Travel
By Solange Hando
Kerala Backwaters Nestling between the steep slopes of the Western Ghats and the legendary Arabian Sea in Southern India, Kerala meanders through canals and lagoons, sprinkling its lush scenery and unique culture in ‘the land of coconut palms’. With over a thousand kilometres of waterways, including thirty-eight rivers and lakes that look almost like the sea, this enchanting corner of India holds everyone spellbound. Spreading inland from Cochin, like a vast open fan, Vembanad is the largest lake, ninety-six kilometres long and up to fourteen wide, dotted with islands and cooled by a welcome breeze. Smaller than it was since land was reclaimed, it is listed nevertheless as a wetland of international importance, home to some twenty thousand waterfowls, native and migratory birds from the Himalaya and beyond, such as the Siberian cranes. On the eastern shore of the lake, the Kumarakom Sanctuary is a favourite haunt for any bird watcher. Vembanad and the main waterway have plenty of boats, the latter with the occasional traffic jam, coracles, canoes, fishing crafts, ferries sailing from bank to bank and traditional rice barges converted into luxurious houseboats for tourists in the know. But small inland channels have a charm all of their own, vanishing through the trees in a never-ending maze of wonders. Palm trees mingle their reflections along the banks, exotic birds add touches of colour, a golden oriole, a green beeeater, an Indian pond heron, dull brown until it
74
takes off to reveal its glowing coppery shades and beautiful white wings. There are orchids and snowflaked lilies, water hyacinths spreading right across the water in places and rice fields here and there, shimmering emerald green under a bright blue sky. Alappuzha, the ‘Venice of the East,’ is a bustling hub for houseboats but local life goes on in sleepy villages draped in hibiscus, a Hindu goddess’ favourite bloom attracting humming birds and myriad butterflies. Women lay out offerings in the early morning while pretty girls with ribbons in their hair wait for a boat to take them to school. Then it’s time to scrub the laundry on the canal bank, pick courgettes from the garden or prepare the fish father just brought in. The tapping of hammers echoes along the lane, men build a boat, others weave palm fronds on a bamboo-framed parasol. The earth glows red, a temple bell chimes now and then, and in the rising heat the village bursts with colour, all red roofs and walls painted green, blue, purple, orange, sheltering under the coconut trees. Kerala is relaxed – try herbal tea or Ayurveda – but come festival time, a new vibrancy takes over the land, sweeping everyone off their feet. Parades, rituals, boat races, caparisoned elephants, there are year-round celebrations with lots of music and dance, most dramatic the traditional Kathakali when painted faces and voluminous costumes send shivers down your spine. But late into the night peace returns to ‘God’s Own Country’, lulled by the lapping of water under a starlit sky.
Please mention The Villager and Town Life when responding to adverts
