When was the last time an ad for a hotel or service translated into exactly what was promised? It’s not often, which is why my expectations were low and suspicions high upon arrival for an overnight stay on the famous houseboats of Kerala. Travelers interested in journeying to South India are inundated with iconic pictures of houseboats floating in perfectly pristine backdrops. It was my goal to find out what the fuss was all about during my journey through the southern states of India.

Traditional South Indian houseboat floating the backwaters of Kerala

With my female travel partner in tow, our driver parked along a narrow single lane road (of course used for two way traffic) where we were met by a stocky, authoritative figure whose hand was outstretched to greet me long before we connected. Smiles all around, our luggage was quickly taken away by our greeter and a young Keralite boy. Bearings were lost, confusion was setting in and our driver was waving goodbye as the dust from his tires kicked out from behind his Mahindra car. We had no choice now but to walk toward the water.

Boats awaiting new arrivals are moored three deep along the seawalls. Passengers must climb onto and walk through doorways expertly parked in coordination of up to 2 others boats before finally stepping onto the designated boat tied to the outer row. Like magic the luggage has arrived before us, waiting in the bedroom. We’re now passed off to the crew of 3 sheepish men who act as if they are afraid of their own shadow. Handshakes, smiles and hello’s…welcome drinks, the engine erupts in startled frenzy as the boat chugs away from the shore.

Manesh: Cook; Short in stature yet large in personality with a head full of thick jet black hair. In his mid-twenties, he is single, carefree and the consummate ladies man. No marriage just yet for this talkative clown who likes to laugh while ensuring his guests are never hungry.

Rajesh: Engine Keeper; Timid & reserved, it took some time to crack his shell. Married with a child on the way, our new friend had a mysterious side and an “old soul” as they say. If he wasn’t out back tending to the motor we could find him, arms outstretched, sitting against the boat enjoying the wind.

Tonby: Captain; The oldest of our crew, professional and constantly surprising me with his candor. He answered my unending cannon-fire rounds of questions with amazing honesty while keeping his eye on the two other crewmen and maintaining our comfort on-board as well as on shore.

We easily made ourselves at home in the front room consisting of a dining table (seating for 4), two wicker arm chairs facing forward and full length cushioned seats attached to the boat side. Glassless large window cutaways on both sides offer picture quality views of the passing countryside as well as much needed breezes to temper the heat and humidity of the South’s weather. Up front, a wide bench seat, firm cushions and seat back railing are the only obstacles blocking the fully open expanse. Captain Tonby sits in his chair in a perfectly perched front setting to overhear the conversations of his guests. Rich, dark lacquered wood trim, railings, and molding run throughout the cabin in a simple elegance. Chindi rugs cover the floor in a natural khaki color perfect for the bare foot or sandals.

Twin beds fitted with crisp, tightly made white linens awaited us in the bedroom. An overhead fan plus an A/C unit were welcome sights although the glassed in windows can be opened. As expected, no radio, TV or internet is on-board. Luggage racks fitted in the lacquered wood seen up front line the wall leading to the en suite toilet. A small writing desk and closet provide a sense of comfort for guests that might choose privacy over views. Inside the efficient bathroom, clean modern facilities including a shower and western toilet are usable at all times. And yes, hot water comes standard.

A snack is offered shortly after departure but can be enjoyed anytime. Stay hungry for the full dinner presented as you wish. An option for fresh fish can be accepted with a stop at the local fish market along the waterway.

