Backwaters

Alleppey, India (map)

In this blog: boating on the beautiful backwaters of Kerala, and a record breaking  bus journey.

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The backwaters

Just behind the coastline of the south westerly state of Kerala, lie a huge network of lakes, rivers and canals, known as the backwaters, much of it formed in the same way as the Netherlands by building dykes and reclaiming the land. It's a really unique and beautiful area to visit, a very different feel to the rest of India and one I enjoyed mostly by floating around on the local ferries.

Formula One

The journey to the backwaters started in Kumily, where I headed west onboard a 'Fast Passenger' bus as they call it. In India this term normally just indicates that it doesn't stop along the way, but in this case the driver took it very literally. The fastest bus journey I've ever been on began. Remember Ernie, the fastest milkman in the west? Well this was Rahul, the fastest driver in the east. 

Straight after leaving the bus station the horn was on non-stop, and 'Rahul' then overtaking cars and motorbikes before even leaving the town centre. We started descending from the hills towards the coast, the bus jerking violently from side to side as he went round the corners right on the limit, everyone being thrown from side to side. It was as-if we were on a private road which everyone else had no right to be on, a private race track. We caught and overtook pretty much every car and lorry in sight, sometimes in pretty dodgy places, and like the other passengers all I could do was hold on tight with both hands to literally stop myself falling out of the seat. No-one else seemed particularly phased by it, having seen it all before no doubt. There was brief respite as we stopped in a town to pick up more passengers, and seven different hawkers barged their way on board, shouting loudly, selling every snack you might need. Though the beautiful scenery had a calming effect, the journey was pretty nerve racking on the whole, and on reflection I really should have got off and waited an hour or two for the next bus - it was that bad. India has the world's most dangerous roads, a fact I write now safely at my last stop in the country, and though this was a bit of an exception I can clearly see why.

Backwaters Begin

Relieved to reach Kottayam safely, I went to the boat jetty only to find building work meant I'd actually have to catch it six miles away. With time a bit tight before the boat was due to depart, I hailed a rickshaw and we went off down all sorts of side streets and country lanes, thankfully at a sensible speed this time, arriving with a few minutes to spare. Another phew.

Local ferry journey on the backwaters

I caught the Kottayam to Alleppey local ferry, a well built but tatty wooden boat with a noisy engine, which putt-putted it's way down the narrow canal, lined both sides by palm trees. We passed fishermen on narrow boats, with long propshaft motors sticking out the back, guys crouched on the bank line fishing with lines tied to bamboo canes, and an empty toddy shop (local alcoholic drink from coconuts). More people boarded and departed at little concrete jetties along the way, at small villages comprising simple little shacks and houses, built on the narrow bank between the canal and the paddy fields behind. I spent some of the journey sat on the entrance step of the boat, one leg hanging out and it all felt very relaxing, quaint, authentic, fun, and free. Well it did until the conductor ushered me back in! After the cooler mountain air of the past few days it was back to being hot and humid, but a breeze constantly passed through and now in the late afternoon, it was an absolutely beautiful journey nonetheless. 

Reaching a much larger canal, perhaps a hundred metres across, we slowed to a stop and the driver killed the engine. All the men on board gathered round the engine - set at the centre of the boat and surrounded by a wooden rail - to see what was happening, whilst the few woman sat disinterested. It turned out there was a leak of some sort, so one of the staff promptly fixed it, sort of, by tying a strip of fabric and a piece of string around a part before we were back on our way again. 

At dusk we arrived in the coastal town of Alleppey, and relived to finally be there, I found a nice guesthouse and headed out for food. I bumped into the Italian girl I'd met a few days before, as well as a nice French couple on holiday and spent a pleasant couple of hours chatting away in the cafe, a nice way to finish the day. 

Backwater Village Life

The following day I headed out on the water again. Rather than go on an organised tourist tour on the backwaters around Alleppey or take one of the popular bamboo covered houseboats, I decided to follow the suggestion of taking local ferry boats to get a more authentic experience of what life was really like in the area. The plan was  simple - to follow a simple route between three villages that I'd read about, changing boats on the way. 

Rice barge - a little
overloaded perhaps?

