The Irrawaddys of Mekong River

Kratié, 9-11 January 2020

The travelling distance from Siem Reap in the northwest to Kratié in the east of Cambodia is 400km. We have purchased direct bus tickets the day before and begin our journey at 7AM. Around 1PM we reach Kampong Cham, a small town on the Mekong River about 100km from Kratie. It is here that the bus driver (who suddenly stops understanding English) decides to stop, eject us and our luggage, and turn back the way.

Not to worry though, because if there’s one thing we’ve learned from travelling is that things always seem to work out just fine in the end (though often with the help of a good Samaritan).

Today’s good Samaritan is a sweet lady at a nearby drinks stand. After waiting an hour she manages to find us a vehicle heading to Kratié. This van service, operated by a husband and wife, makes stops at most villages along the way to either drop off or pick up packages/passengers. One of the tyres gets punctured along the way, but they’re not stopping. Around 4PM we’re their only remaining passengers, but luckily there are still deliveries to be made all the way to Kratié, where we finally arrive at 5PM.

When we pay the driver, his wife snatches the money out of his hand with a triumphant smile. Although we don’t speak the language, we did notice they’ve been playfully making fun of eachother the entire way, nice couple. The little bit of Khmer we learned in Siem Reap comes in handy to thank them for saving the day: Arkoun, Po! Arkoun, Ming!

Kratié is a medium sized town of 40.000 people on the banks of the Mekong river, the 7th longest river in Asia flowing from the Tibetan Plateau, through China, Myanmar, Laos and then Cambodia into Vietnam. The town sees a bit of tourism for one main reason: a local population of freshwater dolphins called Irrawaddy dolphins.

The Irrawaddy is an oceanic dolphin found near sea coasts and in rivers in parts of the Bay of Bengal and Southeast Asia. Their appearance is similar to that of a Beluga whale. As they are known to herd fish into a specific area for hunting, in some places fishermen work with the Irrawaddys to drive fish into their nets.

Cambodians believe the Irrawaddys are reincarnations of their ancestors, which has led them to live peacefully alongside one another. All the same, fishing practices involving gill nets and even explosives have led to a steady decline in the dolphin population worldwide. Though Kratié has seen a slight increase in numbers in recent years, the Irrawaddys are sadly still critically endangered.

Tourism in the dolphin habitat about 15km north of Kratié appears to be pretty ethical. There’s only a few boats and kayaks out in the water and engines aren’t being used near the deep pools in the middle of the river where the dolphins congregate. The Irrawaddys are quite shy by nature, so at first it’s hard to spot them, but after a while we see them come up to the surface constantly. When the sun sets on the Mekong, we’re lucky to see a small group of them hunting and one of them make a jump out of the water.

Although unfortunately we don’t spot any dolphins up close, it’s pretty nice to see so many of them swim around. We hope the population will keep growing, because it would be a shame to see these creatures disappear.

Just in front of Kratié, accessible by ferry, lays Koh Trong. We rent bicycles to explore this 6km long island in the middle of the Mekong. It’s a nice place with traditional houses, rice fields and sleepy scenes of cattle grazing quietly underneath the trees. Surprisingly, Koh Trong has no less than 3 temples, and on the far side of the island we find a little floating village just off the sand bank.

Driving around Kratié can be a bit of a challenge; it seems the further away you get from the town the worse the road becomes, but it’s worth the effort. Local children get super excited to see us and we find a small village on the water just north of the dolphin spot where everyone comes to swim.

Our hotel in Kratié is not the best, what with the chorus of roosters outside our window and being locked inside our room for two hours on our last day, so after exhausting all our sightseeing options here we’re happy to move on to the capital Phnom Penh.

Bukit Lawang: Hostage Situation!

Bukit Lawang, North-Sumatra. 21-24 December.

After landing in Medan we travel on to Bukit Lawang, home of the Sumatran orangutan (lit. jungle people).

We stay in a small tourist village on the Bahorok River, which is the main access point to Gunung Leuser National Park. The park has a population of around 5,000 orangutans.

