Showing posts with label India-Kerala. Show all posts
Showing posts with label India-Kerala. Show all posts

Wednesday, 18 June 2025

Nagarhole - Yet Another Attempt to see a Tiger: Kerala and More Part 4

This is a new post, though it covers the events of the Ist and 2nd of March 2024
It will bee moved to its appropriate chronological position soon

Yet Another Attempt to See a Tiger

01-Mar-2024

So Where Exactly are We Going?


India
Kerala
We had enjoyed our day in the port city of Kozhikode (formerly Calicut), even though the combination of heat and high humidity made it hard work. Next day, we headed inland, climbing up the Western Ghats, the long, if intermittent range of hills (and sometimes mountains) that follows the line of the coast for 1,600 km. The temperature changed little, but the humidity was lower and there was even an occasional cooling breeze.

Our destination was the Kabini Jungle Lodge in the Nagarhole National Park, a journey of 140 km that was expected to take 4 hours. Indian roads do not make for speedy travelling.

Southern India

Kozhikode to Kabini

Breakfast at Kozhikode

Before leaving we had an early breakfast at Harivihar, our quiet vegan retreat in bustling Kozhikode. I am not ready to commit to being a full-time vegan (or even a vegetarian), but I would eat a meal like our dinners and breakfasts here any day (just not, perhaps, every day). Breakfast was multi-faceted, but here is a picture of a fried puri with spiced vegetables.

Puri and spiced vegetables, Harivihar

You know you are in Kerala when frying is in coconut oil, mustard seeds dot the vegetables and fried curry leaves are abundant – though they are as invisible in this picture as the coconut oil.

On the Road

The journey through small towns and up into the hills was interesting. The road was not as steep and the bends as tight as some we have seen, but they claim there are nine hairpins.

A modest hairpin on the way up from Kozhikode - all vehicles on the correct side of the road

Once on the plateau we were in the Wayanad district of Kerala, and Wayanad is tea (and coffee) country. The Chellotte Estate on the edge of Chundale is typical, tea bushes fitting together like crazy paving and wind breaks of silver oaks.

Chellottoe Tea Estate, Chundale

Chundale (at least half of its name must have been inherited from the British Raj) was halfway through our journey in distance, but more than that time. We stopped at a clean, smart café where we were charged all of 20 rupees (20p) for a small but excellent coffee.

Some 30 minutes later we reached Panamaram. Built in 2013, Panamaram’s church of St Jude with its exuberant modern style and abundant straight lines is typical of the area.

St Jude's Panamaram (and telephone cables)

Kerala has more Christians (6 million, almost 20% of the population) than any other Indian state. According to tradition, Kerala was evangelised by the apostle St Thomas and an ancient but thriving group of churches influenced by Syriac (Aramaic) language and theology are known collectively as the Syriac Christians. This umbrella covers several denominations, some Eastern Orthodox, some owing allegiance to the Roman Catholic Church and others independent.

St Jude’s, Panamaram is as Syro-Malabar Church, a denomination in full communion with the Roman Catholic Church.

Into Karnataka


Karnataka
20 Km beyond Panamaram we crossed from Kerala into the state of Karnataka. Indian states are comparable in size to US states; Kerala is relatively small - a little larger than Maryland but has a similar population to California. Karnataka and Tamil Nadu, the other southern states we will visit on this journey, are between 3 and 4 times bigger than Kerala and have populations of 70 and 82 million respectively.

India has an abundance of people (1.4bn, having suprassed China as the world's most populous nation in April 2023) and an abundance of languages. Each of the three southern states has its own language, Malayalam in Kerala, Kannada in Karnataka and Tamil in Tamil Nadu, and each language has its own alphabet. These are Dravidian languages, unrelated to the languages of northern India, like Hindi and Gujarati, which are of the Indo-European family.

Across the Park

Indian national parks do not usually have public roads across them, but Nagarhole is an exception. We were stopped at the park entrance to be given instructions – basically no stopping, no littering,

It takes 20 mins to cross this neck of the park, mostly through Kakanakote Forest, though some areas are more wooded than others.

Kakanakote Forest, Nagarhole National Park

There were forest dwellers here long before the National Park was created in 1988. Most were from a tribal group known as the Jenu Kuruba - Jenu meaning ‘honey’ and Kuruba ‘forest dweller.’ They lived by small scale agriculture, fishing, hunting, and gathering roots, tubers, berries and, most importantly, honey.

