Saturday 12 March 2016

Kochi, a Second Visit: India's Deep South Part 16

Churches, Fishing Nets, Laundry, Biryani and More

Up the Coast to Kochi

Kerala

India

We said goodbye to the Xandari Pearl Resort; we had enjoyed a couple of days of idleness beside the sea but that was about as long as we can cope with doing nothing.

The 45km journey to Kochi took us along the coast, an area with many Christians and Thomas proudly pointed out some magnificent churches. Most impressive was the Roman Catholic Basilica of St Andrew in the village of Arthunkal. The first church here was built by Portuguese missionaries in the 16th century, but the current building dates from 1640. In 1647 a sculpture of St Sebastian pierced with arrows was brought from Milan and Arthunkal has since become a major centre of pilgrimage, particularly in the fortnight around St Sebastian’s feast day, January 20th, when the statue is carried in procession down to the sea. For some reason the pilgrimage attracts Hindus as well as Christians, but all are welcome.

St Andrew's Basilica, Arthunkal, Kerala

Further on, crossing one of the many waterways, we paused to photograph the 'Chinese' fishing nets (they are unknown in China). Although usually associated with Kochi they can be found all over the Backwaters.

'Chinese' fishing nets on a waterway south of Kochi

We reached Kochi around 9.30 and met local guide R in the Fort Cochin district.

The final day of our travels took us to Kochi

Kochi - A Quick Reminder of our 2009 Visit

Church of St Francis

Our first stop was at the Church of St Francis. India's first European church was built on this site by the Portuguese in 1506. That wooden construction was replaced by the present building ten years later. When the Dutch took Cochin in 1663 the church converted to Protestantism and then, after the British arrived in 1795, it became Anglican.

The Church of St Francis, Kochi

We visited Kochi on our first Indian trip in 2009, and that tour also started here. That was pre-blog, but I wrote a post about the church and its empty grave of Vasco da Gama in 2011 (Kochi and Lisbon: The Two Graves of Vasco da Gama). It looked the same today, except for more scaffolding and fewer Gulf War generals.

Inside the Church of St Francis, Kochi

We told R this was our second visit to Kochi and he paused, looked at us and said ‘I thought we had met before.’ We too had been wondering, but that settled it, he was the same guide. ‘I'll find something different,’ he said.

The Fish Market and the 'Chinese' Fishing Nets

But we could not miss the fish market which is the natural next stop after the church. Last time we were photographed with a small tuna,…

Us with a tuna, Kochi fish market, March 2009

…this time we photographed some pearl spots, tasty little fishes that make the perfect Keralan lunch.

Pearl Spots, Kochi fish market

The market is behind the most famous line of Chinese fishing nets. We did not go there with R last time, nor this, but in 2009 we walked there in the afternoon. In March little swims in this water and the operators are mainly fishing for tourists. For a fee, the net operators will allow you to do their job for them and we hung around until we were hooked and reeled in.

So called Chinese fishing nets, Kochi (march 2009)

The mechanism is more subtle than it appears at first sight, large stones dangling from the ropes act as counterbalances so the net can be hauled up with relative ease, though the net captain kept telling us not to look up as we pulled.

Hauling up the Chinese Fishing net, Kochi (March 2009)

Our catch amounted to one small fish; with another small fish and a few chapattis we could have fed 5,000, but one small fish was only worth donating to a cat. He humbly showed his gratitude, as cats do - or rather don't.

Our catch disappears (March 2009)

Mattancherry and the Pardesi Synagogue

Last time R took us straigh to Mattancherry which is still home to the spice market, though on-line trading has removed the spectacle…

Mattancherry, Kochi

…and to the Pardesi synagogue which I blogged about in 2012 (Three Favourite Synagogues.

Pardesi Synagogue, Mattancherry, Kochi

Fort Cochin and the Santa Cruz Basilica

This time we lingered in Fort Cochin while R pointed out examples of Dutch and British architecture…

Dutch style? or British? I do not know, but not Indian, anyway, Kochi

…(though we were not always sure which was which)...

