Varkala to Alappuhza (or Alleppey) - 120 km

I'm convinced that the first trailblazers into evey third world are German.  I know this not only because of all the Germans I meet on the road, but also because of the puzzling presence of 'German Bakeries' from Sihanookville, Cambodia to Varkala Beach, India.  I woke my first morning in Varkala intending to ride, but I was even more determined to beat a nagging cold.  So, I navigated on foot the 200 meters through the cocunut groves to the cliff (which is the center for all activity at Varkala Beach) and became overwhelmed by the number of breakfast and food choices:  2 German Bakeries, the Swiss Cafe, Cafe Italiano, Jicky's for juevos rancheros and even the French Creperie.  The biggest draw at all these places is the availability of something simply referred to as 'Brown Bread' (meaning, you don't have to eat the usual thin sliced wonder bread).  But after Kovalam, I wasn't in the mood for another travelers cafe so I trudged in the hot sun 4 kays into Varkala Town where I found a proper Indian breakfast and my Milk Coffee Man.

Incredibly satiated, I fell into a Varkala time void for the next two days.  I can't exactly say where the time went, but the days were crammed with reading, dining and dips in the Arabian Sea.  There were also plenty of westerners to keep me entertained, all of whom were enrolled in one or more yoga and ayuverdic retreats.  Indeed, Varkala is not India at all.   By virtue of the restaurants alone I'm sure you could ascertain, it's a settlement of far-out westerners from all over the world.  

After too many days of too many quacks engaging in auyverdic treatments for sleep apnea to hang nails, I was ready to return to raw India and a different world.  I met Canada early the morning of February 9th for a short (35 kays) and incredibly lovely ride up the coast to Kollam.  Contrary to our wholly insufficient maps, we found a back road up the coast passing through peaceful fishing villages with names like Capill and Kakkadukai.   The road winds east and dropped us on N47 only 12 kays outside of Kollam where we had precious little time to follow a well-placed and friendly rickshaw driver to the boat to take us to Alleppey.

Kollam is the southern gateway for one of the most popular (and worthy) Kerala activities: cruising the network of over 1900 km of backwater canals.  For us, it was a welcome opportunity to see a side of India we didn't know existed and cover another 80+ km north off the saddle.  As a general rule, I can be pretty skeptical about boat tours that take tourists to contrived stops to see how the local wool is weaved or bread baked.  Inclusive in the price is usually 3,000 snotty-nosed kids all asking for a pen.  This had none of that.  Taking our bikes with no extra charge, we settled into our deck seats and slowly (8 hours) meandered through postcard scenery.  Each side of the canal was smothered in coconut trees with intermittent simple rural homes.  The primary economic activity on the canal is fishing (closely followed by house-boating).  There are small schools of skinny fishermen casting their nets from one-person wooden boats, large claw-like Chinese-style fishing nets draped over the canals, single speedo-adorned divers who would disappear and re-emerge with buckets of mussels and, my personal favorite, Kingfisher birds diving for their fill.    And so for 8 hours we were contentedly entertained by birds and a tranquility I didn't know existed.

Alleppy is known as the Venice of India and arriving at sunset proved it true.  It's one of the more romantic places in India where you can be paddled through narrow canals on gondola-like boats.   Outside of the canals, the town center at night is nothing special.  I only found a scuzzy guesthouse run by a bitter man and an inordinate number of tacky gold jewelery shops.   Canada found a more upscale retreat where we agreed to meet in the morning.

I was under the mosquito netting early for a much needed soundless sleep. 

Ride Strong! (from Cochin, India)

 

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