Cochin (Kochi & the Queen of the Arabian Sea)

Thinking that we should try striking out on our own, I did some advance research and discovered Neem’a Kitchen, an Indian cooking school that looked intriguing.  Her website said that, in addition to running a Home-Stay (B & B), she runs cooking classes in the AM and PM for small groups.  I emailed Neema and she replied in great detail with directions, cost, and that she could take a group of four at 2:30 PM.  She couldn’t take us in the AM because she had already booked a group from the Sapphire Princess. 

Sapphire Princess

I regrettably had to say no, because it would be cutting it too close for sail away.  As it turns out we didn’t leave until about 8:30 PM, soon after we watched the Sapphire Princess do a 180 from the dock and sail away.   

Rumors abound as to what caused the delay.  It could be an accident involving passengers.  It could be a missing crew member.  It could be the Indian officials trying to illicit a bribe in connection with a missing crew member.  We’ll try to get to the bottom of this and report back.

So, we took the included city tour, billed as church, beach, Chinese fishing nets, Dutch palace, and Jew Town.  

This city, in the state of Kearla, was first occupied by the Portuguese, then the Dutch and then the British.  At first glance, it seems more prosperous than Chennai.  The vendors’ colorful wares that line the streets lend a festive feel, as opposed to the dusty squalor of the previous port.

Our first “unscheduled” stop is at the dhobi khana laundries.  In my estimation, this was the best part of the day.  These public laundries were established to serve the British officers.  First we walk through a common area where laundry is piled in the middle and sorted according to some unapparent system.  On the perimeter of the common room are elderly men and women wielding 20 pound charcoal irons. 

Passing through here and into a courtyard, we see cement “pens” where men are beating wet clothing against rocks.  These laundry stalls are handed down through families, each cubicle with a water tank and washing stones.  Outside of the stalls is an open area where laundry is hung to dry.  Not a cloths pin in sight.

Our guide tells us that the moustache and the mundu are important to the Kerala male.  He’s right.  Rarely do I spot a clean shaven male and the mundu is ubiquitous either in its long form or knotted up for ease of scooter riding or to prevent it dragging in the dust.

Everywhere we stop are hawkers.  Everything they’re hawking is rich in color:  glittering ballpoint pens, sparkling umbrellas, shiny silk scarfs, and eye catching clothing.  At the St. Francis Church we fend off the hawkers before peeking inside.  Bob and I don’t bother going in. The shoe routine is getting old.  The highlight at the church is the elaborate fan system and the tomb of Vasco da Gama (no longer occupied.)

We walk from the church, along the vendor lined streets to the vendor lined beach to see the Chinese fishing nets.   Although they don’t seem to catch anything but garbage and tourists’ dollars, these cantilevered nets positioned on a base on the beach, are lowered into the water with counterweights and are pulled out by a team of fishermen, presumably loaded with the catch of the day.  The catch of the day is tourists paying to have their pictures taken helping to hoist the nets.  Discarded flip flops are also plentiful.

The most amazing site on the beach were two water buffalo wallowing in a pit of muddy water.  The pit was right next to the promenade (sidewalk) so it was probably dug and filled with water specifically for these creatures.  If you walked by fast, you wouldn’t even have noticed them.  The water was the same color as their hides.  Gross.

Besides the water buffalo, the street life was fascinating and odorous.

Bus to Mattancherry Palace, a Portuguese palace referred to as the Dutch Palace….  Pretty murals painted with vegetable dye depicting the landing of Vasco da Gama on the walls inside….  Can’t take pictures of the murals….  Could have skipped this for more time in Jew Town…. Walked past the colorful shops to the synagogue which was closed….Passover. 

Back on the docks, the Indian officials check, scan, double-check, stamp, and re-stamp our paperwork before we return to the ship.

On the scale of one to ten for Indian cities, Chennai is one and Cochin is two.  Tomorrow Goa, then Mumbai.

By the way, the heat is still oppressive.  Even when we’re at sea, the air is so heavy that I haven’t walked Deck 2 in days.  I can do laps in the bathwater temp pool, as long as I’m the only one in there.