Same caption as above

...and then took us to Santa Cruz Basilica, Kochi’s Roman Catholic Cathedral. There has been a church on this site since 1658, but Santa Cruz was dedicated in 1905 and was given Basilica status in 1984.

Santa Cruz Basilica Cathedral, Kochi

Cleaning work was going on and there were several No Entry signs but R marched straight past them, ‘My uncle was Monseigneur here for 25 years,’ he said as though this freed him from the obligation to observe signs.

The interior was more ornate than other Keralan churches we have visited…

Santa Cruz Basilica Cathedral, Kochi

…and having the Stations of the Cross painted onto the wooden ceiling was unusual.

Stations of the Cross, Santa Cruz Basilica Cathedral, Kochi

The Laundry

From here drove we through what R called the ‘Hindu district’ passing a small temple where donations of salt were apparently the norm (he had no explanation)…

Small Hindu temple and salt (no I don't understand, either), Kochi

…past a small chapatti factory...

Small chapatti factory - or are they poppadums? Fort Cochin

…and on to the laundry. This is not the first laundry we have visited on our Indian travels. In Lucknow we had seen clothes washed in the Gomti River, here the washers thrashed and scrubbed in numbered booths.

Laundryman in numbered booth, Kochi Laundry

The clothes moved onto the drying area, some on lines...

Drying clothes, Kochi Laundry

…others on the ground. We have seen whites dried on dirtier ground than this, but somehow they always come out looking immaculate.

Textiles drying on the ground, Kochi laundry

Then to the ironing room. Most of the irons are electric, if ancient…

Ironing room, Kochi laundry

….but some are heated by glowing charcoal.

Not all irons are electric, Kochi laundry

Thirumala Devaswom Temple and Mattancherry Palace

Leaving the laundry we circumnavigated the vast Thirumala Devaswom Temple whose blank wall was forbidding…

Dull and forbidding wall round Thirumala Devaswom Temple, Kochi

…. and whose entrance bore a sign saying ‘Hindus only’. This is often the way in Kerala; Tamil Nadu temples are generally more welcoming.

The entrance to Thirumala Devaswom Temple, Kochi

The temple is on the boundary of Fort Kochi and Mattancherry, and we continued east to Mattancherry Palace, built in 1865 for the Maharajah of Kochi and now a museum. We visited in 2009 as well and on both occasions I totally failed to make it look remotely like a palace despite photographing various parts of the huge building from several angles. The Kerala style slatted windows and low eaves kept the interior cool but the elegance of the Kings of Travancore’s palaces at Padmanabhapuram and Trivandrum was entirely absent. It houses the Maharajah’s collection which includes some remarkable palanquins and a forgettable selection of paintings, sculptures, weapons and coins.

Mattancherry Palace

Ernakulam, Willingdon Island and an Exploding Glass

We said goodbye to R and turned towards the airport. At Kochi the Kerala backwaters reach the sea and the city consists of fragments of land separated by fingers of water. The city’s oldest parts, Fort Cochin and Mattancherry, lie on a peninsula and our route to Ernakulam, the modern city required us first to cross onto Willingdon Island.

Building a deep water port for Kochi required much dredging and the silt produced was dumped on a small rocky outcrop. By the time the port was finished in 1936 the outcrop had grown into an island 5km long and up to 3km wide, named Willingdon Island after the then Viceroy of India. A naval base and aerodrome were built and at independence these were handed over to the Indian forces. Further building has seen the island become part of the city’s commercial hub.

Over to Willingdon Island, Kochi

Rounding the end of the airfield we passed a couple of parked lorries with traditional paintwork….

Decorated lorry, Willingdon Island, Kochi

…and then left the island heading towards Ernakulam with the Cochin Shipyard to our left.

Over to the mainland by the Cochin Shipyard, Kochi

Ernakulam is a great place if you want to buy shoes or furniture, but not so good if you just want lunch. Eventually Thomas spied a small restaurant, one of a chain, he said, specialising in biryani. There was nowhere to park, but the management were so keen on our custom, they fetched the owner of a motorbike to shift his vehicle to let us park outside.

