Our second excursion in India was heading from Fort Cochin to the backwater region of Kerala called Alleppey. (The actual Malayalam name is Alappuzha, the ‘zha’ letters forming the same sound as the Hungarian actress who I’m sure to date myself by mentioning.) Just the sound of these Indian names invoked a sense of the exotic and we weren’t disappointed. After a little adventure finding the River Escapes dock (a determined taxi driver made sure we arrived at the right location), we were welcomed with a refreshing drink of tender coconut and sipped away along with four other guests – a young Indian couple (honeymoon perhaps?) and an older English couple. As Dave and I began to settle in, we felt ourselves slipping into a lazy relaxation underlined with an excited sense of anticipation.  After a brief orientation, each group was escorted to the dock, where a row of beautifully maintained wooden houseboats waited for boarding.

The houseboat held a casual elegance with spotless wooden floors, wide wicker chairs and large open-air windows. The dining table had a bowl of fresh fruit and before we even got our shoes off, the staff of three – the captain, first mate and chef introduced themselves, integrating a slight nod of the head, a typical Indian gesture indicating friendship or often agreement (depending upon the exchange at the moment).  With the captain comfortably seated at the helm, the steward pushed the houseboat away from the dock and the chef headed to the galley.

Having been a chef on the high seas myself, a highlight for me was following the chef to the galley as he prepared our lunch. (At the end of this blog, I’ve included some of the culinary tips I learned and have repeated, with great success, at home.)  The chef, a tall, slender man in a clean white chef’s coat and tall toque (making him all the more imposing in height) was shy but friendly, explaining his preparations as he skillfully cooked with a deliberateness that conveyed training and personal pride. Our fish, a favorite on the Kerala backwaters called Pearl Spot or Karimeen, was trippy looking, resembling more of a skeleton than an edible item, but it was delicious – crunchy and spicy. As the chef cooked, the captain remained attentive at the helm, navigating through the waterways that would eventually (for someone else) lead to the Arabian Sea. And we were not alone. There were dozens of other houseboats meandering their way down the river  – some had two levels with expansive balconies while others stood out with ornate window frames and decorative wood designs. And we all just moseyed along, with passengers waving to one another as we passed modest homes on the shore with clotheslines holding colorful saris. As the waterway became narrower, we found ourselves being led off the houseboat and into a long motorized canoe.  We had arrived at the backwaters. Continue reading →