Friday, 9 September 2011

Kerala (Kumarakom) October 2009

Kochi to Kumararakom was not too exciting a road trip, but we had greater hopes foe what lay ahead…and we were not disappointed at all. A routine drive along what was apparently a ‘highway’, but looked more like a narrow road filled with traffic, ultimately side tracked through thinner lanes flanked by unobtrusive rural dwellings…we went further into the interiors of this rural landscape, and the lanes thinned even more. Where were we going to land up…we were wondering. And then, the cab made a right turn into another alley. We passed barely 4-5 houses and suddenly, out of nowhere, there was the gate to Kumarakom Lake Resort. But once we entered the gates, it was like we were in a different world!

Kumarakom Lake Resort is an example of architecture and style so representative of its environment, that one actually feels a sense of oneness with the surrounding culture and nature immediately. The entire resort is spread over 25 acres of land, the entire property is on the banks of the lake and has accommodations are in the form of individual cottages, some with access to a lovely meandering pool which flows through part of the property. Using the open-roofed bathrooms feels surreal, and takes some getting used to, but is a ‘liberating experience’, to say the least! From the coconut-mould soap dishes in the bathrooms to the heavy double-hinged wooden doors with chaukhats and oversized brass locks & keys, tall suspended fans, wooden slatted ceilings and the thatched roofs and traditional sit-outs with carved wooden benches, the cottages offer a typical rural setting, which is best enjoyed by those who value solitude. The rest of the property has all the refinements which add to the rural experience…carved wooden jhoolas, statues, pottery, brass bells, candle stands and oil lamp holders. The restaurant serves delicious traditional buffets and the ayurvedic spa is the icing on the cake.

Kumarakom was an idyllic stay, to say the least. We dozed off on the hammocks in the lawns, pampered ourselves in the spa, and got sunburns from excessive pool-dipping. We took a two hour long cruise in a traditional boat along the backwaters. On both sides of the waterways were settlements of huts and houses scattered randomly, completely surrounded by natural elements…water and trees. A life so simple, a world so different from the concrete jungle we are part of.

Kerala (Cochin) October 2009

The cab ride from Munnar to Kochi was sheer pleasure…this time round we were passing the tea gardens in the day time. You could literally sing with joy… the greenest of green colour all around, for miles and miles and miles everywhere, unpolluted and pure. We passed groups of tea pickers dressed in their local attire, complete with their cane baskets, bent over and diligently picking away, concentrating yet carefree, blending into their surroundings so harmoniously, blissfully unaware of any other world or of any other life.

The hills were alive with bright sunshine. The sound of gurgling waterfalls, the chirping of the birds and the rustling of the leaves, all seemed like music to the ears. What a sharp contrast to the constant cacophony of traffic horns, the numbingly unbearable pollution levels and the painfully dizzying crowds, all so typical of our urban Indian cities. Well, this was India too.. grand, beautiful, graceful, unspoilt, inviting and peaceful!

As we left the hills behind, slowly the terrain changed. We crossed small and large villages and gradually, urbanization unfolded along the highway…we reached Kochi city. The old town, as we discovered later, had several spectacular sights and an amazing history. Crossing the bridge separating the new and the old town, we reached our destination, the Taj Malabar Hotel…and bliss!!!

The charm of history is something I can’t resist, but when you add beauty to history, the combination is simply intoxicating for me. The Taj Malabar Hotel was an experience in itself. The location, for one, was simply unbeatable. It’s built in the Wellingdon Island, which used to be the Kochi Naval Base. There are no residential or commercial accommodations for at least a couple of square miles. The only other buildings nearby are the Central Institute of Fisheries Technology, Office of Cochin Port Trust and the Customs Office. Calm, dignified and classy. The property itself is set on the tip of the island, with its three sides overlooking and touching the sea. The original heritage building was built in 1935. Expansion and remodelling includes a newer wing, but the traditional architectural elements dominate the overall style. Travancore style wooden balconies have been covered to create comfortable lounging areas with slanting ceilings in the guest rooms of the old wing. The cane-blade fans, the hand-painted knobs on the wardrobes and the carved wooden panels on the mirrors lend an old-world charm to these guest rooms. Corridors are decorated with traditional Travancore antiquities like chests, tables, wall hangings, door panels, paintings and even old wooden staircases that actually creak when you walk down!!

The 24 hour coffee shop has enormous glass windows or rather ‘glass walls’, that overlook the Arabian sea, giving you the feeling of actually being ‘at sea’. A huge wooden ship structure lies propped on the hotel lawns, lending even more authenticity to the ambience. The food was awesome, to say the least. We had Malabar parathas nearly in every meal…they were too just good to resist!