The local rehabilitation centre for orangutans was founded in 1973, its purpose to preserve the decreasing population due to hunting, trading and deforestation. The centre closed its doors in 2002 as it had become too crowded with tourism.

Today in Bukit Lawang, the situation has changed much for the better. Although big palm oil and rubber plantations are still a threat to the jungle and wildlife, local rangers have successfully rehabilitated captive apes into the wild. Feeding platforms are no longer needed and thanks to a newly adopted ethical approach to tourism, the population is once again on the rise.

From the airport in Medan we take the local bus halfway to Binjai. From there we plan to take a local van to get us to our destination. In all fairness, the official Bukit Lawang tourism website does explicitly warn tourists not to use the local vans, as the guys running the service are “all drug-addicts who can’t be trusted”. Reviews on TripAdvisor confirm much the same, but for some reason we feel obliged to see for ourselves. Famous last words.

So..

When we eventually find a van that can take us to Bukit Lawang, our bags securely tied on top, and we ourselves crammed inside together with 19 locals, shit hits the fan. Six guys start banging on our window demanding money. We insist we will only pay the driver once we’ve reached our destination. The driver meanwhile shrugs his shoulders, pretending not to notice what’s going on outside the vehicle. Lauren quickly makes friends with the girl sitting next to her, who confirms none of the other passengers have paid upfront and the argument continues for what feels like an eternity.

Some of the guys are getting pretty aggressive now, but we’re not impressed. Realizing he’s not getting anything from us, a fat man comes walking up, points at us and shouts: “You! And you! Get out!” Our reply is synchronous: “Not a chance!” I’m now shouting on the driver to go, before anyone gets the idea of taking our bags down, and some of the locals join our cause. Faced with a whole group of annoyed passengers, the driver finally starts the car and drives away. The biggest smackhead of the bunch chases us down the road for a bit, but only manages to punch the van and we can relax. Lauren’s made a new friend, who is clearly impressed with her courage. The Binjai mafia has learned a valuable lesson today: The most dangerous animal of them all is a lioness from Scotland.

In town we’re collected by Erwin, who walks us to our hotel. He’s very likeable, and when we ask what he does for a living and it turns out he’s one of the rangers, we quickly decide to go trekking with him.

First we rest up a bit at the hotel after a long journey. There is a bat cave not far from the village, a complex of four different caves, each housing unique wildlife: spiders, scorpions, snakes, frogs, stingless blue bees, swallows and both small and large bats. We tunnel through small crevices from cave to cave for a peek into the habitat of some incredible nocturnal creatures.

In the midst of the wet season in Sumatra, the rain never stops coming down at night, but the following morning is bright and sunny when we prepare to go trekking in the jungle. The day couldn’t start off more auspicious with our first orange sighting, high up in the trees on the opposite side of the river that runs by the hotel.

To enhance our chances of a close encounter we’ve booked in for the 2-day trek and spend the night inside the park. It’s almost the season for Durian, aka king of fruits, so perhaps unsurprisingly it doesn’t take long at all to find our first great apes close to the park’s entrance; a mother and her teenage son, who tries to show off his skills to us by swinging dangerously from a branch. The branch breaks off mid-swing and with a thump the ape lands on his back and takes off in a huff, while mum isn’t moved at all. She casually sits munching a piece of fruit through the whole ordeal.

The same day we also spot a big male, and a female with a tiny baby, high up in the trees. Then there’s two types of macaque, a white-handed gibbon and a very chill Thomas leaf monkey.

Haven’t we all been there, Monday morning, on the bus, going to work?

The trek itself at times is pretty challenging, consisting almost exclusively of steep climbs and descents. Finally we reach the campsite by the side of a stream. After a long and taxing day we enjoy an ice-cold, refreshing bath, until we see the giant monitor lizards that had same idea.

At dinner Erwin tells us about Mina, one of the orangutans in the park, who has recently become a grandmother. He has known Mina since she was still in captivity as a pet to one of the villagers. Back then she was already known as aggressive, and ever since she was released into the wild, has become infamous for biting people, our ranger included. As if the lizards roaming free around camp weren’t enough to worry about.

The next morning we wake up with the light and after breakfast set off on the second trek. After a little while we strike lucky again. A full-grown male comes up close to get a good look at us all.

