I was very glad when Oakland airport was barred from changing its name to San Francisco-Oakland since that would have created chaos among tourists unfamiliar with the area. I myself was caught in the game of airports with very similar names when I was in Japan, and had to buy a new flight to wherever it was I was going from the apocryphal airport. The same thing almost happened to me in Goa, and it was only through a vigilance of my taxi driver, who asked me to double check the departure airport, that I was saved from going south to Goa International (GOI) when I really needed to go to North Goa (GOX). Why would the powers that be do such a silly thing? I got the answer when I got to GOX, which is way out there in the town of Mapusa. Here is a super modern airport, sized to receive the largest jets, and with total lack of name recognition. Goa seems to be an important tourist destination, for both international and national tourism, but who has ever heard of Mapusa as one of the glamorous spots of the Indian coast?
Getting into the airport was carefully scrutinized by airport security, and the same was true in my layover at Bangaluru. Maybe there was an incident that has them all on edge?
As the plane approached Kochi I could see lots and lots of water. Many large streams, small canals, and endless flooded fields of rice. The monsoon rains are doing their thing and the streams are busy carrying the excess water to the Arabian Sea or the Kochi Estuary. Kochi reminds me a little of Seattle, where the estuary is an intricate network of channels and "lakes" that have a parallel fabric. In the case of Seattle it was the ground moraines that created that fabric, but in the case of Kochi seems to be a series of parallel barrier islands. Once you are on the ground, crossing from the airport to the old settlement of Fort Cochin, it is a matter of going over several bridges and taking long detours to run parallel to the fabric of the bars.
Along the channels there is lively fishing, both in the form of colorful fleets of brightly colored wooden boats, and using a unique form of fishing along the shore. Imagine a giant mechanical hand, holding giant chopsticks (maybe 5 m long). When the chopsticks are open, a net hangs between them. The open chopsticks are then brought down to the water by the gears of the giant mechanical hand, and the net is allowed to stay submerged for several hours, allowing the fish to move in and out of it in total security and comfort. But once the fisherman is ready he leans on the counterbalance of the chopsticks, which are then brought out and closed in seconds, capturing a goodly number of trusting fish. Pretty slick.
I am staying at a home, in one of the neighborhoods close to Fort Cochin. Access to the houses is through narrow alleys and imagine my driver's surprise when he was ready to make the final turn and found a car, firmly stuck in the narrowing of the alley. It was like in the movies! The driver was not actually wedged in, but had he gone another inch he would have scraped the heck out of his mirrors. This was an event, and the whole neighborhood turned in to witness the event, give advice, and generally laugh at the fool who had gotten himself in such predicament. Eventually he had to back out and the street show was over.
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