Om shanti

Wed 20th Nov - Starting Yoga

Before leaving the UK, one big bucket list item for both of us was to learn yoga. We thought this would be an easy box to tick in India, the home of yoga, but so far we hadn't found anywhere that felt right or where we could commit enough time to properly learn.

In Fort Cochin, we had time on our side, a house we could practice in, and yoga was advertised everywhere.

We'd taken a morning out to make some enquiries. Some lessons were too expensive, and some too early in the morning. At the SVM Ayurvedic Centre, we could book a 5-day course for £3 per person, and it started at 8 am. It was the most suitable deal we'd found, and after our traumatic morning where we'd attempted to join the free 6:30 am yoga group and failed miserably, the start time was favourable.

We waited outside SVM at 7:40, and it was all closed up. The mama up the road, who does cooking lessons, spotted us and asked if we were waiting for yoga and if we'd booked. Thinking the class happened daily, we hadn't booked and thought we could just rock up and join in. Mama Lilu sent us to her husband, who phoned the yoga teacher.

We waited in their cosy little porch while Mr Lilu explained some of the history of the house, the village, his career, and traditional Keralan food. Soon enough, our yoga teacher arrived in a tuk-tuk. His yoga class was out of town, so we jumped in the tuk-tuk and explained that we were very beginner but enthusiastic.

He said that many people come to him and they just want to learn yoga poses, but without any foundation and true understanding, this is just like gymnastics. He offered us a 5-day course where we would start with the basics and build up to a few poses.

This sounded perfect. Neither of us were too fussed about being able to hold complex poses; we mainly wanted to get our sun salutations locked and get some of the foundations in place to continue learning on our own.

We drove into a bit of town we'd not been to before. It was a very Hindu part of Cochin, very different from the European Catholic area where our house is. We stopped the tuk-tuk next to a vegetable stall and walked through an alley to an old brick staircase. The top of the stairs sloped up and to the right. Looking back out onto the road was the little studio.

We removed our shoes and stepped inside. The blue-walled room had a heavy stone floor and big iron-framed windows. On the wall was a large framed photo of a man who we later found out to be the Hindu messiah. Although sparse, the room was cosy and felt like a good place to start our introduction.

We were the only students, enabling us to get a completely tailored, intensive course.

Our instructor, Manoj Kumar, gave a very comprehensive introduction into the art of yoga. He also talked about our soul and God, a lot. He even had a book with illustrations to demonstrate what the soul is, where it is, how it uses the body as a vehicle, etc.

It was all very interesting, and although not quite up our street in terms of religious belief, we decided to fully accept and embrace everything to get the most out of the course.

We started with simple breathing exercises, triangle poses, crocodile pose, sheep pose, and then we did meditation. Tomorrow we would repeat everything from today and start sun salutations.

We were both so very happy that we'd waited until now to start learning yoga. Everything about it felt right, and we were getting one-on-one lessons from a real Indian Yoga Charya.

For the afternoon, we'd decided to get a bus to Alleppey to check out the backwaters and get some prices for the houseboats.

We started our day out at the Pepper House, a beautiful heritage building on the waterfront, where we indulged in the first bacon sarnie since the UK... although this was a bacon, pear, and cheddar sandwich. Not quite thick cut and ketchup, but pretty damn good all the same.

I queued in the smaller 'women's' queue to get our tickets. We debated this segregation and decided it was designed for the safety of the women as opposed to chauvinism. With no 'queuing' system, any ticket purchasing process is rowdy, to say the least, with much pushing, shoving, queue jumping, and inevitably arguing.

Ticket in hand, we walked to the queue for the entrance into the boat. Again segregated, but taking no notice, I joined Jamie in the men's queue only to be redirected back to be with the women by an Indian chap.

On the mainland, we started to make our way to the train station and stumbled upon a ticket booth. Here we were told that the next train wasn't until 3 pm, so we turned back and managed to grab a bus.

The 1.5-hour journey was pretty smooth. We actually ended up coming from the mainland, over the bridge, and back onto Cochin, meaning we could have saved a good hour of travel by simply catching the bus at the bridge.

At Alleppey, it was busy. We instantly got hassled for boat trips, ferries, houseboats, motorboats, and tuk-tuks. Wanting to get away from the crowd and have a beer, we headed for the Harbour Restaurant.

This ended up being about a 6 km walk down the canal, where we were accosted by cheery schoolchildren all keen to practice their English. We arrived exhausted and hungry.

They weren't serving food until the evening, so we settled for a beer & crisps and enjoyed the rest.

Just before we were about to go, Jamie popped to the loo, and an Indian man who'd been sat a few tables down came over to chat with me.

"Busted!" Jamie called out as he came back. Not quite getting the joke, the Indian man looked blankly.

He stayed and chatted to us about his Ayurvedic course and his new job. He was absolutely wired and kept having laughing fits, then apologising. Next, he told us about his piles. Yes, his PILES.

At this point, I excused myself to go to the bathroom, and when I came back, we said goodbye and left.

We grabbed a tuk-tuk back to the bus station and checked out a houseboat. With some haggling, we could get it for £45 for a night, including all meals. It was old but clean and comfortable.

We decided we'd make enquiries back in Fort Cochin, where we'd seen brand-new boats advertised at £40.

After dealing with several rude conductors, we found our bus and made it back home.

Completely exhausted, tired, and a little irritable, we grabbed a quick dinner in town.

On the walk back, some guy was like, "Hey, remember me?" This usually leads to some scam or "You promised you'd visit my shop" and harassment.

Close to breaking point after a day of people trying to sell us every mode of transport to see the backwaters, Jamie was about to take out all of his frustration on this poor lad when he said, "I'm your neighbour."

Phew. It was pretty close to being a really embarrassing, awkward situation.

"Do you guys wanna be in a movie? We're filming at a beach tomorrow and need two more people to be extras. The scene is a wedding, and you'll be playing the guests."

After almost being in an advert yesterday which never came to fruition, we both happily agreed.

We'd be picked up at 12:30, be fed and watered, and be in an Indian movie. Wicked.