We ordered Biryanis, mutton for Thomas and me, fish for Lynne. Biryani, of a sort, appears on the menu of every ‘Indian’ restaurant in Britain, but we had never before seen fish as an option. We ordered some water and as the waiter poured in the chilled drink Thomas’ glass exploded distributing itself and its former contents all over the table. We were a little taken aback, but the staff treated it as an everyday occurrence, moving us to another table and mopping up the one we had left. They need to change their glass supplier.

If this was a work of fiction I would finish on a stronger anecdote, but this being as truthful a record as I can manage, the exploding glass is all I have.

We ate our Biryanis (competent but not memorable) like condemned prisoners. It had been a memorable trip, but now there was nothing left to write about except the journey home.

A bucket salesman on the way to the airport provided one last picture, the rest was hard travelling but uneventful, which is as good as long-haul flying gets.

Plastic bucket salesman between Kochi and the airport

So our journey through India’s Deep South has come to an end. We had visited established tourist attractions, like Mysore and the Kerala Backwaters, and been to places where foreigners are rarely seen, like Rameswaram and Kanyakumari. I loved them all.

Finally Thank you….

To Pioneer Personalized Holidays of Willingdon Island, Kochi who made all the land arrangements with commendable efficiency.

And, most importantly, to Thomas Matthew who kept us safe through 1,600km of India’s often challenging traffic.

Thomas at Lamb's Rock, Coonoor

On two trips with Thomas (2010 and 2016) we have come to know him well. Cheerful and obliging, well informed about India and the outside world, a man of compassion who understands how things work and speaks better English than most ‘professional English-speaking guides,’ we have come to regard him as not just a driver but also a friend and travelling companion. I hope we will travel with him again some time.

India's Deep South

Part 1: Bangalore to Mysore
Part 2: Mysore, Somnathpur and Srirangapatnam
Part 3: Kabini and the Nagarhole National Park
Part 4: The Road to Ooty
Part 5: The Nilgiri Blue Train to Coonoor
Part 6: Across the Palakkad Gap and up to Munnar
Part 7: Munnar - Tea, Dams and Elephants
Part 8: Madurai
Part 9: Rameswaram
Part 10: To the Very Tip of India
Part 11: The End of India and Beyond
Part 12: North to Trivandrum (Thiruvananthapuram) and Kollam
Part 13: Ants, Mollywood and Varkala
Part 14: The Backwaters of Kerala (and some Coir)
Part 15: Marari Beach, Rest, Recreation and Refuse
Part 16: Kochi, a Second Visit

THE END

Friday 11 March 2016

Marari Beach: India's Deep South Part 15 (With March 2024 Update)

Rest, Recreation and Refuse

9,11,12-Mar-2016

Revisited 12,13-Mar-2024
As the final stop on our Kerala and More tour.
Post Updates are in red.

India

Kerala

The village of Mararikulam is only 11km north of Alapuhzza so we arrived before midday. The area was new to Thomas and in finding the Xandari Pearl Resort he was quick to seek directions from locals. Lynne pointedly approved; ‘so unlike your idiotic self’ being the unspoken implication.

The village is a ribbon development with a school, a couple of small shops and several well-separated resort hotels.

Mararikulum is too close to Alapphuza to mark on a map of this scale

The Xandari Pearl

The Xandari Pearl opened last year and while leading us to our bungalow the receptionist told us proudly of their green credentials. They grow all their herbs and vegetables, source fish from the local fishermen and have their own drinking water supply. The grounds contain 600 coconut trees and numerous mangoes and cashews.

Cashew nut, Marari Beach

‘We are very health-conscious,’ she continued, ‘so we serve fruit juice, tea and coffee but no alcohol.’ She tried to sell this as a plus, but whether as a consequence of Kerala’s semi-prohibition (we had met the same problem in another new hotel in Munnar) or of a Muslim management’s conscious decision, it was bad news to those who feel that a hot day at the seaside without a cold beer is like an idli without chutney. The nearby alternatives amounted to… well… nothing, so we would have to suck it up – or, more precisely, not suck it up. Fortunately enough rum had survived for pre-dinner drinks or night caps - or both on the last day.