In reality though, the timetables were quite different and things didn't run anywhere close to plan. I ended up only getting partway to the first village, scratched my head, went cross-country on a bus, waited by a road, took another bus, and walked a couple of miles through the countryside - all directed by a vague map and some help from the locals. I walked to a jetty to catch the next boat, and in the middle of nowhere nearby spotted a tiny cafe behind a small hospital, so stopped for a filling thali (rice and curry buffet lunch) for just 45p. This was definitely not tourist territory, and the three cheery ladies in there were pretty bemused by the presence of a foreigner, laughing between themselves and asking me questions in their basic English. 

Local kids who
showed up on the jetty

I headed on down a dirt track to a tiny jetty beside a paddy field, having been told I need to wait two or three hours for the next boat - easily passed, reading whilst sat in the warm shade of the river bank. I could see rice fields being harvested nearby, done in this case using two modern Claas rice harvesters, running on rubber tracks like an army tank due to the soft ground below. Local kids soon showed up to see what was going on, asking questions before finally getting bored and moving on. Eventually an hour before dark the boat turned up, eventually getting us back to Alleppey way later than planned at about 9pm. 

Wash spot

Considering it didn't go to plan at all, the day turned out to be quite an adventure and great fun regardless, getting to see lots of things on the way that I wouldn't have otherwise. The boat journeys themselves were fascinating, with people constantly getting on and off at the little jetties, and beautiful scenery similar to the day before. We passed loads of tiny inlets, rickety footbridges, and barges overloaded with rice being unloaded onto lorries. For the locals, the canals really are central to their lives, and everywhere you go, there's the strange sight of them using the waters to bathe fully clothed, to wash their dishes, and to wash their clothes - quite often all three at the same time! The water appeared dark green, and though whilst not obviously polluted, I'm sure it wasn't all that great. On the boat itself, I watched with amusement as the captain and throttleman (sat at the back) communicated to each other by ringing a bell a number of times (one ring to go, two to stop etc). It sounded like Sunday morning at a church.

Cruising from Alleppey to Kumily 

Still enjoying the beautiful backwater region, I took another boat fifty odd miles south towards my next destination, this time on the upper desk of a tourist boat. Whilst it wasn't quite as fun as the local ferries the day before, it was more comfortable and every bit as enjoyable. 

Chinese fishing nets

The scenery was similar to the previous days; beautiful with lots to see. I was amused at the sight of a duck tied to the bank by a rope, furiously trying to swim away, a woman washing her goat on the riverbank, and a man fishing using just a line wrapped around his toes. There were churches everywhere (Christianity is popular in Kerala state), small ferry boats being punted across the river full of locals, large modern fishing trawlers. Many young kids waved at the boat - one boy of about twelve even shamelessly managed to wee and wave at the same time! Halfway, the boat passed through a pair of lock gates, which took forever since in the heat of the sun, none of the locals in charge of it could be bothered with cranking the heavy handle to open it, arguing amongst each other for a while. 

The wildlife was excellent - we saw loads of eagles circling around at a couple of points, and I even saw the awesome sight of a a fish eagle diving down suddenly and whipping a fish out of the water. Later, passing an inlet from the sea, someone shouted when they saw a jellyfish in the water below the boat. Before we knew it we were passing thousands of them, all about eight inches in diameter and mostly clear, save the odd bright blue one. 

At dusk we finally reached the town of Kumily - the end to three fantastic days on the very unique and special area of the Kerala backwaters. The boats had been uncomfortable and I'd got completely lost at times, but I'd loved every minute of it - another India highlight.

Luxury tourist houseboats - there's thousands

Locals off fishing

Bamboo Safari

Kumily, India (map)

In this blog: a great bus ride, a bad cycle, and a walk in the park - safari park.

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Fighting monkeys

The answers rang off like an episode of Family Fortunes; with everyone answering with total conviction as if I was asking them the colour of the sky. There was no doubt in their voices, but total disparity between their answers. The question, a simple 'What time is the bus to a Kumily?':

Hotel manager: '2.20pm, but be there at 2'

Shopkeeper nearby: '2.20pm'

Rickshaw driver: '3.00pm'

Man waiting at bus stand: '3.20pm'

Another rickshaw driver: '3.30pm'

The bus driver himself: '3.45pm'

Total confusion as ever but fortunately waiting around for an hour or so wasn't a problem - you can only smile. To be fair, public transport in India generally isn't as bad as it may sound - it runs regularly and often leaves on time, despite the ever varying quality of buses, roads and driving. 

