Bewitching Bhutan! Day Three: Exploring the Treasures of Thimphu—Seated Buddha Point at Dordenma, Simply Bhutan Museum, Tarkin Preserve, Folk Heritage Museum, Centenary Market.

Sunday, May 10, 2026

Bewitching Bhutan

Day Three: Exploring the Treasures of Thimphu—Seated Buddha Point at Dordenma, Simply Bhutan Museum, Tarkin Preserve, Folk Heritage Museum, Centenary Market.

We awoke in our hotel room at Hotel Migmar after a good night’s slumber and, as is our wont, went straight to the window to survey the scene. Thimphu still lay asleep in quiet serenity. The main road outside was devoid of traffic at that early hour and, in the distance, the dark mountains arose, standing like strong sentinels to protect the city. It was time to shower, get dressed (warmly—it was going to be a frigid morning) and descend to the restaurant for breakfast where we met the rest of the members of our group.

Breakfast was a generous buffet of Western and Indian items. In addition to hard boiled eggs, there was puri bhaji, plus toast with jam and butter (standard elements of a tourist Bhutanese breakfast), plus fresh fruit, coffee and tea. In keeping with our travel adage of consuming a hearty breakfast, a light lunch and a substantial dinner, we helped ourselves liberally.

At 9.00 am, our driver Chilay arrived as did out guide, Dil, and we were off and away for a day of strenuous sightseeing. Our first stop was the spot that’s colloquially called Buddha Point—it is Thimphu’s most visited monument and perhaps the most well-known of all Bhutanese tourist sites.

Exploring Buddha Point or Seated Buddha Dordenma or Kuensal Phodrang:

The seated Buddha statue perched high on a mountain overlooking Thimphu is the world’s largest statue of its kind. Long before you actually reach the heights of this strategic mountain, you are able to see the statue for it is so prominent that is dominates the city’s skyline. To reach the statue, you take a long and winding motorable road that offers lovely views of a uniformly planned and constructed capital city that lacks any of the eyesores of most urban settlements: no ugly human habitations, no street lights, no jarring billboards or screeching advertisements. As we made our way to the top, we passed by the military headquarters and soon found ourselves following an official convoy, probably conveying an important minister to his next destination. We thought initially that we were behind a member of the royal family as many pedestrians stood in respectful attention as the car passed. But Dil, our guide, soon told us that it was a member of Parliament, probably making his way to the Fortress of official buildings that burrow in the valley.

When we did eventually get to the spot, they car park was full. We left the majority of our belongings in the van and carried along our phone-cameras only. There was a slight uphill climb to the peak of the mountain which, given the tourist season, was a bit chaotic. Vehicles wove in and out of the parking slots, guides (always male and always dressed impeccably, by the way, in the traditional ‘gho’ outfit, comprising a tartan-checked tunic with pure white cuffs on the long sleeves, knee-length dark socks and flat black shoes) were milling around and helping visitors negotiate their way to the top. At the imposing gate, we received closer views of the most imposing seated Buddha—and indeed it was a stupendous sight. Dil told us to remain seated on a low platform as he stood in a long and slow-moving line to obtain our tickets (for which, in the tour package we had purchased, we had to pay our own entry fees—Rs. 500). By the way, Indian currency is parallel tender in Bhutan and co-exists easily with Bhutanese Ngultrum (abbreviated as Nu and carrying impressions of the King on its paper versions). It was a very long time, more than half an hour, before Dil returned to us with our tickets. The wait offered us the opportunity to click pictures of a most arresting corner of Bhutan, to people watch and to marvel at the architectural design of the space.

To make our way to the entrance of the statue, we passed by at least a dozen gilded standing statues of divinities. They surrounded the high pedestal on which the Buddha (Sakyamuni, founder of Buddhism) is seated. Shot against the deep green mountains behind, they make striking pictures. As we headed closer to the entrance, the Buddha grew more sizeable (a height of 51.5 meters) and we were able to discern the tonal variations in the hollow brass statue that sits at a height of almost 3000 meters. A short flight of stairs then took us to the entrance, where in keeping with Buddhist customs, we were asked to put away our cameras, take off our caps/hats and sunglasses and maintain respectful silence. The inability to take pictures anywhere inside temples makes it necessary (and a bit frustrating) to commit all interior wonders to memory and, after a while, as one explores one temple after the other, their visual details blur into a muddle of staggering proportions.

As soon as we entered the sanctum sanctorum, we were struck as if by a thunderbolt. No amount of description on my part will do justice to what we saw before us. Every inch of wall was covered with the most exquisite frescoes as to leave us stunned. A multitude of pillars, richly embellished with gold decoration in a sort of spatial filigree, made the entire area appear palatial. The walls were covered with tiny cubicles in each of which was a miniature version of Sakyamuni Buddha in varied seated poses—each gesture signifying a different message as he attempted to attain Nirvana under the Bodhi Tree. It is hard to say how many hundreds of tiny Buddha statues encircle this space. The ceiling is heavily painted with Buddhist iconography that is simply arresting.

As we made our way deeper into the temple, we arrived at three massive statues in close proximity: in the center is Buddha Sakyamuni flanked by Guru Padmasambava (the Guru who is recognized because he sits on a lotus throne—Padma meaning lotus) and Guru Rimpoche (who is revered for bringing Buddhism to Bhutan). They are not just massive but lavishly gilded and decorated in the most elaborate manner with tin and clay figurines that surround them. I also became introduced to a unique form of Bhutanese art called dough craft—this involves the fashioning of varied shapes out of dough (just flour and water, later dried). They are used to construct sculptural figures that are either left as they are or painted in vivid colors and usually placed near the religious statues in a temple. Once again, I found myself feeling sorry that I could take no pictures as these items are so photogenic and so impossible to commit entirely to memory.

Once we had taken in the wonders of these intricate altars, we left the temple precincts and made our way back to our van—but not before we circled the entire complex on foot. The space comprises generous proportions with a flight of stairs at the back that take one down to the base. At every stage, the statue of the Buddha provides photographic opportunities, and we took many pictures as a group and as couples.

Eventually, we reached our van with the quiet satisfaction of having witnessed one of the most compelling sights in Bhutan. When we asked Dil where we were headed next, we drove by the King’s Memorial Chorten (Stupa), a large white structure by the wayside with a striking golden spire and bells. Unlike most other stupas, there are no human remains concealed within this structure. Only the Druk Gyalpo’s photo in ceremonial dress adorns a hall on the ground floor. We did not park our van or enter this monument, but were satisfied with merely photographing it from the outside before we moved on. It must be remembered that these two monuments were meant to be covered by us yesterday—but having been detained by Immigration formalities, we had lost a lot of time and needed to make up for it.

Exploring the Open-air, Interactive Museum known as ‘Simply Bhutan’:

Simply Bhutan is a big attraction among tourists in Thimphu (especially Indian tourists who are keen to ‘do’ things when they travel). After parking our van, we walked a few meters to the entrance (Rs. 500 to enter) and found ourselves in a series of small, low buildings, each of which houses a different attraction. At the outset, we were introduced to the place (this time by pretty female guides) and offered a small dram of wheat wine. It tasted like neat gin and was quite startling to the uninitiated. We were then led in groups to a small door which opened into a courtyard. In this space, two young Bhutanese men were performing a harvest dance—Bhutan is highly agricultural and the nation’s calendar is punctuated by events that coincide with the four seasons and the natural rhythm of nature. We were also, at this point, taken to a hidden corner where we were introduced to the Bhutanese Buddhist practice of phallic-worship (also present in Hinduism, if less visible and exuberant). A number of large phalluses were housed in the corner and we were explained their significance—they are part and parcel of the fertility rites that are central to Buddhist practice in this part of the world—understandable, I suppose, in a country whose population is decreasing, unlike its more prolific neighbor, India.

We then passed by a corridor filled with large masks made of wood and vividly painted—the figures, both animal and human, feature in Buddhist stories. There was also a whole wall strung with varied stringed musical instruments which introduced us to Bhutan’s musical capabilities. On we went, past another small building, where we were introduced to the making of Bhutanese Butter Tea—a staple feature of the country’s daily diet. We became acquainted with the traditional long and deep butter churners that turn milk and cream into butter (used in the tea) and cheese (used in a variety of Bhutanese dishes). Kitchen utensils and implements lined the walls and shelves of this space in a rustic collection that took us into the humble homes of peasants.

Making the Acquaintance of Pema Tshering and his Incredible Handicrafts:

Leaving this space behind us, we moved into another small courtyard where a multitude of people had gathered to look at something—or someone. We discovered this person to be Pema Tshering, one of Bhutan’s best-known rock stars (as it were) for his unique abilities. Pema could have well languished, like so many of his disabled compatriots. But his birth affliction of cerebral palsy caught the attention of the late Queen Mother of Bhutan who took him under her wing. She recognized his unique artistic abilities and sponsored him to be trained in the incredible art of foot carving and painting. Over a period of six years, Pema achieved the skills necessary to use the toes of his feet exclusively to hold carving implements and paint brushes. With these, he creates wall hangings that he then paints in vivid colors to fashion one of a kind items to decorate the walls of your home.

Blossom had first become introduced to Pema, many years ago. He had piqued her curiosity and she had begun to read more about him as she works with the differently-abled in Kalpakkam, a small outpost outside Chennai. It was her dear wish to meet Pema in person and after she told us about him, all of us were interested in seeing him at work and, if it were not too prohibitively priced, buying a small souvenir to support his endeavors. Hence, we entered his little stall, watched him at work, saw him chatting with patrons and a Bhutanese female guide who interpreted for him and then ended up choosing wall carvings and paintings to take home with us. They were not outrageously priced (although they were more expensive than similar items we were to find in handicraft stores all over Bhutan). Pema was delighted to discover from Blossom that she had come to Bhutan only to meet him. He thanked us in Hindi (saying Shukriya) and offering to sign the items on the back that we had purchased. With our buys in our bags and with Blossom’s mission magnificently accomplished, we moved on.

Simply Bhutan Tour Continues:

Our next port of call was a vast hall in which we were seated around low tables and benches and invited to witness a live performance of traditional Bhutanese dance. We soon discovered that the movements are stylized, slow, graceful and simple and involve both men and women in uniform formations. As we watched, we were served cups of Butter Tea in which cracked rice was sprinkled and accompanied by little cups of sweetened rice. As I was hungry by this point, I must admit, I sampled them rather ravenously. Bhutanese music, played mainly on stringed instruments, provided soft accompaniment to the dance. At the end of it, onlookers were invited to join in on the floor to learn some of the steps themselves. We, however, having more to do, left at this point.

