My Honeymoon in Kerala

The week prior was too hectic and too hazy to remember; the only memory left behind was that I was now a married man. A constant reminder of my altered marital status was a mild backache - a consequence of constant bows and attempts to seek blessings at the feet of elders who had gathered to attend my wedding in Hubli on December 15.

It was now time to relax and enjoy my honeymoon and hence I was on my way to Idukki, a district in Kerala. My destination was Greenberg Resort for a six-day-seven-night stay. I had never stayed in a resort, and the nearest I came to making a decision on this was when I had looked at the brochure of another lovely resort and dreaming of a perfect holiday but was woken up from my day dream by the sight of the price tag attached for the holiday.

Observation

Nevertheless, I had got a good bargain, and hence proceeded to go to Greenberg Resort in Kulamavu. I got down at Ernakulam Town and was picked up by a taxi hired by the resort. I felt the first pinch when I parted with Rs. 1,400 just for that 80-km trip to the resort. As we drove towards the resort, I was wonder struck by two observations: the lush green cover along the road margins and the humble veshtti being the uniform choice of garments worn by men.

As the taxi began climbing the hills towards our destination, I was awe-struck at the breath-taking view below us. As the taxi snaked through the S-bend roads across the mountains, we could feel the temperature drop. Flowers of varying hues adorned both sides of the roads, even as the taxi zipped past these sights at break-neck speed. So sharp were the road bends that Mangal and I found ourselves sliding back and forth on the backseat of the vehicle like kids stuck on a mechanized seesaw.

We finally reached the resort at 11 30 am, tired and hungry. At nearly 2,500 ft above sea level, it was cold and our ears felt like they had been plugged with cement. We hogged like pigs and slept like dogs the entire day. We woke up the next day to “take a look” at the place. The sight was phenomenal, with a little pond in the middle and pretty little cottages that surrounded the place. Most of the staff couldn’t understand Hindi, Tamil or English but somehow managed to deliver what I required at the right time and the right place.

Minor disappointments

However, there were minor disappointments in store for me: like when I switched on the TV, I found two Malayalam movie channels and one more news channel that faithfully kept repeating yesterday’s news in Malayalam. My phone didn’t work either, as Airtel had no coverage in that region and, hence, had to bother the hotel phone operator, who gleefully charged Rs 20 per call, regardless of the duration of the call.

In less than three days we had gone on a boat ride on Cheruthoni river, a major tributary of Periyar river, visited three dams: Cheruthoni, Kulamavu and Idukki (after paying a bribe to the policemen guarding the dams); an elephant ride that cost Rs 250 per head, and a boat ride on the Periyar.

Not surprisingly, I had a brush with an angry goose, a wild monkey and a confused Frenchwoman. The first one was at the resort that had a couple of geese that were let out for a few hours in the morning.

Wild goose chase

For a change, it was Mangal’s attire (blue top and pink skirt) that probably “got its goose”. The normally docile geese began making hostile postures and one of them began to swagger towards us with wings flapping and neck craning in the front. Mangal recoiled and ran towards me, seeking assistance. I stood for a minute before I saw him advancing towards me. Fear gave wings and I yanked her off her feet before fleeing to safety.

Monkeying around

In the second instance, during our visit to the Periyar Lake, as we stood waiting for the boat ride, we were accosted by a nasty monkey at the drinking water point. He sat calmly not taking much notice of people until I advanced to quench my thirst from the tap. I was brave until the fellow showed his lovely yellow pearls. For the second time in less than three days I fled, forgetting my thirst and my ego.

French connection

This incident happened while I waited patiently for an hour or so to sit atop an elephant. The fee was stiff, Rs 250 per person to sit on top of an elephant that appeared bored with life and with us. Mangal was in a skirt and hence preferred to sit with both her legs to one side while I and a French woman sat in the front.

She managed to strike a conversation with her limited knowledge of English. It went something like this: My name is Jonna (something too long to remember). Owi, we in Kerala… first time…my daughter … big MNC…. Bangalore…management…two years. Great I thought I introduced myself, what’s your name I asked. The answer was typical: Oh (something in French). Name me…. Jonna.. My daughter in … big MNC….Bangalore…management… two years.

For the next 20 minutes we had a conversation on a range of topics; overpopulation; bad roads; fleecing and tourism (at least that’s what I did); she spoke in French while I conversed in English; each perfectly aware that neither understood the other, while Mangal sat laughing herself silly.

What we did those six days and what we saw and felt is now safely relegated in our memory. But the experience of being in God’s Own Country was truly exhilarating. An enchanting experience that we are never likely to forget till life’s end.