Latest revision as of 19:06, 21 July 2025

[edit] What makes the city great

[edit] 2019: Among world’s Top 10 cities

NS Madhavan, Oct 26, 2019: The Times of India

Key Highlights

What Ibn Batuta failed to notice, 678 years later, the Lonely Planet did

So what is it with Kochi? You can’t really put your finger on it. It is that intangible something; something not instagrammable

Ibn Batuta missed Kochi as he travelled from Kozhikode to Kollam by the backwaters. The itinerant Moroccan scholar cannot be faulted for the omission, because Kochi, as we know today, was either not born or just born. It was only in 1341, around the time when Ibn Batuta travelled through the Malabar coast, the famous Kochi sandbar breached and a new natural harbour was formed.

What Ibn Batuta failed to notice, 678 years later, the Lonely Planet did. For the ‘backpacker’s bible’, Kochi is one of its 2020 destination picks. But why? You can’t be hauled over the coals if you wonder so. What is in it for a traveller in a beach town with hardly any beach? Or a place with no night life? A town with a bazaar that gives the impression that it has seen better days? As for quaint buildings and warehouses of colonial times, you can spot many or even more elegant edifices in old outposts from Hormuz to Melaka. Its historical connection? Vasco da Gama, who died here in 1524, had left behind an empty sarcophagus at the local church.

So what is it with Kochi? You can’t really put your finger on it. It is that intangible something; something not instagrammable. It is will-o-the-wispy nothing that probably appeals to a large section of the twenty-first century travellers who are no longer in search of anything. I guess when travel is affordable, and more frequent, been-there-done-that kind of tourism doesn’t make much sense. They are probably looking for a place high on chill quotient, and Kochi seems to fit the bill.

Soon after the opening up of the port in the early 14th century, sea trade from Kochi picked up. Earliest transactions were with China, Persia and Arabia. Ma Huan, a Chinese Muslim voyager, visited Kochi twice, in 1413 and 1421, as member of the entourage of the legendary Chinese admiral Zheng He, and left behind the first available written account of the city by a foreigner. He mentions about five different categories in Kochi society, hierarchically arranged, starting with Nairs, who enjoyed almost equal status with the royalty. Second category was the Muhammadans. Ma Huan noted that the third, Chetties were very wealthy. Then he mentions a group called ‘kolingas’, whose main source of income was from brokerage. Fifth were lowly fisherfolk, the untouchables, who had to prostrate on the ground at the sight of upper caste gentry and who were not allowed to construct their huts more than three feet high.

This was the snap of Kochi society in the fifteenth century, before the Portuguese came. Presence of non-natives like Chetties and Kolingas, shows that even at that time, Kochi was exhibiting its welcoming lack of xenophobia. Ma Huan had certainly missed the native Christians and Jews: the latter came to Kochi to escape religious persecution.

The new port brought in more trade, more people, more ideas and, inescapably, invaders. The Portuguese, the Dutch and the English carved out equal slices of history, in about 450 years of imperial dominance over Kochi. More refugees came to Kochi, this time, Konkanis from Goa, fleeing from the Inquisition of the Portuguese. As for majority of the population, the left-outs — untouchable fisher people — Christianity elevated them socially. The Hindu kings of Kochi did not hinder Christian missionaries from harvesting native souls.

Violence did happen in Kochi, but it was mostly between colonial powers. Its bloodiest night happened in 1663, when Presbyterian Dutch wrested power from Catholic Portugal. As for diverse cultures within Kochi, they lived in harmony through the centuries. For its residents, Ashish Nandy claims, the city “is the ultimate symbol of cultural diversity and religious and ethnic tolerance.”

Social formation over centuries has resulted in a certain cosmopolitanism, making it comfortable for travellers, probably why the city has made into the Lonely Planet list. At other places you can be wonderstruck by monuments, beaches, waterfalls or mountains. But in Kochi, you can soak in the atmospherics, the beguiling charm of quiet urbanism.

Finally, a cautionary note: how long will this Kochi last? In the last decade, there have been persistent efforts to make Kochi mimic big metros. The government and its bureaucrats have already fenced its most famous public space, the Parade Ground, making it inaccessible to people. An assault is now planned on the Chinese nets. Yes, the Chinese nets, the signature of the city. They want to build a jetty, right in the middle, fracturing the majestic row. Kochi lets you be; you should let Kochi be.

The author is an acclaimed short story writer and novelist

[edit] Bridge across Bharathapuzha

Sep 16, 2019: The Times of India 


Floods of 2019 swept away most parts of the Cochin bridge
From: Sep 16, 2019: The Times of India

117-year-old Cochin bridge lies in ruins

PALAKKAD: The 117-year-old Cochin bridge across Bharathapuzha that had connected Malabar with Kochi and Travancore in 1902 may soon disappear as most of it has fallen into the river in this year's flood. 

"Though there were demands to preserve the bridge that had historical and architectural value, no steps were taken by the authorities to protect it from the ruin," said Prasad Shoranur, an environmentalist for the protection of Bharathapuzha and its heritage. 
In 2009, a pillar of the bridge had collapsed and later many of them collapsed and fell into the river. In last year's flood, its top portions fell into the river, he added. The bridge was constructed by Rama Varma Thampuran, the then ruler of Cochin State who reigned from 1895 to 1914, at a cost of Rs 84 lakh. The first freight train passed through the bridge on June 2, 1902, and on June 16, the first passenger train travelled from Shoranur to Kochi. 

It was constructed with British assistance by John Kenward, (a concrete contractor from Regina) based on a James Barney Marsh double arch design. It is 300-metre-long with 15 spans. 

The bridge was closed for traffic in 1989 due to damages and the new Cochin bridge was constructed across Bharathapuzha.