Leaving the tea town of Munnar, I took the local bus on the four hour journey south - the fare as ever, unimaginably cheap at just 87p (87 rupees). I sat next to a guy in his mid-twenties who couldn't speak English, but who upon seeing my camera whipped out his phone and proudly showed me grainy and blurry videos of landscapes that he'd filmed on his tiny phone, bless him. Later after a break a pleasant old guy, also with no English, offered me his seat by the window then some of his peanuts. The driver and conductor were also both very friendly and helpful guys, even saying hello out of the blue the next day when I passed them on the street. There's kindness on every journey in India. But the journey itself; well what can I say, except that it was one of the most beautiful I've ever been on. Winding for an hour or so through tea plantations in the mountains, with rocky summits above, then going along a high ridgeline where you could see over miles of rolling hills and forest, before dropping into valleys, passing through cardamon plantations and small villages. A lovely afternoon, made all the better by the  windowless buses they have in Kerala (except for the windscreen, that would be a bit suicidal). 

We arrived in the dark at Kumily, a small town on the edge of Periyar National Park. The town itself is nothing to write home about - for the most part a typically noisy, dirty and delapated Indian town, but the park itself is one of the biggest parks in the country and professionally run for once. After two other safaris elsewhere in India I thought I'd do the hatrick - following one in a jeep, and one on a bus, this time it was both on foot and floating about on a bamboo raft.

Ride to Nowhere

Kumily was said to be a nice area for a cycle, so the next day naturally I grasped the opportunity and hired a ride for the day, since it was too late to arrange any activities in the park that day. As with most bikes I've hired in India the first one was terrible, so much so that with the forks wobbling violently and brakes barely working, I took it back and got a refund before it killed me, finding something else mildly better nearby. Finding a map was equally difficult - nothing was sold, and the printer in the Internet cafe wasn't working, so I ended up taking a photo of the map on screen using my tablet, before eventually I was on the road.

Logging truck

I set off on an aimless cruise about, first reaching a pair of official looking gates, getting refused entry by the guard as it turned out to be a tribal settlement. I instead went down a dirt track to the side, eventually getting back on another road. The houses nor fences didn't seem the usual style and there were few cars or bikes around. I then had a suspicion I'd inadvertently gone into the settlement, but wasn't sure. I decided to keep going anyway, passing fairly simple concrete houses, fences made from woven branches, and some simple mud huts. After ten minutes or so I started passing people, getting more looks than usual before passing a building which clearly said 'tribal school' outside, confirming my thoughts. The people looked and dressed the same as any typical Indian, so I guess these had been re-homed from the national park voluntarily or otherwise, and adapted to modern life somewhat. I found my way out the other end  without any security dramas and continued on.

Normal when I cycle, an obvious loop presents itself but this time nothing seemed to flow. The turnings I needed to be able to make a loop didn't seem to exist, and after heading downhill a few miles I u-turned back to the start, before going up a steep hill a few miles, again finding no junctions and turning back the same way. The scenery was nice though, passing one spice garden after the next, a tea growing area, and a coffee plantation, before reaching a village in the hills where kids shouted and waved at me, with one group of young boys even trying to block the road to make me stop and talk. Despite being in the hills of the Western Ghat mountains where it's generally cooler, it was still darn hot so drained of energy, frustrated with the single-gear bike, and for once a bit bored, I headed back after a couple of hours and barely fifteen miles, instead going for a little stroll in the woods and reading a book instead. I'm not sure where anyone got the idea Kumily is good for cycling.

Periyar National Park

After a disappointing safari a couple of weeks before, I thought I'd have one last stab at seeing the wildlife of India. I set off on a nice dawn stroll, heading a couple of miles along the road into the national park towards the visitors centre, seeing just a small herd of wild Indian Bison on the way, in some open grassland. At the park centre our group met - an Indian couple, a lawyer from California, and a Korean girl; all nice people. Along with two guides and an armed guard in case of elephant attacks, we headed off into the forest. As dangerous as that sounds, the guard said he'd not had to fired a warning shot once in over ten years! For the first couple of hours the scenery changed immensely, going from evergreen forest, to teak plantation, to denser forest, to open grassland. Visitor numbers are tightly controlled in the park and in fact we were one of just a couple of groups that day, making it feel very natural. 