We were next treated to the delights of learning Archery, Bhutan’s national sport. The country has won Olympic medals for this event and continues to wow the world with its prowess. Each of us were given a turn to hold the bow, place the arrow correctly and try to hit the target ahead of us. If you hit the bull’s eye, you are rewarded with a customary dance performed by a few dancers. It was all good fun and every single one of us enjoyed the experience and thought that archery would be a good sport to take up. On the other side of this same courtyard, you could practice using strong magnets to fish out objects from a large basin of water. After watching for a little while, we decided to move on. There were still many items on our agenda and it was also almost 2 pm.

It was not long before we were told that two items on the agenda that we were really keen to see (The National Library and Archives of Bhutan and the Folk Heritage Museum) would be closed today as it was a Sunday. This was quite disappointing to all of us as we were really keen to discover the art, culture, society and religion of the Bhutanese as exhibited in their public spaces.

Lunch at the Folk Heritage Museum:

By his point in our travels, we were also tired of eating Indian food everywhere. All of us are adventurous foodies and we had looked forward to tasting traditional Bhutanese cuisine and had also done some research about it. We told Dil to take us to a place where we could try some typical Bhutanese food and he suggested the Folk Heritage Museum. Although the museum was closed, he did tell us that the restaurant attached to it (where traditional foods of Bhutan were served) would be a safe bet. This excursion also allowed us to enter the precincts of the Museum which we found to be open (we had received incorrect information from Dil) and for Rs. 700 per head, we’d be able to explore it. However, as we were hungry by this point, lunch was our first priority.

This meal turned out to be one of our least favorite. We opted for the non-veg set menu which offered us a choice of beef, chicken or fish. With each of us opting for a different protein, we had a variety. However, we were most disappointed by the preparation: aside from the chicken which appeared in a tasty thick gravy, the fish and beef were done to death. They were hard, unappetizing and quite tasteless as all the natural juices had been cooked right out of them. The accompaniments were not bad: we had stewed greens that resembled spinach but did not have the same taste or texture. The other items were ‘kewa dashi’ (potatoes in thick cheese sauce) and ‘emma dashi’ (this time made with dried red chillis, not fresh one, and so spicy that it was just impossible for any of us to eat it). There was also the thick, red Bhutanese rice which I find inedible, served with dal. But the chilli pickle served as a condiment was not too bad in minute quantities. Overall, the traditional Bhutanese meal was a damper to our spirits as we had been looking forward to it and realized that we had not chosen the best place to sample it. However, this stop allowed us to see what the Folk Heritage Museum looks like and although we declined to pay the extra Rs. 700 for a half hour tour of the interior, we did browse through the attached gift shop.

Visiting the Tarkin Preserve:

Our next port of call was the Tarkin Preserve which is another large attraction in Thimphu. We soon discovered that the tarkin—a result of cross-breeding a cow and a goat—has resulted in a rather peculiar-looking beast that is native to Bhutan and is found nowhere else. It is considered to be wild life and is not domesticated. To see it, the visitor needs to go to this preserve where a large herd of them, co-existing peacefully with other large beasts that look like yaks and a couple of sambhar deer, might be photographed and surveyed. In this peaceful pocket, these animals live quietly in the knowledge that there are no predators to worry about.

It took a bit of an uphill climb to get to the Preserve but the slope was not too steep and Dil gave us enough time to get there. Once in the precincts of the Preserve, we could see the animals in very large cages that gave them adequate space to move around at leisure. But aside from this sight, there is nothing much of significance in this visit and if anyone has time constraints, they would be well advised to drop this item from the agenda.

It was while we were at the Tarkin Preserve that the skies turned ominously dark and the distant rumble of thunder reached our ears. Dil informed us that it would soon start raining and remain wet for the rest of the evening. He suggested we go back to our hotel, but we had already felt deprived from having missed out on key items on our agenda and, instead, requested, him to take us to a shopping area where we could see how daily life was lived in Thimphu. In getting to this place, we passed by the Coronation Park, which is a beautifully laid out and contains statues and photographs of Bhutan’s string of kings. The country is very proud of its monarchy and its current royal family comprising of a very handsome king, his pretty wife, two sons and a little daughter. Their portraits are to be seen in most public places in Bhutan and indeed they make a charming focal point. However, as it was raining, we did not stop at the park, but carried on towards the Centenary Market.

Browsing through the Centenary Market:

The Centenary Market would be our last port of call today. Although it was not strictly on our agenda, we requested Dil to take us there. This was the benefit of having a small private group tour—we had the freedom to make our own decisions about where to go and what to do. The Centenary Market turned out to be a two-storied covered market filled with stalls selling fresh produce from the neighboring farms. It is frequented by the locals who do their shopping daily so that their food is fresh and seasonal.

But before we began our exploration of the wares, we stopped to have a coffee as the rain had brought along much colder weather. Our entire day in Thimpu was cold (especially in the morning on the high mountain tops) and we were grateful that we had packed a couple of warm clothing items to see us through it. Our cappuccinos, lattes and hot chocolate hit the spot and by the time we finished sipping them and laughing at our memories of the day, we were ready to begin browsing through the market.

We soon discovered that every stall sold pretty much the same produce. All items were very hygienically packed in see-through plastic wrap. Aside from the usual vegetables, there were mounds of fresh and dried chills, loads of honey made from the nectar of a variety of flowers, mountains of spices, both whole and ground, teas of all sorts and flavors, etc. etc. It was fascinating to take in all these sights, but after a while, the sameness became monotonous and we decided to leave.

We called for our driver and guide and before long, were piling back into the van for the last part of our day: socializing over peach wine and nibbles in one of our rooms before getting down to the restaurant for dinner. The restaurant buffet at Hotel Migmar offered us soup as well as a range of veg and non-veg items—rice, roti, papad, dal, buttermilk, chicken curry, emma dashi, stewed vegetables and tinned fruit salad with cream for dessert. We ate well as sightseeing has made us hungry and the mountain air had stimulated our appetites. Then, bidding each other goodnight, we returned to our rooms for another restful night.

Until tomorrow, keep smiling…

Day Two: Bhutan--From Puesntsholing to Thimphu (Bhutan’s Capital): A Journey into the Clouds.

Saturday, May 9, 2026

Day Two: From Puesntsholing to Thimphu (Bhutan’s Capital): A Journey into the Clouds.

Both Llew and I slept well—probably a result of the dram of peach wine that we had bought at the Bhutan Duty Free shop, the previous night, and which turned out to be super delicious. As early risers, all of us were excited to peep outside our windows and survey the scene below—it was typically Bhutanese, i.e. very foreign. Bhutanese people of all ages and both genders, were circling the temple (Zangto Peri Lakhang) and the wider temple square for their daily morning constitutional. Many had prayer beads in their hands and were clearly using the exercise to pray. Others were turning the massive prayer wheel just below our window—so that periodically, we heard the lovely evocative sounds of the temple bell. Yet, others were feeding pigeons (flocks of them were seated on the temple roof and flying down for an occasional peck), yet others were practicing Tai Chi. The sun gilded the top of the pagoda structure and in the far distance, we could see the mountains that created a beautiful silhouette for the unfolding scene below.

After showers, we had planned to meet the rest of our group downstairs in the restaurant for breakfast. Everyone showed up on time, packed and ready to move on—Puentsholing was only a one-night stopover before our real travels in Bhutan began. In fact, it is interesting to note that Indians are permitted to stay in Bhutan for 24 hours (usually in the border town of Puentsholing) for up to 24 hours without a visa. Many of the residents of India’s border town, Jaigoan and its vicinity, and Bhutan’s Puentsholing and its vicinity, walk across the border, in and out of two countries routinely for shopping and other needs. As the cost of living is much higher in Bhutan, we saw loads of Bhutanese hauling loads of common items such as sacks of onions and potatoes from India into Bhutan for their daily needs.

Breakfast done, we assembled in the hotel lobby at 9.00 am (as instructed by our guide on the phone, the previous evening) and sat waiting for him. He showed up, just a little after 9.00 am, took our passports and told us to wait as he had to deal with our Immigration formalities. We volunteered to go with him; but he informed us that it would be a long wait and we were better off sitting in the hotel lobby. We took his advice and waited. And Waited. And Waited. Yes, we waited for what seemed like forever. By the time he returned to us, it was 11.30 am—we had spent two and a half hours sitting in the lobby at Hotel Park. Occasionally, we walked out into the temple square to stretch our legs, but our impatience levels grew, the longer we were kept waiting. We do wish our guide had collected our passports the previous evening and stood in the line earlier in the morning (if the predicted wait was so long).

Finally! On our Way to Thimphu:

It was an age before our guide returned. This time, he actually introduced himself to us really formally. His name, he said, was Dil Kumar (unlike most Bhutanese, he is a Hindu). He told us that he would be our guide and would stay with us for the next 7 days. He also introduced us to our driver, a wacko character named Chilay (Buddhist) who did not speak English but had very good Hindi proficiency (thanks to the Hindi movies that are addictive in Bhutan). Chilay would also provide us with a few good laughs throughout our trip, while Dil was serious, even morose. I did not see him crack a smile at all during our entire travels. However, he was knowledgeable, fluent in English, conveyed his store of information clearly and easily understood. For all these things, I was very grateful. He was also able to answer all our questions throughout our long drives with him: questions that pertained to Bhutan’s population, its marriage practices, its form of government (a democratic monarchy), its royal family, etc. etc. etc. There was a lot we learned about Bhutan from Dil during our travels.

Before we left and entered the van (a much more spacious van than the previous day had brought us—much to our relief), we were treated to a lovely ‘Welcome to Bhutan’ ceremony that was conducted by Dil in the beautiful front garden of our hotel. It involved the gifting of a traditional white silk stole/shawl to each of us. This was placed in our outstretched arms and had to be draped around our necks by us. As he handed the stole over, Dil uttered a few words (in Bhutanese) of welcome. We were all suitably humbled by such a warm cultural gesture and were not really clear how we ought to react—as such, each of us had different (sometimes amusing) responses. With our stoles around our necks, we then had our baggage packed into our van and began the long journey into Thimphu.

The drive into Thimphu (Bhutan’s capital) introduced us to the fabled beauty of this country. As it is so high up (in the foothills of the Eastern Himalayas), it tends to be shrouded, for a good part of the day, by clouds. As we left Puentsholing behind, we found ourselves enveloped by glorious mountains in multiple shades of green as they are entirely draped by thick forests. Spring was clearly in the air (Bhutan is in the temperate zone) and the cool, clean atmosphere was such a relief for our clogged lungs that have been exposed to the most awful air pollution in India. This break was primarily a treat for our lungs and we breathed in deeply.