Delicious dinner with fresh fish picked up along the way

While enjoying the passing greenery of trees mixed with rice and sugar cane fields of the narrow canals, locals would call out to the crew asking about us, the guinea pigs for the night. Where were we from, how were we treating the crew? As this subsided and we ventured into Vembanad Lake, an expansive body of water filled with small islands and wild birds our captain cheerfully named for us, my travel partner and I bombarded the three men with rapid fire questions about the boat, their jobs, previous guests, home life and more. Our boat was just 3 years old. Meticulously cared for, the painted walls were spotless, the bathroom neat and clean. Every year the roof is re-thatched while the exterior is repainted. The diesel engine hidden below that chugged and churned away at slow speeds was actually capable of 30 kms but kept to a crawl to avoid large wakes for other boats and fragile seawalls. What of the state name of Kerala? Kera means coconut tree. In the state’s official language of Malayalam, Kerala means many coconut trees. And just the night before us, the crew welcomed two young foreign ladies. After a night of excess drinking, one fell ill requiring the crew to take them by torchlight to the ferry where they were shuttled off to the local hospital. A sleepless night resulted in the guests returning in time for breakfast, big thank yous but no gratuity for their effort. You win some, lose some but the crew seems to take it in stride.

Laundry done at the source. Personal ghats make bathing and hygiene easy

Once the boat is moored for the night, along an island’s seawalls located in the big lake of the backwaters, guests are given the option to walk. The only footpath is the seawall of the outer edge of this island, which inland, houses rice fields. My curious side led me a great distance away from the cavalry of houseboats (all from the same company) parked next to ours. Yet strangely, my travel partner and I were the only tourists to venture out. We discovered an entirely different world of shanties built right up to the water’s edge housing workers of the rice fields. Miniature gardens were growing the family’s most basic food needs, laundry lines were strung with drying clothes, free range chickens squawked and shuffled out of our way as we walked past small ghat like steps. Each house had built 2-3 narrow steps leading into the water for bathing. Toothbrushes, combs and other personal products were neatly organized by each household’s personal ghat.

Sun was setting against the backdrop of the rice fields. From a distance we could hear a temple calling out to it’s followers. How one could reach it was a question unanswered. An entire community lives among the backwaters here and the only way to move around is by the ferry shuttling passengers from dock to dock. What appears as a maze of canals to us was nothing more than a water roadway for the locals. Fascinating.

After a long walk that saw us leaving in daylight but now returning in dusk, our captain had set out to retrieve us. Doubtful that he was worried, like a mother tends to her flock, he just needed to account for his guests. We recounted our walkabout to him with returns of smiles, questions and laughter. He was opening up, sharing tidbits of his life, talking about his wife and kids. This was all he knew, being a captain. New guests everyday. Did he enjoy his job? Of course. He was doing what he loved.

Nightfall set in. We learned earlier in the day that one crew member went home to their family each night. So every third night they would return home and continue this routine throughout the season. Alone in our bedroom, my travel partner and I could hear the sounds of generators roaring to fuel the A/C units of each houseboat in succession. The next morning I awoke early to find Manesh and Tonby strewn about the front room. Thick diesel fumes from the generators permeated the air. It was hard to comprehend sleeping in that every night.

K and the crew...good times

When I returned just a few minutes later, showered, dressed and refreshed from a decent night sleep, Rajesh had returned, the front room had been put back together and breakfast was almost ready. No matter how much insisting I did the crew would not enjoy breakfast with my travel bud and me. We had broken the 4th wall the day before in conversation, sharing stories, learning secrets about other guests long before us, and tips for traveling in the future. Yet, to sit at the table and break bread was beyond the professional code they adhered to.

As soon as breakfast was cleared the boats shoved off from the island we called home for only 11 hours. Within an hour we would reconnect with our driver in the same spot he left us not 20 hours before. Although a whirlwind in some ways, the experience on the houseboat took me further into the culture of India.

Breakfast aboard the houseboat before disembarking

Tonby, the seemingly fearless captain taught me how to tie a lungi. With no embarrassment he striped to his speedos, tied and untied his cloth like a father teaching an American kid how to wear a tie for the first time. Rajesh, the quietly introspective engine keeper and father-to-be, taught me about marriage brokers and his experience meeting prospective brides. And Manesh, a home learned cook extraordinaire, taught me the value of asking and bargaining. Knowing I was in search of coins, he broke the shared bank of the crew collected over months and sold me enough Rs 1, 2 and 5 coins to fuel my tipping needs for weeks.

So what’s all the fuss about the famous houseboats of Kerala? Friends, conversation and fun while exploring some of the most beautiful sights of India; A South Indian itinerary would not be complete without this adventure.