Travellers on a boat

After a night halt at Kochi, we covered the hour and half required to take us to the pristine beauty called Kumarakom, a tourist village that is a cluster of islands on the eastern banks of the sea-sized Vembanad lake. Located in between the lake and a network of calm backwaters, the village is accessible by road.

With coconut palms standing everywhere, never-ending paddy fields, meandering lagoons and backwaters, mangroves and nesting birds of variety, the place seemed perfect to energise our minds.

The ideal pastime there would be to float on the tranquil waters. The resort we checked into even had ‘lake-facing rooms’, and all the activities at the resort had something to do with the lake. But first we had to learn the pronunciation of Kumarakom — like everybody else trying there. We had to make sure that ‘Kom’ did not sound like the surname of Mary Kom, but sounded like the word ‘come’. It took a bit of rehearsing but once we had perfected this, we focussed on the emerald peninsula, which juts into the ever-effervescent Vembanad Lake, the largest backwater in Kerala.

Onboard boathouse

Since our agenda was ‘tranquillity’, we decided to go on a backwater cruise on the placid lake. On reaching a houseboat jetty, we saw a cluster of beautiful boathouses waiting for us. These modern contraptions, evolved from what earlier were traditional rice boats used to transport rice, floated leisurely and allowed us to watch areas of paddy cultivation along the banks of the lagoon. The houseboats were ubiquitous, offering luxurious furnishing, accommodation, sun decks, hot and cold water — everything one needs for a comfortable journey.

Having recently read Arundhati Roy’s Booker Prize-winning novel, The God of Small Things, we imagined the detailed description of Aymanam, the village surrounded by paddy fields, lying near Kumarakom and Kottayam, with Lake Vembanad bordering its western side and River Meenachil flowing through it.

We decided to go to Kottayam for lunch. It’s a town 14 km away from Kumarakom, and is the home district of Saint Alphonsa, the first woman to be conferred sainthood from the Kerala Church. Her tomb in nearby Bharananganam is a pilgrimage centre, which has reported occurrence of innumerable miracles. We were amazed to see bakeries everywhere and ended up having lunch inside one.

An accompaniment was the karimeen, a freshwater fish species that has Vembanad lake as its habitat. The attendant told us that the fish, called ‘pearl spot’ in English, is revered as a delicacy. It is cooked in a special way — wrapped in banana leaves, pan roasted and then served on the table. The name instantly conjures up images of backwater cuisine, the reason why many restaurants in Bengaluru and other parts of the country are named ‘Karimeen’.

Next we visited the Kumarakom Bird Sanctuary. The sanctuary, which was earlier a rubber plantation, appeared as an ornithologist’s paradise, sprawled across the lake. We were told this is a favourite hub for migratory birds — more than 60 species flock here every year. We unsuccessfully tried to differentiate between native and migratory birds with the help of the catalogue we carried. We couldn’t see Siberian cranes either, regular visitors who relish the serenity of the backwaters.
Then we attempted to trace the History House, an important part of Arundhati Roy’s novel. A posh hotel complex stands there now. The bungalow on the muddy land is a place of immense interest for tourists like us — a grand but silent reminder of a bygone age.

Built in the 1880s by British Missionary Alfred George Baker, Baker House was a Victorian two-storied bungalow with huge teak wood rafters packed with mud as a base on the lake bed. The early English settler was referred to as Kari Saipu by the locals. The bungalow was home for four generations of the Baker family for over a hundred years. They had settled here by clearing the mangrove and replacing it with coconut plantations. Their settlement became a catalyst for development in the area. The Baker family’s house is in ruins in the novel, as it was in actuality before being developed into a hotel.

Musings

Back at the resort, we reverted to our favourite pastime of gazing at the lake and taking in the stunning views of nature. It was splendid to see a houseboat passing by. Once in a while, a canoe with a solitary oarsman would make its way through the maze of lagoons, brooks, canals and waterways. Former prime minister Atal Bihari Vajpayee had done the same when he spent his year-end vacation in 2000 here, and then wrote My Musings From Kumarakom.

We had been there and done that. We had traced the same landscape that had been eloquently described in a Booker Prize-winning novel. We had understood why gaping at the beauty of the backwaters made folks prone to musing. We now knew why this scenic beauty had started attracting a steady stream of visitors, much like us, all wanting to partake of God’s own country. This was truly the essence of back water tourism — the calm waters and the lush green paddy fields. We experienced contentment.