Driving in Bhutan is no mean task. While drivers in India have acquired supreme skills in dodging traffic, humans who saunter on to the road, animals who claim highway space for themselves, etc. drivers in Bhutan are experts at negotiating the hairpin bends that are a routine feature in their nation. You need to have very steady nerves to undertake the sharp curves and bends, blind spots, sudden appearance of oncoming traffic and the awareness that, as you climb higher, you have a much deeper valley into which you could tumble. It is not a pleasing thought and we were grateful we had Chilay to do the hard work for us. Initially, we enjoyed the passing landscape as we climbed ever higher. But soon, we had to make a stop at a very popular spot.

Exploring His Majesty’s Armed Forces Memorial Chortens En Route at Chukha:

About 90 minutes into our road trip, we stopped at a wayside venue that offers a really stunning visual treat: a series of seven chortens (stupas or memorial structures) that are highly decorated and really colorful. They depict important stages in the life of the Buddha (founder of Buddhism) through a chain of towering white stupas, each of which holds a small plaque that explains its raison d’etre. High up, perched in a glass window, is a statue of the Buddha in varied poses. The chortens rise in a straight single line and are constructed in the midst of pleasing gardens that were abloom with spring and early summer flowers (azaleas, geraniums, even roses). The site is so visually arresting that it made for wonderful photo ops and we took several—of the chortens and the surrounding gardens. As the plaques are self-explanatory, we did not need the services of Dil to enlighten us. A short stop later, an opportunity to stretch our legs, we were back in the van again.

We stopped once more when we passed by a row of vendors in a bend in the road. Members of our party were attracted by the fresh produce being sold in wayside stalls—some quite unusual, such as fiddlestick ferns, asparagus, fingerling potatoes and artichokes. These are vegetables with which we, in America, are familiar. But they are unfamiliar to most Indians. We also saw a massive amount of chillis in varied shapes, sizes, colors and forms. Chilli is a staple vegetable in Bhutan and is prepared in a number of ways. Of these, Emma Dashi is the most common and familiar—it involves cooking chillis with local cheese (the cheese tempers the fieriness of the chillis). It was really the only Bhutanese dish we had the opportunity to taste on our travels. Some of the versions were really good, others were nothing to write home about. But “Emma Dashi” became our catch word (instead of “Cheese”) every time we posed, as a group, for pictures. This fund of private jokes kept growing as the tour progressed. We did not leave the spot without buying roasted corn on the cob—a tasty treat with its seasoning of garlic, chilli and lime. It kept the hunger pangs at bay as it was lunch time and we were peckish.

Although after a while the scenery gets similar, there are some elements that punctuated the drive that are worthy of mention: we passed a few pretty waterfalls, we made the acquaintance of bands of cheeky monkeys who besieged the road, we crossed over several concrete bridges over gushing rivers beneath us, we drove deep into the clouds (with little visibility—which made for several hairy moments), we saw trees dotted with white flowers like a froth covering them. Occasionally, we passed through segments where road works were in progress—in these stretches, we were reminded of the road work being done on Bandra’s Kantwadi Road—and such bits came to be christened “Kantwadi Road” for us in the van! Yes, by the end of the trip, we had created our own store house of private jokes that would seem funny to no one else but ourselves. These sections were bumpy and uncomfortable and our guide apologized for them.

Stopping for Lunch at ‘The Pit Stop’:

As the van ate up the miles, time also flowed gently by and it was soon time for lunch. Dil made ‘The Pit Stop’ (very aptly named) our meal spot. But because we had been so badly delayed at the time of our departure by the Immigration formalities, we arrived at the restaurant to find that the buffet offerings had been entirely swiped. There was nothing in the dishes (much to our disappointment as we were hungry and ready to eat a ravenous meal); but a few inquiries with the staff led to the replenishing of a couple of dishes—there was one vegetable and a chicken curry made available to us and with rice, roti and papads, we had a filling (if not necessarily enjoyable) meal.

I have to say a word, at this point, about a distinctively Bhutanese drink (and meal-time accompaniment) called Butter Tea (this is to be distinguished from Milk Tea—which is the sort usually drunk in India). Butter Tea is made with a combination of herbal leaves that are steeped in water to emit their flavor and then served with a mixture of yogurt and salt using manual churners—today, the tendency is to make it in a mixie. I found it utterly delightful as it was reminiscent to me of chicken broth. I actually drank enormous portions of it throughout our trip and even bought a packet of Butter Tea leaves to take home to Bombay. Fortunately, there was Butter Tea at this buffet station and I enjoyed it immensely.

Lunch done, we were back in the van again. Once again, we passed through interesting scenery but it was old hat after a while as there is a typical sameness to it all.

Stopping at the Confluence of the Mo-chu and Po-Chu Rivers:

We had one more stop before we arrived at Thimphu. This site is a popular venue for folks on this long road trip. Just at the point where the highway takes a turn (literally)—one branch of it going to Thimphu, the other to Paro--you pass by a huge ceremonial gate and right by its side is a lovely look-over: it allows visitors to take in the sight of the meeting or confluence of the two rivers, The Mo-Chu and the Po-Chu. They unite rather picturesquely with the mountains as a heightened backdrop before they merge and become another larger, broader river—the Raidak. Yes, we all took pictures at this spot as we realized that this was quintessential Bhutan: emerald-draped mountain slopes, raging rivers with mini rapids in them, a small stupa on the river banks to commemorate the passing away of a beloved soul. These elements made us feel as if we were fully imbibing the spirit of this sacred land that dwells in the clouds.

Arrival in Thimphu:

And finally, after what had seemed like an interminable road journey, we skirted the city of Thimphu (Bhutan’s current capital). The city is renowned for being the only world capital that has no traffic lights. Instead, there are rotaries and, apparently, (although we did not see any), dancing policemen who direct traffic to keep it moving. The city appeared to be super clean, visually neat, and composed of man-made structures in just two colors--off-white and orche. Roofs were built uniformly in just two colors: green (signifying official buildings) and red (signifying domestic structures). The homogeneity of colors gave the entire city a very pleasing appearance and with the absolute lack of massive, screaming billboards to ruin the natural mountain landscape, it was a true delight to enter this city. In fact, we learned soon enough, that Thimphu crouches in the depths of a very verdant valley, completely surrounded by ice-encrusted Himalayas that still held tell-tale signs of a past winter in its remnant snow caps.

We had made plans to meet in Blossom’s room for aperitifs and nibbles (we had all been carrying a variety of savory snacks, dry fruits and nuts which had also provided snacking opportunities during our journey) and the peach wine and red wine (Llew’s choice) we carried allowed us to have sociable times together before we adjourned to the restaurant for dinner.

Checking Into Hotel Migmar:

We had made plans to meet in Blossom’s room for aperitifs and nibbles (we had all been carrying a variety of savory snacks, dry fruits and nuts which had also provided snacking opportunities during our journey) and the peach wine and red wine (Llew’s choice) we carried allowed us to have sociable times together before we adjourned to the restaurant for dinner.

Our accommodation for the next two nights was in Hotel Migmar, a lovely, beautifully decorated series of buildings, right on the main road, that had a spacious front courtyard and a striking lobby with a restaurant tucked on one side. We had a Welcome Drink served to us upon entry and within no time at all, had our keys in our hands. Our baggage was always seamlessly brought to our rooms—which turned out to be clean, pretty, well-appointed and offering lovely views of the city below and the distant mountains.

We had made plans to meet in Blossom’s room for aperitifs and nibbles (we had all been carrying a variety of savory snacks, dry fruits and nuts which had also provided snacking opportunities during our journey) and the peach wine and red wine (Llew’s choice) we carried allowed us to have sociable times together before we adjourned to the restaurant for dinner.

Dinner was pretty much the same everywhere we went. In many places, there was soup as a first course and we brought bowls of sweet corn soup to our table. Later, we helped ourselves to rice, rotis, dal, butter chicken, emma dashi, Indian-style vegetables, papads and dessert. We always sat together, ate heartily, laughed over the events of the day and usually on a very happy note, returned to our rooms, to spend peaceful nights.

Yes, we had lost an entire evening’s intended sightseeing (as the immigration formalities had delayed us), but Dil assured us that we would still manage to cover all of it, tomorrow. We hoped he would be correct.

Until tomorrow, keep smiling…

Bewitching Bhutan--A Journey into a Mythical Shangri-La! Day One: Getting There and Our First Introduction to a Himalayan Hamlet

Friday, May 8, 2026

Day one: Getting There and Our First Introduction to Bhutan:

The urge to travel in Bhutan had been irrepressible for tears. But what had made it prohibitive was the notorious SDF (Sustainable Development Fee) that Bhutan levies on all tourists in an attempt to keep their numbers low. The country’s motto is: “High Quality, Low Volume”. During Covid, the country was entirely closed to visitors. When it reopened, it lowered the tax to a more affordable $100 per head, per day (from a rumored $200). Rumor further has it that in 2027, this tax will be increased to $250 per day—and yes, that would make it unaffordable for many. Hence, what made travels in the Himalayan nation suddenly attractive was the desire to take advantage of the lowered tax. Wasting no time, I put together a group of like-minded friends, found a travel agency (Gilanneric Travels based in Bombay) who actually had an existing tour to Bhutan, and began planning. Out of the 20 folk I invited to join us, three were actually able to go and, in the end, other than Llew and I, we had my cousin Blossom (Chennai), her daughter Menaka (Bangalore) and our friend, Marisa (Bombay) swell our group to five. We realized only days before our departure that the rest of the passengers who had joined the same tour had postponed their departure to the end of the month. This meant that we would be a private tour group of just five folks—a proposal that left us exhilarated. We had the best time. Here is an account of our trip.

Journey from Bombay to Puentsholing (via Siliguri)

The excitement of what and how to pack for varying temperatures over a week, the research each one of us did on what not to miss in Bhutan, the tourist reading I’d done, added to our itinerary and then circulated among the group, had occupied us for days before our departure. Blossom and Menaka were flying out of Bangalore and would join us at Bagdogra airport in Siliguri in West Bengal. Marisa, Llew and I were flying out of Bombay. Our Akasa Air flight was scheduled to leave Bombay at 8.20 am. As all of us were checking in a bag (Llew’s recent hernia surgery making the pulling and lifting of heavy loads prohibited), we needed to be at the airport by 6.20 am. Accordingly, Llew and I left out apartment at 5.30 am by Uber, stopped off at Marisa’s place en route to pick her up and were off and away.