Jenu Karuba dwellings, Nagarhole National Park

There are today 37,000 Jenu Kuruba speaking their own language which may or may not be a dialect of Kannada (authorities differ.) They have been ‘encouraged’ to leave the park and most now live in extreme poverty in 80 or so villages around the perimeter, eking out a living as agricultural day labourers. 2-3,000 still live their traditional lives within the park. The politics around this issue is hotly debated, and I would be foolish to venture an opinion.

To the Kabini Jungle Lodge

Beyond the park it was a short drive to the Kabini Jungle Lodge. The ground was more open here and the nearby Lake Kabini encouraged the presence of wading birds.

Pond Heron, near Kabini

There were also agricultural villages….

Agricultural village near Kabini

…and domesticated cattle.

Cow, Kabini

In overwhelmingly Hindu Karnataka, cow slaughter is illegal. Cows can, though, provide dairy products while oxen are used as draft animals. Painting the horns is an easy way to mark ownership when herds graze together.

Arrivial at Kabini Jungle Lodge

We stayed in Kabini in 2016. It seemed to have grown since and lost some of its personal touch, but they showed us to a new, clean, spacious ‘Maharaja Bungalow.’ A real Maharaja might have found something to complain about, but we liked it. A buffet lunch was available for all residents and as Nagarhole has a largely Indian clientele the food was much better than at lodges catering for perceived European tastes (see Ranthambhore). In 2016 they had a full bar, sadly that appeared to have disappeared.

Safari (1)

We presented ourselves for complimentary coffee and biscuits at 3.00 and then made our way to the long line of jeeps and buses. There are several places to stay locally but all land and boat safaris depart from Kabini, so the crowd was large and apparently chaotic. Fortunately, we have been here before and know that somewhere there is the Man with the Clipboard who knows everything. We found him, and were soon in our designated jeep and ready to go.

At Nagarhole and ready to go

Our first attempt to see a Tiger was here in 2010, just months before I started blogging. We enjoyed a pre-dusk safari on the lake, and a post-dawn safari in the woods. Our second attempt in 2016 was also here and followed the same pattern (see Kabini & the Nagarhole National Park). We saw elephants, monkeys, squirrels, mongooses, deer, a variety of interesting birds, and a fearsome crocodile or two, but all we saw of tigers was a paw print in the dust. In 2018 we visited Ranthambhore (link above) in Rajasthan, a reserve renowned for its high tiger-spotting success rate. In two trips, our highlight was a distant view of a leopard, while everyone else back in the hotel swapped stories of tigers and sloth bears (and I am not sure what they are!). Now we were back at Nagarhole for two more attempts.

We looked cheerful enough in the photo, but I was unconvinced that tigers are afternoon people. We set out around 3.30 and were scheduled back just before the sunset three hours later – there is little seasonal variation in sunset times this far south. The warmth of the day lingers and tigers, I think, prefer the cool of the morning.

We saw spotted deer - they are always abundant. The larger sambar deer, tigers' main prey, seemed to have taken the day off.

Spotted deer, Nagarhole Tiger Reserve

Gaur were grazing down by the lake – they became the world's largest bovid when the aurochs went extinct in 1627. Though locally plentiful they are considered vulnerable, with a little over 20,000 adult individuals, mostly in India.

Gaur, Nagarhole Tiger Reserve

Elephants like to come down to the lake as well.

Elephants, Nagarhole Tiger Reserve
The photo shows two adults and a juvenile not an eight-legged elephant

We saw no mongoose this time, but there was a wild pig (though no photograph.)

Back in the woods we spotted a Malabar giant squirrel…

Malabar giant squirrel, Nagarhole tiger reserve

….and there are always black faced langurs.

Black-faced langur, Nagarhole Tiger Reserve

The langurs are important for finding tigers. They are vulnerable on the ground as a tiger snack, but there is always a look-out up a tree to give a warning bark. The urgency and frequency of repetition are a guide to the tiger’s proximity and whether it is hunting, walking or sleeping. We heard no langur alarm calls the whole time we were out.

Overall, it was a disappointing afternoon and as tomorrow morning’s safari would be on the lake with little chance of glimpsing a tiger, I was glad we had booked two more attempts at nearby Bandipur.

