Our overnight trip to Cochin is hideous, to say the very least; literally crawling with bugs. And the prying eyes of Indian men, who stare at us all night. Lovely.
By the time we get to Cochin, we are kanckered and crabby, and resolve to do absolutely nothing, apart from watch dreadfully bad films. "Son of the Mask," anyone? (I know, who knew The Mask had a sequel?!)
When we do finally venture out, we discover that Cochin is actually a rather nice city. It's divided in to 2 parts; the more modern Ernakulum, and the older Fort Cochi. We are staying right by the boat jetty in Ernalkulum, but luckily our budget can just about stretch to the Rs 2.5 (2 p) ferry fee to get to Fort Cochi. Phewf.
Over on Fort Cochi, we wander around taking in the sights; the beautiful St Francis Xavier Chruch (and also burial place of the Vasco da Gama) the old spice markets and the Chinese Fishing Nets, which land catch throughout the day and sell fish and seafood to (mostly) tourists, who then take what they buy to nearby hotels, who are only too happy to cook the catch. It's a cool idea, though the seafood looks a bit limp, smells like hell and is covered in flies. Going vegetarian, for sure.
We discover that Cochin is one of the only places in Kerala where you can see traditional Keralan dance/theatre performances called Kathakali on a daily basis, so we find a performance to go to one night. Apparently it takes about 10 years to learn Kathakali, which is essentially a silent story told through the medium of dance, eye movements and hand movements. The costumes are incredible and really elaborate - men with thick (almost grotesque) facial makeup, heavy dresses with a wide skirt and lots of jangly jewellery. Unfortunately, our first experience of Kathakali is a bit disappointing. The venue is more-or-less a shed on the outskirts of Ernakulum, and there are 8 other people there to watch the one-man-show (which means escape without drawing attention to ourselves is impossible!). The actor also seems to be really bored throughout the entire performance too, and lacks energy. Throughout the whole thing, me and Lisa can't help exchanging confused looks, and mouthing "I don't get it" to each other. So when it comes to signing the visitors book, we both agree that "good makeup" is a diplomatic and fair assessment of the show.
The next day, due to a petrol-price hike there is a national strike in India, so most businesses and shops are closed. Much to delight though, we find a branch of Cafe Coffee Day - the Indian Starbucks - and head in for cake and coffee. Whilst there, we get chatting to 2 Indian guys called Paul and Joe. And this sparks of the strangest chain of events that can only be described as "classic Charlotte and Lisa."
First of all, they take us to a fake bookshop, where I can get copies of pretty much any book, at mega-cheap Indian prices. So i stock up, glad to have not been totally ripped off. From there, they invite us to Sunday mass at St Francis Xavier Church. As you do. Not usually how I get my kicks, but when in India....
The church is packed out, and as we take our seats, I can't help but feel like a total fraud. I'm not very good at religion, and I'm sure the priest will be able so sniff out my sins (of which there are many) a mile away. But we stick it out (the whole 2 hours of it!), whilst hymns are sung to the tune of Pet Shops Boys classics including "Go West" and a variety of old Elvis songs. Strange but true.
After the church-date Paul and Joe (who is has become apparent are mega-rich) take us to the Cochin Yacht Club for drinks. I look grungy and probably smell like feet, so not exactly the desired yacht club clientele, but on the promise of vodka I'm persuaded. We lounge around there for a couple of hours idly chewing the fat, before Paul and Joe invite us to Dreamz (yes, with a z...so pretentious that I am cringing thinking about it), a very exclusive nightclub in the city usually frequented by Bollywood stars. So, dressed in beachy clothes and flip-flops, the four of hit up Dreamz. Me and Lisa needn't have worried about looking out of place though, because (fashion-wise, at least) India is stuck in a time warp. Flares and inappropriately tight shirts are the order of the day. Sexy.
When Dreamz (still cringing) shuts at the very-late till of 12.30, we go back to Joe's house for some drinks (NB neither me nor Lisa had any say in this). What began the day as 2 nice guys helping some gals buy books has now turned in to a bit of a creep fest, and both Paul and Joe are pushing their luck (Paul: "Lisa, can I put my arm around you?" Lisa: "No. Don't touch me.") So we demand that they return us home, which thankfully they do. Though typically our hotel is now all-locked up, and in our drunken loudness, I think we manage to wake up half of Cochin trying to get in.
I warned you...classic Charlotte and Lisa!
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