Our introduction this time was a little less preachy. They neglected to mention their green credentials, but informed us they now had a ‘beer and wine’ licence, though I had, of course, carefully checked this before making the booking. We were again properly equipped for nightcaps with a bottle of wonderfully named whisky.

The Scots have several ways of spelling the name Mackintosh,
but the resourceful distillers of Bangalore have found one they never thought of

Our Accomodation

Our bungalow was like a small Portuguese villa, painted white inside and out,.....

Our white painted bungalow, Xandari Pearl Resort, Marari Beach

….with a curving white wall enclosing a private garden.

A glass or rum in our private garden, Marari Beach

This year we were upgraded, and our garden included a glorified children’s paddling facility described as a ‘swimming pool.’

Almost big enough to swim in

The interior was light and spacious with a door through to the outside bathroom; the toilet and washbasins under cover, the shower (and a small garden) surrounded by more curving white wall. I love showering in the fresh air (not just because the shaving mirror never mists up) and this was the finest outside shower we have yet encountered. The drawback is that when visiting the bathroom at night, the step from the air-conditioned interior to the hot bathroom (and it remains hot even in the hours before dawn) takes your breath away, while the return resembles entering an ice box.

Looking from the covered section of the bathroom to the outside shower, Marari Beach

There was another problem, which the management helpfully flagged up on the bathroom door.

Unfortunately sound advice

We had our own insect repellent, they provided more plus an electrically charged badminton racket that eliminated insects with a satisfying ‘crack’ should you hit them, and crystals which gave off insect repelling fumes when heated. By deploying our full armoury we could drink a night-cap under the garden fan in comfort, but a bite or two over a couple of days was inevitable – and mosquitos have always found me particularly toothsome. It is worth noting that local mosquitos do not carry malaria, or any other unpleasant disease.

A Life of Leisure

I shall not bother with an hour-by-hour account of our three night stay as much of it involved lazing by the pool,...

Lounging by the pool, Marari Beach

…or wallowing in it.

Wallowing in the pool, Marari Beach

And then there was...

The Beach

We walked down to the village, the road was narrow and busy and there was nothing to see. At what we took for the centre we turned towards the beach passing a Hindu shrine,….

Hindu shrine, Marari Beach

… a Christian shrine….

Christian shrine, Marari Beach

…and a pool where one man cast his net, though there was an ocean less than 100m behind him.

A pool where one (eccentric?) man chose to fish, Marari Beach

We returned along Marari Beach, walking a part of the ‘eleven kilometres of golden sand lapped by the warm blue Arabian Sea’ to quote the brochures. It is the home of fishermen and, in the strip between high and low water, as many small crabs as I have ever seen. Largely undeveloped, Marari Beach is in its natural condition, which unfortunately means covered in the detritus of our civilization, plastic bottles, single sandals, floats, pieces of rope, and more than a few things on whose origins I would not care to speculate. There were also ample dog faeces and a dead waterfowl, its decaying corpse being rolled in the shallows by the incoming waves. It is not the beach that dreams are made of, though it could be if the hotels cooperated to clean it up.

Marari Beach, Kerala
The white objects standing on their ends are polystyrene fishing boats (see below)

Things have changed at the beach. In 2016 it was empty except for fishermen, but now the village end has been developed. There is no beach restaurant yet to challenge the hegemony of the resort hotels, but beach goers can buy a snack, ice cream or coconut.

Marari beach development

The Xandari Pearl has also sponsored a wire ‘bottle’ to reduce the number of plastic bottles carelessly discarded, and there has been progress all round.

Litter bin and toilets - there is much to clean up yet, but this is progress

There is less rubbish on the beach, there are still sandals and fishing nets, even a lonely toothbrush but the plastic bottles, the dogs and their faeces have largely disappeared.