We arrived at the Bombay Domestic airport in Santa Cruz exactly on schedule at 6.15 am and went through the check-in procedure (which was entirely painless) as Llew and I only had a carry-on size cabin bag each while Marisa had a medium sized suitcase. Left with more than an hour on our hands, we sought out coffee. McDee’s (that’s McDonald’s for you) to the rescue…the coffee was good and reasonably priced and with Candie’s legendary chicken mayo sandwiches in white and brown bread (that I had picked up last night), we sat down together and ate our breakfast (as our air tickets booked by our travel agent, Gilroy) did not include a meal.

When Boarding was announced, we joined our fellow-passengers to enter a coach that took us across the tarmacs (for what felt like ages) to get us to our aircraft. The flight was on time, comfortable and uneventful. The three of us spent all of the three hours chatting away, catching up on recent happenings in our lives and getting ready for the thrills of travel that lay ahead

We landed at 11.30 am at Bagdogra airport, looked for rest rooms while awaiting our baggage at the conveyor belt—and at this time, we spotted Menaka and Blossom who had landed just ten minutes ahead of us from Bangalore. We had an affectionate reunion and after ensuring we had all our baggage, we left the terminal to look for our driver-escort (who had been in touch with me by phone) named Rashid, who would be driving us from Bagdogra through the town of Siliguri and into Puentsholing (the Bhutanese border town that kisses the Indian border town of Jaigoan in West Bengal)—the two towns are separated by the much-photographed Bhutan Gate-- entry to the mystical, mythical land of clouds and snow.

We made contact with Rashid, got into our car and discovered that it would be a truly crammed journey. What with our baggage, our driver and the five of us, we had poor Marisa sitting in the midst of our baggage, practically crouched at the back. It would not be a pleasant journey for her, nor a very comfortable one for us as we had zero leg room and a long road-trip to undertake. It was the first thing we would need to rectify on the return journey.

Gilroy had told us to ensure that the driver stopped at a place called K B Restaurant for lunch—it was about 1.30 pm by this time and we were ready for a meal. The place was very clean, popular with travelers and air-conditioned on the upper floor—where we trooped. We were seated at a tale and enjoyed table service of a set meal that was served family style. Our lunch comprised Rice, Roti, Papad, pickle, chicken curry, two types of vegetable and yogurt. For dessert, we had ras gullas. Everything was tasty and home-grown and it made for a very satisfying meal. After using rest rooms again, we resumed our journey as Rashid told us that Llew and I (being Americans) would need to go through Indian Immigration services at Jaigoan. Their office closed at 5.30pm—hence, the need to get on with the trip. Back into the car we piled and off we went.

The journey was actually quite interesting. We realized how green it is in rural West Bengal. For miles and miles, we passed by irrigated tea estates (yes, although we were on flat grounds). We also passed by the Jaldapara Wildlife Refuge—home of the Indian rhino but also stocking elephants, tigers, gaurs, etc. We passed by a number of sleepy towns and villages that have seen no development in forever—a fact of Indian rural life that is hard to understand.

Without too much time to spare, we arrived at the Indian Immigration outpost in Jaigoan. It was a smallish property that could certainly do with some sprucing up. Llew’s visa created some confusion for the inexperienced consular officer who, after consulting with his supervisor, stamped his passport. With that, we returned to the car (it had been a wait of about 45 minutes) and proceeded to the border formalities on the Indian side of the fence.

This matter caused a bit of a rigmarole as we were required to hand carry our baggage from our car through the Indian outpost (located in a miserable little lane). Rashid informed us that we could hire a coolie to carry our baggage across to the Bhutanese side and this we did for Rs. 300. We went through the formalities conducted by two smiling Indian women and with that done, were able to go through the formalities on the Bhutanese side. This facility was infinitely better—it comprised a lovely office with sweetly smiling Bhutanese officers who stamped our passports and welcomed us into their country. We walked along a wide corridor lined with beautiful pictures of Bhutan and decorated with symbols of their religion (Buddhism) and culture (Himalayan).

On the other side in the Bhutanese town of Puentsholing, we were met, once again, by Rashid, who then drove us to our hotel. We’d had a last minute change in our hotel (from the Palm Hotel to the Park Hotel) but it was only two minutes away from the Immigration site. I have to remark that there is a startling visual change on this side of the border. While Jaigoan is decrepit, dirty, disorganized and frankly quite disgusting. Puentsholing—literally across a huge ornamental gate—is immaculate! The streets are beautifully paved, super clean and safe (you do not risk tripping and falling over loose debris at every step). Structures are primly painted, billboards are subtle and not a visual assault and street signs and directions for drivers are discrete and orderly. It is a sad commentary on the government of West Bengal that allows its border towns to languish in such a state of disrepair. ‘ Warmly welcomed by the hotel staff with a refreshing drink of orange squash (a truly Welcome drink in every sense of the word), we went through check-in formalities, received our room keys and got to our rooms, resolving to meet again in the lobby in half an hour for our first exploration of this lovely foreign country that, in many ways, appeared so familiar, and yet was so different. Once in our room, a corner room with a wide picture-window that overlooked the main temple square of Puentsholing, we realized how much we had lucked out on its location. Indeed, the glorious temple stared us in the face and would become a beacon of Buddhist practice in our first initiation into it.

Visit to Zangto Peri Lakhang in Puentsholing:

It would not be long before we would learn the basic sight-seeing vocabulary of Bhutan. A Lakhang is a temple and with our hotel located right in the temple square, it was a no-brainer that we would begin our travels in Bhutan with a visit to this sacred place. And indeed, we were struck by its architecture and decoration. It represents the heaven (paradise) of Guru Rimpoche—a very important figure in Bhutanese Buddhism as he was the spiritual figure who brought Buddhism to Bhutan. On the ground floor—accessed after we took off our shoes and climbed 4-5 steps--we saw stunning, gigantic statues of the Guru, surrounded by his eight manifestations. The walls were highly ornate, painted over with vivid frescoes representing scenes from the life of the Buddha (Siddhartha Gautam also known as Sakyamani—founder of Buddhism) and highly decorative. We saw all the symbols and iconography associated with the religions—lotus flowers, golden fish, etc. Sadly, photography is not allowed in any of the temples of Bhutan—which means that all we have to rely on is our memory and, as one temple gives way to the next, these inevitably blur in the mind. Although this is a three-storied temple, the tiers rising up like a pagoda in descending size, we were not allowed to climb to the higher floor. Worship of Guru Rimpoche had brought devotees out at that evening hour to turn the huge and very decorative prayer wheel, engraved in gold with Buddhist calligraphy, who then walked in our midst as we encircled the temple and took photographs. The building is beautifully lit up at night and very strategically illuminated to highlight stylized paintings on the exterior walls.

It is hard to believe that this is a relatively modern temple. It was first constructed in 1980 with a major renovation occurring in 1990. As this square is the focal point for all tourists, it is not surprising that the most enticing shops are situated around it. A huge sign proclaiming a Bhutan Duty Free store attracted a lot of tourists, all of them Indians, checking out the alcohol and perfume and the formalities associated with buying in Bhutan. It turned out that the store needed photocopies of our passports and our Bhutanese entry permits that needed to be left with them at the till at the time of making payment. Naturally, as we would be passing through Puentsholing and spending one night here upon our return, we resolved to obtain those photocopies and make our duty free purchases upon our return to the town.

We did also explore a few other stores—handicrafts, groceries, Chinese-made goods—before we decided to call it a day and return to our hotel for dinner. Dining hours in Bhutanese hotels are early by Indian standards: from 7-9pm, in our case. Hence, there wasn’t much time to lose.

Dinner in the Park Hotel was a buffet—I soon realized that we would be eating a lot of Indian food as the majority of the tourists here are Indias. It was rare to see white tourists (as the SDT is off-putting). Hence, the offerings are standard Indian ones—there is always rice and rotis, plus one non-veg item (here it was chicken curry), two veg items, dal (stewed lentils) and a dessert. Nothing to rave about and nothing to complain about either. For us, sitting down to enjoy our first dinner together and still filled with exuberant energy and the promise of great times ahead, we were in high spirits as we dived into our meal. We had an entertaining young waiter who was most taken by Blossom’s blue eyes and lavished compliments upon her, much to her delight and our amusement! And on that happy note, replete with a good meal, we returned to our rooms to stretch out and rest and promised to meet again at 8.00 am, the next morning, for breakfast.

Until tomorrow…keep smiling!

Day Nine. Captivating Kerala. Last Bits and Bobs in Cochin and Return to Bombay

Saturday, January 17, 2026:

Last Day in Kerala and Return to Bombay

And so our stay in Kerala came to a close today as we ended our travels covering the last bits and bobs of sightseeing in Cochin.

We awoke within the peaceful cocoon of our Kodianthara Heritage House where the two little grandsons, Zack and Zane, of the host couple, Crispin and Sony, came to our villa to greet us. They were delighted to have us on their property for company and insisted on completing their walking tour with us. We decided to indulge them after we showered, got dressed and packed our bags and kept them ready for departure. But first, breakfast.

Last Breakfast in our Heritage House B and B:

Sony's breakfast of omelets, dosas and dal payassam fuelled us up well for the day. With bananas and coffee, it made a very good meal with which to set out. We spent the next few minutes taking pictures of the property as we walked around to preserve for posterity the happy moments we had spent here. We also asked the lovely host family to pose with us for pictures and they willingly did so—the boys even bringing out their toy cameras to take our pictures. And then it was time for us to say Goodbye. We’d had such a memorable stay in this place that we hope to return and also tell other travelers about our experience. Shiju, our driver, was waiting for us and with our bags piled in the booth, we were ready to drive away

Driving to Cochin:

The drive from Kumarakom to Cochin is not far as the crow flies—but on narrow, country roads, it takes ages to get anywhere. We, therefore, decided to give ourselves up to the true pleasure of passing by rural routes where the daily life of the common people was always in evidence. We crossed a long bridge over Lake Vembanad, saw our last houseboats, and were well into the heart of agricultural Kerala. Banana plantations, coconut groves, mile after mile of toddy tapping trees, spice gardens galore—all the scenes that make up the green, clean and serene quality of our drive were in evidence. We were in no hurry to get anywhere as our flight would be leaving Cochin only at 5.00 pm. We needed to be at the airport by 3.00 pm. This would leave us plenty of time for just two items on our agenda: A visit to the Church of St. George Forane at Edapally in Cochin and a visit to a shop telling the famous banana and jackfruit chips to take as presents for a few people in Bombay. Eventually, we did arrive at Edapally where we parked in the parking lot to see the Church.