[edit] Port

[edit] The legacy of Robert Bristow

Narayanan S, July 18, 2025: The Indian Express

The warm scent of teak wood and Fevicol greets visitors at a boatyard on the banks of the Vembanad Lake. Beneath a teal tarpaulin, two men work diligently on a weathered wooden boat, predominantly brown with patches of flaking polish. Surrounded by scaffolding and wooden supports, the vessel wears a modest sign at its bow: ML Vasco.

But this is no ordinary restoration, and ML Vasco is no ordinary boat.

More than 105 years old, it is the boat that once ferried British harbour engineer Sir Robert Bristow — widely acknowledged as the architect of the modern port in Kochi — after he arrived in the city in 1920. Seethi Sajar, a scrap dealer based in Thoppumpady, secured it in an auction held by the Cochin Port Trust in 2010 for Rs 2 lakh, only to realise its historical significance later.

“It was only after a Port Trust official told me that this was the boat used by Robert Bristow that I knew of the value of my possession. It was then that I decided I would not dismantle the boat but keep it for future generations to witness and understand his contributions.”

Bristow’s vision for Kochi

Bristow arrived in Kochi in April 1920 at the age of 39, under the direction of the then Governor of Madras, Lord Willingdon. Waiting for him at the waterfront was ML Vasco, which would become his constant companion during his mission to modernise the Cochin Port.

Though the port had been a major trading hub even before Bristow’s arrival, its expansion was hampered by the lack of a safe inner harbour for ships.

“The Cochin Port was a natural port, attracting Portuguese, Arabs, Jews, Dutch, and British at different periods. Over the centuries, shipping technology underwent significant changes. Sailing ships gave way to steamships. However, huge ships could not come close to the Cochin Port due to a natural sandbar, and cargo loading and unloading were being done using small boats,” says Bony Thomas, nodal officer of Cochin Heritage Zone Conservation Society.

In 1926, Bristow brought a dredger, named ‘Lord Willingdon’, from Scotland to remove the sand and silt that prevented the entry of large ships at the port. Two years later, on May 26, 1928, a steamship, SS Padma, entered the inner harbour of the modernised Cochin Port, officially opening it to the world. This event is commemorated annually as the Cochin Port Day.

But Bristow didn’t stop here. He used the mud and materials dredged from the sea during the modernisation of the port to create Willingdon Island, the largest artificial island in India. He filled the area around Veduruthy Island, a pre-existing small natural island, to carve out Willingdon Island in a sprawling area of 775 acres. He owned the first building on the new island.

“He later connected this human-made island to the mainland of Ernakulam through the Venduruthy bridge. He also connected the island and the mainland area of Thoppumpady through the Old Harbour Bridge, which was called the London Bridge of Kochi. It was an architectural marvel as its middle portion could be lifted to allow ships to pass through,” says Thomas.

In his book Cochin Saga, Bristow wrote how he marvelled at the scope of the Cochin Port when he touched down in 1920 and took the first trip on Vasco.

Over the next two decades, he transformed Kochi’s landscape as the “interminable vista” evolved into a bustling port city, complete with wharfs, cranes, roads, and bridges. He oversaw the extension of the rail line from the old railway station in Ernakulam to Willingdon Island and the establishment of Harbour Terminus railway station on the island in 1932, mainly for freight movement.

Talking to the BBC in 1935, a proud Bristow said:

“I live on a large island made from the bottom of the sea. It is called Willingdon Island, after the present Viceroy of India. From the upper floor of my house, I look down on the finest harbour in the East.”

Bristow also played a key role in building a civilian airstrip on Willingdon Island in 1936, which later proved to be a crucial aircraft repair yard for the British during World War II. In 1953, the facility was commissioned as INS Garuda, the oldest operating air station of the Indian Navy.

Apart from his engineering laurels, Bristow, along with his wife, Gertrude, is credited with founding the inter-racial Lotus Club in Kochi. “The Cochin Club in Fort Kochi allowed only fully British people. Gertrude had Belgian Jewish ancestry, making her ineligible. The couple opened Lotus Club to people from all races and backgrounds, almost like a statement to the British Raj,” says Stephen Robert, a Kochi-based heritage activist. Bristow returned to England in 1941 and passed away in 1966 at the age of 85.

A careful restoration

ML Vasco is unlike any modern vessel. Twenty-six feet long, six feet wide, and seven feet tall, with a two-cylinder diesel engine, it can accommodate 10 to 12 people. Built entirely from wood and copper, and without the use of iron, it has not rusted even after all these years.

For its restoration, Sajar sought craftsmen skilled in repairing wooden boats. His search eventually led him to Jaison and Janappan from Mulvakukad in Kochi. The two men are as enthusiastic as Sajar about the restoration efforts.

“We had heard about Bristow sayippu (a loosely used colloquial term in Malayalam for people of Caucasian descent) and it is a great privilege for us to now work on his boat,” says Jaison, adding that the instruction from Sajar has been to stay true to the original design.

The boat has two cabins separated by a central deck. A wooden ladder connects the central deck to the front cabin, which features two large oval windows on each side. The two men plan to install glass panes in these windows. The rear cabin has rectangular wooden panels and serves as the main seating area. The windows in the back cabin are rectangular and much smaller compared to those in the front cabin.

They have reattached the loose steering wheel and plan to replace the engine cover. What lies ahead for them is the not-so-easy task of lifting the boat and replacing the missing wooden planks on the bottom.

Sajar estimates the cost for the restoration work, which began over four months ago, to be around Rs 10 lakh.

For now, ML Vasco remains at a rented yard in Karuvelippady. But Sajar has bigger plans: once restored, the boat will be mounted on trolleys and transported to a three-acre plot nearby, which he bought recently. He intends to display Vasco in a fibre enclosure and unveil it during Onam.