There are goats everywhere in Fort Cochin, and I quickly gathered that's what I had in my tea with breakfast - goat's milk. Fort Cochin was a lazy and beautiful small town laced with European influences.
My new home for the next couple of days was a quirky homestay (family guesthouse), enshrined from the road by big leafy trees. Breakfast was served on the rooftop, which was cleverly made with bamboo. I lounged in a hammock while I ate a tasty breakfast of egg and potato curry with bread and sweet, small bananas - this is the life!
As the next day India was to be on strike (more about this later), I took the opportunity to go to Cherai Beach, on the neighbouring island of Vypeen. I took a crowded ferry (Rs. 3) with the locals and then came my first Indian bus experience. I thought I must be the very last person to squeeze onto the crush of the bus, but then throughout the bumpy 20km journey to Cherai town, we casually picked up more and more passengers - I felt like we were being vacuum packed!
Along a dusty road from the town, lay Cherai beach. Despite some litter (a common entity in India), it was a lovely, white sandy beach and I sat and watched the powerful waves crash on the beach for an hour or two, enjoying the fresh breeze.
While I am still amazed how Indian women wear such layered and beautiful fabrics so effortlessly in the heat, I was even more shocked to see a man clad in motorbike gear (including his helmet), walking up and down the beach - sheer madness!
On strike day, I took the opportunity to wonder around the quiet streets of Fort Cochin before heading the the waterfront where the Chinese fishing nets were poised and ready for action. These are huge mechanical structures that are operated by 5 or 6 fishermen. The work on a weight balance system, using ropes to pull the net in and then the men's weight to push the net back in. I was invited (for a small tip) to have a go myself. It was fun and the fishermen were singing as they worked - my catch was modest but about right for the time of year. As I left, the men started the process yet again and they would then sell their catch to the nearby market.
I lost count of how many hands of children and adults I was invited to shake during my time in Fort Cochin, and since then. There is a strange esteem given to Westerners, and they seemed particularly delighted to hear I am from England - maybe they think I am related to the Queen!
I was sad to leave this lovely haven, but I made arrangements to head south the following morning with two French girls, who were also staying in my leafy homestay. There are so many places to see, and I know the time I have won't even scratch the surface.
My new home for the next couple of days was a quirky homestay (family guesthouse), enshrined from the road by big leafy trees. Breakfast was served on the rooftop, which was cleverly made with bamboo. I lounged in a hammock while I ate a tasty breakfast of egg and potato curry with bread and sweet, small bananas - this is the life!
As the next day India was to be on strike (more about this later), I took the opportunity to go to Cherai Beach, on the neighbouring island of Vypeen. I took a crowded ferry (Rs. 3) with the locals and then came my first Indian bus experience. I thought I must be the very last person to squeeze onto the crush of the bus, but then throughout the bumpy 20km journey to Cherai town, we casually picked up more and more passengers - I felt like we were being vacuum packed!
Along a dusty road from the town, lay Cherai beach. Despite some litter (a common entity in India), it was a lovely, white sandy beach and I sat and watched the powerful waves crash on the beach for an hour or two, enjoying the fresh breeze.
While I am still amazed how Indian women wear such layered and beautiful fabrics so effortlessly in the heat, I was even more shocked to see a man clad in motorbike gear (including his helmet), walking up and down the beach - sheer madness!
On strike day, I took the opportunity to wonder around the quiet streets of Fort Cochin before heading the the waterfront where the Chinese fishing nets were poised and ready for action. These are huge mechanical structures that are operated by 5 or 6 fishermen. The work on a weight balance system, using ropes to pull the net in and then the men's weight to push the net back in. I was invited (for a small tip) to have a go myself. It was fun and the fishermen were singing as they worked - my catch was modest but about right for the time of year. As I left, the men started the process yet again and they would then sell their catch to the nearby market.
I lost count of how many hands of children and adults I was invited to shake during my time in Fort Cochin, and since then. There is a strange esteem given to Westerners, and they seemed particularly delighted to hear I am from England - maybe they think I am related to the Queen!
I was sad to leave this lovely haven, but I made arrangements to head south the following morning with two French girls, who were also staying in my leafy homestay. There are so many places to see, and I know the time I have won't even scratch the surface.
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