The Church of St George Forane at Edapally in Cochin:

I have visited this church before—about seven years ago as I had been told about it by my friends, Bishop Michael and his wife, Cynthia Colclough of London, who had visited it on their travels in South India, a few years ago. The church has been built entirely from the personal and family funds of the Joyaluccas Family of Kerala who are said to be the world’s largest-seller of 24 carat gold jewelry. They have made a staggering fortune from gold trading. Apparently, they began their business in Kerala but then moved it quickly to the countries of the Middle East—essentially the UAE, where their name became synonymous with the purchase of gold ornaments by expatriate Keralites who saved money carefully to buy gold or to construct cottage homes in Kerala.

Well, the church is built on something of a low hill. There are ramps on either side to access it. It is a conical shaped church that resembles, slightly, the Medieval round churches that you occasionally see in the UK (London, Cambridge). You are required to remove your footwear at the door before entering. Once inside, you will be struck by the visual extravaganza that is the church. In keeping with the taste of Keralites, it is ornamental in the extreme. Colors, forms, shapes, decorations coalesce to produce what one might call pure religious eye-candy. And in keeping with their professional interests in gold, the main motif of Christ on the altarpiece is surrounded by lavish gilding—real gold paint, I would assume. There are also wooden carved vignettes on either side of the altar depicting scenes from the Bible. We made a prayerful visit and were struck by the silence and cleanliness of the place. It really is a very attractive house of worship and a testament of thanksgiving by a family that have much gratitude for the financial blessings that have been bestowed upon them.

Off to Buy Edible Gifts:

And then we instructed Shiju to take us to a store from where we could buy edible souvenirs and gifts. He said that there were many shops en route to the airport where we decided we would also eat lunch. And sure enough, we were in a very large shop in about fifteen minutes. From there, we purchased banana chips, jackfruit chips and the famous black halwa for which Kerala is famous and of which my Dad is particularly fond. Those buys done, we got into our car again and drove directly to the airport.

Lunch at Cochin Airport and Departure for Bombay:

We were at the airport at 2.00 pm. This left us enough time to say goodbye and thank-you to Shiju who had provided us with such excellent service for the past ten days. He had driven through extremely tough circumstances—we would never forget the dangerous, fog-ridden drive along the hairpin slopes of the mountains which he had negotiated with courage and ease. Yes, we did have a major language problem with him, but we were able to get around that issue satisfactorily.

With the last few pictures of Shiju and his car taken, we said goodbye and walked towards the terminal. After clearing Security, we had enough time to sit in the food court at KFC and get ourselves crispy chicken burgers with a Coke. It was the only fast food we ate on our entire trip. And when our boarding was announced, we made our way to our gate and, just a little while later, with about a half hour’s delay, we were in a bus heading to the plane and then setting off into the twilight skies as we made our two-hour return flight to Bombay on an Indigo aircraft. Service was brisk and good—we ate chicken tikka sandwiches and blue spiced tea—before it was time to land. In the last of the Ubers that we would hail on this trip, we made our way back home and were in our flat by 9.00 pm.

Conclusion:

Kerala had provided us with a good ten days that were clean, green and serene. It was a real privilege to be able to leave the smog and air pollution of Bombay and retreat to a world where Nature reigns supreme, where the people are even-tempered and kind, where the food is simply outstanding, where the cost of living is low and where one can feel rejuvenated in just a few days. Llew’s first visit to the state was thoroughly enjoyable and I, who had been here before, was equally taken, all over again, by everything that God’s Own Country had to offer.

Thank you for following me on this journey. I hope you will feel tempted to visit this part of the world if you have never been and that you will reconsider a repeat visit if you have.

Until you follow me again on one of my travels, may the road rise up to meet you…

Day Eight. Captivating Kerala. An Ayurvedic Experience, A Solitary Walk Along the Incredibly Beautiful Backwaters of Kerala, A Traditional Home-Cooked Brunch and Afternoon Tea at a Friend’s Home in Kottayam

Friday, January 16, 2026:

An Ayurvedic Experience, A Solitary Walk Along the Incredibly Beautiful Backwaters of Kerala, A Traditional Home-Cooked Brunch and Afternoon Tea at a Friend’s Home in Kottayam.

Today was truly idyllic. We saw Kerala at its best. It revealed itself to us in layers, offering incredibly beautiful natural sightings that were unexpected in the extreme, wonderful aromatherapy and physical massages that soothed the muscles of the body and lifted the cobwebs of the mind and meals that were simple but deeply soul-satisfying.

A Lovely Walk with the Kids Before Breakfast:

One of my greatest joys in Kerala has been waking up to the most delightful bird song in the mornings. I walked out to sit on the balcony of our villa to watch and listen to a variety of birds who were singing their hearts out before breakfast. Then, when the little boys, Zack and Zane, showed up, they insisted on taking us for a walk on the farm. We had a most charming time with them as we visited the ducks and the dog and a bridge over which they suggested I walk—except it was much too narrow and daunting. We passed by coconut groves and banana plantations for this is a working farm that produces an abundant yield each year. By the time we had finished our walk, it was time for showers, to get dressed and organized for the rest of our day. At my recommendation, Llew decided to get a massage—a typically Kerala experience that involves aromatic ayurvedic oils. Accordingly, our hosts Crispin and Sony, tried to find an appointment for him. It was quite impossible for me to get one too as the place was fully booked.

A Light Snack of Coffee and Rusks at our Heritage Home:

Before we set off, Sony brought us cups of steaming coffee and offered us rusks. She told us that a proper breakfast would await us upon our return from the massage. I was grateful for the snack or light breakfast as the clean, unpolluted air, seemed to be doing wonders for my appetite.

Off for An Ayurvedic Massage:

Sony gave instructions to our driver Shiju on how to get us to the place where Llew was scheduled to have an ayurvedic massage. It was a fifteen minute drive away and once we arrived there, we saw that it was a whole ‘village’ (a gated community, really) devoted to ayurvedic healing. It was called Deepmahi Ayurvedic Village and as I read up more about it, I discovered that it is a residential community consisting of boarding and lodging facilities for people interested in retreating from their stressful lives, recharging their batteries and returning rejuvenated for another go at a more serene existence. Among the many facilities that it offers are physical massages using aromatic oils. Llew was connected with a masseur who led him into a room where he disappeared for an hour. I said bye to him and was directed to a small cafe where I could sit down and wait for him. I, however, decided to go for a long walk and it was one of the best decisions I ever made.

A Lone Walk Along the Backwaters of Kerala:

The road outside the village led me along one of the canals that then networked with another canal and yet another so that as I walked further away from the village, I was surrounded by the most blissful images of Nature at her undisturbed best. I started off by spying a huge white egret and an Indian pond heron and, of course I took pictures. There were two fishermen who rowed right by me in a narrow canoe, their fishing tackle in their hands. They were headed out to the Lake to bring in the day’s catch. Just a little ahead of me were brilliant patches of water-lilies in full bloom in vivid shades of pink and magenta. Still ahead were a group of black cormorants basking in the sunshine. At every stage, my camera worked hard to try to capture the stillness and serenity of the scene because I wanted to preserve it in my memory for posterity. A group of ducks then created streams of foaming water as they skimmed past me. Their iridescent feathers were such a striking sight as they paddled furiously alongside the banks.

And on the canal banks themselves, there were more domesticated ducks. They’d just eaten their breakfast and were ready for their first swims of the day. A little arched bridge spanned the banks, a few meters ahead of me. Men wearing mundus (the customary linen lengths of cloth that they wrap around their waists to cover their legs in place of trousers) were attempting to get some coconuts off the trees right outside their little shacks. In the distance, where the lake widened, I could see houseboats and other river craft. Birds circled in the skies above me. It was all so beautiful and so soul-satisfying that I simply cannot put into words how uplifted I felt by this walk. It was the only time in Kerala that I was really and truly alone and I have to say that I enjoyed every bit of my solitude.

After about half an hour, I turned back and retraced my steps to the Ayurvedic village. I entered the gates and then took a walk around it, passing by the cafe and the swimming pool and then, eventually, found a quiet spot in the cafe to sit down and await Llew’s return. At this point, I entered into conversation with one of the residents who had come to this spot from Washington DC. She had spent two weeks detoxing from her fretful life and would be returning home, the next day. She told me a whole lot about the village, its aims and objectives and how relaxing it had been for her to take a break from the rat race in this rural haven.

In about ten minuets, Llew was ready. He had enjoyed his massage and found it very refreshing. He settled the bill (it cost him Rs. 1200—about $15–for an hour’s massage) and then he was all set and ready for us to get back home. We were both ready to do justice to breakfast which, we knew, awaited us.

Breakfast at our Heritage Home:

at our heritage home was truly that—a very homey affair. There was iddiappam which was served with (of all things) maple syrup. It was very good indeed. There were also small dosas with coconut chutney and poha (beaten rice) sweetened with jaggery and freshly grated coconut and bananas. All this was dished out by Sony who worked hard in the kitchen to give us a great spread. We washed it all down with filter coffee—a truly wonderful South Indian breakfast.

Off to Marari Beach for the Morning:

As we had decided that we would have a truly relaxing day today with no real agenda, we resolved to spend a few hours at Marari Beach. This is a lovey stretch of beach that is popular with locals and visitors alike. Shiju drove us there and we procured beach chairs that for Rs. 100 an hour (rental) that allowed us to face the crashing waves of the Arabian Sea and enjoy watching the antics of children and adults as they fought the waves or attempted to swim. It is always fun to watch Indians at the beach as their inhibitions make them behave in really peculiar ways. Women go in fully clad in saris and salwar kameez suits. Men wear jeans and full-sleeve shirts. It is next to impossible to find a local Indian actually wearing a swim suit. Dogs were wading in the waves chasing balls, children were attempting to build sand castles. There were no vendors to be seen—they were all safely placed near the car park and are not allowed to litter the beach which is impressively clean. We spent a most relaxing couple of hours in this manner—doing nothing more strenuous that people-watching and enjoying the quiet relaxation of it all.

A Drive to Kottayam for Afternoon Tea:

At about 2.00 pm, we were ready to move on to the next item on our agenda: an invitation to Afternoon Tea at the home of my school classmate Rachel and her husband Joe. They had given us their address and directions, but we did not realize how very far away it was or how much time it would take for us to reach there. We also had a bit of difficulty finding the place as the road leading to their home was closed for repair work and we needed to take a roundabout route to get there. However, finally, we were at their doorstep—at least an hour behind schedule, much to our chagrin.

