Several days ago, I said goodbye to the majority of my traveling companions in our photography class, and set out for nearly a week of R&R with three friends - all of us ready to abandon the hectic pace of the two weeks prior. We have journeyed to Kerala State here in South India, where we are staying in a village on the wandering backwater canals (dubbed often as the "Venice of India"… but really not so much). We've opted for a home stay, as opposed to a traditional hotel (or as is more common in this neck of the woods - a house boat trip), and boy - was that the best decision of this trip so far. We are at the Emerald Isle Resort, 15 km outside of the nearest town (Allepey), and it's a little slice of heaven. The home is more than 150 years old, and was the working farmhouse to the current owner's ancestors. The room where I'm staying was once used for rice storage. Ten years ago, this place was converted to a home stay, and there are four rooms and a cottage for the likes of myself to come and enjoy. It is still set amongst verdant rice paddies on one side, and one of the lazy canals on the other. The owner's family lives next door, and they and their staff run this place with pride and utter attention to detail. They have taken care of us from the moment we arrived - everything from providing us with boat tours of the area, to arranging massages on premise, to cooking us three meals a day. It's charming, it's secluded, it's serene. It's perfect.
Although tranquil and lazy, this place has probably been the noisiest location we've visited yet - but mostly in a good way. There is absolutely no beep beep toot toot honk honk of traffic outside our doors, but the sounds out here are mesmerizing and amplified by the silence that otherwise permeates the air and carries over the waterways. We hear calls to prayer multiple times a day from different sources - the Hindu temple to my left, and the Catholic church across the way - both broadcast services over loudspeakers, often competing with each other for your auditory attention. Every morning, the sardine fisherman rides his bicycle through the village paths, his booming signature call announcing his wares for sale. Boats large and small navigate the backwater canals with the putt putt of diesel engines, sounding like lawnmowers hard at work in suburban America. There's also the slap slap of laundry being pounded on the rocks canal-side. Cows low, roosters crow. And the birds - so many birds! Their songs and warbles are the music of the countryside, and it's genuinely lovely.
The sites are equally as beguiling. Coconut-laden palm trees line the tropical waterways; locust plants bloom like carpets across the smaller water byways. It's very green and lush, but the canals are sadly polluted - what I wouldn't give for a swim, but there's not a chance in hell I'm so much as dipping a toe into the glassy depths. Typhoid? No thank you. But the locals frolic and play and work and bathe in the waters, seemingly without a care that they are ruining their best resource by chocking the canals with garbage and waste.
As mentioned in a previous post, I got sick while here. Was out of commission for an entire day thanks to a nasty head cold that literally brought me to tears. Couple that with some really random aches and pains, I'm so very glad that our time in the backwaters came when it did - I'm hoping to be revitalized and ready for our last big push of my stay here in India: the wondrous city of Mumbai!
Here's a selection of photos from the backwaters - enjoy!
Although tranquil and lazy, this place has probably been the noisiest location we've visited yet - but mostly in a good way. There is absolutely no beep beep toot toot honk honk of traffic outside our doors, but the sounds out here are mesmerizing and amplified by the silence that otherwise permeates the air and carries over the waterways. We hear calls to prayer multiple times a day from different sources - the Hindu temple to my left, and the Catholic church across the way - both broadcast services over loudspeakers, often competing with each other for your auditory attention. Every morning, the sardine fisherman rides his bicycle through the village paths, his booming signature call announcing his wares for sale. Boats large and small navigate the backwater canals with the putt putt of diesel engines, sounding like lawnmowers hard at work in suburban America. There's also the slap slap of laundry being pounded on the rocks canal-side. Cows low, roosters crow. And the birds - so many birds! Their songs and warbles are the music of the countryside, and it's genuinely lovely.
The sites are equally as beguiling. Coconut-laden palm trees line the tropical waterways; locust plants bloom like carpets across the smaller water byways. It's very green and lush, but the canals are sadly polluted - what I wouldn't give for a swim, but there's not a chance in hell I'm so much as dipping a toe into the glassy depths. Typhoid? No thank you. But the locals frolic and play and work and bathe in the waters, seemingly without a care that they are ruining their best resource by chocking the canals with garbage and waste.
As mentioned in a previous post, I got sick while here. Was out of commission for an entire day thanks to a nasty head cold that literally brought me to tears. Couple that with some really random aches and pains, I'm so very glad that our time in the backwaters came when it did - I'm hoping to be revitalized and ready for our last big push of my stay here in India: the wondrous city of Mumbai!
Here's a selection of photos from the backwaters - enjoy!
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