After just about the steepest, most dangerous decline, when we’re just beginning to think our luck’s dried up for today we suddenly hear Erwin shout: “Orangutan!” He’s worried it might be Mina, and leaves all of us scrambling to safety while a dark figure appears overhead. “No worries, it’s Jackie!”, we hear him breathe a sigh of relief. Jackie is meant to be a playful orangutan, so equally relieved, the two of us slow to a halt and look up to see a big orange figure slide down a big tree and jump onto the path beside us.

Relief quickly turns to mild anxiety when Jackie runs straight at us with her giant powerful arms and mild anxiety quickly turns to panic, when the first thing Jackie does is grabbing a firm hold of Lauren’s wrist and dragging her back up the steep incline we descended a moment ago. Once at the top, Erwin tells Lauren to sit down next to her new friend and right there and then a little baby pops its head out from under its mothers hairy arm. How about this for a Christmas card?

Mere seconds after this blissful scene, suddenly we’re in a reallife hostage situation. Jackie refuses to release Lauren and even threatens to bite off one of her fingers. Erwin freaks the fuck out and does not manage to diffuse the situation. He’s threatening a slap but Jackie is unfazed and lands a punch in his gut. Only after enough fruit is piled up for her does she choose to let the hostage go. So now we know how much Lauren is worth: No less than 6 pieces of fruit, thank you very much! 3 rambutons, 1 mandarin, 2 bananas. Jackie quickly gathers up the ransom and bounds up a tree with her baby.

The trek resumes. Just when we’re all fully relaxed again, once again Erwin sounds the alarm. He’s spotted Mina, of course, or rather, Mina has spotted him! No need to tell us twice, we’re already running. Behind us we hear the sounds of branches breaking and Erwin shouting. When we arrive at a clearing we turn around. There’s Erwin coming up on the path, followed by Mina. The thing is with Mina, she can smell fear, and she doesn’t like it if people are impolite. Just the other month, one of the rangers, who, in his panic, threw all his fruit down on the ground for her, got bitten. Erwin knows. Staring death in the eyes, this time he remains in complete control of the situation. Showing no fear, he politely hands her bits of a mandarin, while we safely escape behind him. Erwin kens how to treat a lady.

When we get to the river we’re exhausted but fully satisfied. Trekking over we’re heading back to the village in style: we’re tubing back down river for the perfect end to a memorable two days in the jungle.

It’s Christmas eve, we’ve just finished our first Christmas dinner of mash potatoes and chicken, wonderwall is being performed on guitar by a member of staff and we’re getting to ready to say goodbye to wonderful Bukit Lawang. Stay tuned for tomorrow’s Christmas special straight from the Reddoorz airport hotel in Medan!

At last, a turtle!

Port Barton, Palawan. 29 November-1 December

Our flight from Cebu sees us safely in Puerto Princesa on the island of Palawan in under an hour. Transport from the airport is limited to very badly organized tourist vans. After a fair bit of miscommunication and driving in circles through town, in the end they manage to squeeze fifteen of us in one vehicle, and we’re away.

Palawan’s roads are notorious for dangerous driving, meanwhile our driver does little to debunk this notion. Thankfully the both of us are among the lucky few in the car who managed to get a seatbelt. After a few hours we turn from the highway onto a country road winding through rainforest and rice fields. We’re on the north-west coast of Palawan, but nothing here seems to suggest we’re headed for the beach, until finally the trees open up and we can see a white sandy beach and the sea below us in the distance. We made it to Port Barton.

This small, remote beachside village is steadily becoming a backpackers favourite, but isn’t (yet) as popular and developed as for instance Boracay or nearby El Nido. Since there are tons of small islands and sand bars just off the coast, it is a great location for island-hopping and snorkeling.

Our hostel is basic let’s say, with our hut consisting of little more than four walls, a roof, a door and a bed, but the staff are nice and it’s a great place to meet other travellers. Besides, most of our days are spent on the various activities Port Barton has to offer and ar night pretty much every bar along the beach has a happy hour.

