Across the Andaman Sea and the Bay of Bengal, and into the Indian Ocean to the Malabar Coast, and Kochi, in India’s State of Kerala. We arrive at dawn, on a steamy, hot day, even though early.
As we approach Wellington Island, crowds assemble on the shore, waving and shouting and whistling. A preface to a day of warm and friendly people, extraordinary sights and sounds and smells, wilting heat and humidity, all intoxicating and unanticipated, unimaginable. A kind of waking dream.
Kochi is a city of about 600,000, with maybe 1.5 million in the overall region. Kochi, and Kerala we’re told, is India’s most literate locale, with a literacy rate of 94%. Kochi is poor – average income is about $2 a day – but in spite of the poverty, life there seems to proceed without the kind of grinding desparation one might expect. In fact, the place was vividly alive with bustle, kids going to and from school,
folks out working or shopping or just gathering to chat, pick-up cricket games all over the place.
Away from the touristy places, the streets were jammed with life – too many cars, as usual, but bikes and peds and scooters as well.
Kochi is flat, and lies very low and close to the ocean, so water is everywhere. We spent some time looking at what’s called “the backwaters,” and found this fish market in full swing.
Boat repair and construction is a must in a watery environment, and with blue tarps as protection, work proceeds.
Back on the ground, we walked and walked.
Kerala politics have been dominated by communists for decades, so this bit of graffiti was no surprise.
Inside the Mattancherry (or ‘Dutch’) Palace are some really gorgeous things – the highlights for us were some exquisite wall paintings. And the outside seems so prosaic.
Leaving the Palace, we see yet another canal – they are everywhere in this place.
Walking the narrrow streets is a pleasure, but can be harrowing – scooters and cycles are everywhere, whizzing and honking. You can sense this in any street view, crowded or otherwise.
St. Francis Church, built by the Portugese and once the burial site of Vasco da Gama, is the oldest European artifact in India.
We strolled on from the Church, along the aptly named Church Road, and we came to Vasco da Gama Square, where we found this:
Yes, three Cobras. One tried to get away, but he grabbed it by the tail and in an instant it was back in its basket. We did not make this up.
An amazing, overwhelming day. If only we had more time to get to know this place, and see more. We nearly melted in the heat – can we even recall being hotter? – but the day was sensational (for all the senses), and we were completely captivated.
On to Dubai.
