On a last-minute trip to Kovalam, our budget didn’t stretch to include the houseboat experience for which Kerala’s beautiful backwaters are famous. But we were determined to get away from the beach and the dusty town and to experience a little piece of the backwaters’ tranquility.

The Boyfriend and I jumped into a taxi late one afternoon and directed the driver to a turning we’d spotted on the way into Kovalam, where we found punts for hire for a negotiable fee. For around US$12 we procured the services of a boatman for two hours, and set off into the welcome shade of the winding river.

The sombre boatman punted us past outlandish temples blaring music and religious messages at a less-than-tranquil volume, as orange-robed monks waved and grinned gleefully in a way not entirely in keeping with their serene reputation.

We passed families washing in the river, with charming children who burst into song and dance routines for our cameras, and practiced their English ‘good evenings’. The trees formed a high green wall on either side of the muddy river, but the calls of birds, bats and spider monkeys twittered out between the branches.

As the sun began to dip into another fiery Keralan sunset, we emerged from the green tunnels to pristine white sandbanks and the fierce surf of the ocean beyond. Groups of boys aged seven to seventeen played barefoot cricket in the sand. At the sight of the Boyfriend’s camera, the cockiest of the boys starting turning cartwheels and showing off their meagre biceps for their portraits.

Over some sublime, oversized seafood that evening, the Boyfriend & I agreed that, while the backwaters did not provide tranquility, they were beautiful in ways we did not expect; full of life and the warmth and welcome of their inhabitants.