The next morning is not quite as happy for me as the night before, but nothing a good old hike in the midday heat to a nearby sandy beach can’t solve. En route we’re passed by a white haired jogger, who introduces himself as Dave, from Devon. Dave insists we come have a look at the flytrap plants nearby, and afterwards, before running off into the distance, invites us to come to his restaurant tonight, which serves ‘the best curry in town.’

The path out of Port Barton leads past a handful of clearings with the occasional bamboo hut and pigs, chickens and buffalos hanging out between the coconut trees. When we arrive at the beach we can’t believe our luck: it looks like paradise and even better, we have it all to ourselves! The water looks inviting. When we jump in it’s like landing in a warm bath.

Together with another guest from the hostel we head to Dave’s for dinner, where he makes good on his promise: the food is delicious. Before and after dinner, Dave entertains us with more than a few of his life’s stories and tells us loads about the local wildlife.

The next morning we dive into the action with our first ever island-hopping tour. So far, the coral we’ve seen in the Philippines appears a bit bleached of colour, but we see a huge amount of underwater life and one very aggressive parrot fish.

Lunch is freshly prepared by the boat’s crew on a remote island: an incredible feast of grilled tuna, chicken and lechon, coconut rice with a dressing of vinegar, soy sauce, onion, calamansi and ginger; potato, eggplant and lady finger salad, sliced tomato, cucumber and red onion and pineapple and banana.

After some serious digesting the boat takes us to turtle island. We almost dare not hope after all the times we didn’t see turtles, but today is finally the day we swim with a turtle! We’re as happy as a kid in the candy store.

With our white whale found, and the rain coming on, it’s time to say goodbye to Port Barton and prepare for another long drive further north to El Nido.

Merry X-Mas from Loboc river

Loboc, Bohol, 19-21 November

For our second stop in Philippines we’re headed to Loboc by the Loboc River, in the southern part of Bohol Island. On the bus ride over we’re watching Jesus vs Santa: Two men handing out envelopes for donations. The first, dressed as a Jehovah’s witness, with raised voice reads from a big bible and in response gets largely ignored by the other passengers when he comes round to collect his dues. The second, a young guy, has simply written Merry Christmas on his envelopes and walks away with a fist-full of cash. And the winner is… Santa.

It’s only the 19th of November, but already it would be fair to say that Filipinos adore Christmas. In retrospect, the first signs were there when we left the hotel in Hong Kong Kowloon and our Filipino hostess passed on her Season’s Greetings to us. When we arrive at our hotel in Loboc, the first thing we see is a giant, decorated Christmas tree and a stack of perfectly gift-wrapped boxes inside the lobby. Furthermore, the balcony overlooking Loboc river is covered in tinsel and the floating restaurants passing by play all the hits from Mariah Carey to Silent Night. Let’s just say the river is best enjoyed from a distance.

Watersports aside we have a whole island to explore. Bohol is very laidback with a lot of small villages connected by wide, largely quiet roads. It’s ideal for getting around by (bright pink) scooter, and there is loads to see.

One of the most famous Bohol attractions is The Chocolate Hills, a geological formation of over 1200 hills made of grass-covered limestone spread out over more 50 square kilometres. The name comes from the brown colour they have during the dry season, and equally, perhaps, from their bonbon-like shapes.

From the viewpoint we take the bike to a dirtpath past the little village of Buenos Aires for a closer look. When the path becomes too small we continue on foot through grassland. The heat from the sun is scorching, but the surroundings make more than up for it and the few people we meet along the way are very friendly (and also slightly amused to see two very sweaty tourists wandering around in their backyard).

On our way back we stop off for lunch at a nearby oyster mushroom farm in the middle of rice fields and cool off from the midday heat by diving into the cool water at Pangas Falls. Bohol is a pretty amazing place.

At night at the hotel we finally find out the purpose of the staff member who looks like a Filipino John Lennon, who is usually found during the day watching tv in the lobby: At night he brings out his guitar and plays Beatles songs for all the guests to enjoy (or rue, whichever works), so it all makes sense now. He knows the lyrics to every song yet doesn’t speak any English!

