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I played my daily anthem and there was a bit of a spring in my step today, so it was time to do something…well, quite relaxing. I was going to head out to the Kerala Backwaters.

I went local with the breakfast choice on the morning of a steamed rice cake and a spicy vegetable stew. Very warming and I am finding that the spice is helping the digestion. However, my bunker supply of imodium is always at hand in case I step too far off patch.

With my enthusiasm, I was also up nice and early which was a real first and I was the only one taking breakfast. Two birds landed on the fence one after the other and I wanted to just share it with someone. The first I think was a Kingfisher, with a very large head and beak out of proportion with the rest of its body. The striking thing was the colour. It was mostly turquoise and with a dark brown head.

That was replaced by a Woodpecker type bird, that was the spitting image of the old Woody Woodpecker cartoon we used to watch, with a bright red head with a mohecan spike and slender neck. This is the way to drink your coffee each morning. Well that’s all folks..for breakfast.

Back to Backwater.

After the heavy rainfall the previous night, the air had cleared but the sun was even more intense. My taxi came and I asked if it had ‘AC’. A popular phrase out here for air conditioning. “No” so I just wound down the window and added natures answer. I just need the car to keep on moving, which for the first 10 minutes it flew. They are really ace combat drivers. Driving must be an issue in India even for the locals. A sign at one traffic island just said “follow the rules” as my taxi cut up the on coming bus. The buildings along the sides of the roads have a certain charm about them just because they are shabby and all different with them all using the roof and wall space for massive advert hoardings. The Bollywood stars, especially the unbelievably beautiful girls, endorse everything. I thought the currentness of one Ad was outstanding, a big board with a smiling face of Pope Francis promoting a brand of tea with a strap line of ‘Chai for me Argentina’.

We were soon into the heavy traffic of Ernakulam. My driver wasn’t weaving, but everything else was. You must hear horns 10 times a second, but they keep their cool and it is effective. The drivers have one sign for distain and that is a quick twist back and forth of the hand and a simple look. No rants and in seconds ‘it’s been said’ and the disagreement is over. Although it took an age to get to Vaikom just looking out the window at all of the different things made the humid heat bearable and the time flew. There was a constant set of smells in the air of sweet, fish and not so savoury aromas.

At Vaikom we met the Guide outside a number of shacks by the side of the road. The driver and guide exchanged a rendezvous (dropped some french in as it is in my head for something later) and I was then welcomed formally by my Guide, Priam. Well I think that was his name because after the fourth time of telling me I thought it rude not to be getting it. He got my name in one, so I felt like a right charlie. Actually a wrong David.

The Kerala Backwaters are natural inlets of water, rivers, lagoons and alike that have been further carved man-made with meandering shallow canals. “It’s supposed to be like Venice!” said Priam as we got into the boat. The boat was like a large kayak and I was invited to sit in the middle. A note for my Sister’s side of the family (aka The Smith’s) I would like to note that, Yes, the thought of me making a right mess of managing a canoe on the River Wye last year was forefront in my mind. But for the record, I did attempt to catch Deb’s sister Karen.

Anyway, I got in and sat squarely in the middle with Priam facing me on the next cross timber. A boatman was introduced to me, a guy who I would say was in his 60’s. He was going to be punting for us. Most events that start in life, when you say let’s go, begin with some kind of noise. This was as serene a launch as anything I have ever felt and we were off. Straightaway, I was chilled. I promised to improve my vocabulary, but honesty just being on the water and no other boats in a heavenly place was well…

“Kerala stands for Coconut Land” Priam said. And “This is God’s own country. This part is my village”. My link to the last blog was complete. Priam asked me if I was having a good stay and was very inquisitive of the detail behind my answers. He explained that it was very important that we get this right for me, for the Tourist. “We have a saying. Look after the tourists like you would look after your family”. They do the family and tourist bit really fine.

