Whatever Floats My Boat

My cute, woodsy cabin.

I've never been interested in one of those big obnoxious luxury cruises where you stuff yourself silly with buffet food and take a craft class making houses with popsicle sticks (seriously, my mother said she did this on one—she liked it.) However, I love floatin' on this boat in India. I arrived five days ago and boarded the Bengal Ganga. The official two-week cruise starts this evening when the rest of the guests arrive. In the meantime, I've been enjoying every minute of this ship full of old-school cool, little luxuries and service extraordinaire.

 Built in the colonial style, the ship is decked out in shining teakwood and polished brass. It has only 28 rooms so it makes for a more intimate cruise. My cozy twin-bedded cabin is perfect. The room has a desk, closet and a nicely done bathroom with soft towels (yeah! towels at Indian hotels are often stiff and rough as sandpaper). There's plenty of storage, cabinets and drawers below the beds. I want a bed exactly like this for my home.  My room is even big enough to accommodate sun salutations during my morning yoga practice—but the upper sundeck is even better. I leave the screened windows open most of the time for the fresh air. It had been very warm but in the last two days it has suddenly turned cool—wish I would have brought my Seattle fleece but I have a nice wool scarf I scored in Jaipur.



A pretty lime green home on the lush banks of the Hooghly.



My days anchored on the Hooghly river (which eventually joins the Ganges) have been spent watching the daily doings of people along the river, bathing, building, washing, praying, and playing. Children get excited when they see the boat and come running and shouting. There's no other boat like it on the River. From the shore I hear cows mooing, roosters crowing, and sheeps bleating. I saw a Gangetic dolphin surface early one morning and lots of snowy white egrets flying around. Big kites (the bird kind not the toy) soar in the sky. One landed very near on the defunct smokestack. They are powerful birds of prey but I think they were just looking for an easy meal from the fisherman.

One day I went fishing with the local fishermen. Their small boat had a little "tunnel" covered with thatched palm leaves. They fish, cook, eat, and sleep on the boat. While they use their fishing nets, my angling gear was an empty plastic water bottle with nylon line wrapped around the middle of it. On the end of the line was an iron weight of about 2 kilos and two fishing hooks which I baited with roti (bread) dough balls. Of course I managed to tangle my line up but the fishermen patiently untangled it for me. The helpless American. I didn't catch a thing. But it was peaceful and relaxing.

The rest of the time I've written, read or napped on the sundeck. And I've eaten. The food here is phenomenal. It is not drenched in the gravies and oils so prevalent in the restaurants of Rajasthan. It's home cooked Indian food with very fresh vegetables prepared well with just the right amount of seasoning. The soups, vegetables, fish, chicken and Indian breakfasts like upma are so good I've been eating every bite. I hope they have a tailor on board so I can have my pants taken out. I'm not used to eating three big meals a day. I've also enjoyed the company of the ship's manager each evening for happy hour and dinner. Atul and I had Kingfisher beers and talked about our cultures, Indian philosophy and I practiced my Hindi. His English is perfect.

A lone fisherman on the river.

The staff, all 30 of them, are the best. It doesn't hurt that many of these "boys" are quite attractive Rajasthani men with winning smiles. I don't even mind waking up at 6:30am to one of those smiling faces knocking on my door, black coffee in hand...