Bohol is one of the few places in the world where you can see tarsiers in the wild, so no visit would be complete without trying to spot some of these little furbies. Tarsiers are tiny primates (but not monkeys), which are sadly critically endangered. They don’t cope well in captivity (to the point of committing suicide due to stress), but the sanctuary we visit near the town of Corella is having some success in restoring tarsier populations. Founded by Carlito Pizarras a.k.a. Tarsier Man, this sanctuary allows visitors to ethically observe these nocturnal creatures in the wild. And they are damn cute.

Simply driving through beautiful Bohol is a pleasure in its own right, there’s always something to discover, from picturesque little villages and bamboo bridges across the river to waterfalls and forests. We could easily spend another week or two here driving around the island, but the next part of our journey beckons.

We’re returning to Cebu Island and making our way down south to Oslob, so in the inspirational words of John Lennon, goodnight goodnight, everybody everywhere, goodnight!

China: The Verdict

Guilin, 6 November

Duration: 40 days. Distance (land): 6,000 km. Stops: 14.

Total duration so far: 99 days. Distance (air): 20,437 km. Distance (land): 9,075 km. Distance (water): 115 km. Total distance: 29,627 km.

Since we’re checked in to our final hotel in Guilin, munching on cheese baguettes and drinking lychee and bamboo tea (yup, we are tea snobs now), it means our time in China is almost over. Over the last 40 days we’ve visited 9 out of 26 provinces, while experiencing all sorts of different food, landscapes and culture. Now it is time to tally up the scores!

First for all you thirsty (and thrifty) holidaymakers out there, let me give you the low-down on the pint situation. Unlike Sri Lanka and India where you’ll drink what you’re given, China has a lot of different beers to choose from, readily available in supermarkets, convenience stores and restaurants up and down the country: Tsingtao, Harbin, Yanjing, they’re all terrible. Though its supermarket pricetag of ¥2.50 (30p) per can may appeal, stay esspecially clear of Snow Beer; Unnaturally yellow, flat and with an all round unpleasant taste this would have to be the China’s worst brew.

Your typical Chinese lager has an alcohol percentage ranging anywhere between 0.5 and 3.5 or 4 if you’re very lucky. Rather than the big brands, to enjoy a good beer in China you best try the micro breweries. In the major cities you will find pubs with excellent local ales, lagers, ipa’s and stouts on draught, but make sure to bring a healthy wallet; a good pint will set you back about ¥40 (£4.50), pretty much the same as back home in Edinburgh.

Alternatively, among other European beers, Hoegaarden is commonly imported and we even managed to buy three different types of Delirium from a local supermarket in Fenghuang, at a very reasonable ¥21 a bottle. Full marks go to China!

Now, ladies and gentlemen, the moment you have all been waiting for, it is time to present to you China’s final scores, as awarded by our most irreproachable, evenhanded judge Lauren! Enjoy!

The people score 8/10. The Chinese have been extremely kind and helpful, in spite of the language barrier. They are hospitable, generous and made us feel welcome pretty much everywhere we went. Chinese people have a big soft spot for small children and babies, and while some of our helplessness at times may have evoked similar motherly feelings, I would like to believe they are simply warm, welcoming people.

Having said that, the loud clearing of the throat followed by spitting has been slightly more underwhelming, as has the sneezing without covering up or not using headphones on a crowded train.

Finally, since it goes so much against everything that is good and holy in Britain, I’m talking of course about proper queuing conduct, at first it was pretty annoying to have people constantly try and push their way out in front of you. Now 40 days later we’re cutting queues like a pro and cheer on anyone who cheats their way up front. If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em! Gonna be awkward when we’re back home..

The food scores 6/10. Being a bit unconventional here with the scoring, as Chinese food is actually my favourite, but I can’t get around the fact that we’ve seen critically endangered Chinese giant salamanders up on offer at several restaurants around the country, not to mention that eating dog and cat (fragrant meat as its called), turtle and bamboo rat are a thing here too. Fair enough, it’s not for us to decide which animals are too cute to be consumed, but lay off the endangered species, will you China? Apart from that, Chinese food is entirely great and I’d go back to Sichuan just for that!