Malabar squirrel

The sound of crickets permeated the air throughout the day, but in one section they were overwhelmingly loud, to the point they almost hurt your ears; a football stadium of insects upset that we'd strayed onto their turf. The guides stopped and picked out various things along the way - termites decimating a branch, ants scrambling up a tree en-masse, a wild chicken rummaging in the undergrowth (they can fly properly you know), and niligiri langurs (monkeys) lazing in the trees. The guide held out his hand to us, indicating to stop, pointing high up in the trees to a Malabar squirrel - indigenous to the region and one of the worlds biggest, with a large bushy tail and a multi-coloured quilt of a coat. Quite a sight.

Rafting time

We stopped for the packed breakfast they'd issued (bread, bread, bread), before reaching the lake and starting the main part of the trip - bamboo rafting. The raft was fantastic - a home made beast made from huge pieces of bamboo tied together, with seats fashioned from smaller sections. The guides sat at the back doing most of the paddling, though we were handed a hand carved paddle each and encouraged to do our bit. The lake itself was built by the British in 1895 to supply water to towns in the neighbouring state of Tamil Nadu, and at this time of year the water level is pretty low, meaning you should easily be able to spot wild animals coming out of the forest to drink. Unfortunately we didn't. Despite being able to see miles of shoreline, all we managed to see was a couple of wildboar grazing. Oh well, nothing is guaranteed on a safari and that's half the excitement. All very relaxing though, slowly floating around in the sun.

We stopped for another hike in the forest. The guides pointed out a few trees, including the banyan - a parasite that climbs other trees, kills them and becomes the main tree itself. We saw huge climbers, the sort that Tarzan would swing on, some 8" or so in diameter, a curryleaf bush - a key part of Indian cooking, and a wild chilli bush - even spicier than the domestic chilli, as I found out after eating one. Tingly tongue would be an understatement. The guide scraped off some tree bark and held it to our noses - cinnamon it turned out, and picked a fruit from a bush which we tried - guava fruit. A little further on, excitingly a mongoose ran into site for a few seconds, but disappeared before we could really get a good glimpse. We returned to the shore where we left the boat, and the guys unfolded a big tarpaulin for us to lunch on. A snake wriggled it's way out, and headed towards the lake! It was only a small one, maybe an inch in diameter and a metre long, and was apparently a water snake, which would have climbed on board as we rafted. Reassuring! 

Indian elephant,and
sambar deer

Disappointingly we rafted back exactly the same way as before, but did manage to spot a white necked stork, egrets, some little cormorants, and a fish eagle - I write these names in ignorance, just reciting the guides' expert knowledge. Beautiful birds though. After another walk for an hour or so, we were back at the visitors centre. Despite being packed with noisy tourists, ironically we saw the most wildlife of all (secretly fed by staff for the benefit of tourists I wondered) - a pack of sambar deer, and a mother and baby wild elephant, grazing on the other side of the river - finally! Our group dispersed, and I started wandering back to the village, spotting some monkeys hanging out on a building site. I sat down and watched them for twenty minutes or so - lazing, fighting, hanging from trees, stealing crisps from passing children. Prime time entertainment. 

On the way back an Indian woman in her mid-twenties, walking along with her children, started talking to me. She was very friendly and chatty, and her husband and friends soon joined them - a group of sixteen of them on holiday together, having taken a thirty-eight hour train journey to get there! I got invited to have a tea with them, before finding the cafe was closed and saying goodbye. My point here is that it was the first time in over four months an Indian woman had initiated a proper conversation with me, after talking to hundreds of Indian men. It always appears to me to be be shyness, a lack of confidence, or domination by husbands. Or maybe I should start washing my clothes more often.

Niligiri langur (monkey)

Empty 'shells' of dead crickets

Raaaaaa! Bison skull

Our snake friend

Egrits and cormorants

South Indian 'thali' lunch - 45p for all this!