned to the place of boarding and I for one was glad to get off the boat, not because I had not enjoyed it, more because it was simply so hot and there was very little shade anywhere out on the waters.

It was quite obvious that the boatmen were looking for some kind of gratuity as these smiling men helped us off the boat. The Spanish group simply thanked them and walked away. Nick and I could not be so heartless; especially as we felt they had done a good job and would probably only get a small cut from the tour agent. We thanked them and gave them 50 rupees for their trouble, figuring anything is better than nothing!

On the ride back to Fort Cochin the Spanish guy who I was sat next to kept nodding off. Nothing wrong with that, except that he was not resting his head on his girlfriend who was the other side of him, he kept plonking it on my shoulder!

This can be a little annoying after a while, so from then on every time we went over a bump in the road I tensed my shoulder, which must have felt like a brick as his chin rose and then smashed back down onto it.
This seemed to do the trick for a couple of minutes at least, as he woke up with the jolt each time. It's sad I know, but it amused me for most of the journey home and I was actually hoping that after each jolt it would not be too long before he dropped off again.

The morning cruise on the backwaters and the journey back in the heat had both of us feeling a little jaded on our return to the guest house, what we needed now was a sleep.
An hour seemed like only five minutes, but that's always the way when you lay down with the intention of a little nap. We had to reconfirm our flights home as we did not want to have a repeat of our last experience when we turned up at the airport to go home. The Emirates don't have an office in Kerala, so their ticketing is taken care of by Air India who act as their agents.
The owner of the guesthouse had told us that this was the only airline he could not reconfirm by telephone, and that we would have to go into Ernakulam to the Air India offices to do this.

We caught a rickshaw to take us the fifteen kilometres after negotiating a price first; with the driver assuring us that he knew exactly where it was.
As always he was lying and didn't have a bloody clue, but he was not going to give up this fare no matter how many lies he had to tell.   We eventually found it, with the driver wanting to take all the praise for getting us there, when in reality we gave him directions from our map reading!
The driver wanted to wait to bring us back, but one look in the offices showed that we might be here for a good while, it was totally chock a block.

Every available seat in the office was taken, with at least another fifty people standing around just waiting their turn for a seat, never mind actually seeing someone to sort out their tickets.
At the entrance door was a desk where a very stern faced woman sat, her job was purely to log your name and thus give you a place in the queue! I gave her my name and asked if I was in the right place for Emirates reconfirmations. She told me that there was no need to reconfirm Emirates flights, striking out my name as she gave me a dismissing glance the lady called out "Next!"
This was great news to us, but also a bit of a bummer as we had let the rickshaw driver go, but then again it would be no trouble to find another willing one to take us back.

Ernakulam is a big busy place where everything seems to move at twice the pace of anywhere else in Cochin. We decided to take a look around and get some lunch on the way. It was not to long before we had given up on the idea of exploring this hectic town, choosing instead to dive into the first restaurant we found to escape the mayhem.
It was a good choice with the meal we had being very good and great value for money. We had a couple of dishes with drinks that came to less than a pound for the pair of us.

I tried to get Nick to ride one of the local buses back to Fort Cochin, he agreed at first as the experience would be good and it would after all not be to long a journey.
We waited at the bus stop as one bus after another turned up packed to the rafters. We caught a rickshaw!

Back in Fort Cochin we made our way onto the beach front by the Chinese fishing nets to watch the men at work, before moving further along towards the old fort where we stood watching the dolphins swimming close to the shore. Here we were again offered some drugs, do we really look the sort who take drugs? I thought to myself.

Another big crowd was out in force on the parade ground when we returned. This evening's game again featured the Police, who this time were playing against the Electricity board. Things were not going to well for the Electricity board, much to the dismay of the crowd who were totally anti police, which is another story, but needless to say has a lot to do with their abuse of power and the corruption associated with them.

"Good evening Sir, do you like football?" I hardly recognised Edwin at first, he looked very different this evening, he was stood beside me dressed in his best clothes and not the khaki rickshaw drivers uniform that I had previously seen him in.

We spoke about the game, with him explaining that this game was part of the Kerala state seven a side tournament, taking place currently. He said that most of the crowd had turned up in the hope of seeing the Police beaten. They were sadly out of luck as the score finished up 6 - 1 in the favour of the police, who it has to be said, were by far the better team from what I could see.

"Are you not working today?" I asked Edwin, who replied that he was not working today as there were not many tourists about, and because of this he could not justify the cost of renting the rickshaw on the amount of trade he could expect to pick up from just the locals alone. Why do these people know just what to say and when to say it? They can't all be conmen, can they?

I arranged for him to pick us up in the morning at 9.a.m to finish seeing the sights of Fort Cochin, but in reality we both knew that we could easily have seen what we wanted to on foot, as nowhere was more than ten minutes walking distance. He was a nice young man and knew what we wanted to see without being to pushy, so what was the point of walking around in the hot sun, when we could ride in Edwin's little prayer mobile.

I watched the football game to its conclusion and had to smile as the crowd dispersed with heavy hearts. Football as they say "is a funny old game" but this evenings match had given the partisan crowd very little to smile about.

Nick was almost ready for the off when I returned to take a shower. We walked to the seafront in search of a place to send e-mails and somewhere to eat for the evening, all we got was offers of freshly caught fish, or some drugs, neither of which really appealed at the time.

We found a place to send our e-mail and I was surprised to have received mail from my brother, apparently he would be in Madras on business in the next couple of days and wanted to meet up. We were only going to be in Madras ourselves for 36 hours so this might be difficult I replied, but I would let him know where we were, just as soon as we knew ourselves that is.

There was nowhere local that looked any good, those that did were not open!
Joseph was a rickshaw driver who was very helpful, having seen what he obviously knew were two starving tourists, he offered to run us to a very nice restaurant he knew on the other side of town! Here we go again! We now seem to be spending most of our holiday running around in Rickshaws or taxis. Nothing much changes here, no matter what part of the country you are in!
The restaurant he had in mind was a very large open-air place near the temple, here was where they served very good vegetarian food, according to Joseph that is.
To be fair to him the food was not that bad and very reasonably priced, so we could not complain about anything on this front. While we ate our meal a couple of the Spanish people from this mornings boat trip came in, they acknowledged us but did not wish to engage in conversation, preferring to sit a few tables away in this large spacious restaurant.

Joseph had waited outside for us to finish our meal, then took us for a little ride to the other side of the temple where that evenings procession was just about to take place.

This procession was not to dissimilar to the others we had seen so far on this trip, with the deities being carried around under a real flame torch lit lighting spectacular. As we stood to watch we were offered some very, very sweet tasting, I don't know what! This was from a little girl who was handing it out to everyone, although she had to be prompted to come to us by his mother.

It was all smiles and a nice gesture on their behalf, both Nick and I accepted this gift, it was like having two pounds of sugar poured directly into your mouth. We were holding it in our mouths just long enough to give the impression we had eaten it, before walking away and spiting it out, as it was just totally unpalatable.

It was getting on for ten when we got back to the tourist rest house, we thanked Joseph for his services this evening, but had to decline his offer for the next day as I had already promised Edwin, and you know what I'm like with my promises!