The transport scores 9/10. Hands down, China’s winning this one! The fast trains have been superb; not a minute late, clean, smooth-riding and easy to use. The metro system in the cities is well thought-out and appears futuristic compared to some in Europe and the US. The bus system has been slightly more difficult at times to figure out, but have been good as well.

So without further ado, I am proud to announce that China is the latest lucky recipient of Lauren’s coveted certificate of excellence! Hear hear!!

The return of the King

Munnar, 11-13 September

Today is Thiru Onam (Sacred Onam Day), the most important day of the annual harvest festival in Kerala. Yesterday the hotel owner has left to Alleppey for a family celebration so we’re locking up after ourselves before travelling by bus to Munnar.

We hear the legend of King Mahabali aka the Demon King, whose spirit visits Kerala at Onam: Mahabali once ruled the entire world and his reign was one of peace and prosperity: All of his subjects had a roof over their head and enough to eat, and there was no division based on caste or class. He was so loved by his people they started saying Thank the King, instead of Thank the Gods, which naturally didn’t go down too well with the latter. And so it was that Vishnu decided to take on the form of a little boy and visit the King to end his rule.

Upon their meeting, the king, known for his generosity, told the little boy he could have anything he wanted. The boy then asked for three feet of land, which was granted. It was then that Vishnu grew from a little boy into to a gigantic figure, who measured the Earth using one foot, and the entire universe with the next. Mahabali, knowing that his time had come, let Vishnu place his third foot on his head, causing him to drown in the netherworld. The king’s final wish was to return once every year to make sure his people are still prosperous and happy. Today people celebrate Onam by purchasing new clothes for their children and elders and sharing a big feast with family.

After hearing no division based on caste or class, suddenly something clicks. We’ve seen communist symbols all over Kerala: the hammer and sickle, portraits of Che and Fidel. It makes a lot of sense now. And communism to an extent seems to work here. For instance we’re told that poverty in Kerala is less compared to the rest of India. Though partly because of tourism, and partly because a lot of Keralans have jobs in the Middle East, but also because the state creates jobs. The state ferries have been an absolute joy, and every major town has a District Tourism Promotion Council office, but perhaps the weirdest initiative is that the state employs tuktuk drivers, who, for a nominal fee, take you to all the major tourist sights in an area, and receive extra payment in kind if they can get you to agree to enter either a state run spice garden or tea shop. You don’t even have to buy anything, simply stepping in to the shop means rice for your tuktuk driver!

So when we walk to the bus station in Kumily, preparations for Onam have already begun and everyone’s in their Sunday best. Munnar in the Western Ghats is about a hundred km north, which should be about a 4 hour drive over winding mountain roads, but unfortunately, due to heavy rainfall which has caused a landslide to block off the main road, our bus is stopping at Pooppara, a tiny little village about 30km from Munnar. After a few attempts we find a local bus to take us on the scenic 60km route to Munnar where we arrive before nightfall.

Munnar is in the heart of tea country, and nicknamed the Kashmir of South India, but the town (a big, giant eyesore) and the surrounding area (valleys draped in a rich tapestry of tea plantations) are like night and day.

The electrician awoke. Thankfully it was only a bad dream.

Suffice to say we’re not spending more time in town than we have to and book our tour with the Tourism Council, which conveniently takes us to all the worthwhile sights – and every dam, there are a lot – in the area.

Kerala has been a great start to our India adventure, next up we’re preparing to explore the opposite end of the country: Rajasthan.

In the home of Tigers

Kumily, 9-10 September

A two hour ferry journey, followed by a four hour bus journey takes us from the backwaters of Alleppey to the elevation of the Cardamom Hills. We’re staying in a place called Kumily, which is a small gateway town between the states of Kerala and Tamil Nadu and also where the entrance to Periyar Tiger Reserve is.

After the heat and chaos of Alleppey, visiting the cool and quiet hill country is an absolute treat. The name of the Cardamom Hills comes from the cardamom spice that grows here alongside pepper, coffee and of course plenty of tea. Passing by some breathtaking scenery on the way here it’s no wonder this is a World Heritage Site.