Strolling in the lawns during the evening, we gazed, mesmerized, at the sunset, following every millimetre of its descent, afraid to even blink, lest we lose any of the magic, capturing its every stage in our cameras, till all that was left of it was a rosy haze, and it was only when the skies turned an inky blue, that we finally gave up the chase. Every sunset, every sunset, I can never get tired of watching a sunset. The calming waves of the sea, coupled with the gently fading light of the sky…it’s a scene like no other and the effect it has is unbelievably relaxing, but only if you completely let go of yourself and immerse yourself in the experience!

The next day was truly inspiring. We spent the day at the old town marvelling at the strange Chinese fishing nets, docked up casually along the shores, as if all set to sail the next day; and the Fort area with its aristocratic French and Dutch style houses, colonial white facades and neat tree lined streets. We visited the Travancore Palace museum, admired its varied treasures and traced the lineage of the royalty. The museum building itself was a work or art, authentic wooden floors, massive bay windows with original cast iron grills, intricately carved pillars and doorways…it was like stepping back in time! Nearly every house in the neighbouring residential areas was adorned with carved wooden balconies that are so typical to this region. The old Jewish area is famous amongst tourists for the dozens of shops filled with local artefacts, both antique and replicas. I didn’t stop until I had rummaged through almost every shop’s wares…until I found something I couldn’t resist… some old fashioned, hand-painted knob heads and wardrobe hooks…what a perfect find!!

Kerala (Munnar) October 2009

I leaned against my tiny window and peeped through the glass as the plane approached Trivandrum airport, only to see hundreds and hundreds of coconut trees, spread for miles on end, in all directions as far as the eye could go... amazingly close, yet comfortably spaced out, as if someone had carefully measured the distance between them. Modestly-proud in a strange way, they seemed to be silently welcoming us into this unfamiliar paradise, aptly termed ‘God’s own country’.

The unassuming environs of the airport were hardly an indication of the beauty that lay ahead, just waiting to be discovered. We hired a pre-paid cab to take us to Munnar, a 4 hour long drive covering 130 kms. Our lungi-clad Malayali cab driver conversed in perfectly good English, but seemed to be content with restricting his attention to the winding road, and we were free to savour the interesting sights along the route. Crossing dozens of sleepy village lanes scattered with coconut trees, little ponds and thatched huts, we finally reached Western Ghats. Charming rivulets, quaint old wooden bridges, narrow winding roads up the grand sweeping hills, cool mountain air, trees, trees, and more trees…”refreshing” suddenly had a whole new meaning. I could feel the freshness tingling through me, as my eyes ran across patch after patch of green. Heaven!

Darkness had settled in by the time we neared Munnar, and we could barely see anything of the road, as our cab driver expertly, yet slowly manoeuvred through the mystic fog enveloping the tea gardens. Every time we entered the foggy roads passing through yet another tea garden, I caught my breath…and heaved a sigh of relief as we hit the clear road again. After what seemed like eternity, we finally spotted the Mahindra Holiday Resort, Munnar in the far distance and the cab driver muttered something about ‘having made it safe and sound’. A hefty tip and he was on his way, leaving us to complete our hotel check-in.

The hotel boasted of a prime location, but was no benchmark for luxury…in fact the room assigned to us had pathetic cleanliness standards. Some heartburn and several serious complaints later, we settled for a suite…thankfully, it was much closer to our taste…with a four-poster bed, en-suite Jacuzzi and separate living room, and traditional Travancore style furnishings. One couldn’t say the same of the dining options, however. The next two days were a trial of sorts…absence of great food is a big turn-off for us while vacationing, and we could barely make it through. To make things worse, it rained heavily and incessantly, leaving us with no options to explore the gorgeous natural beauty surrounding us, except by peering through our room’s windows or strolling around the hotel patio. To top it, we had to cancel our elephant-spotting adventure trip to nearby Periyar, because of a recent boat capsizing disaster, in which several tourists lost their lives. We had 2 more days before we hit Kumarakom, our next destination and we couldn’t possibly spend 2 more days in Munnar!!! Spontaneous change of plan…we decided we would go to Kochi.

Life at a different pace

Is it just me or does everyone feel it? Life in Europe has a different pace. People are busy, but there’s no mad rush. Trains are crowded, but it doesn’t get to push and shove. You simply wait your turn… another train will come along in the next few minutes. At peak hour, there’s shortage of seats, but everyone is willing to stand, no one’s running to grab a seat as soon as it falls vacant. Pedestrians wait patiently at zebra crossings and cars stop to let you cross the road, even when the signal is green. Best of all, there’s no honking…sometimes you feel the cars have no horns at all! Even beggars sit solemnly on pavements, the head bowed humbly, never pestering, never following…
Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that people don’t care for time. The tour bus can leave you stranded in the middle of nowhere, even if you’re five minutes late. They would warn you about in advance, though…offering an alternative method to reach home safely, just in case you miss the bus! In casual cafes, the waiter will bring you the bill along with the ordered item…no offence please, it just saves time and another unnecessary trip to your table. It doesn’t work exactly the same way when dining formally, though!

