Boiling Bike, Boats & Black Tea (more photos added)

Logistically speaking, 2 motorcyclists following a taxi carrying said motorcyclists’ aunt around the major tourist attractions of Kerala is a piece of cake. When you throw in an overheating bike, lack of fixed itinerary and aunt who will only drink light black sugar-free tea, this cake turns somewhat sticky. That said, we’ve had some of the most chilled-out, enjoyable times since leaving England and Mary has since turned most of India’s tea making population into diversifying brewing pros.

Eventually leaving our bamboo huts by the sea quietly confident we would make the next 20 miles without too much drama we limped on to Kollam, or Quilon as it was once known, to suss out the houseboat / backwaters situation. This experience has been widely written about by travel authors as one of the ten things you should do before you die , they’re not far wrong, it was very memorable but I think the fantastic onboard crew consisting of captain, engine man and chef 

and the coincidal water festival made the trip all the more special.

After viewing our vessel, which would house us for the next 2 nights, we set off from the typically noisy frantic Indian town and full steamed ahead destination peace and tranquility. First stop was on Ashtamudi Lake which feeds the many canals that crisscross the surrounding landscape and lunch, consisting of rice, chapattis, chicken kadai, prawn curry, fried fish and an assortment of tasty fried veg, was served up pronto with plenty going spare. Feeling very satisfied and suffering a tad from baby syndrome (utter uselessness after eating) they fired the engines up again and we meandered through a maze of waterways disturbed only by the fish jumping and occasional cries of “look, kingfisher!”  As the day wore on we started on the stashed beer and felt an overwhelming sense of calm and contentment even though Mary had a go steering the boat. Pulling up by a small village we spotted cashews, pineapples, touch-me-nots (my mum used to grow them for us kids, yey!) varieties of chillis, aubergines, french beans, cricket bats and television cables all growing wild on the bank. Then, before we had digested the first meal, we could smell and hear the indisputable frying of mustard seeds, I’ve never been so full before in my life and that was without eating the fresh pineapple and banana fritters served up for tea. A pleasant evening ensued listening to captain Saji courting his girlfriend Sreeja on the phone and winding Mary up about her taste in tea and driving skills then retiring for an early night in our mosquito netted wood cabin with en suite bathroom, nice…

We rose early to the chorus of hundred of birds and piped religious singing and drumming, the canals are lined with s mall temples and churches that churn out deafening chanting and beats from loudspeakers high up in the coconut trees from before dawn to well after the sun has fallen. After breakfasting on masala omelette accompanied by rice noodles and onion curry, which tasted surprisingly light, we gently floated across more millpond-like lakes and past tiny islands supporting colonies of ducks and boat builders. Mooring up, we were shown a coir (coconut husk, softened in salt water for 3 months then dried and shredded) making factory, with two workers in full swing covered in husk to the point where the stuff was coming out of their ears and splattered from head to toe in mud but with the biggest grins on their faces they were evidently happy in their profession, and nutmeg, mace and cloves drying on the ground after being freshly plucked from the trees, this is great, I never knew where mace came from and certainly didn’t know nutmeg grew on trees let alone that trendy carpet was made out of coconuts, hurrah! Time for a swim…

That night our captain promised to take us to a church festival and fireworks display, as you might imagine we were rather dubious about this prospect, none of us being devout church goers, but, willing to give anything a go we dropped anchor outside a convent, adjoining a large church lit up with flashing lights and surrounded by hundreds of people waving and shouting, this was obviously not your average church festival as we would know it. Perched on the front of our barge along with the crew, the sun started to dip behind the palms and a hive of activity began on the canoes dead ahead. Suddenly balloons were released and the sky was aflame with colour accompanied by explosions, singing, drumming, bells peeling and general euphoria. A procession of people carrying torches filed up to the waterside and climbed into the canoes lining the bank and to the mesmerizing beating of drums they slowly paddled out into the night. We followed them in our temporary home to another tributary to be welcomed by canoes lined with oil filled candlewicks carrying jubilant revelers to a backdrop of more lights, music and colour reflecting on the still waters. Oh, and then we had more food, I’m in heaven.

Now, all this was something else, the perfect finale to our aquatic adventure and I would recommend the experience to anyone, maybe we were lucky for our trip to coincide with the water festival, maybe other people have a different view on what they would consider unmissable in a lifetime, but for me this was certainly one of the biggest highlights in my curry-hunting exploits so far.