Not only the climate is better, compared to our last stay the new hotel is a breath of fresh air too. The balcony has an actual view this time and there’s loads of cheeky bonnet macaques running about in the gardens. Add a hot shower in the mix and Alleppey is nothing but a distant memory anymore.

In September, all National Parks in India are closed for the season, except for Periyar. The protected area covers 925 square km and is home to as many as 40 tigers. Obviously we would love to see one, but given the fact we’re only trekking for one day, we’re still in the rainy season, and the park is humongous, this proves to be too much to ask for. The park is beautiful though and we manage to spot Malabar Giant Squirrels, Nilgiri Langurs, Sambar Deer and Indian Bisons, and a lot of Elephant droppings, but just no Elephants..

We finish off a day well-spent with a lake cruise inside the park, held up by a group of Germans (not so punctual on holiday are they?)

As night falls on the pleasant little town of Kumily we’re preparing for what will already be our final destination in Kerala. Tomorrow is the big celebration of the Onam festival and we’re travelling north to Munnar.

Lessons in patience

Alleppey, 7-8 September

So far our experience with India is that in order to enjoy it you first have to fight it. Our time in Alleppey is a perfect example of this. After our grand entrance on the ferry begins our battle with India’s Little Venice.

Prior to our arrival we had romanticized Alleppey quite a bit. It’s described as a backpacker’s paradise known for its beautiful backwaters as well as its nice beach. We’re staying at a place advertised as beach hotel with a private balcony with a view, but in reality it’s a homestay with a view of the seedy little back street it is on. Though nearby, the nice beach area is more dirty than nice, as well as completely deserted. All of the nearby restaurants are shut and when we finally settle for a cold beer instead of a good meal on our first night, it feels like a pretty big win.

The next morning, in spite of a healthy dose of fresh resolve on our part, Alleppey keeps throwing curveballs. It’s 10AM Saturday morning and all we aim to do is take out cash and eat breakfast – not asking for much here! In the light of day the beachfront is as depressing as the night before so we quickly head into town. Traffic-congested and polluted are words that do not begin to describe the scene we’re walking into when we get to Alleppey town. It’s like the wacky races: a free-for-all of tuktuks, motorbikes, scooters, buses, cars, lorries and worst of all offenders: police patrol vehicles, producing big, billowing clouds of black smoke to the beat of frantic beeping. I will never complain about how busy Edinburgh gets on a Saturday ever again..

In the scorching heat we navigate roads without sidewalks, avoid massive puddles created by rainfall overnight and try to not to die in the onslaught of out of control vehicles, while being hassled to death by touts. For over two hours we try to find an ATM that works. Just when we’re about to give up, Bank of Baruda saves the day! It’s been a stressful morning, but nothing burgers and cocktails can’t fix, we’re still fighting fit.

At this point we’re not sure if we want to stay but decide to power through the final day. We’re told this running joke: The only Indian train ever to arrive on time is one that got delayed 24 hours. Dealing with India definitely requires a fair bit of patience, and, to quote our yoga instructor: (being) in harmony with your surroundings (or simply going with the flow).

Back home when a car beeps violently at you it usually means you’re about to get hit by it, so, constantly, my initial thought is to jump out of the way (about a hundred times a day). I’m now beginning to notice that the beeping here is more like a language: you can beep to say hello for instance, beep because you’re happy, or beep just because you haven’t beeped in the last five seconds. With this in mind it sure gets a lot easier to just ignore it and go about your Sunday (in harmony with your surroundings). Now that we know where the cash is at, we return to the same ATM for another injection (our future selves will thank us), find a great coffee place, hang out in the shade by the water and get drunk with a girl from Poland and a guy from Delhi, who give us some excellent tips for our upcoming visit to the north of India.

So Alleppey, did we beat it, or did it beat us? All we know is, we came there, we encountered resistance, we took control, once again the British and Dutch colonised the shit out if it! Time to trade in the coastal heat for the cooler elevation of the Cardamom Hills when we are travelling to Kumily.

