It is Monday morning and canals are alive with traffic. Ferries are transporting children to schools while men prefer independence of their private boats. Large fright boats are passing loaded with building material. Such a unique place, these backwaters!

Waiting for the school ferry.

We return to the starting point in Allepey well before noon. Our driver is already there and we are soon on our way to Kochi, where we have just enough time to get some food and refreshments before we catch our next train. Next destination is Palolem, the most idyllic beach in Goa, according to the Lonely Planet guide. Not without certain dose of nostalgia, they also call it “paradise lost”, due to its growing popularity and new development caused by it. Ironically, that is pretty much destiny of any “paradise” once it gets listed in the Lonely Planet.

Next stop Goa!

We leave Kochi in company of Sreekumar, a 28-year old train driver from Allepey. He lives in the backwaters and now he is on the way to his job in Goa. From him we get a detailed account of Keralan and Indian history and politics. Kerala has been governed by the Communist Party of India (Marxists) (as opposed to more radical and militant Maoists) for the most of India's post-independence history and Sreekumar explains its success in education, public health and standard of living by combination of leftist politics and democratic elections, something that communists are hardly famous for.

We also learn about background of the Ayodhya case, one of the hottest points of contention between Hindu nationalists and Muslims. Ayodhya is a place in North India, where an old mosque was demolished by angry mob in riots in 1992, under pretext that the mosque had been built on top of an even older Hindu temple. The case had been resting for a long time thanks to the Supreme Court ruling that had put the site off limits for construction of a new temple. Pandora box was reopened when Rajiv Gandhi, prime minister at the time, empowered by parliament majority sufficient for constitutional changes, decided to give a separate, Sheriat based, family legislation to Muslims. This move, while showing an exceptional amount of religious tolerance, was very questionable from the perspective of constitutional law. Needless to say, many people didn't welcome such changes, but Hindu nationalists were among the loudest in protest. In order to please them, the Supreme Court's ruling about Ayodhya was changed and some restrictions were lifted.

Another bizarre turn in Indian politics made by Rajiv Gandhi happened when he ceased to support Tamil Tigers in Sri Lanka, who had enjoyed support of his mother Indira Gandhi for a long time. Fearing presence of the Americans, whom Sri Lankan government asked for help in fighting the rebels, he sent Indian troops to the island. This was seen as a treason of the highest order and Rajiv Gandhi was killed soon after in a most gruesome way by explosive placed in the garland of flowers that was hung around his neck during a visit to Tamil Nadu.

It is bed time. We have to wake up around five in the morning if we don't want to miss our station.

Today is one of the most anticipated events of the tour: a 24-hour houseboat cruise of the Kerala backwaters. The backwaters is the name for a system of lakes and canals that stretches along one part of Kerala's coast. Its population consists mostly of farmers and fishermen who built their houses on narrow stretches of land that separate adjacent bodies of water. In addition to its role in fishing, prawn farming and irrigation, the water is pretty much the only mode of transportation and it is used for most of the household needs. Even though the area is not densely populated, its infrastructure is on a respectable level: water and sewage, electrical power, schools, public transportation, temples and churches.

The navigator.

The rain is pouring as we climb onto the boat. Two crew members and a cook welcome us and show us around. Our living space consists of two bedrooms with bathrooms and a large covered deck, where we will be spending most of our time. The boat is made out of wood in a traditional way, and we like its natural and authentic feel (even though there is not much authentic here, at least not to Kerala: this kind of boats has its origin in Kashmir.) The navigator sits on the bow and the other guy, who controls a small engine, is on the stern. Since there is no line of sight between them, they communicate through a little bell hung on a string that they stretched along one side of the boat. We start the cruise and the cook serves coffee as we are navigating between rows of houses. It is early afternoon, just after lunch time and women are doing dishes in the canal. One is washing her hair and a little farther a fisherman is pulling out his net. It is raining and a guy in a small boat is holding his umbrella between his chin and his shoulder while paddling. It feels as if we are in a different world.

Canal as a kitchen sink.


Or a bathroom.


A convertible in monsoon season.


Fisherman.

It is time for our lunch too. Our cook turns out to be a master of Kerala cuisine: fried fish, cabbage with coconut, ladyfingers, some pickled beet and mandatory, at least in the south India, rice and sambar. Everything is delicious, as well as eye pleasing. We notice that coconut is much more popular than in Tamil Nadu, which gives dishes a sweet flavor. They are are also less generous with chili powder, our taste buds get a welcome break. The only thing one can possibly do after a lunch like this is to take afternoon siesta and that is exactly what we do.