Lonely toothbrush, Marari Beach

On Wednesday afternoon the area between the village and our hotel was busy. A vigorous many-a-side game of beach football was in progress, while beyond them was the ever-fascinating sight of a group of Indian ladies of mature years going for a paddle. Fully dressed and with arms linked they edged carefully forward into the water, making a little jump and squeal with every wave. On reaching knee height, they stood and laughed and jumped and squealed until they have had enough, then they retreat to the land. Fortunately, in this climate a soggy sari soon dries.

We spent a little time on the beach every day, accessed through the coconut palms and past a hut where a security guard ensured no undesirables found their way into the hotel's somewhat exclusive version of paradise. He gave us a cheery wave as we came and went, few of the other guests ever ventured out and I think he was glad to see somebody.

The security guard was still there and still waving. We had been told on arrival that although the hotel could not cordon off a section of beach for our sole use (and quite right too, beaches are for everybody) they had put out chairs and umbrellas for guests. Ensuring the right number, and only the appropriate bums settled on the seats, was as extra responsibility for Mr Security. The task was hardly arduous, given that the hotel residents had no more desire to venture beyond their magic kingdom in 2024 than in 2016.

The entirety of our designated seating area

Walking on the beach one afternoon a child appeared from the trees. 'Hello, where do you come from?' she asked. Lynne told her. 'What is your name?' She told her that too and, just as in the schoolbook this conversation comes from Lynne asked 'and what is your name?' It was long and complicated as so many south Indian names are. Then the girl said 'Money.' 'No,' Lynne answered and she went away. She did not look ragged or poor, she was just trying it on. Tourism brings jobs and development, but not all its effects are benign.

Wildlife

We sat and watched the crabs popping up out of their burrows and scuttling along the sand. We watched the dogs too who seem to live on the beach, chasing the crabs every time they put in an appearance. Perhaps the crabs are part of their diet - maybe most of their diet. The time spent pointing my camera at crabs who scuttled off as I was focusing was eventually rewarded with one decent photo.

Ghost crab, Marari Beach
There are 22 species of ghost crab. This is (probably) Ocypode Brevicornis or Ocypode macrocera

I was not sorry to see the back of the dogs, but where were the crabs? Instead of being surrounded by scuttling decapods, we had to look hard to find any.

I snapped a couple of birds as well, a stint or sandpiper of some description...

A stint or sandpiper of some description, Marari Beach

…and an Asian dowitcher. I know little about birds and if anybody challenges my identifications I will quickly back down.

Asian dowitcher (I think) Marari Beach

Near the beach, Lynne got a good picture of a common crow butterfly – they would not stay still long enough for me to focus.

Common Crow butterfly, Marari Beach

Fishing

Of the fishermen, some threw their nets while wading in the shallows, others unfurled them from traditional fishing boats…

The traditional fishing boat along this coast

….while others paddled along on the polystyrene craft that can be seen all over the beach. Light and cheap they are popular with poorer fishermen, but although the boats are not very durable their constituent parts are almost indestructible and add to the world's microplastic blight.

Fisherman on a polystyrene boat

We were delighted that the polystyrene ‘boats’ had gone. The new version, stood on end like the old one, seemed far less prone to precipitating a toxic plastic snowstorm into the ocean.

Boats for the poorer fishermen - no longer polystyrene

Swimming

Lynne was happy to paddle in the warm water but regarded the steeply shelving beach and occasional waves with alarm.

Lynne paddles in the Arabian Sea, Marari Beach

Unlike Lynne I am naturally drawn to water, but I inspected the waves warily.

Watching the waves warily, Marari Beach

I had seen the filth on the beach and suspected the water might be the same. I could not see any floating turds or rotting cadavers, so I took my shirt off and waded gingerly forward. But the danger does not come from what you can see; was I walking into a broth of cholera, diphtheria and a dozen more deadly diseases I have never heard of and have no immunity to? I was still debating with myself when a sudden wave took the decision for me.

The wave makes the decision for me, Marari Beach

After that I might just as well swim. I did not stay in long and I kept my mouth shut tight, though doubtless there are a dozen other ways for death to gain entrance. I came to no harm and am happy to boast that I have swum in the Arabian Sea, but felt no need to repeat the experience this time.

