Cruising the backwaters of Kerala without a care in the world

I was never really a fan of the idea of a houseboat. It may have been the ramshackle versions I’d seen growing up on family holiday, putting down the river somewhere in Northern Ontario, a sun-bleached waterslide riveted to the back to help sell the idea to the kids. Or maybe it’s the traditional narrow houseboats I see in London on the canals that make me wonder how one manages call a boat home. How do to the toilets work? How does one survive winter? So when I found out that we were venturing to a place in India of all places that was famous for its house boating excursions, I drew some interesting images in my mind of what such an experience would entail. I couldn’t have been farther off the mark.

We enjoy this place as tourists, but the backwaters are still a vibrant community.

For as much control as I was taking in planning every day of our 155 day trip, our 2 days in Aleppey remained blank; a flashing cursor in the story that was our adventure through 9 countries. “We’ll figure it out” my husband Scott insisted, speaking from his years of experience in the luxury travel sector. He’d always spoken so passionately about this isolated paradise that had found its way onto every Kerala itinerary he’d ever constructed for clients. He exclaimed that this was the main reason travellers flocked here and I soon came to comprehend this phenomenon.

Cycling in Kochi, the “gateway” to Kerala.

Our adventure in Kerala begins early one morning as we touch down in the “gateway” to the region, Kochi. We explore this coastal town under the blazing sun, walking along the seaside path where the famous Chinese fishnets hoist nets of small fish high into the air. They are best enjoyed at one of many makeshift “restaurants” perched on the sandy banks nearby, cooked to your liking in a variety of styles. We spend our time exploring the historical Fort area by bicycle and pack up our rucksacks the following day to make our way to the famed Aleppey on the local bus.

The famous Chinese fishing nets in Kochi

Have your pick of the daily catch cooked how you like with your toes in the sand at a modest beachfront restaurant.

An hour or so later the bus driver deposits us on a bridge somewhere on the outskirts of town, and we are relieved to have survived the journey given his penchant for speed. A journey along a main road flanked by a shallow canal delivers us safely to the reception of our hostel some half an hour later; our t-shirts soaked and many shades darker from carrying our gear such a distance. At least we saved £2 on the tuk tuk. Aleppey’s beach quarter is remarkably void of activity, and as we explore the beach we fail to see another soul in either direction, as we flick the hot sand upward to our calves with every flip and flop.

The following morning we arise with a sense of excitement. Houseboat day! We know we are getting close to the docks when locals begin to offer us unsolicited help in finding a boat for the day. “Houseboat. Boating. Good price. Cheap price”. On advice from our taxi driver in Kochi, we negotiate only with the captain himself on his vessel, avoiding a commission fee for any of the locals who should trick us into needing assistance with the simple task of finding a boat for the day. There are dozens of boats moored on the dock, and we soon find our captain who offers to ready the thatched watercraft while we return to the hostel to once again stuff our belongings into our backpacks. Thank god we remember to leave him a fistful of rupees to buy beers to keep chilled for our voyage. We return a few hours later, our captain fires up the engine which belches plumes of black smoke, we untie and push back.

The boat is beyond expectation, and serviced by our very own captain and chef who have their own quarters at the rear of the vessel. We have our pick of 2 bedrooms spread over the ship’s 2 levels. There are 2 dining rooms with a combined seating of 10, and an upper level viewing deck with regal wooden captains chairs and a comfortable lounge. I snoop around to discover the kitchen is well furnished, and the icebox has been provisioned with 5200ml of 5.7% beers, which upon closer observation are aptly named “Bullets”. The first two took hold quickly, having had little to eat earlier in the day. We are giddy with joy and excitement, nestling seamlessly into the luxury and tranquility of our new surroundings, as the GoPro records time lapse footage from the bow.

Our chef is a gentle soul, and seems like any of these journeys could be his last before retirement. Despite his years cooking on boats, he has absorbed little english and relies on his mellow demeanour and genuine smile to communicate with those on board. We pause momentarily and moor on a nearby bank while the captain jumps to shore. He takes with him a makeshift fishing rod and rolls small balls of corn flour dough between his finger and thumb, each time returning the mass to his breast pocket. He threads the ball onto the small hook and flicks it into the water between the boat and the shore. Fighting the urge to set the hook at the first sign of a bite, he is patient, until he yanks firmly on the rod to set the hook in the lip of the fish, before laying his catch gently on the grass beside him.