We’re on a boat! (ft. KSWTD)

Kollam to Alleppey, 6 September

Despite yesterday’s discouraging note we manage to leave Munroe Island train station without an issue. Our train is supposed to be here at 8:00, but when we get to the station at 7:50, the delayed 7:00 train is just ready for boarding. There we go. A measly 10 Rs gets us to Kollam where we hop on the Kerala State Water Transport Department’s (or KSWTD’s) public ferry to Alleppey. The total distance is about 85km, which will take roughly 7-8 hours through the amazing South Indian waterways. We’re in luck: the weather is bright and sunny and we’re about the only passengers on the boat! Private cruise anyone?

Soon we leave the mangroves that protect Kollam’s shores, pass under the bridge at Thevalli Palace and reach the open waters of Ashtamudi Lake. Suddenly loads of birds come flying up to us to catch fish in the motor’s slipstream. We’re on the top deck and get some great views of egrets flying alongside us.

We pass more of the Chinese fishing nets we’ve seen in Cochin and wave at fishermen speeding by in their small boats.

Before long we’re on the backwaters. Between the bright blue skies, the reflective brown-green water, all the palm trees and the colourful boats and houses, this place is something special.

In the afternoon we see herons, and lots and lots of eagles catching fish.

We stop off for Chai tea and a little slice of home: these bad boys that look and taste almost identical to Dutch oliebollen.

After an entertaining day on the water, finally we’re seeing the famous houseboats go past, which means we’re in Alleppey. Thank you KSWTD, we’ve had a blast!

A warm Munroe welcome

Munroe Island, 4-5 September

In the late morning we take a short train trip from Varkala to Kollam in the north. The train we’re on originates in Thiruvananthapuram, the capital of Kerala, and goes all the way to New Delhi, a whopping 52 hour journey. Glad we’re only one stop away.. It’s our first experience travelling in Sleeper Class, which for a short journey isn’t entirely unpleasant. Once at Kollam, a tuktuk brings us to today’s final destination: Munroe Island.

Munroe Island is a small inland island group located at the confluence of Ashtamudi Lake and the Kallada River. It was named in honour of Scotsman John Munro, Resident Colonel of the former Princely State of Travancore and we’re here to visit the picturesque backwaters.

When we arrive at the homestay around mid-day, our lazy morning quickly turns into a rollercoaster ride of Munroe Island’s famed hospitality. We’re greeted by the owner (strangely looking exactly like the Indian version of our downstairs neighbour), who, after giving us just enough time to put our bags down, takes us along the road on the back of his motorbike to his brother’s retirement party!

We’re sat down at a large table in the garden with a group of about fifteen men who are extremely amused to see us, while the women, equally excited, wave at us from inside the house. In mere seconds someone puts a big banana leaf in front of us, another scoops up rice, the next one dishes out curry, then pickled mango, sambal, bananas, and so on. All the while everyone’s laughing, taking our picture and trying to talk to us at the same time in broken English – we smile and nod and pose, trying to eat with our hands like the others (our right hand that is, don’t want to gross anyone out!)

Back at the homestay we think we’re relaxing on the patio, but that’s not happening. First there’s a ton of paperwork to fill out for the Indian authorities (required at each hotel, although it’s always different), and in the meantime the owner has already drummed up a pal of his to take us onto the backwaters by boat. We quickly throw a water bottle and our phones into a wet bag and set off on the waterways!

This is what we came here for and we’re not disappointed: the backwaters are absolutely stunning. We’re the only boat out on the water and everything is totally quiet except for the pole going into the water, birds chirping and the boatman’s uncontrollable coughing fits – he’s old, but hardy.

In three hours on the water we see a lot of birds: eagles, kingfishers, herons, ducks, and loads of other birds we don’t recognize (our guide doesn’t speak English except for the word ‘down’ he yells at us whenever there’s a bridge ahead), plus a water snake, mangrove trees and lots of coconut trees, as well as the odd person washing their clothes in the murky water. We’re enjoying every second of it, it’s peaceful and beautiful out here, so much so that we decide to stay here for a second day.

We’re allowed to relax on the patio now and also go for a bike ride around the island. Tomorrow we will try to get a train back to Kollam (the note below we found stuck on a shut ticket counter today, but the 8AM train is hopefully still running) and then an 8-hour public ferry to our next stop: Alleppey.