The decks are laden with coir matting, and the distinctive canopy uses split bamboo, lashed together with coir and covered with palm fronds.Note the winged awnings, that, when raised, give the houseboat a distinctly rakish air. Legend has it that they're a Chinese influence, (like the fishing nets). Be that as it may, we put in a few extra ones, to take full advantage of the breeze, and so you can get a better look at the view. You are on the boats' forward sundeck, comfortably ensconced in a rosewood-and-cane easy chair. Before you is a 19th century table and upon it is a fresh coconut, its water spiked with lime. Your boat moves towards the mouth of the Kavanar river at a scorching 6 miles an hour. Hmmm. It would be a fight to keep your eyelids from closing, except that a refreshingly soft breeze angles in westerly, off the Vembanad lake. It carries the cries of distant darter birds, surprisingly loud over the watersYou move upstream, and the gentle life of another world unfolds around you. A man, for some reason, gives his pig a bath on the riverside steps. A child smiles and waves shyly from behind a jackfruit tree. A dugout canoe, dangerously laden with a cargo of rice, passes by. You watch anxiously, but the water, ever threatening to slop over into the boat, never quite does so, and before you know it, its master has expertly manoevered the vessel to the far bank. Beyond the palm tops, the sun begins its descent into the quick tropical dusk. There is little to do, but pick up a book from the shelf and while away an hour or two. Soon, the smells of dinner will begin to waft out of the kitchen, making it difficult for you to concentrate. On-board Banqueting : Ever had a meal prepared by the hands of a boatman? What marks it most is a simplicity, a lack of pretense. He is no chef, but he is the carrier of an ancient tradition of hospitality that equates the guest with divinity. This is why, in a galley barely larger than a closet, he is able to produce meals of surpassing delight. A typical evening's fare may start with 'kootu', lentils and gourd, stirred with cracked pepper and tangy mustard seeds, then garnished with roast coconut shreds. Grilled karimeen could follow, fresh caught from the backwaters and marinated in red chilis and shaved ginger, chased with lime. Perhaps, if he can manage it, he'll proudly serve up a dish of the enormous local prawns, to go with the piping-hot white rice that arrives at regular intervals. A spicy Chicken gravy serves well to fill you up, and the little dishes of pickles, limes and relish wake your taste buds up time and again, for more. You retire for the night to a queen sized bed. A fan, powered by the solar panels on the roof, whirrs to life. You are asleep, lulled by the gentle rhythms of paradise. The Fragile Biosphere: A paradise in very real danger of being lost. The ecology of the backwaters is under threat from factors such as silting, overfishing and industrial effluents. The recent upsurge in tourist activity has given new economic life to the local society, but also served to spoil some of its most charming characteristics. With our stress on local materials, on solar power and local talent, CGH Earth does its best to preserve the backwater world in its original state, and to give something back to its society.We urge our guests to have experiences that are as responsible as they are memorable, and preserve this fragile beauty for future generations of travellers.