Cruisin the Backwaters

Infosys decided to treat us interns to a taste of the good life in India this past weekend. Kerala: "God's Own Country" I visited northern Kerala the weekend before, but this time I was heading to Cochin, a port-city further South.

The 12-hour, overnight train ride from Bangalore on Friday night did not provide a very auspicious beginning - what with trying to sleep on a fold-out table and stacked three people high in the train car. Now that I've travelled overnight on a plane, bus, and train, I still can't say which is worse. But things improved dramatically from there.

About 70 of us were put up in the Taj Malabar, a luxury hotel overlooking the water. After freshening up, we explored the old city, Fort Kochi. Hidden amongst the antiques dealers and handicraft shops were a 17th century palace built for the Maharaja by the Dutch and a Jewish synagogue. Apparently there has been a Jewish community in Cochin for centuries - since the establishment of Israel, though, all the youngsters have left and only 14 people remain.

We also visited the St. Francis church, built by Portuguese traders in the 16th century and later occupied by the Dutch and British as European control over the spice trade changed hands. I even saw the gravestone of explorer Vasco de Gama (see below for more). We also saw Chinese fishing nets - still used in the traditional way - on the shore of the bay and prawns with the largest claws I have ever seen. More like lobsters than shrimp.

The day rounded off with a sunset cruise on the bay and a demonstration of traditional South Indian "Kathakali" dance. Plus a few cocktails and cigars in the lobby - hey it's was a luxury hotel.

The second day, though was magical. A few of the more intrepid among us took a tour on the backwaters (river mouths and canals that periodically flood with tidal sea water). It was among the most beautiful scenery I have ever laid eyes on. The traditional open-air boats carried us around lush islands and under uncountable numbers of palm trees. We stopped at one point to drink the water of tender coconuts. One of the island residents climbed up and cut down coconuts for each of us and proceeded to open them deftly with three strokes of his knife. They also oblidged us with group photographs and a tour of one of their houses (the young son was learning English at school).

Though it was hard to leave, we made our way back to the train station and another 12-hour trip back to Bangalore. Of the places I've visited in India so far, this is my favorite.