When you think of Kerala, the southern Indian state, it’s likely you picture palm-fringed beaches, traditional boats heading through its network of narrow canals, ayurvedic head massages and fairly punchy curries. Kerala has gained a reputation as the quieter, more cultural, more discerning alternative to the somewhat hedonistic neighbouring Goa. After a few too many full-moon parties on Goan beaches in the 1990s, western backpackers moved on to Kerala. Yet over the past 20 years or so the beaches and the backwaters — as the canals are known — have become crowded in the Keralan holiday hotspots around Cochin and the southernmost tip of the state.
Domestic tourists — I’d take their lead over foreign hippy travellers any day — go on their breaks in the north of Kerala and the coastal area around Kasaragod. It’s just as beautiful, you can still take a kettuvallam (houseboat) and the ayurvedic treatments are the real, undiluted deal. And it is oh so calm there.
The peaceful coastal town of Bekal is where you might find the fairly well-to-do of Mumbai popping down for a few days of rejuvenation and fine food. There is a sprinkling of high-end hotels and resorts opening to cater for this crowd. My daughters and I opted for the Lalit Resort & Spa, an exceptionally pretty hotel set in 26 acres of coconut groves, fringed by the Kalanad River and the Arabian Sea.
At Easter it was more than 35C — too hot to venture out in the day, so our schedule slipped into something extremely languorous. Rather than get up early to go out exploring before it was too hot, we found it more pleasing to wake up at 11ish and eat a late breakfast, followed by a very late lunch, and take our trips in the late afternoon. The staff were quick to accommodate our fairly odd routine and we got used to north Keralan-style eating. For breakfast at 11.30 (by which time we were ravenous) they would bring us dosa (a bit like a pancake) and vada (a deep-fried doughnut made out of lentils) served with sambar and chutney, stuffed paratha (sweet-tasting fried flatbread) filled with vegetables and spices, and fresh, sweet fruit juices.
There were a couple of days when this felt too slovenly and I got up at 6.30am for a yoga session. This took place on the fabulously surreal location of the hotel’s helipad because this was the most convenient flat, outdoor surface. The resort has a reputation for excellent yoga instruction (I can concur) and it seemed crazy not to take advantage. Yet I was caught snoring during shavasana (corpse pose) and took this as a sign that the mornings were for sleeping after all.
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There are a few must-sees in the area, but not so many that you feel under pressure. It’s the fort at Bekal that has made this region of myths and legends most famous.
“An ayurvedic treatment is a must: a gallon of warm herbal oil was dripped on to my head
The 350-year-old hilltop site, once the setting for an ancient mosque, overlooks a pristine beach and looks like a giant keyhole. It’s the best-preserved fort in the area and, with the sea sometimes crashing against it, has a natural drama. No surprise, then, that it has become a favourite Bollywood location. It’s the perfect spot from which to watch the sunset and not too much of a climb at 130ft above the sea. Local families come here for a walk, to take in the ocean views and eat an ice cream.
Bekal has a thriving tourist industry, but the locals are not yet used to western tourists. My daughters and I felt welcome wherever we went, so it was a while before it dawned on us that we were becoming something of an attraction ourselves. The first time someone sidled up to us brandishing their iPhone, we thought the smart-looking Indian family wanted us to take a picture of them together. In fact they wanted a picture of us standing next to them. The cry of “Selfie! Selfie, miss!” became something we got used to. So there are a few people out there who have our confused smiles as part of their holiday snaps and social-media stories.
You can’t come to India — and certainly not to Kerala — without visiting a temple. The “floating” Ananthapura Lake Temple is probably the best known, and certainly the quirkiest, in the area. Its origins are in the 9th century and its inner sanctum is surrounded by a large pond and accessible only by a little bridge. We entered, said prayers and were given a blessing from the monk — we’ve no idea what he said. As we crossed the water, we were mindful of the rarely sighted crocodile that has apparently been living in it for 40 years. When we left we saw some monks peering into a cave opposite the temple with bowls of food; close enough to a sighting of a hungry crocodile for us.
Religion is a huge part of the culture in Kerala, which is known as “God’s own country”. A highlight of my trip was an opportunity to see a rare ceremony in a nearby village. Theyyam is a ritualistic art form with origins in Kerala dating back more than a thousand years. It is part ceremony, part carnival, and goes on for a couple of days. The most public and spectacular aspect was the performance of the Theyyam dancer, a chosen one from a lower caste who wears an elaborate, fiery-coloured costume and a giant headdress. He moves through the crowds and chants as if in a trance, his face painted with a thick orange paste and jet black paint around his eyes. For believers he doesn’t just represent God during the performance, he is God. There was secrecy surrounding the details of the rituals, with rumours of hunting and drinking animal blood, which made the atmosphere all the more fevered — although I saw no evidence of this.
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The large town of Kasaragod is worth a look if you like the bustle of markets. The choice of spices was vast and we bought a small sack of dried chillies and cinnamon quills for about £1. We chose some beautiful chiffon saris from Kalyan Silks, the best-known store for such things. I bought a bridal sari — because I liked the colour and wanted to drape it somewhere in my house — and was leapt upon by a team of giddy assistants who wrapped and pleated it around me in a way I’ll never be able to replicate. This was one of the more chichi places to buy fabric, but the prices were low — so much so that we were worried we’d miscalculated and there might be an extra sterling zero on the yards and yards of fabric we bought for about £20.
An ayurvedic treatment is also a must. I tried the shirodhara, probably the best known to westerners. What felt like a gallon of warm herbal oil was dripped from a contraption on to my head until my hair and scalp were drenched. This uninterrupted pouring of oils on to the forehead is said to trigger a healing of the nervous system. It was no beauty treatment; it’s something to soothe the soul. In the touristy parts of Kerala, ayurvedic treatments are ten a penny.
Happily, the Lalit is served by one of the best ayurvedic doctors in India, Dr Ranju Raphael, and many travel here specifically for his treatments. He prescribed another anointment for me called the pizhichil. This time the continuous oily stream covers the body and is followed by a massage. I think my soul wasn’t just soothed by this treatment as made blissfully drunk, but half an hour later I felt calmly rejuvenated. It should be available on the NHS.
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Lesley Thomas was a guest of the Lalit Resort & Spa, Bekal (thelalit.com), which has a deluxe suite from £183 a night. The hotel can arrange transport from Mangalore airport. Jet Airways has Heathrow-to-Mangalore returns via Mumbai from about £670. Transindus (0844 8793960, transindus.co.uk) has seven nights’ B&B at the Lalit in Bekal in November from £1,745pp with flights.