Kochi

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.