Floating, if not quite swimming in the Arabian Sea, Marari Beach

Eating and Drinking

We ate breakfast, lunch and dinner at the hotel restaurant; there was nowhere else within walking distance and no tuk-tuks in Mararikulum. It seemed expensive at first – a single chapatti cost more than a ‘pure veg meal’ outside - but it was appropriate for the standard of the hotel and cheap enough by international standards. The menu was not long with full meals and lighter bites, and there was little that one or other (or both) of us did not sample. Seer fish in a masala crust,...

Seer fish with a masala crust

This is the 2024 version of the dish served with a bowl of garlic rice big enough to feed six. 'Seer Fish' is a name applied to several species of large relatives of the mackerel, that are chopped into steaks rather than filleted.

... spicy tomato and vegetable soup, Kerala fish curry with tamarind and coconut, chicken salad with papaya dressing, chicken stuffed with nuts, vegetables and lime, lamb in yogurt gravy with hot pepper sauce and desserts of ice cream or vatalappam (coconut custard with jaggery, cashews, cardamom, cloves, and nutmeg) were all elegantly presented and straddled European and Indian traditions without insulting either. The Indian mackerel, selected from the fresh fish trolley, filleted then fried with a masala crust and served with ‘English’ vegetables was particularly good.

We drank lime juice or water (though cold beer would have been better). Carafes of the hotel’s spring water were set out an hour or more before serving. Sitting by the pool a raised arm would bring a carafe of water with floating lemon (good) and cucumber (not so) but that was never chilled either.

In 2024 the menu was bigger and more varied, and of course there was a beer and wine licence. They had a good wine selection, but I am not prepared to pay 4,000 rupees (£40) for a bottle of Jacob’s Creek., and anyway Indian food goes better with beer. We drank Kingfisher, the largest selling brand, which I enjoy now they have lowered the glycerol content.

We ate lunch in the company of an egret, who seemed to have taken to us.

Our friendly egret

Lynne wisely had a salad while I chose squid rings in a masala crust. The crust was robustly spiced and the squid was perfectly cooked – not an easy thing to do. There was too much of it (well I had to eat it all!) and it could have done with some greenery, but I enjoyed it. It is, though, not quite my favourite way of eating squid (see Eating the Algarve).

Squid with a masala crust

I made up by having a vegetarian evening meal, though it was still hardly green, being based on black chick peas in a brown curry sauce.

Going veggie, even if it doesn't look like it

Lynne enjoyed her sweet pepper stuffed with cheese and cauliflower.

Now that's a stuffed pepper

The hotel promised ‘music at 8 o’clock.’ They set up across the corner of the sward surrounding the pool. The music was recorded, but the solo dancer was live, if a little too far away. She introduced each dance in clear English and seemed to me (and I probably had the best view in the restaurant) a very accomplished performer, though I admit to knowing diddly squat about Indian classical dancing - or indeed any dancing.

Indian classical dance (hampered by location)

I thought she was worth more than half-hearted applause from the small group of distant, distracted dinners. Sadly, she only stayed for 20 minutes or so.

Breakfasts were good, there was a buffet but Indian breakfasts could also be ordered. My dosa with chutneys and sambar looked as good as it tasted.

Dosa, sambar and chutneys

I ate the same breakfast this year, but it was better presented so I have used the 2024 photograph.

And Finally

Each evening we went to the beach at sunset. This has been a theme throughout this holiday, indeed in the whole blog, and our failures continued on Marari Beach. Since we reached the west coast the sun has regularly disappeared not into the sea but into a band of clouds above the horizon. Some things do not change!

The sun about to sink into the clouds, Marari Beach

So that is the Xandari Pearl Resort beside Marari Beach. It is a lovely hotel, the bungalows are all you could want, the surroundings are beautiful, the food is good and the staff friendly and efficient - pity about the lack of a drinks licence. And why do Marari's collection of upmarket hotels not get together to clean up their shared beach - it is a disgrace. I am happy to have been able to report progress on most fronts.