July 2022

Kerala is a lush, green state where India’s mountains meet the sea. It was my second trip to Kerala and my sixth trip to India. I wanted to see the system of canals, lakes, and estuaries known as the Kerala backwaters. The backwaters are famous for having picturesque riverside communities and a boating culture; a bit like the Florida Everglades or the Louisiana Bayou in the US. Locals with canoes make a living poling tourists around its shallow tributaries.

The trip was the bookend to a business trip in a neighboring southern India state. On my last day at the office, I caught an overnight train Kerala’s largest city, Kochi. A short walk from the station I rented a motorcycle at a shop called Royal Brothers. Nearly all bikes available for rent in India are Royal Enfield. The archetypal Indian bike is the Royal Enfield Bullet. The 350cc cafe style cruiser would be fine for the weekend trip I had planned. My destination was a rural community at called Munroe Island 200 kms to the south at the edge of Lake Ashtamudi.

Short on time before my flight home, I took the the interstate for the first leg of the trip. What the interstate lacked in charm it made up in adrenaline and diesel soot. The largest vehicle has the unofficial right of way in India and the road didn’t have a barrier as a lane divider. I spent the first 3 hours dodging the trucks that frequently barreled into my lane. It was the only option that could get me back in time for my flight the next day. I took another risk on Kerala’s monsoon season. I narrowly missed being caught by a downpour twice. Fruitstands sustained me and gave me moments to catch my breath.

The highway transitioned to a single lane as it turned inland. It twisted through a dozen small hamlets before it crossed a short bridge to the island. I booked a room at a small resort popular with locals and hired a canoe for a pre-dawn cruise through the canals.

My gondolier met me before daylight. We left early so we could see the sunrise and avoid the torrential rains that hit like clockwork at 9AM. The canals intersect the interior of the island and are lined with temples, cottages, and fish farms. Birdsong echoed from the mangroves and music reverberated from a temple across the lake as the sun came up. On our way back, crab fishermen dived from dugout canoes and raked the bottom with frames of wire mesh. Their brawny forearms glistened as they sifted the mud above the surface.