A journey through Munnar, Thekkady, Alleppey, and Kochi

After attending the Arhatic Yoga Retreat conducted by the World Pranic Healing School in Calicut, I journeyed into the lush, emerald landscapes of Kerala—God’s Own Country. My first destination was the enchanting hill station of Munnar, a place that seemed plucked out of a dream.

Nestled among rolling hills and blanketed by sprawling tea plantations established in the 19th century, Munnar was refreshingly cool and serene. The air was crisp with the scent of eucalyptus and fresh tea leaves. The region is home to the Eravikulam National Park, a protected habitat for the endangered Nilgiri Tahr, a mountain goat species unique to this area. For nature lovers and adventure seekers, several hiking trails lead to Anamudi Peak, the highest point in South India at 2,695 metres, offering breathtaking panoramic views, as well as the Lakham Waterfalls, cascading gracefully in the heart of nature.

Everywhere I turned, there were endless viewpoints and undisturbed natural beauty. The hills looked like soft green velvet, gently rising and falling like waves, calming to the eyes and soul. My resort was located near the Anayirankal Dam, surrounded by manicured tea gardens. The tranquil lake, embraced by misty hills and dense foliage, presented a postcard-perfect scene that stayed etched in our hearts.

At dawn the next day, I drove to Kolukkumalai Sunrise Viewpoint, perched at the Kerala–Tamil Nadu border. As the first light of day pierced through the horizon, a golden hue spread across the mist-covered peaks. It was like witnessing magic unfold—a silent, powerful moment that stirred something deep within. The distinction between Tamil Nadu and Kerala was striking, particularly in the contrast of vegetation. Kerala’s landscape was lusher, more layered with ferns, palms, and tropical richness.The rest of the day was spent visiting tea gardens, tea farms, and quaint tea houses. I strolled through lush estates, sipping on fresh brews and learning about the intricate process of tea production.

The peaceful lake near our resort shimmered under the afternoon sun, offering quiet reflection. I spent two nights in Munnar.
The following morning, I left for Thekkady, a destination rich in biodiversity. The drive itself was an adventure; I passed through dense forests, spotting numerous treehouses perched on tall trunks, looking like little wooden nests suspended in the green canopy.

Upon reaching Periyar National Park, we boarded a large steamer for a boat safari on the serene Periyar Lake. The scene was surreal—skeletal branches of trees jutted out of the lake’s surface like ancient sentinels, long dead but still standing. I remembered the Bollywood movie Ijaazat starring Naseeruddin Shah and Rekha, in which there was a song by Gulzar—“Katra Katra Jeene De”; I realized it was shot at this lake with a backdrop of the tree trunks standing out of the water, specifically the one on which Rekha was sitting on a branch and singing while Naseeruddin was swinging on a hammock tied to two trunks in the lake. I spotted a variety of bird species, each more vibrant than the last, and soaked in the pristine silence of the forest. The park, renowned for its diverse flora and fauna, is surrounded by spice plantations, particularly cardamom, pepper, cinnamon, and, of course, tea. It also houses a tiger reserve and is home to a healthy population of wild elephants, roaming freely in their natural habitat.After a day immersed in the wild, I continued onward to Alleppey, a town kissed by the Laccadive Sea and famed for its ethereal backwaters—a unique labyrinth of canals, lagoons, and lakes that define Kerala’s soul.

At Alleppey, I checked into a charming houseboat, a traditional kettuvallam redesigned with modern comforts. My boat gently cruised through the serene backwaters of Kuttanad, Kuppappuram, and Pallathuruthy. Along the way, we passed endless stretches of paddy fields, quaint village homes, and mangrove forests. Life here moved at an unhurried pace—children waved from the banks, fishermen cast their nets, and birds glided gracefully above me. I enjoyed meandering through the mangrove forest—bushy trees standing strong, half immersed in water.

Meals onboard were a cultural delight—freshly prepared Kerala-style dishes served on banana leaves, bursting with flavour and authenticity. As twilight descended, the houseboat anchored under a starlit sky, and the atmosphere turned mystic and thrilling, wrapped in the whispers of water and wind. I learned about the famous Punnamada Lake, where the world-renowned Snake Boat Race is held—a spectacle of strength, rhythm, and team spirit that reflects the cultural heartbeat of Alleppey.

My final stop was the historical city of Cochin (Kochi), a port city that has been a melting pot of cultures since 1341, when its harbor first opened to Arab, Chinese, and European traders. As I wandered through Fort Kochi, I was transported back in time. I admired elegant colonial bungalows, watched fishermen operate the iconic cantilevered Chinese fishing nets, and visited ancient mosques, museums, and heritage buildings that told tales of a rich, cosmopolitan past.

A funny incident happened here. My flight was late the next day. Having the day free and nothing much to do, I randomly walked to the auto-rickshaw stand and called for one to take me around the city. My hair was coloured brown; I was wearing an Indo-Western gown with leather boots. The driver took me to see the Chinese fishing nets, drove past some remarkable architectural buildings, and then pointed out—“This is India Banana Tree; these are Indian bananas hanging!” Then he took me to a chilli factory where women were processing red chillies. The driver took me inside and said, “These are Indian chillies, very hot and spicy—you can’t have them; your mouth will burn!” All this while I was talking to him in English, since he was doing so, but then I replied to him in Hindi.

“I cook recipes with red chilli and other masalas (spices).” He stood like a statue, stunned. He said, “You are not a Mexican??”

No.

“Oh my God; all this while I thought you were Mexican. You look like a foreigner; you speak like a foreigner. How would I know!”
We had a great laugh the rest of our tour.

Kerala gifted me more than just scenic memories—it offered a deep, abiding sense of serenity and inner stillness. It was a place where nature, culture, and soul flowed seamlessly together, leaving behind a peaceful calmness that lingered long after the journey ended.

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