Lunch is served on the open air upper deck, and a generous spread is presented before us. I feel guilty for the amount of trips required from our wisened chef up and down the stairs to assemble the fruits of his labour on the glass table. He has fried the fish caught moments ago, and presents them with plump rice grains which he indicates came from the nearby paddies, motioning across the horizon with his rough hands. Slow cooked lentils, and various vegetables and condiments complete the feast and we dig in. We devour the spread with enthusiasm, appreciative of the care employed with such humble and local ingredients. We pay chef praise for his hard work and he reciprocates with a smile and a nod.

A delicious spread of beautifully prepared ingredients from the surrounding communities

Rich, coconut based vegetable curries were served with plump rice and flavourful condiments

The afternoon is spent in our captains chairs on the upper deck looking out over the canals as we glide along at a gentle pace. We drift along the backwaters flanked by vibrant green rice plantations, navigating the paths carved through the lily pads by fellow houseboats. Mellow lounge music plays on our portable speaker while we capture picturesque moments through the lens of the camera. It’s the happiest I can remember being during our travels until that point, and the ultimate in relaxation.

As relaxed and happy as I can ever remember being.

Hours later the sun begins to hang low in the sky, and we find a place to dock up for the night. Despite our remote location, there are still many people who live in the backwaters, and we find ourselves tied to the bank of a small community which we explore as the sun paints reds, pinks and oranges through the evening sky. I send the drone up to capture the scene from above, drawing a group of curious neighbourhood children to investigate the gentle buzz hanging in the air. When I land safely on the ground I show them the footage on the screen of my phone and their faces widen with an incredible smile. Their village as seen before only by those bearing wings.

Exploring the village where we stopped for the night at sunset.

We enjoy another exceptional meal for dinner. Tender & fragrant chicken curry, chapati, rice and vegetables are served in the lower level dining room which is glassed in to protect us from the mosquitos whom have since awoken. Our surroundings fade to black and we enjoy one last beer on the upper deck, listening to the singing voices and the rhythm of musical instruments from the nearby village. I find it important to savour moments like these where you’re truly happy and so far removed from life as you know it. It’s hard to wrap my mind around the day that we’ve had, and a sense of happiness and true contentment washes over me as I play our day back in my mind. I fall asleep with a gentle grin on my face in our air-conditioned room.

Narrow long-tail boats that transport people and goods throughout the canals of the backwaters.

Morning arrives quickly, and for a moment I forget where in the world I am. After familiarising myself with the foreign surroundings I plant my feet on the floor and pull the curtains aside to reveal the morning sun glistening across the gentle ripples of the water just outside the window. I put on shorts and my flip flops and focus carefully as I walk across the plank that connects the boat to shore, cautious of putting too much confidence in my movements pre-coffee. I walk up and over a bridge that connects the village across the canal, and life is remarkably quiet and still. Silence is broken by the infrequent motor of a narrow long-tail boat that is a reminder of how people and their destinations have remained connected in these remote villages for centuries.

Back on the boat a continental breakfast of eggs, buttered toast and jam awaits with a steaming cup of coffee. The backwaters come alive again as boats untie from their moorings and begin the journey back to the main port as birds chirp in nearby treetops. My stomach sinks slightly as our captain turns over the diesel motor, signalling our imminent return to reality. We meander through the network of waterways with other houseboats who will soon deposit their passengers back in Aleppey where the chaotic streets of rural India await. We pack up our bags and glide gently back into port and as the captain shuts off the engine we come to terms with the fact that it’s all over.

Our fearless captain navigating the waterways to bring us back to shore.

WHAT WE WISH WE’D KNOWN…

I highly recommend this experience to anyone who finds themselves in the Kerala province of India. It was definitely one of the highlights of the month we spent exploring the India. Aleppey in general has little to offer outside this activity (our opinion), so I recommend you arrive either early in the morning the day you plan to depart to negotiate with your captain (around 9am for a 12 noon departure), or in the evening the night before. If staying in Aleppey avoid the desire to stay by the undeveloped beach front (but if you do, eat at the Smile Cat Café!). Choose instead to stay by the main dock where the houseboats depart. For the best price negotiate directly with the captain of the ship on the dock. Avoid anyone trying to assist who isn’t actually on a houseboat, as you will be paying extra for their “services”. We paid 6000 rupees for a 2 bedroom houseboat which left at noon and arrived back at 9am the following day. This included all food. We left another 1200 rupees with the captain to have 8 large (650ml) beers waiting chilled for us when we boarded. No regrets!

-Ryan