However, our hosts were very understanding indeed and it was not long before we sat down to eat. We were badly in need of refreshment as our last meal had been a late breakfast. We met Joe’s mother and sister Elsie and enjoyed a lot of lovely small talk as the ladies fried bajjias and pakoras for us at their stove while also supervising the making of hot cups of tea. When all the ado about food offerings were done in Rachel’s humongous kitchen, we sat down to chat about old times and our childhood in Byculla, Bombay, our convent school days and the like. We were simply overwhelmed by Rachel and Joe’s outpouring of hospitality that included a most generous spread: there were onion bajjias, mixed vegetable pakoras, rice dumplings filled with sweetened grated coconut, banana chips, appams and for dessert (at my request) vermicelli payassam (or pudding). And, of course, cups of tea. Suffice it to say that we never stopped talking and that the evening flew past. We were given a wonderful tour of the garden (a vast sprawling space that is filled with flowers and fruit trees) and then took the grand tour of the home. It is amazing how much domestic space one can occupy when away from a big city like Bombay.

It was a really lovely reunion with a very warm and affectionate friend. Rachel has always been caring and was the only one of my classmates who actually called me during my very first week in Bombay, to welcome me back to the city and offer me any help, if needed, when I relocated to India. I have never forgotten her gesture and will appreciate it all my life. It is little things like these that stay with me forever and I told her how much that call meant to me and why I will never forget it. I was also glad that Llew had a chance to meet Rachel and that both of us had the opportunity to get to know Joe a little better.

With night having fallen over the garden, it was time for us to leave. Don’t ask me where time had flown as we spent precious quality time together. However, after we said our goodbyes, we were back in the car and in Shiju’s hands as he returned us to our lodging where we made straight for a good night’s sleep.

Until tomorrow, see ya’ …

Day Seven. Captivating Kerala. Departure from Cochin and Drive to Lake Vembanad:

Thursday, January 15, 2026:

Departure from Cochin and Drive to Lake Vembanad:

Today was a far more relaxed day and quite the opposite of the highly active time we’d had yesterday. We awoke in our Fort Bridge View Hotel, showered, dressed and had our stuff all packed away before we went downstairs at 8.30 am to eat breakfast, check out and leave.

Breakfast was a repeat performance of our repast yesterday: masala omelettes with three slices of buttered toast and coffee. It was enough to fuel us well for the day as our next meal would be a rather late lunch. We had instructed our driver, Shiju, to return at about 9.30 am to pick us up from our hotel after eating his own breakfast. And, promptly, he arrived at the appointed hour. We checked out, thanked the manager for a comfortable stay and left.

The Long Drive to Lake Vembanad:

The next item on our agenda was a two night stay at Lake Vembanad, which involved a three hour drive from Cochin. This was a distance of just 50 kms (or about 25 miles), but given that most of it would occur through small villages, narrow roads and little towns, it would be slow going. We did not expect to get there before 12 noon (and we left just a little after 9.30 am).

The drive was very pleasant, I have to say. For me, the greatest part of traveling by road anywhere in the world is the opportunity to see local life as it is lived in the area. This is the sort of experience that jetting over lands in an aircraft, thousands of miles above real life, can’t ever give you. We passed by small rustic dwellings, miles of agricultural plantations growing rice, coconuts, spices, arena nuts, ice-apples, etc. We saw many toddy-tapping trees whose sap is collected to make a fermented drink called toddy. This is used as a leavening agent in a lot of the South Indian flatbreads. It gives the bread a tangy flavor. We also passed by dozens of churches in various Cristians denominations including ones of which I had never even heard such as the Knayas and the Foranes. We also passed by scores of newly-built bungalows or cottages—all made with the new money that is remitted by Keralites who live and work in various parts of the world (the UAE and other Middle Eastern nations, the USA, Canada, Australia, the UK, etc). This newly-generated wealth is certainly enriching the coffers of the state which is extremely prosperous. I did not see a single beggar during our entire stay in Kerala—or even a really poor person. People seem to be economically well-contented, no matter their profession in life. We also passed by many small wayside shacks selling tender coconuts and we stopped at one of them to sip cooling tender coconut water. We saw loads of hybrid coconut trees that are really short—no more than six to seven feet tall but already fully capable of producing saffron-colored fruit which you can literally just reach out and pluck off. It is amazing what genetic engineering is doing to agriculture in India and in Kerala, in particular. Meandering through these fields and farms gave us the opportunity to see how common people live in the rural areas, far from the madding crowd of traffic and horns, expensive important merchandise and gold ornaments—for there are literally hundreds of jewelry shops selling 24 carat gold in Kerala. Amazing!

Eventually, we arrived at Lake Vembanad which involved driving across a really long and very broad bridge over a water body which resembles the sea—it was that vast. At the banks, we saw Chinese fishing nets and realized that lake fish is caught daily. We also saw our very first houseboats on the lake and became excited as our first excursion of the day would involve a ride in a houseboat.

A House Boat Stint on Lake Vembanad:

My school classmate Rachel who lives in Kottayam, not far from Lake Venbanad, had put me in touch with a man who hires out his houseboat for short or overnight stays and I had been communicating with him for a week. His name is Crispin Kodianthara and he instructed our driver to arrive at a restaurant called Menani from where his contact would come and pick us up and take us directly to the houseboat. We followed his instructions meticulously and, true to his word, his contact, a man named Ajish Kunnikutan, arrived at the restaurant on his motor bike and told our driver Shiju to follow him to the spot at which we would board the houseboat.

And, about twenty minutes later, we were on the banks of a river where a small houseboat was moored. Ajish turned out to be a very nice man who spoke very good English. For Rs. 7000, we had hired his houseboat to take us on a four hour cruise around Lake Vembanad and the little islets that are part of the famous tour of the Kerala backwaters. This is considered by many visitors to Kerala as a highlight of their stay in this state. This four hour cruise also included lunch on the houseboat—all of which seemed to us like a good deal.

Accordingly, we boarded the houseboat. It was a very modest affair—nothing like the posh ones of which we had seen pictures which have multiple bedrooms and bathrooms, a second balcony tier, etc. This one was a single level vessel with a single bedroom with attached bathroom. We were able to use the rest room right away and then seat ourselves right behind our driver (Ajish) as our cruise began. There was one more person on board, also named Shiju, who assisted in navigation, anchoring, etc. Ajish kept up a steady commentary as we left the mooring and passed by colorful human life on the river’s shores. And then, about twenty minutes later, we were on the huge lake itself, passing by other houseboats and other river craft—there were ferry or taxi services to help the local people get from one shore of the lake to the next.

Throughout our cruise, Ajish kept up a steady commentary. As he is a bird lover and bird watcher, he particularly pointed out to vast numbers of birds that flew all around us: common ones like pond herons, white egrets, loads of seagulls, black cormorants, loons, terns, etc.—even ibis. There were also a couple of really gloriously vivid turquoise-blue kingfishers. We also saw some migratory birds that had arrived from Siberia. We saw some horn-billed birds that were really striking. I loved the bird-watching part of the cruise of all other aspects as this offered an element of nature study that I had not expected. As part of the cruise, Ajish allowed us to the take control of the steering wheel ourselves—which offered some nice photo ops.

Departure from Cochin and Drive to Lake Vembanad:

After two hours, we pulled into a small rivulet which was like an island. Here Ajish told us to take a walk on our own while he got our lunch ready with his associate who cooked in a small kitchen on the island. Llew and I thoroughly enjoyed our 20 minute walk past rice paddies, darting birds and small shops selling local produce (tea, honey) and handicrafts. Kerala is so green and so thick with vegetation that it is truly a pleasure just to loiter around these rural areas, looking at wild flowers, listening to swooping birds as they call to each other or fish for food, etc. The temperature was a bit warm but under the shade of these trees, it was really cool and pleasant.

After our little walk, we made our way back to our houseboat where lunch was all laid out for us on the traditional green banana leaves. There was the thick country-style rice for which Kerala is famed, plus river-fish curry (caught freshly that morning), chicken curry and a platter of delicious, marinated and fried prawns with crispy onion and garlic. Oh my! It was all so delicious and made more flavorful by the river air and our green, serene surroundings. Truly, lunch on this houseboat was one of the highlights of our trip—and there were many.

The Houseboat Cruise Continues:

With Lunch all done and cleared away (there were little yellow bananas for dessert, by the way), we continued for the next two hours of our cruise. I took a short twenty-minute nap as is my wont, in the bedroom on the houseboat. It was a really lazy way to spend part of the afternoon and I enjoyed it completely. For a while, I lay down on the bed and watched the river banks glide past me. This time, Ajish steered us away from the lake to the narrow canals or backwaters. This allowed us to take in rural life on the lake’s banks. We saw people go about their daily activities—cycling to the nearest shop to pick up bread or milk; washing their clothes in the river; hanging them out to dry; sweeping their front yards by their little mud or stucco homes; feeding their domesticated fowl (hens, ducks, etc). We even saw white-headed, brown eagles fly high in the sky and then come to rest on the coconut trees.

Yes indeed—we also saw a steady steam of bird life—from mallards and ducks that swam right by our vessel to kingfishers ducking from the trees into the water as they looked for food. We saw hundreds of egrets in the fallow fields pecking for grubs in the freshly mown earth; we saw men climbing coconut trees and bringing down whole bunches of ripe fruit. It was indeed a most wonderful sight as we took in a white-washed church on the lake’s bank (so picturesque and pretty), little bridges that spanned the river and under which we steered ahead. It is these priceless scenes that will stay with me forever when I think of my travels in Kerala.

And then, before we knew it, our four hours were up and Ajish was steering us back to our original mooring. We thanked him very much for being a great sailor as well as for looking after all our needs during lunch and after. We made payment to him and reconnected with Shiju who was waiting on the river bank to pick us up. It has been a tremendous cultural experience and we had enjoyed it fully.

Settling in our Heritage House B and B:

It was with some difficulty that we found our next place of accommodation. This was the Kodianthara Heritage House Bed and Breakfast or Home Stay which belonged to a man named Crispin Kodianthara who had communicated with me by phone throughout to guide us to his dwelling. He gave our driver Shiju the directions (in Malayalam, which we do not speak) on how to find his place (it was quite a production), but eventually, we did get there.

Kodiathara Heritage House B and B turned out to be a most delightful space. It is a 170 year old traditional Kerala home, built in the architectural style that is unique to this region, ie. it is built around a four-sided courtyard with bedrooms radiating from it. The house was clearly old as we could see as soon as we pulled up in the driveway and looked for the proprietor. A little boy named Zack was hanging around and when we told him we were looking for Crispin, he ran inside only to return, after a few minutes, to let us know that Crispin was changing his clothes and would be with us shortly. Little Zack turned out to be the grandson of Crispin (his daughter Mithila’s son) and he was the most delightful companion and friend over our next two days. Zack had a little bother named Zane and between the two of them, they entertained us thoroughly. It turned out that they were visiting from Perth, WesternAustralia, where they normally live. They were on their winter school vacation with their mother who had grown up in this home. It was ancestral in every sense of the word.

