In Love with Cochin

It was love at first sight. Even at dawn, Cochin had a charm that won me over. I could not wait to see it. An island-shaped isthmus. I wanted to savor it with sunlight and a rejuvenated body from a good night's sleep.

Mantacherry

While we walk the street that leads to the Jewish quarter, we feel we are in a village. The houses, mostly villas, keep the colonial flavor. It was a land occupied by the Portuguese and Dutch who have left their mark. As in Goa, all this is melted by the Indian culture. Colonial houses, churches and Hindu temples sit side by side. All in harmony, as only India can give.

The Jewish Quarter is a shopping area with narrow streets. They keep, more than any other place, a timelessness. Traders call us for theur store, always with the promise of "no harrassement". Invitation I deny. I'm not into shopping and prefer to do just window shopping. There is antique shops, spices or cloths. The cars pass here and there, but the movement is almost entirely pedestrian. Eventually I arrive at the small synagogue to find it closed.

Then I go to my next destination: the Dutch Palace. In fact the building was built by the Portuguese and given to the Raja of Cochin. Later the Dutch renewed it, and it adopted this name. "Which is somehow wrong" I think as I walk through this beautiful spot. The house is made of wood, and their rooms have the same sweet abandonment sensation that all the city has.

Fort Cochin

I leave the palace to reach the area of Fort Cochin. Along the way, cross the Bazaar Rd and, as I learned by now, the name Bazaar is equivalent to a healthy mix of confusion and trade. In the narrow street there are many people and vehicles. Two trucks seem to be able to extend the road to continue their paths. Old warehouses are now shops, spice markets or headquarters of the Communist Party. One of the most interesting things of this state is that it must be the only successful case of a Communist Party. It was in Kerala for the first time a Communist Party was democratically elected. And it still retains power. With a remarkable success rate. Thus it is not surprising that we find the hammer and sickle a bit everywhere.

I arrive at the Fort Cochin area through the Chinese fishing nets area. This is a wooden structure that plunges a fishing net into the sea. The area is a beautiful postcard and a tourist attraction that combines with the daily work. It is not clear if the fishermen are models for our stylized photographs or if they can get a life out of this task - it takes about six people per structure.

Here parts a small path that follows the coast. Along the way, we have the food stalls and crafts, friends who decide to spend a moment to admire the sea or parts of the stronghold that gives name to this area. Further on, we came to the small beach, where Indians take advantage of the heat for a swim in the sea. I return home by another path that leads me to the Basilica and St. Francisco church. Two sites that attest to the colonial past of this place.

Backwaters

I went into the Backwaters through a tour that leaves from Cochin. And could not wait to see them. It is one of the major highlights of this area. Each photograph or description increased my expectations. And all were confirmed. The backwaters are a small paradise on earth. The flooded area, with small islands that line the channels, give us an idyllic setting. The boat trip is a must (it's obligation that I don't mind to fulfill). The morning was spent in the lake district. Our guide takes us to an abandoned factory. Tells us what life is like on some islands where there is no drinking water, or as the boats are the equivalent of our cars through that area.

Around us, other tourists, some mussel fishermen and birds make up the postcard in which we live. In the afternoon we go to some of the narrow channels. These, manmade, cross several houses, and we can see a little of the daily life of the community. Whether it's nap, the weaving of ropes, or plowing the land, everything is a delightful detail. But the biggest reminder I keep is the noisy silence of the jungle. We are in the midst of Nature, and it sings for us.

A passion makes us partial. And in this area there was nothing I could say it was negative. Everything seemed beautiful and charming. As it always seems to the passionate eyes.