The smaller towns and quaint little villages look almost deserted. Does anyone live here at all? I ask myself as our coach passes one such village. The pretty streets, neatly lined with trees and foliage, have small, houses with sloped red brick roofs, each of them equally spaced, as if planned and built the very same day. As the tour guide takes us on the (designed to look casual) ‘walk through the village’, I get a peep into the homes… the window with soft white lace curtains, pretty curios and collectibles displayed on the sills, the cozy armchair with a half-read book, the coffee mugs left on the dining table and the wheelbarrow lying lazily in the backyard. Suddenly, we take a left and step into the main street, all abuzz with cafes, restaurants and souvenir shops. So here’s where all the action is…

Life at a different pace

Is it just me or does everyone feel it? Life in Europe has a different pace. People are busy, but there’s no mad rush. Trains are crowded, but it doesn’t get to push and shove. You simply wait your turn… another train will come along in the next few minutes. At peak hour, there’s shortage of seats, but everyone is willing to stand, no one’s running to grab a seat as soon as it falls vacant. Pedestrians wait patiently at zebra crossings and cars stop to let you cross the road, even when the signal is green. Best of all, there’s no honking…sometimes you feel the cars have no horns at all! Even beggars sit solemnly on pavements, the head bowed humbly, never pestering, never following…
Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that people don’t care for time. The tour bus can leave you stranded in the middle of nowhere, even if you’re five minutes late. They would warn you about in advance, though…offering an alternative method to reach home safely, just in case you miss the bus! In casual cafes, the waiter will bring you the bill along with the ordered item…no offence please, it just saves time and another unnecessary trip to your table. It doesn’t work exactly the same way when dining formally, though!

The smaller towns and quaint little villages look almost deserted. Does anyone live here at all? I ask myself as our coach passes one such village. The pretty streets, neatly lined with trees and foliage, have small, houses with sloped red brick roofs, each of them equally spaced, as if planned and built the very same day. As the tour guide takes us on the (designed to look casual) ‘walk through the village’, I get a peep into the homes… the window with soft white lace curtains, pretty curios and collectibles displayed on the sills, the cozy armchair with a half-read book, the coffee mugs left on the dining table and the wheelbarrow lying lazily in the backyard. Suddenly, we take a left and step into the main street, all abuzz with cafes, restaurants and souvenir shops. So here’s where all the action is…

Chocolates, chocolates everywhere

If you are a chocolate lover, Belgium is your mecca…no question about it! Belgium produces 172,000 tons of chocolate per year in over 2,130 chocolate shops. We stayed at Brussels for 4 days and chocolate savouring was definitely one of the high points of our short stay. They say, Henri Escher, Mayor of Zurich, drank his first cup of chocolate on the Grand Place in Brussels. Impressed with its flavour, he exported the recipe to Switzerland. So much for Swiss chocolates!! We strolled leisurely along the narrow streets of the ‘old town’, stepping from one chocolaterie to the other, mesmerized by the delicious variety lining the glass shelves…classic milk to almond praline to pure liqueur filled gourmet delights…countless types from the simple to the intricate… each with their own sophisticated flavours and heavenly textures. Apparently, the best Belgian chocolate pralines and truffles are still made by hand, often by small chocolatiers in rural villages in Belgium. And so we noticed, as we sampled the brown beauties at little local shops in the picturesque towns of Bruges and Antwerp… as mouth watering as the expensive delicacies that intoxicate you at exclusive stores of Neuhaus, Leonidas, Guliyan or Godiva. CALORIES? Who cares about calories????

Amsterdam canal houses… or doll houses?

I can go on staring at the Amsterdam canal houses forever, wondering just how they are so picture-perfect!  Most buildings are very narrow, maybe 30-feet wide or less, with the slimmest side facing the canal. Apparently, the houses have narrow staircases, because we saw someone transporting furniture with the help of a pulley and lifting it in through the windows. We saw many houses that bore ‘establishment dates’…some from the 16th and 17th centuries…and most had richly ornamental ‘gables’ in shapes like steps, vase necks and bells. Those on the Keizersgracht (Emperor's canal) were grand and sober…inspired from palaces of the Roman Empire, perhaps??
We’d heard that people in Amsterdam prefer cycling to get around, but seeing it was a different story altogether. Office goers with formal suits and laptops, women with toddlers, school boys and girls, men with pet dogs on leashes, shoppers with grocery bags, and tourists with cameras, everyone seemed to be peddling away cheerfully. It’s almost infectious…you can’t resist the urge to cycle! So, hire a cycle at 10 euro a day and travel the way locals do.