Our cook just served lunch.

In the evening we find a spot on a side of a large lake in one of the less populated areas, where we would spend the night. The choir of frogs from the adjacent paddy field just started their concert. Soon after another house boat arrives and a Dutch family from it comes over thinking that we are a Dutch group they met a few days ago. We are obviously not, but we still spend an hour or two in conversation with them. They tell us how they got tired of their summers in Italy and a few years ago decided to start spending their vacation time in more distant parts of the world. So far they love it. He teaches Latin and Greek to, what he jokingly calls, the most expensive class in the world. His subject is not a part of mandatory curriculum and he currently has only one student.

The rest of the evening passes rather uneventfully and we go to bed early.

We arrive to Varkala around noon. It's cloudy and you can tell it was raining recently. The usual drill with a cab driver. We tell him the place and ask how much. He tells us the price, and we guess whether he's ripping us off or not. It sounds reasonable this time. Then we convince him that we really want to go to the place we told him about and not to another one, of which we hear from him for the first time and which is 'very nice'. And we are on our way. We like what we see from the cab. A lot of tropical greenery and some colorful houses.

Eden Garden

When the cab stops, we can't really see anything that we would call Eden Garden (not that we would call anything Eden Garden, for that matter, except for Tiho, who used the name of the Biblical place to refer to his favorite juice bar in Chennai), but the driver points to the other end of a rice field where a small compound is hidden behind palm trees. It is built around a rectangular pond, which features some lotus, big orange frogs and three dinning platforms. The hotel doubles as a center for Ayurvedic medicine and massage and the couple that serves lunch to us in the afternoon, gives us massage in the evening. The Garden is very peaceful and occasional rain shower provides a dramatic rhythm. I already love monsoons.

Veranda in Eden Garden.

After everybody got fed, massaged, and rested, we all meet on top of the cliff which walls a long beach. Drama is visual this time. Among several open restaurants and bars that line the cliff top we find a pleasant place and get excited talking about the first day and tomorrow's cruise. The background is Bob Marley, grilled sea food and mandatory Kingfisher.

Holly beach in Varkala.

The day of our trip finally came. Dijana and Tiho have been here for almost two weeks now and they already adapted well. Maja arrived five days ago and we are all eager to start the journey. The plan is to start by crossing the subcontinent, to the southern part of its west coast. The town is Varkala, the state Kerala. Then we will follow the coast toward the North, stopping in Goa and Mumbai (a.k.a. Bombay.) We also plan to see Taj Mahal and go to a popular pilgrimage town Haridwar at the Himalaya foothills, but the second part of the plan still needs some brushing up.

Let the tour begin!

Chennai Central station is very busy, as it is mostly the case on Friday nights, when thousands of Chennaites leave the city to visit their families in rural areas. The train is punctual and we easily find our wagon. Our names are on the list of passengers glued next to the wagon door and we are impressed by the organization of Indian Railways, a company that moves more than 15 million people a day.

We get in and we are less impressed by their minimalistic approach to the interior design. It reminds us very much on the socialist industry of our former homeland and we are quick to draw conclusions about the Russian influence (which are not entirely unfounded, I must add.) One section consists of two benches facing each other, that seat three persons each, and another pair of seats by the other window, separated by the passage. Luggage shelves are where one would expect luggage shelves to be, three fans hang from the ceiling and a small foldable table is mounted on the wall below the window. The neat thing about this setup is that it can easily be transformed into eight beds, one for each passenger. Pretty clever and not completely uncomfortable. Especially for a 15 hour journey, during which any horizontal surface large enough to host a human being in a lying position, becomes extremely valuable. There are more people than seats and when passengers with reservations decide to go to bed, the rest of them find their spots on the floor.

Not so uncomfortable either.

And the floor is not the place where you want to be. Probably ever, but especially this night. In the middle of the night, while crossing Western Ghat mountain range, we went through some heavy rains and open doors and windows were not very helpful in keeping water out. Our bags are lying in water, but there is not much we can do, because in the night shift the floor works as a luggage shelf. Our first contact with monsoon rains, which will follow us during the whole trip.

Upper levels.