"Keralah!" (Part III: The Alleppey Backwaters)

Heat wafted through the air in steady waves as the Scorpio whizzed down the flat roads to Alleppey. The countryside was now lined with thick rubber plantations, their tall trees each having a small plastic container tied halfway up their trunks, in which their resin is collected.
Fine yellow dust billowed off the roads behind and before us as the sun beat down on everything in it's sight. The humidity also increased steadily as were grew closer to the famous backwaters of Kerala.

When we entered the town of Alleppey, I was a little dismayed to find it quite a commercial zone with all kinds of shops and other trimmings of modernity violating one's vision with their garish colours. This was soon to change however, as in a short while we were out of the commercial zone and entered the areas closer to the backwaters, where the landscape started changing to more rural and natural scenes. The above picture of a domesticated elephant was taken just before this change took place.


Our vehicle wound it's way through narrow roads lined with coconut trees and other kinds of coastal fauna. Small, one storey-two storey homes peeked out from behind their lush gardens. When we finally stopped, we were informed that we would have to walk down a narrow path alongside a canal, in order to reach our resort, Keraleeyam (left).

Keraleeyam turned out to be a charming old home built in the typical Kerala style about 75 years ago. It was converted recently into a resort-cum-Ayurvedic spa and has rooms within the main building along with several independent cottages. The food is absolutely amazing (you need to place your orders at least 2 hours in advance since they never serve pre-cooked food, but it's well worth the effort, believe me!). I've never eaten coconut rice and vegetable stew as tasty as what was served there, by the attendants attired in traditional Kerala-wear. Further, Keraleeyam is situated right on the edge of the backwaters and so you get an ideal view of the overwhelming contrast between urban and rural Alleppey and you also get to see why those backwaters are called the "Venice of the East".

The gentle lapping of the waters is regularly punctuated by the sound of oars as long wooden canoes ferry villagers back and forth along on the backwaters. Often, the steady humming of houseboats, like the one on the right, creates a temporary disturbance in the backdrop of sounds created by the birds and insects. Once in a while, a flash of vibrant turquoise and crimson, followed by a sleek splash will tell you that a kingfisher has dived for it's prey. Rural Alleppey is crisscrossed by wide canals and lakes that are formed of the backwaters. The villagers and the wildlife are entirely dependent on these waters for food and transport.

On the evening of our first day in Alleppey, we were hailed by a solitary boatman, Girish Kumar (right), who offered to take us on a small trip of the backwaters for a nominal fee (this happens to be quite a regular feature in Alleppey, where villagers often give tourists a canoe ride, to make a buck on the side!). In a short while we were touring the backwaters, making conversation with Girish in hideously broken English and some sign language because there was just no way he could understand a coherent sentence! In his chirpy style he showed us how villages have sprung up on narrow fingers of land that form the sides of canals.

You will never see one house behind another as there is no space for that. The little homes are arranged next to one another in single lines. Each house has its own canoe which bobs about outside the main entrance, and also a little stone niche with steps cut into the banks quite close to the canoe, which serves as a place where the owners of the house bathe and wash dishes (mercifully the water is not stagnant!). Drinking water is available inside the homes, courtesy of bore-wells. Electricity has also found its way to these villages so once in a while you will find a kingfisher perched on one of the cables, peering intently at the water below.
I will never forget the sight of school-goers being ferried to the mainland by their parents with their bags and bicycles early in the morning, followed by ladies going to shop for vegetables and fishermen who travel from island to island, announcing their catch with loud, high-pitched calls.

Rural Alleppey is an extraordinarily beautiful experience. Sunny skies sport the fluffiest white clouds you could imagine...and when you look at the shades of green that explode all along the shorelines, you can't help but think that green is God's favourite colour.



On the second day of our sojourn in Alleppey, we left Keraleeyam and embarked on a day and night of cruising on the backwaters in a rented houseboat, the Goldencap. In the care of Captain Ajaykumar (right) and his crew, we relaxed completely in the quaint luxury of that experience. There are few things you can do in life that can surpass the experience of living in a houseboat, literally waited on hand and foot, by the staff. We flopped in huge cane chairs as Captain Ajay navigated the 102 feet long houseboat through the tranquil waters, pausing every now and then to tell us something new about the lifestyle of the villagers. At mealtimes, we anchored in some place where the crew provided traditional Kerala cuisine prepared in the Goldencap's private kitchen. My dad also managed to haggle admirably with a local fisherman to come back with 4 huge lobsters for dinner!
As night fell on Alleppey, our boat was anchored near a small village. We spent the evening singing songs, trying a spot of fishing with rustic fishing rods and exchanged a few words with some villagers. The occasional passenger boats, which are backwater substitutes for the public buses used by land-dwellers were quite interesting to watch...for no other reason than their existence!

When it was time to sleep, we lacked for no comfort in the surprisingly well equipped and spacious rooms, which were air conditioned and had private toilets. It's something else to be lulled into slumber by the gentle rocking of your boat by the waters on which she is moored. I hope you get to experience this sometime! God bless and until my next post, au revoir!