When Crispin arrived, he told us that he was the seventh generation member of the Kodianthara family to live in this home. He is a very worthy custodian indeed and is proud of this abode and treats it with the utmost reverence. In course of time, we met his completely gracious and most graceful wife, Sony, who made us our daily breakfasts and chatted with us in the King’s English. It turned out that she had majored in English Literature in college (in Bangalore) and had been an Engllish teacher herself (as is her daughter. Mithila). Overall, this lovely family, representing three generations, were our companions and hosts for our two-day stay and I truly wish we could have stayed longer. What I was left with was the feeling that we were being welcomed and hosted in a real, genuine Keralite home—not in some cold, impersonal five-star hotel.

Our own accommodation was a separate two-bedroom, two-bathroom villa—we, of course, used just one bedroom and en suite bathroom. There was hot running water, air-conditioning and a very comfortable bed. That is basically all you needed to be happy while on vacation. Birds continued to sing outside in the many tall trees as this place is surrounded by acres and acres of privately owned plantations (banana, coconut, spices). There is a rivulet of the backwaters that flows right through this property and a pond in which visitors could swim. There is a dog and ducks and hens all of whom are domesticated for their eggs. It is the job of little Zack and Zane to feed the birds and collect their eggs each day and they take great pleasure in their domestic tasks.

Crispin suggested we take a bit of rest and then offered us the opportunity to have dinner in his private club—the Kottayam Club, which was about a twenty minute drive away. He told us that if we mentioned his name we’d be given entry (even though we are not members ourselves). He suggested this as a good place to have dinner. And that was what we resolved to do after we’d taken a refreshing nap and were ready for the next stage of our day.

Dinner at the Private Kottayam Club:

Lovers of Literature might recognize the name’ Kottayam’. It is the scenic setting of Arundhati Roy’s best-selling and Booker Prize winning novel, The God of Small Things. This is Meenachil river country and you will find the river weaving in and out of the roadways in this part of Kerala. As described in Roy’s novel, it is exceedingly evocative of nature and really quite stunningly beautiful indeed.

We drove to the Kottayam Club only to find that a very big and very noisy wedding was in progress. It was then that I put two and two together and made the proverbial ten! I began to suspect that my classmate Rachel (who had told me that she would be at the Kottayam Club this evening for a wedding) would actually be one of the guests here. I decided to investigate. So after we entered, past the richly-dressed guests who were sipping soft drinks and juices and nibbling on snacks at the entrance, and after our entry was cleared by the manager, we found ourselves walking towards the waterfront past a long stretch of very well-manicured green lawn. At the end of it, right by the water, we found tables and chairs where we sat down and made ourselves at home. Sunset had just occurred so that twilight was falling fast upon the water and the land. I left Llew at the table and went in search of someone who could connect me with Rachel and Joe, if they were indeed at the wedding.

And guess what? They were! I found a couple of ladies and when I introduced myself and told them that I was looking for Rachel and Joe, they told me to wait for a few minutes while they went out in search of my friends. Just five minuets later, Rachel emerged, looking just lovely in a grand, off-white, silk sari. We had a lovely reunion with her and Joe and she urged me to come inside for the pre-wedding reception as she was related to the bride. Of course, we firmly declined as we were not dressed for the occasion and everyone else was dressed to the hilt. Rachel and Joe came over to the table on the lawn to meet Llew and chat with him for a few minutes which is when we also took a few pictures. And then they left us as we would be seeing him again tomorrow as Rachel had invited us to Afternoon Tea at her place. There would be adequate time for a leisurely visit then.

Dinner on the Lawns of The Kottayam Club:

On the lawns of the Club, we made ourselves at home with drinks (frosty G&T for me and a red wine for Llew) together with substantial snacks (chicken samosas, crispy bhajias) before we ordered dinner: a green salad plus Kerala’s famous Roast Duck (which was, funnily enough, roasted and then served in a tick gravy—so that it appeared more like a curry than a roast) served with puttu: steamed rice and grated coconut molded in a bamboo so that it came to the table in long tubes. It as quite wonderful indeed and eaten under the stars with the soft swoosh of swaying coconut palms all around us, it was like eating in Paradise—or in God’s Own Country, as the ads say.

Overall, it had been a most memorable day; But we were grateful to return to the homely comforts of our heritage house and to make ourselves fully at home under the covers as we called a halt to the day and settled down for the night.

Until tomorrow, see ya’…

Day Six. Captivating Kerala. A Day Spent Sight-seeing in Fort Cochin

Wednesday, January 14, 2026:

A Day Spent Sight-seeing in Fort Cochin

Our full-day of sightseeing in Cochin began early as both of us were up by 7.00 am. We showered and got dressed and decided to go out for an early morning walk to the waterfront so as to see the Chinese Fishing Nets and the Fish Auction in action. In any case, breakfast at our B and B only began service at 8.30am. This gave us a good 45 minutes to explore on our own.

Visiting the Church of St. Francis:

As daily Mass was announced at 7.30 am at the historic Church of St. Francis, we decided to begin our walk in its direction as this would ensure that it was open and would enable us to peek inside. It was just a few minutes’ walk from our hotel. Already we could see Western white visitors on the streets, all struck by the same idea as ours—to get some sights in before the day progressed too far.

A large sign post in the church compound outside informed us that this was the first European church built in India. It dates back to 1500 (Vasco da Gama landed in Calicut from Portugal in 1498). It was built originally out of wood by the Franciscans but was later rebuilt in stone and roofed with tiles by 1516. It remained under Portuguese control until 1663 when the Dutch took it over and converted it into a Protestant Church. After the British took control of Cochin, it was declared an Anglican Church (in 1804) and after the exit of the British, it was then taken over by the Church of South India who continue to administer it.

In 1524, when Vasco da Gama died, he was first buried in this church. But once he was hailed as the great Father of Portuguese Colonization, his remains were transferred to the Monasterio de San Jeronimos in Belem, just outside of Lisbon in Portugal where I had been fortunate enough to see the grand marble mortuary monument under which he lies permanently at rest. The original gravestone that covered his grave in this church has been retained here and is now mounted on the wall just at the site where his remains once lay. There are also other Dutch grave monuments that date to the 1500s and 1600s and are scattered around the walls in the front of the church. Other more recent mortuary monuments (dating from the 1800s and the early 1900s) can be found all around the rest of the church.

It is quite a simple church really with a typical Anglican design. There are large stained glass windows and a beautiful teak timbered ceiling. But, by my reckoning, the most striking features are the old colonial punkah or canvas fans that hang along the sides of the church. They use an antiquated pulley system to keep them working manually—now, of course, there are electric ceiling fans—but it was quite evocative to me to imagine the use of the punkah during long church services in the sweltering heat of Cochin summers. After we surveyed the other features of the church (Baptismal font, ornamental lectern, etc), we left and walked towards the waterfront past Bastion House.

Exciting Activity at Cochin’s Waterfront:

We were right on time to see the Chinese fishing nets in action at the waterfront. These are found all over Cochin—a legacy, I believe, of Chinese fishermen who had once arrived on these shores and used these contraptions to survive. They are built on the concept of the pulley system with large round stones weighing down one side and rising up as the nets are lowered into the water. The nets are then pulled up as the weighed stones go down. When we were there, not much of a catch was to be found and after taking a few pictures, we walked towards the auction stands where the catch was being sold to the highest bidder. It was fun to see the process and even more fun to walk along the pathway to see the displays of fresh fish and shell fish that were quite attractively sorted and placed for sale to daily buyers. Fish does not get any fresher than this, I thought, as I took a few photographs.

Breakfast in our Hotel:

As our hotel tariff included breakfast, we found patrons seated at tables in the dining area as soon as we entered. Our manager asked if we’d like our eggs boiled, poached, scrambled, fried or in a plain or masala omelette. We opted for the last and it arrived with three slices of buttered toast and coffee. Indeed, it was a very filling breakfast and it fueled us well for the rest of the day. It was not long before we set off. Calling for an Uber to take us back to Jew Town as the first item on our agenda today was the tour of the Dutch Palace.

Visiting the Famous Dutch Palace of Mattancherry:

Dutch Palace is so-called because it was taken over by the Dutch after their conquest of Cochin. It had originally belonged to the princely rulers of Travancore, but the Dutch acquired it from them. It is a stucco and teak building with two major highlights. The teak timbered ceiling is beautifully carved and ornamental. These are evident is room after room and as they are beautifully polished and maintained, I simply could not stop taking pictures of them. The second huge highlight of this palace is a marvelous representation of the entire Ramayana, the Hindu ancient epic written in Sanskrit, created through frescoes on the walls. As you move from room to room, you are fully taken by the detail of these frescoes, done in mainly four colors: red, yellow, black and white. Many of them are in such a fine state of preservation that you would find it hard to believe that they are centuries old. While there is some deterioration, for the most part, it is just brilliant in its vividness.

Other than the ceiling and the frescoes, this building houses a museum that contains loads of memorabilia of the kings of Travancore—there are a series of portraits, oil-painted by local and British artists, as well as arms and armor, maps (created by Dutch cartographers that quite graphically portray the entire Malabar Coast), photographs, costumes and accessories of royalty as well as photographs of the British officials who took over the administration of the region at the time. It really was a most worthy visit because there is so much to see and all of it is quite well organized and really very cheap indeed (a ticket to visit costs a mere Rs. 5—just pennies literally). We also had lovely views of Jew Town and the back of the synagogue from the windows of the Palace as it was the rulers of Travancore who had first given the arriving Jews the space to build their synagogue on palace grounds. It was a fabulous first stop.

Off to See Jew Town and the Synagogue by Day:

It is only a short walk from the Dutch Palace to Jew Town and we made a quick bee line towards it. There is a large arching sign over the street that leads to Jew Town and today, with most of the Jewish community having left for Israel, their homes have been converted into housing for the non-Jewish population while the ground floor space has been converted into shops. En route, we stopped in a passage way that houses more shops and a little cafe to order a ginger-lemonade that was most refreshing.

By day, the shops were full of tourist merchandise and tourists too. Indeed, the place was crowded with tourists, mostly white, and many seemed to be European Jews. As we passed by the same shops we had seen by gas light last night, we were better able to admire the tourist produce inside. The cobbled street and the gas lamps continue to give the place a very antiquated look and as we moved towards the synagogue, we realized that it remains the biggest attraction in the area.

