Christmas in Kochi

  After some of the unpleasantness in Munnar, we were ready to move on to Kochi. We took a local bus to Ernakulam, the business district of Kochi, and then a red city bus to Fort Kochi. Now that one was an experience. With our big backpacks, we crammed into the seats directly by the driver. I felt like I was sitting on the hood of the bus, with a prime view of the driver's skills (a young dude with Top Gun aviators) of weaving in and out of traffic. The only thing that kept my heart from palpitating was knowledge that I've been in similar situations before, and Indian drivers more than proved their abilities. Until we hit another bus. On the side where I was sitting. Thankfully, the old metal boxes were so sturdy that I doubt more than a scratch remained. Only our driver's pride was bruised, as he left in a hurry amid curses from the other guy. This entire ride was to the accompaniment of an eclectic mixed tape, including Lil Wayne, some Spanish crooner and Backstreet Boys, played so loud you thought your eardrums would pop. Pawel sang to the latter. I pretended not to know him, even though he was the only other foreigner on the bus.

  After some looking around, we found a decent hotel, but right by the main road. The redeeming quality was its free WiFi, important to us since we wanted to get in touch with our families at Christmas time.

  Fort Kochi is an old Portugese port, enticing traders for the last 600 years. The promise of its sleepy charm was dimmed by the masses of tourists, in town for the holidays. The white-washed buildings weren't so white anymore. The beach was polluted by mounds of trash. The famous Chinese fishing nets were impressive, although their redundancy in comparison to modern fishing techniques became apparent when an hour of intensive labor brought in one flimsy fish (which was promptly snatched by a crow). On top of it, the air was so humid and sticky it attracted swarms of mosquitoes. The food was mostly mediocre, although seaside fish stalls sold some fresh seafood, which you could then take to any restaurant and have it cooked your way. The trick was finding the right restaurant.

Polluted beach at Fort Kochi

Chinese fishnets

  But it was Christmas, and we were determined to celebrate, Polish-style. We made a dinner reservation for Christmas Eve at a hotel with some great ambiance (ha, turns out better ambiance than food). After dinner, we attended a midnight mass, half in English and half in the local Malayalam, at the magnificent Santa Cruz Basilica. There was room at the front, and we sat, cross-legged, shoes off, staring wide-eyed at the elegant church and its beautiful decorations. It was a Catholic mass, but, as is true in most of India, all religions were welcome. I try to attend midnight mass every year, but I have to say this one was one of the most moving. The only surprise came when the bishop unveiled the newborn Jesus edify, all the lights went out (no surprise there given the constant power outages in India), and loud popping fireworks went off outside. It took a second to figure out they were only fireworks. Heart attack averted.  We walked back to the hotel among a celebrating crowd, and made some well-wishing Skype calls back home.

Christmas Eve dinner

Our reservation - we felt special

Santa Cruz Basilica

Too bad the decorations were turned off

  Now it was time to figure out how to travel on, hard considering it was high season. But my smart bf already unraveled the complicated Indian rail system. For a fee (200 rupees or about $4), through a system called Taktal, P went to the train station before 10AM to buy tickets, which the rail holds back from the original sales and releases only the day before the departure. He got tickets for trains that have been overbooked for months. Happy with our cleverness, we leave on the 27^th (I think? we lose track of time now) for Gokarna, our NYE destination.

In case you missed our faces :)