Island – the word evokes memories of childhood classics such as Robinson Crusoe, The Swiss Family Robinson and Treasure Island. These were some of my favourite books and there have been times I have wondered what it would be like to be actually marooned on an island, cut off from the rest of the world. Well, I live on an island (Bombay), but there is no feeling of being cut off from the world – in fact, it is more crowded and noisier than many other cities, and there doesn’t seem to be the remotest chance of my being marooned on some uninhabited island. So much for fantasies……

However, this vacation brought the fantasy as near to fact as it is possible in these days of faster and more efficient methods of communication, when we visited Poovar.

When my husband first suggested Poovar for our annual vacation, I asked him, “Where on earth is that?” So much for my awareness of places in my own country! He told me to look it up on a map, and that is when I realized that it was an island! That is what began my fascination with the place. The fascination grew when I learnt that it wasn’t just an island. There was a river merging with the sea, backwaters galore and the wide open sea all around! Just imagine – this is a place which is an island, set at the mouth of an estuary, with a beach on one side and backwaters on the other, with small lakes all over! This was a place which captured my imagination at once!

We flew down to Trivandrum, my son jumping with excitement at the sight of the vast blue sea and the deep green palm trees welcoming us to God’s own country. We spent a day at Trivandrum, visiting the temples and palace before heading out to Poovar. Instead of hiring a car, we decided to take an auto, a decision which turned to be wise, as our driver kept us regaled with his pronouncements about all the tourists who turned up.

The auto dropped us at the Poovar jetty, from where we took a boat to the Club Mahindra Floating Palms resort, where we had booked rooms. The ride is free for those who have reservations, but I wonder how many people actually turn up at such a remote place without reservations!

The ride to the resort was a wonderful journey, as we passed fishing boats with locals in them, the backwaters lined with cormorants. My son, who is just getting to recognize birds, squealed excitedly as a kingfisher swooped down to catch a fish, and a cormorant turned towards us lazily, perhaps wondering why humans were staring at them and pointing them out to others!

At the resort, we found that we had not been lucky enough to get one of the floating cottages, but the rooms we got were good, built amidst pools of water, and connected by wooden bridges. This again excited my son, who noticed fishes and crabs in the water, and spent most of the day standing on the bridges, looking out for them!

We spent three days at Poovar – three glorious days, when we did nothing but relax. It was hot in the afternoons, but the mornings and evenings were just right for a leisurely walk. The high point of the stay though was the backwater cruise.

The local fishing boat was itself a novelty, but even more were the fabulous sights. Green was obviously the dominant colour, closely followed by blue, but before this trip, I wouldn’t have been able to imagine so many shades of just these two colours! We took a cruise around the island, observing the darker shades of the backwaters as they merged into the lighter shade of the sea, the whole stretch of blue bordered by the green – lush green grasses and palm trees. It was difficult to distinguish between bluish-green and greenish-blue, and I was as excited as my son when we saw a purple heron disappearing into the foliage.

Amongst all these outpourings of nature were a few rude awakenings too, as we realized that this was not the only resort in this place. There were two others, one recently built, catering to the masses of tourists arriving in the peak season, and more were coming up! As we turned back towards home, lingering a while to see the sun set over the horizon, I could not help, but wonder if the place would manage to retain its identity and abundance of natural beauty a few years from now.

I am no water baby. I prefer water at a close but safe distance – close enough for me to be able to hear the myriad gentle sounds that water makes but far enough for me to feel safe about not drowning (yes, I know but we all have different fears). Cherai is perfect for me that way – just what the doctor ordered. The Cherai Beach Resort where I stay has cottages built around the water, and around the coconut trees – my room had a tree in one corner, growing out through the roof. From my room, I can see the backwaters stretching out blue and green, still but for the occasional splash splash of boats making their way across, or the sea gulls calling out to one another. And from the main gate, the beach is just across the road – Cherai, not yet Goa, not even Kovalam.

At dinner in the restaurant, a couple from Europe walk in with a Bisleri bottle filled with a thin white liquid – toddy. The restaurant manager freaks at the sight of the toddy, hurries into the kitchen and walks out with a sheet of silver foil. He proceeds to cover the Bisleri bottle with the foil, apologizing to the startled couple – no permit… cannot drink in restaurant… can give you tea cups… I overhear snatches of his speech, ears on their table, eyes on my book. He places white tea cups (with saucers, the terrible restaurant variety) in front of them, pours out the toddy into the cups and offers them the cups with a flourish. The couple is terribly embarrassed by now, and I am choking with laughter over my tender coconut water – drunk straight from the coconut, no tea cups for this one.

I could spend hours just staring the backwaters – and I do just that. Watching the birds swoop down to pick up their lunch – or evening snack, as the case may be. And the tiny fish go plop plop as they hop – or do they fly? – on the surface of the calm water. And the fishermen who paddle quietly across the water through the day. As I watch, dawns break over the backwaters, the sky slowly picking up the orange hues of the sun, the water reflecting the tones. Three fishing boats moving in synchronized fashion, they stop at the same spot, their boats forming a triangle of sorts, and spread out their nets at the same time, their hands flying out with the nets in some kind of fascinating water ballet. And then they move on a few meters along the water and the ballet begins all over again.

Another fishing boat comes very close to where I am standing, just by the side of the water inside the resort and I am able to see them in action – one man in charge of rowing and the other, of fishing. Against the morning sun, the waters, their boat and even their silhouettes seem a dull orange… and as they turn the corner, moving away from the sun, they reappear in dull greys and black and white, in some ways even more fascinating than the “color version”.

The Cherai backwaters are not as lively, as vibrant and full of activity as the ones in say, Alleppey where life exists on and along the water. There are few houses I can see on the banks, even during my hour long boat ride in the evening. But then, Cherai is not for those who crave activity. In any case, if the backwaters get too dull, then they can always head out to the beach just across the road…