We triumphantly found our seats, which were comfier than your average national rail offering, I even almost texted my family as I was so pleased with my success. Lissy rang hers. Then came the ticket inspector: perhaps it is by a secret code that ticket inspectors worldwide are total wankers. "Get up, get up, get out of this carriage", with 40 minutes of the 135min journey we'd done so well, albeit illegally - we were dumped next to the doors, one of which was flapping open.
We arrived at Johnson's in alleppey - run by the ginger-dyed, zealous Johnson, a very cool Indian with a tendency to "balance on his head whilst listening to trance music" (Tripadvisor). Having dumped our gear and fled - far too many beards and piercings on display - we explored alleppey, touring the beach (not unlike West Wittering), the spice market (Lissy's hand smelt like tikka masala for days after), and the "tourist office", where we conducted frustrating conversation regarding houseboat hire with the proprietors.
Disappointed (and chased on motorbike by a boat-owner hoping to close a deal), we returned to Johnson's, where we found Johnson, astonishingly on his feet, rather than head.
"Oh guys I've been searching for you, my houseboat has been repaired - do you want it until tomorrow lunchtime?" Bingo.
We spent the evening on the houseboat which was moored on the backwaters outside alleppey; a ridiculously tranquil/beaut location. The houseboat was huuuuuge, with hanging chairs downstairs beside the ginormous table, and a top deck with bedroom upstairs. As the evening grew dark, and candles were lit so we could see the vast amounts of food laid out, it felt like we were out of Heart of Darkness, minus the psychological anguish.
With love
Photos below: train malarkey, the carriage to which we were expelled,fellow yoloist, creepy sign; houseboat pt1
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