Tuesday 15/11/05 – Fort Cochin
A half a day asleep and surely we’re on Indian time by now: check out of the luscious Malabar and round the corner to Ann’s Residence; goodbye to European prices and boutique luxury. Then a visit to Vasco de Gama’s gravestone in St Francis church – built in 1503 and said to be the first Christian Church in India – before spending too much on a collarless shirt.
Down one of the nearby backstreets, we discover the Kashi Art Café, a slice of beatific Goa, replete with the Pink Floyd/Van Morrison soundtrack and a courtyard shaded by palm fronds which turn into translucent shards of chloroform as they're hit by the mid-morning sun. Happiness, and for once good black coffee – not the sweet, milky horror that the locals drink.
Cocktails. Kathakali. Excrutiating. Leave early.
(Kathakali is the Keralan theatre that tells stories from Hindu mythology – but rather than speaking, the actors change facial expressions and use sign language. Which means it’s pretty impenetrable unless you’re well versed in Hindu culture, and have a lot of time on your hands – a single performance can last for eight hours)
Grilled Tiger Prawns on the harbourside as the local boys pay off the police and make clothed tables from rotting wooden frames to seat the sudden influx of tourists. We buy the seafood from the fishermen, and it’s cooked in tarpaulin lean-tos. The fear of sickness. A restless night, too cold with the A/C, too hot without.
Next: Wednesday - to the houseboat at Allepey
A half a day asleep and surely we’re on Indian time by now: check out of the luscious Malabar and round the corner to Ann’s Residence; goodbye to European prices and boutique luxury. Then a visit to Vasco de Gama’s gravestone in St Francis church – built in 1503 and said to be the first Christian Church in India – before spending too much on a collarless shirt.
Down one of the nearby backstreets, we discover the Kashi Art Café, a slice of beatific Goa, replete with the Pink Floyd/Van Morrison soundtrack and a courtyard shaded by palm fronds which turn into translucent shards of chloroform as they're hit by the mid-morning sun. Happiness, and for once good black coffee – not the sweet, milky horror that the locals drink.
Cocktails. Kathakali. Excrutiating. Leave early.
(Kathakali is the Keralan theatre that tells stories from Hindu mythology – but rather than speaking, the actors change facial expressions and use sign language. Which means it’s pretty impenetrable unless you’re well versed in Hindu culture, and have a lot of time on your hands – a single performance can last for eight hours)
Grilled Tiger Prawns on the harbourside as the local boys pay off the police and make clothed tables from rotting wooden frames to seat the sudden influx of tourists. We buy the seafood from the fishermen, and it’s cooked in tarpaulin lean-tos. The fear of sickness. A restless night, too cold with the A/C, too hot without.
Next: Wednesday - to the houseboat at Allepey
posted by tomthub at 11:36 PM
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