Cochin

We landed in Cochin, the former Portuguese port city of Kerala, yesterday after an overnight train journey to Mumbai and a short flight to Cochin. Getting a good night’s sleep in the sleeper coaches is hit-or-miss. I had a fairly restful night, but Dixie’s bottom bunkmate was a roof-kicker, whose fidgetiness gave her no peace. Still, as soon as we landed in Cochin, we were both ready to go.

We were met at the airport by our driver, Biju, and taken to a Chevy SUV (or “MUV” for “multi-use vehicle” in India). The accidental upgrade from the small Tata Indica we had booked was a pleasant surprise. Though English is more commonly spoken in South India than in Gujarat, Biju’s English was just passable enough for us to communicate.

Although we had planned to go directly to Munnar, we decided to spend the morning in Fort Cochin and Mattancherry. Fort Cochin sits on the Arabian Sea, or some in-land extension of it, and has a rich colonial past. The Dutch Palace and several places in Jew Town (that’s the official name) were closed because it was a Friday, so we headed to the northern harbor where fishermen use giant Chinese fishing nets to pull fish from the Arabian Ocean.

The Chinese fishing nets, or “Cheenavalas” as they’re known locally, are a tourist attraction of their own; so much so that fishermen continue to man the nets during the off-season in the hopes of getting tips from the tourists. The nets seem to be hoisted every 5-10 minutes, though the fisherman may have been pulling them up more frequently to give the tourists some more action. I chatted with a fisherman who showed me his team’s meager catch (5-6 fish, instead of the usual 50+). Thirty percent of the catch goes to the owner of the net, and the rest gets split between the five fishermen who man the net. Following our short discussion, he invited me to help raise the net (with a tip to follow, being implied). Despite the counterweights on the net, it still takes four fishermen (or three fishermen and a tourist) to pull up the net. For our efforts, we caught just one fish.

We left Cochin after lunching on some Keralan fish curry and iced and hot teas at an artsy and tasty restaurant called Teapot. Just like every other person at the restaurant, we found it through Lonely Planet .

Our drive to Munnar was a slow one, mainly because I kept asking Biju to pull over so I could snap photos. We made an impromptu stop at what turned out to be the Maharaja of Cochin’s former palace, and then later paused to soak in some spectacular views on bridges and mountain switchbacks. The area immediately outside of Cochin is developing rapidly. Large new houses and hotels are being built in the Spanish-style that defines many of the older buildings as well, and every other house seems to be newly built. It’s a sign that Kerala is trading in its reputation as a backpacker’s paradise.