I was going to spend Easter at home writing, but then I read an article in a Sunday supplement and settled instead for a fortnight having Ayurvedic treatment. So, here I am in Kerala, a state in the far south of India. It's known for beaches, palm trees and its mountains- the Western Ghats. The capital, where I've landed, is Thiruvananthapuram, thankfully often shortened to Trivandrum. It's almost right on the southern tip of India. Gandhi nicknamed it The Evergreen City of India, but it's apparently also known as God's Own Capital.
My first stop, at Kovalum, is classic postcard bent palm trees with fine white sand and a line of wooden dhows marching into the sea. There's a striped lighthouse on the main beach, which is packed. It's a favourite meeting place for the locals, as as well as being a home for the fishing boats.
First, a mini tour of the area. starting with Thekkady. Thekkady means teak and this is very much a tourist town. It is advertised as being home to herds of elephants, sambar, tigers, gaur, lion-tailed macaques and Nilgiri langurs. But it is also famous for its thick forests So, in fact, sightings of elephants and especially tigers are highly unlikely. Tea plantations, myriad fantastic green patterns waving up the slopes, at Thekkady. Spices grown locally, in gardens open to the public and included on every tour.
A boat cruise in the Periyar ‘Tiger Safari’ Park, where I'm told, there is more chance of seeing elephant. And deer and bison coming down to drink. But, as Lonely Planet says, ‘it doesn’t scream wildlife experience’. It’s an artificial lake, made by the British constructing a dam on the river, and the boat is crammed with noisy Indian tourists. Unsurprisingly, we fail to spot any tigers, (except for cardboard cut outs), but we do encounter a small herd of elephant, sauntering down to the water. All the passengers scream and run to the rail, on one side, to see them. For a few moments I fear my time is up. The elephants lumber off, of course.
Afterwards, tea and banana fritters on the lawn of my hotel.
I am being driven around by a dishy, but very, naive six foot 29 year old who spends the whole journey telling me that he would like to fall in love with an English lady. He drives like a maniac, as does everyone. Only the cows use the zebra crossings. There's plenty to see in Kerala. Mountains covered in lush vegetation, huge flat valleys, abundant flowers. Hindu temples and an ornate Roman Catholic Church with a huge dome to report. Ox carts rolling by. There are also statues of gods being transported. It's Vishu, a holiday in Kerala which, according to the local blurb, ‘is celebrated with much fanfare and energy’.
Now I’m staying on an island resort on the edge of a lake. It’s only accessible by small speedboat. This is what the website says: 'History in Liquid Reflections. There are so many facets to the Coconut Lagoon experience. The heritage of the old feudal villages of Malabar. The vast frolic of the Vembanad Lake. The shimmering waters of the canals that criss-cross the property. The flavour bursts of Kerala home-style cooking'. Coconut Lagoon is located in the Kerala district of Kuttanad, or the Land of the Short People. Someone suggests that this name came about because the folks here are always knee deep in the paddy fields that form most of the island.
I have an ‘antique’ cottage. I get up and have a shower in my open air bathroom, complete with full size banana tree, offering ripe hands of fruit. Eat vegetable dhosas for breakfast, along with water melon juice and fresh mangoes. Amble along the labyrinth of little canals and bridges, Venetian style, that make up the island and take a two hour boat ride through the backwaters, past canoes and flat boats skipping through the channels, all lined with palms and bobbing darters.
Children cavort on the banks playing cricket and letting off loud firecrackers, when we ignore the shouts of ‘Gimme Pen’, the tourist international language. Return, a trifle scorched and clamber into a hammock overlooking the lake. The miniature hump backed cows that act as lawn mowers are butting the boys who are trying to tether them. Eat fresh cashews and pineapple for lunch with coconut and ginger shake. Read till I am even more scorched and then fall into the swimming pool. Sit and read in the Jacuzzi. Then go for another boat ride, this time to watch the sun go down behind the lake.
Finally, my first Ayuredvic treatment. Massaged and pummelled with oil and herbs by two women at once. Blissful, sublime. Then a curry buffet. The food is brilliant. Best curry so far, the unlikely sounding cashew and pea. Stuffed to the hilt (well the Indians love English clichés and it's catching). I can just about manage to type.
It's a balmy beautiful evening and pipes are lilting across the water.
Cochin, (or Kochi) where I am treated to a converted maharajah’s palace. Polished teak and designer curry. This famous port 'Queen of the Arabian Sea', was an important spice trading centre on the west coast of India from the fourteenth century onward, when a flood fortuitously carved out its harbour. It's a delightful hotchpotch of tiled colonial bungalows, diverse temples and churches and restored mansions. Like the Old Harbour House. And there's a fort. But, the must see here are the picturesque cantilevered Chinese fishing nets, all along the beach.
My ayurvedic centre, the Somatheeram (the one mentioned in the paper) is located on the tranquil Malabar Coast, just north of Cochin. Though very lovely, this hotel is full of meditating Italians and Germans. I exhaust myself trying to speak German (Ach so you have zee British sense of humour!) The Internet Café has two computers, making it exactly twice as large as the last one, though unfortunately it is not even half as fast.
My treatment proper starts here. I already feel loads more relaxed. I've only one set of bags under my eyes now. I'm put though my paces in the Ayuredvic hospital. Questionnaire and then diagnosis - which mixture of the 3 doshas vata/pitta/kapha am I? They make me vata/pitta which is fine, as that's what I made myself in the book I read at home. Basically I'm too quick for my own good - no surprise there either. Then they tell me I shouldn't sunbathe or eat spicy food. I'm not entirely obedient on either score. The spicy prawns are much too tasty. I’m spending a lot of time in the hammock just outside my room - well it's in partial shade.
The treatments are intended to rejuvenate and purify. The word purgation is rather freely bandied about. Most of it is very wonderful. I'm massaged with herb bundles and dripping jugs of oil (the masseurs use hands and feet). I'm laid in a trough and have warm oil dripped on my head from a clay pot in a pendulum motion. It’s like being on the edge of the sea - very calming. Then I have hot oil drizzled over me (as they say on all the best restaurant menus) for half an hour. I know now just how the turkey feels. All this absolutely stark naked. No inhibitions left now. This is all part of what's called panchekarma. If I'd had longer they would have added colonic irrigation (with you guessed it - hot oil) and used leeches on my skin. Of course I'm madly disappointed.
The resort is built all up the hillside and I have a cottage with a view over the bay. The path is lined with exotic flowers and punctuated with picture stops, so it takes half an hour and a pint of water to get up to the restaurant. I fall down the steps one day and cut my legs, so I arrive in the hospital rather earlier than anticipated.
Otherwise, life is quiet but relaxing. Catching up on my reading before I come home. And guess who turns up to visit me on the beach this morning?
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