Priam explained how the backwater and the villages had came about and we cut across the main river and into the first backwater canal, a width of say 12 feet. Everyone we saw smiled and waved, as we punted our way through the leafy waterway. He wasn’t pushy but every now and then he’d point at something like a fruit or a tree and say what is was and explain how it was used. He pointed to some Pods in a tree and said “Cocoa…Cadbury’s”. You would think that it would not be interesting, but because it was so peaceful, I was hanging on ever word. He pointed to a Cashew fruit and if as on cue it dropped into the water by the side of the boat. It looked like a gourd, but the big fruit was like a bitter sweet melon and attached to it was the shell of the curly cashew that we all know. He said that children eat these, pointing to the fruit. Simple pleasures eh?

We were approaching an area of the narrow water where there were a hoard of people splashing around in the water, by decorated poles. He guided me that I could take photo’s then a quick exchange with the Boatman he said “sorry it’s a tribute to some who has died”. He didn’t have to say any more my camera was switched off. I could see he was pleased that we shared the same respect. “This is the 14th and the last day of mourning and they are washing off evil. They will have a celebration now”. And so they were within yards there were brightly colour people chatting and smiling and kids running back and forth. It was a bit like an Irish wake, but I couldn’t see anything that resembled alcohol.

The boatman pointed to a snake by the side of the boat. But I was assured it wasn’t poisonous. At this point if Sue had been here we would have been talking about flights home.

A hundred yards on a man in an orange loin cloth was swimming in the water with two bamboo sticks. Fishing in one of the backwater ways. They also use chinese fishing nets too. Priam said that nobody buys fish in his village as they just catch it from the passing waterway.

We pulled into the side and got off by a track leading up to an old grey concrete house. He said he would show me some spices. When I had my tuk tuk tour earlier in the week I knew that meant “I want to sell you something”. This wasn’t. He and the Boatman slowly walked from bush to bush up the track, zig zagging from one to another. Everything was under the shade of Coconut Palms, everywhere you looked. All their tropic gatherings are used. He pointed to two Palms opposite each other. This one is for Oil and this one is for just drinking. He explained the simple process of how they did it.

There was a great range of spices that he would pick off leaves, flowers or berries and hand them to me. He would suggest lesser known ones as used as imitation for something else. All as nature had intended, the lemon leaves gave a zesty smell, the curry leaves were aromatic, red pepper seeds were creeping up a trunk and look exactly as you would see them in a mill. A lot of the leaves looked to me like the privet that used to be so prevalent as a kid, but each smelled exactly as the guide and boatman said. Along the way he had pointed to a large nut a few times. I think it was the Areca nut (I had to search on the internet when I got back) While we were in the village he played out how the nut was used. He picked a large dark green leaf off a tree and said the nut would be mashed into the middle of the leave and then folded into a small package that you could pop into your mouth to chew. “It goes red in your mouth” he said and then tapping his temple “it goes here”. It was a local chew like cannabis or as they prepare it over here something akin to ‘Bhang’.

We moved down the water to the next stopping point, where a lady was spinning coconut strands into rope. It was an art and it wasn’t a side show. This is exactly what she did in the village.

We made a turn in the boat at a small cutting and then started to drift back using the slow current. It was a delightful trip which makes you think how serene and pleasurable life can be. Lots of sensory pleasures.

Off in the taxi we were back to the hotel in half the time, basically as he was driving twice as fast and using his horn even more so.

By this time I was parched and hungry so a cold beer, samosas and pakora hit the spot. Then off to relax by the pool, not forgetting my child training of 60 minutes wait before swimming.

While I was out Chef had been buying the fresh fish for a special meal that night. It turned out to be a nicely presented plate with a steak of King Fish and a whole Pomfret Fish done tandoori style. A pudding creation of Bananas, Tangerines, sweet fried noodles, vanilla ice cream and a butterscotch drizzle finished me off.

A relaxed evening and ended off with a couple of beers with two nice people. Mona and her son Cosmo from Finland.

As I left for bed, Chef who was also manning the night desk, asked for my help with a French guest who was trying to get his wifi to work on his iPad. Impromptu francais est tres difficile et le iPad ne travaille pas (It didn’t work). Let’s see what tomorrow brings.