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Published: February 10th 2006
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We arrived in Alleppy or Allephuza today - a two hour local bus ride from Kochi or Fort Cochin. Very hot - 35C during the day and down to 25 at night. Kerala is cleaner, greener and more friendly than any place we've visited so far. The general 'look' of this southern province on India's west coast is steep, red-tiled hip rooves over plastered walls under 60 foot-tall palm trees. This province has been a trading and sea-faring area for thousands of years. There are Mosques, Hindu shrines & temples and churches. The people speak malayalan which seems to have a whole lot of extra syllables thrown in just for fun. The mouth doesn't move much but the tongue rolls rapid-fire through the consonants. We find that everyone is very proud of their state and their culture. Seems the literacy rate is near 100% thanks to a communist government elected back in the sixties. There is construction everywhere.
Our train ride south from Goa was challenging as we had to board a 3-tier sleeping car around midnight. One of our sleepers was occupied so Darla took a middle (instead of a bottom berth) and I took the upper. There wasn't anywhere
for our packs but in our narrow beds. I managed to make a bit of a nest, spread out the sheets, swallow a gravol and actually get some sleep. Darla couldn't sit up as it was three tier and couldn't stretch out because of her pack so she spent a very uncomfortable night. There were a number of snorers who took turns waking us all up...however, I think I was one of the snoring cuprits, too, so we won't dwell on it. By morning enough people had gotten off that Darla could crawl into another bed and nap for a couple of hours.
We got off the train at a town called Thrissur and stayed at the Government Guest House. Usually it's full of bureaucrats but thay gave us a huge room for 220 rupees (C$7) The floors were of a pale rose marble with black veins running through it.
Hundreds of eyes were on Darla as we walked around Thrissur. Schoolgirls would smile shyly and then giggle to their friends as if they'd just seen the queen ('course, they had). The men never took their eyes off Darla...it was as if I was not there. It's like this in
rural India where westerners are not common. The saving grace is that prices of everything are drastically lower. We had a lovely supper at a ritzy place - wonton soup, hot & sour soup,veg fired rice, masala papadoms, eggplant in hot garlic sauce, mushroom manchou and nan - for C$5.
The next day we took an hour-long local bus through rice paddies, rolling hills and green forests to a school that teaches Kathakali - a play acted though a group of art forms dating back to the 17th century including drums, singing, dancing and very elaborate make-up. The school takes in kids from all over. They train for 8 - 10 years before graduating. We had a three hour tour through the various classrooms and were most impressed with the quality of instruction and performance. The drumming was incredible, the dance was exotic and the architechture and construction of the buildings - carved stone pillars, wood frame, red tile roof - was stunning.
We took a bus back to Thrissur, checked out of the hotel and jumped on a bus to Ernakulum and then across the harbour on a ferry to Fort Kochi. Indian buses are, to say the least,
very exciting. The standard bus-driving technique has one foot hammer-down on the accelerator, one hand constantly blaring the horn, weaving through overtaken and oncoming traffic at breakneck speed with endless Bollywood music pumping out of the speakers. The Rough Guide book says that the Keral State buses are superior to the private buses because they "have slightly more leg room, tend not to allow as many passengers on board and are generally safer, displaying marginally less suicidal tendencies than their private counterparts". Indeed, it is common to see an autorickshaw pull out to pass a cyclist, a car pull out to pass the autorickshaw and then the bus will come along and pass the whole lot way over on the other side of the road all the while the same scenario is bearing down on us from the other direction. The drivers all skillfully nip back into place to allow the oncomers by and then pull out again. We sat in back today...what we can't see won't bother us.
We spent three days in Fort Kochi at a spotless hotel in a suburb across from a dusty park that seemed to have endless, dawn 'til dusk cricket games. The park was almost completely shaded by two huge trees at least 80 feet tall with crowns or branch-spread of at least an acre each. We had tea and breakfast on a little terrace outside our second floor room and a rooftop terrace with a clothesline.
We were treated to more Kathakali - professional performances this time - and also to some Indian classical music and dance. We'll post some photos of this as the make-up is difficult to describe with justice.
Yesterday, Sunday, we took the ferry to the train station and made eight train reservations. We have learned the hard way that Indian trains are booked way in advance. If you want a good seat you must plan ahead. We pored over the timetables, the guide books and the calendar and reserved all of our major trips. From the steamy south to Mysore in Karnataka, through Maharashtra and Gujarat to Rajastan. Then on to Agra, Amritsar in the Punjab and finally to Himachal Pradesh and the Himalayas. The cost for some 6000 km of travel was 11,300 rupees or only C$300 for all the tickets.
Alleppey is famous for its 'backwater cruises' through a network of canals. After a 'tali' lunch - rice, twelve spicy dishes, nan and papadoms - we met a guide who is arranging a trip for us.
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