We landed in Kochi after our third
domestic Spicejet flight. We
haven’t really talked about the flights but they have been good. The planes have been fairly new and the
crews efficient. The last flight
was on a Boeing 737-800 and it looked new.
Kochi, or Cochin as it was
known before the “lets get rid of British sounding city names era”, is the
economic hub of India’s most southerly state, Kerala. The Kochi area is a region of islands surrounded by rivers,
lakes and ocean. As a result, the
weather can best be described as “sticky”. The vegetation is rainforest jungle.
Greeks, Romans, Jews, Arabs,
Chinese, Portuguese, Dutch and the British have all influenced the city since
ancient times. At one time it was the
center of India’s spice trade. The
largest “palace” of the area was built by the Portuguese, redecorated by the
Dutch in the 1700’s, and occupied by the Brits until they left the scene. One of the top tourist attractions are the inshore Chinese fishing nets that have a cantilever with an outstretched
net that suspends over the sea. The
fishermen dip the net into the sea and lift it a short time later to harvest
the fish and crustaceans. The fishermen
along the walkway wall sell the seafood.
We had pre-booked our first night
at a resort on the largest inland lake in the region. It was beautiful but it was a little out of the way and the
call to prayers by the local Muslims across the lake woke us at 5 am. As well, the gift shop salesman
cornered Deborah and asked for her phone number. He may have been interested in just her but he may have also
been looking for an advocate to help him get into Canada. He has been refused five times. He claimed the Canadian
government has labeled him a terrorist.
 |
Kochi is a Land of Water
|
 |
and So Hot We Spent Most of Day One In It
|
We received a late checkout time
and spent the day around the pool; we hired a car and driver and moved to
a more central location near old Kochi Fort town center.
After checking into a new hotel we
set out for some sightseeing. We went
to the local spice market and bought various local teas and saffron. We walked the seawall and watched the
fishermen bring in their catches and the fishmongers wave the flies off their
fish with their dusters. It is sad
to admit but we drove by Kochi’s most famous basilica and its famous Jewish
synagogue, without going in. I
think we have reached antiquity overload and have become somewhat blasé about
some of the sights. It happens on most
trips. We ended our day with sunset at the beach.
 |
Kerala is the Spice Region
|
 |
Chinese Fishing Nets
|
 |
Fresh From the Sea
|
 |
We Don't Like To Miss Our Sunsets
|
Our second full day was a relaxing
day of massages and more pool time.
One of the main attractions of the Kerala region is the Ayurveda
massage. It is an ancient healing
tradition that has evolved in India dating back to around 600 BC. It is supposed to create a balance
between body, mind and spirit.
Jinder booked three consecutive sessions for us in the Ayurveda Health Spa.
 |
Pool Time But No Massage Pics
|
When it comes to massages, I am
not a veteran. I have never been
comfortable with physical contact except on the sports field. I wasn’t even comfortable hugging anyone
outside of my immediate family let alone allow a stranger to put his or her hands
on me until a few years ago.
I am happy to report that I have
evolved in many ways around the subject and was introduced to massage in Mexico
a few years ago, but the Ayurveda massage was another major step for me. As it turned out Stan was an even
greater neophyte than I and had never had a massage for the same “I don’t like
strangers touching me,” reasons. Until my “medical massage” in Bangkok on this
trip, the masseuses had always been women. In Thailand it had been by a man but with my clothes on. Certainly the few massages I have had, all involved underwear and/or a discreet towel. The Ayurveda was different.
When I arrived at the Spa I was
introduced to my masseuse, a small, Indian man who went by the name
of Prince. Deborah and I had
joint appointments but like the security lines at Indian airports, men and
women are separate, Deborah went to her room with Raksha and I to mine with
Prince. It got very interesting
after that.
Prince directed me to a shower/change
room and asked my to remove my cloths.
It is this point in any massage that I ask, “everything?” and he
replied, “yes”. He handed me
something to put on after I had removed my clothes. It looked like a shoestring with a three-foot section of cotton
about the width of toilet paper hanging from the middle of the string. I tied the string around my waist with
the strip hanging in the front. Then
I reached behind and grabbed the hanging cloth from between my legs, hiked it
up and tucked it into the shoestring behind my back. I looked like a Sumo wrestler. Properly dressed (or undressed), I entered the massage
room. It was dark and lit by
candlelight with soothing music in the background.
Prince began by pouring warm oil
over my head and proceeded to massage my scalp with his fingertips and the
occasional karate chop to the top of my head. I don’t know if this was part of the process or to keep me
from falling asleep.
After a few minutes we moved to
the table. After I was facedown I
felt his fingers unexpectedly undo my handiwork at the back. More oil
pouring and Prince began to knead my cheeks like a baker with a deadline. The Ayurveda technique focused on long
motions from the head to the tip of the toes and in no time at all I was completely
relaxed. That is until it was time
to turn over. Prince caught me by
surprise when he reached a little to closely for my comfort level and grabbed the
cotton strip again and reefed it up to reattach it to the string. Suffice to say I now know how thong underwear feels and am not in a hurry to reprise the experience.
The front was a repeat of the back
with perhaps a little too much time spent on the nipples. (I made a mental note to check with the
others when we were done.) When he
went for my neck I waved him off and was thankful the rope suspended from the
ceiling never came into play.
At the end it was into a steam
box. It was a wooden box with a
seat and a lid that closed around your neck. I was completely enclosed in the box. A towel was tamped into the remaining
openings so the steam could not escape.
I cooked for around 10 minutes and was led to the last phase involving
some cleansing grit and a shower.
Prince asked me if I wanted him to stay and operate the shower but I politely declined. All in all, an
interesting experience.
On the third day we hired another
driver and car for the day. A
comfortable new seven-seat van and driver cost us 3,200 rupees for the day (or
$64 Canadian dollars) split between three couples.
Our objective was Allepey, 64 kms
to the south of Kochi. Allepey is
known as the “Venice of India”. It
is situated on a narrow strip of land between the Arabian Sea and India’s
largest lake. Boating through the
canals and natural waterways is a major tourist attraction. We had nothing prebooked but negotiated
a two-hour private charter on our arrival.
The activity proved better than
even hoped. Allepey is much like
Holland in that the farmland is located below the level of the surrounding
water. Continuous natural and
manmade dykes keep the water back.
The dykes serve as footpaths, boat stops, and house foundations. Our boat travelled close enough
to see the rhythms of daily life; children bathing and playing in the water,
women pounding their laundry on the rocks by the water, and folks fishing for
their dinner.
 |
There Were No Shortages of Boats to Hire
|
 |
Quite Comfortable Being the Only Passengers
|
 |
Houseboat Divas
|
 |
Social Life Along the Waterways
|
 |
Water Bus Stop
|
 |
Ladies off to Saturday Market
|
 |
Stan Getting Comfortable in New Surroundings
|
 |
Letting the World Go By
|
 |
Below Water Level Fields
|
 |
Men Visiting - Woman Working
|
 |
Gravel Hauler
|
 |
The Traffic Had Picked Up Near the End
|
We finished our Allepey stop with
a fine meal on the beach. Once
again, several kilometers of white sandy beaches with very few people in
sight. We all fell asleep on the
return trip despite the countless near head on collisions that occurred. We have truly become Indians.
Off to the airport in the morning
and our final India stop, Bangalore.