The Jewish Synagogue is the second oldest in India. It was built by the Baghdad Jews soon after they landed on Cochin’s shores. They were granted land close to the palace and the Shiva temple by the rajahs of Travancore and while it was once a most vigorous center of Jewish community life, today it is mostly a tourist site. We left our footwear outside and went pas the large Star of David in the courtyard to enter the synagogue which is hung over with colorful glass lantern lighting. The main Altar houses the Torah behind an embroidered curtain and the pulpit from which the rabbi addresses the congregation is also a prominent part of this structure. However, to my mind, the most remarkable part of this building is the flooring which is made entirely of blue and white tiles in the design that has come to be known as Delft (meaning, from Holland). However, these tiles turned out to be made in Canton, China, in the ancient past. And I also learned that the West in general and the Dutch in particular, learned to make these blue and white tiles from the Chinese. The floor is, surprisingly, not covered with carpets or rugs—the hundreds of people, who come into the place actually walk directly on them. I cannot even begin to imagine the very slow damage that is being done to them. In fact, apparently, when the late Queen Elizabeth II of England, visited the synagogue in 1965, she is said to have commented that it was a sin to walk upon so gorgeous a floor. I could fully commiserate with her feelings.

Having taken a slow spin around the room to take in the various visual details of it, we walked towards the exit—only to run into Bridget White Kumar, the cookbook author with whom we had made friends at breakfast yesterday. She too was on a visit to the synagogue, doing some sightseeing before returning to Bangalore where she lives.

Taking is some of the Art Biennale at Ishara House:

Walking out into the cool sunshine, we stopped for about half an hour to take in Ishara House—an old Jewish mansion that is an art gallery today. Since the Cochin Art Biennale was going on, this place is an important site and we decided to go in to see the exhibition of broken mirrors by an Italian artist called Michelangelo Pistoletti. There were two other artists whose work was also in the same house, but the series of rooms at the back housed an exhibition about the people of Gaza, their recent suffering and their tenacity in the face of war and persecution. It would have been easy to spend much more time in this one site, but we were keen to take in a few more as long as we were able to see something of the Art Biennale. But first, we decided to stop for a ferry ride.

A Water Taxi Ride to Wellington Island and Back:

Our relatives had told us yesterday that Mattancherry, the area is that covered by these tourists sites, is the only place in India that can boast a water taxi or water metro service—this is a ferry that travels across the river going from one bank to the next. They suggested we take a ride on it to go from Mattancherry station to Wellington Island station, across the river. And since we were keen on checking it out, we took their counsel.

Accordingly, we walked to the ferry terminal at Mattancherry and bought our tickets for just Rs. 30 each (per ride). We had a half hour wait in the terminal which was spotlessly clean, superbly lit and well planned. We were also able to use spotless rest rooms here. So, in every way, this was a great rest stop for us.

When the ferry arrived, we piled into it, only to find that there were very few people on it. It is a small vessel but very well manned. It was only a fifteen minute crossing but it was lovely to see the port of Cochin ahead of us with a cruise ship actually docked in it as Cochin is a popular cruise stop on international cruises between Dubai and the Far East.

Once on Wellington Island, we discovered that there was, in fact, not too much to do. We did not realize that there were a couple of art installations right outside the ferry terminal there—had we known this, we could have used our time waiting for the return ferry to Mattancherry, to go and check out these exhibits too. Instead, we sat waiting for another half hour for the return ferry to take us back to Mattancherry. The ferry ride back and forth was a cool opportunity to say that we had been on India’s only water taxi and found it to be super impressive.

This item ticked off our To Do List, we hailed an Uber that took us to the other side of Fort Cochin. By this point, we were feeling a bit peckish and were all set for lunch. In about fifteen minutes, we were at the Santa Cruz Basilica where we alighted and looked on Google for the place where we’d eat lunch.

Visiting the Basilica of Santa Cruz:

However, when passing by the main gate of the Basilica, we found it open and decided to nip inside for a swift visit. Who knows when it would close again and we did not want to lose the chance to see it. So in we went.

After St. Francis Church, the Santa Cruz Basilica is the most visited church in Cochin—it is also a Catholic church and so attracts a large crowd. The church is quite striking visually as it has lovely ornamental ironwork on the iron posts that hold up the upper tier. It also has arresting paintings in the Renaissance style by the Italian Jesuit Antonio Moscheni and these can be seen as soon as you enter the church on the two chapels on each side. We made a prayerful visit and moved on as we were starving by this time and lunch beckoned.

Lunch at Fusion Bay Restaurant:

It was Menaka who had recommended Fusion Bay Restaurant as a good place to have typically Keralite food and, going by her advice, we used Google maps to find that the place was only a few meters from the Basilica. Inside, we found it to be a really small place with only a few tables and covers. It was rather late and that explained why we were seated immediately.

The menu was indeed quite varied with Indian and Continental delicacies. We ordered the Duck Roast as I was very keen to try it—it is also one of the specialities of Syrian Christian Kerala. Sadly, it was all finished by the time we ordered it. We had no option but to settle for Prawn Curry and Chicken Stew which we ate with appams. Of course, as in the case of every meal we had eaten in this state, it was grand. There was really nothing to complain about. Service was good and attentive and the people are generally very kind and mild-mannered and eager to please. We finished our delectable meal, used the rest room again and decided to nip over to the Gelato place called Gelato Pillai that was actually right across the road. And there, in the cool, air-conditioned comfort of an ice-cream parlor, we ordered peanut butter, Alphonso mango and chocolate gelato—yes, we were able to sample three different scoops and they were all really good. It gave us a chance to take another seated break as we would be spending the rest of the afternoon on our feet as we perused the offerings of the Cochin Art Biennale.

Sampling the Offerings of the Cochin Art Biennale:

Cochin Biennale is now so well-known that it attracts artists and art-lovers from all over India for a a month of browsing and perusing of interesting art works from India and around the world. There are many venues—about12 scattered all over Cochin, with many of them in Fort Cochin itself. There are two venues that present the works of multiple artists—Aspinwall House and Pepper House. And so we made a bee line for Aspinwall House first.

bought our tickets at the ticket counter outside Aspinwall House (Rs. 100 for each of us for the entire day and valid at all the venues). As soon as I entered the main gate of Aspinwall, I remembered immediately that I had been here before and seen the Biennale a few years ago. Aspinwall House is also architecturally very interesting as it is one of those old colonial offices-cum-warehouses that were very much involved in the colonial Tea trade. Cochin was one of the most prosperous of the South Indian ports as it did business with various parts of the world. The beautifully laid out buildings that make up this complex still bear signs of the commercial activity of that period although the structures themselves are pure white, punctuated with balconies, a second story that offers another large balcony overlooking the river and rooms in which the artists’ offerings can be shown off at full advantage. We perused all of the work and found most of it to be highly avant-garde. So esoteric were most of the art exhibitions and installations and so huge the variety of media being used that I have to say I did not respond or connect with very many of them. Still, it was good to be able to see what modern Indian artists are doing and how they were able to interpret the venue and theme of the exhibition which this year is “For the Time Being”. This can be interpreted variously, of course, but in its simplest form it means that by the end of the one-month show, the original and initial exhibits could have changed completely.

After Aspinwall House, we walked for about fifteen minutes to get to Pepper House. As its name implies, it is a similar (if much smaller complex) that was once active in the trade—this time pepper and other spices. It is constructed around a verdant courtyard and here too, the visitor goes from one room to the next trying to figure out what each of the artists is trying to say. Messages were mixed like the media they used and the curatorial notes were very helpful in allowing us to interpret what was being portrayed This building took us about half an hour to go through as we really did not stop for too long anywhere. There was one more exhibition I was keen to see and that was a bit distant—the last exhibition of the famous Indian artist Vivaan Sundaram. Since the show closed at 7.00pm, we needed to hurry to catch his show too.

Another Uber took us to the Cube Art Space where we then spent the next half hour in the company of the late artist Vivaan Sundaram. This exhibition has been curated and created for one of the cities of the Middle East (Qatar, I believe) and it was from there that it had traveled to be presented here. It was a sample of the last work that he had done—and it contained photographs of his own surgery performed upon his own body by a group of surgeons after he was diagnosed with a terminal illness. It also featured paintings and sculpture and as one moved from one room to the next, you had absolutely no idea what awaited you. It was, to my mind, rather gruesome and I must admit I did not enjoy the experience at all.

This Cube Art Space also contained the work of other artists—so, on the whole, we saw the work of at least fifty artists in the space of a single afternoon. Needless to say, we were well and truly exhausted by the end of the day as we’d started super early and had covered a great deal of ground. We were so ready to return to our rooms for a rest, a drink and then a thought about where we would eat dinner.

Dinner at Kashi Restaurant:

We called an Uber and in about fifteen minutes, were back in the comfort of our room in our hotel. It was time for a nice cup of coffee which we brewed and, a little later, for a drink and a nibble on banana chips and nuts. While relaxing, we looked for a good place to eat nearby as we were too beat to go too far away. We found a place called Kashi, that was literally on the next street, raved about on Trip Advisor and that was where we chose to eat.

We were disappointed. In deed, it was the only meal on our entire trip that we really disliked. First of all, I was hoping to find an enclosed AC-ed space, only to find that it was located in an open-air garden, as it were, with just a make shift canopy covering the top. The place was ridden with mosquitoes which made seating very uncomfortable. It specialized in Continental food and we decided to take a break from typical Keralite food to eat something more familiar. We chose to have the Beef Sizzler as we both love sizzlers and as beef is not available in Maharashtra. Well, we were sorely disappointed. Portion-size was small compared to all other sizzlers we’ve ever ordered. Normally, it makes a very substantial meal for two as it comes with the protein of choice and a host of grilled vegetables plus potatoes (either chipped or mashed). We asked for our steak to be done medium-rare but it was more like rare and the center was barely cooked at all—not very pleasant eating. The accompaniments were very sparse—yes, there were mashed potatoes but the portion size was much smaller than usual. Other veg hardly filled the spot. The dish was accompanied by a mushroom-mustard sauce which happened to be absolutely tasteless—no flavor at all—neither of mushrooms nor of mustard. Just a bland off-white disappointing sludge. I asked for mustard to be brought in a little cup for me and this made the steak palatable. We asked for barbecue sauce or steak sauce and there was none available. Overall, a thoroughly disheartening experience. Oh well…service was good, but it was with relief that we paid the bill and returned to ur hotel. I guess the moral of the story is ‘when in Kerala, eat Keralite food’.

And on that somewhat dreary note, we walked for about five minutes to return to our hotel and bed down for the night for a much-deserved rest after what had been a truly stimulating day.

Until tomorrow, see ya’…