Kochi, India
The news is full of tales of ice and snow; a big freeze about to sink Britain into winter misery, trains plunging into chaos and roads becoming impassable. So what better time to pack our bags and escape to the tropics? Sorry London, we love you but we're outta here…
It’s almost five years to the day since we last visited India, taking in the likes of Delhi, the Taj Mahal, Rajasthan, Mumbai and Goa. We’d always regretted not having the time to visit Kerala on that trip so, with a stack of unused airmiles about to expire, we bagged some upper class reward seats to India back in March… and waited nine long months before we could head off.
But here we finally are, setting off on a new adventure travelling around the lush scenery of Cochin, Periyar and the Keralan backwaters, before hopping over to Sri Lanka and exploring the mysteries of Ceylon.
We’re flying, driving and boating, staying in wildlife reserves and tea plantations, discovering modern cities and ancient ruins, and with a brand new camera and a trusty laptop to hand, I’m going to record it all in glorious technicolour, to banish those thoughts of winter far, far away…
With a 5am start, and almost 24 hours of travel ahead of us, it’s no surprise that a restorative glass – or three – of bucks fizz is quaffed in the lounge over eggs benedict and a super strong coffee. The bubbles keep flowing on board, followed by a lunch to get us in the mood for the tastes to come; ginger, carrot and cardamom soup followed by tandoori king prawns, poppadoms, mango chutney and lemon raita, with an orange and passion-fruit mousse to finish.
A couple of hours sleep and a proper afternoon tea including clotted cream, scones and festive turkey sandwiches ensures we’re heading dangerously towards the excess baggage category before our holiday has even begun. Ah, the almost forgotten pleasures of travelling in style…
It’s midnight when we land in Mumbai’s gleaming new airport. It really is a stunning terminal, indicative of the ridiculous wealth that emanates from this city, so at odds with the huge swathes of India that are mired in unspeakable poverty. There’s no sign of that grim reality as we walk through the glistening architecture, immaculate decorations and bright, bright lights of duty free shopping that stretch in all directions.
Having endured a soul-destroying wait to clear immigration in Delhi last time around, the speed and ease of entering India in Mumbai is impressive, so much so that we’re left with a five hour wait for our connecting flight to Cochin. However glamorous this airport is, that’s a long time to kill in the middle of the night, so we hunker down in a café called Punjab Street Grill and tuck into more food to keep us awake – a paneer makhtani and vegetable biriyani, both very nice.
The wait for them to call our flight, however, passes interminably, but finally at 5.15am we board. We're amongst a handful of passengers joining the flight, which has apparently originated in one of the Gulf states, where many Keralans have travelled to work in the construction industries, and stopped briefly in Mumbai to pick up its final few passengers, most of us tourists.
After the business class glories of a brand spanking new Virgin Atlantic plane however, economy on an Air India relic from 1972 is something of a jolt. The orange and brown seat livery is very sad and faded, with formica wood-effect panelling hiding the cockpit from sight. To be honest, it's a miracle that no-one's actually smoking on board. When breakfast comes we opt for the vegetarian option but genuinely have no idea what's presented to us. It has the rosy glow of Chernobyl about it, reflecting the gorgeous sunrise breaking outside the pitted and scratched windows.
It's close to 7.30am as we descend to Cochin and there's heavy clouds covering everything in mist and fog. In the distance, mountain tops rise through the clouds but below us we can hardly make out anything on the ground. It’s deliciously warm though when we disembark and within minutes we are greeted by Anthony from our tour company, who is there to transfer us to our hotel.
It’s a good 45 minutes drive from airport to the old fort area of Cochin and as we travel along, through lush countryside, and huge civil construction projects, Anthony gives us a potted history of Kerala. We learn about the Romans and the Jews, St Thomas who brought Christianity to Kerala way before the invading Portugese, we hear of the Chinese and the Dutch, who each had huge influence, before giving way to the British, and the colonial age that ended in 1947.
He also seems to take great delight in telling us about the high levels of suicide and unemployment prevalent in the state, of which he seems as proud as he is that Kerala has the highest level of literacy in India.
At last we arrive at the Eighth Bastion hotel, a revamped old Dutch building, now one of the finest boutique hotels in the city, where we are greeted with fresh watermelon juice and big, cold wet flannels which are bracing if nothing else. Our rooms are not yet ready so we are given a second breakfast in the courtyard by the pool while Anthony hovers around expectantly. In our jetlag we’ve forgotten to tip him but 500 rupees keeps him happy and away he goes, leaving us with instructions for what is to happen tomorrow.
Finally at 11am we are shown to our room and sink into bed, falling deliriously into dreamless slumber within seconds.