Arranging Tomorrow and Re-Arranging Tonight

The Man with the Clipboard met us off the jeep. ‘What do you want to do tomorrow?’ he asked. I hesitated briefly, not realising we had a choice. ‘I hear you have had bad luck with tigers,’ he continued, ‘if you really want to see one, a jeep would be best.’ Somebody must have spoken to him on our behalf, which was pleasing, though we had not asked for special treatment. We had enjoyed previous ‘boat safaris,’ but tigers took precedence, so we thanked him and said ‘Jeep.’

Before dinner, we placed our valuables, phones and camera in the room safe. I punched in our usual code and watched my finger make a mistake. I decided to open it immediately and start again, only I failed to open it – with all three permitted attempts.

We went for dinner; at lunch we had drunk water from copper cups tasting strongly of…well…copper and expected the same now, but a French couple on a nearby table had beer. Had they bought it here or had the foresight to bring it in from outside? I inquired in my fluent stumbling French. They directed me to the man who had provided their beer, and I requested two bottles. Drinking is forbidden for Muslims and discouraged among Hindus; whichever he was, he gave me the look of a man who would never put a thief in his mouth to steal his brains, before nodding reluctantly.

After longish wait a different man arrived with a single bottle. I reminded him I had ordered two. ‘One bottle per person’ he replied tersely. I might have moaned about silly rules, but my mind was too busy boggling at his inability to see two people at our table. Lynne often complains of sometimes feeling invisible in India. Indian ladies, of course, do not drink, and if they do, never in public, but louche westerners…. He reluctantly fetched a second bottle - shame they were both Budweiser.

Our brains remained unstollen and one of them suddenly realised we were going out at dawn tomorrow so the safe must be unlocked tonight, or we could not photograph our tiger – if, miraculously, we saw one.

After dinner I went to reception, explained the problem and the receptionist promised to send someone to solve it. A little later a man arrived at our bungalow carrying a broom, suggesting the receptionist and I had communicated less well than I had believed.

Faced with the safe and my inability to open it, Broom Man grasped the problem. He could not solve it, but he knew a man who could and phoned him immediately. His colleague was reluctant to reveal the secret, but even more reluctant to come out and solve it himself. Eventually he agreed to talk me through the process, and, to my relief, the safe sprang open. I promised him I would immediately forget his instructions and was as good as my word.

02-Mar-2024

Safari (2)

We were up and out at dawn and driving round the forest before the sun had got its act together.

Spotted deer at dawn, Nagarhole tiger reserve

I will spare you yet more photos of the usual suspects, but little else happened for the next hour or so…

Tiger?

Around 7.45 our driver had a radio message from one of his colleagues and suddenly our wanderings became more purposeful. After a short, swift (by National Park Standards) drive we parked up behind several other jeeps and a thirty-seater bus. Somewhere to our right a langur was barking a warning, and all eyes were fixed on the treeline.

We stared at the stationary trees and bushes, trying in vain to turn them into the moving stripes of a tiger.

Nothing to see here

I do not know how long we did this. It was not a new experience, in the past we have often given up after 20 minutes as the tiger, if it had ever been there, must have walked off in the wrong direction.

There was still no tiger, but there was, this time, a feeling of optimism I had not experienced before. It probably emanated from the drive and was shared, I imagine, by the other people in our jeep. Very likely the people in the bus and in other jeeps felt it, too.

Tiger!

And then there was a sound, and aah or maybe a murmur, something was happening, but I still could not see anything but trees, and then suddenly I could, already closer than I had expected…

Tiger, Nagarhole Tiger Reserve

…an adult female tiger was walking, with leisurely grace and latent power, not quite towards us, but certainly in our general direction.



She crossed the road in front of the bus, and strolled away on the other side, pausing once to turn and roll her eyes at all the humans sitting there in their noisy, smelly vehicles. Maybe she did not really roll her eyes, maybe I made that up.

Tiger is going now, Nagarhole Tiger Reserve

After a tiger, there is only anticlimax. Even termites lose their shine.

Termite accommodation, Nagarhole tiger reserve

We continued safari-ing until after 9.30, because that was the deal, but there was little to see, and I was beginning to want my breakfast.

And in due course that was what I got, a combination of spice, protein, carbohydrate and more spice. My favourites.

Breakfast at Nagarhole

And Finally...

At the fifth attempt, seventh if you include the lake safaris, we had seen our tiger. I was prepared for a beast that would be graceful and powerful, but I had never expected her to be so big - and males are even bigger. Job done, and I am glad we did it properly

Tiger

We then left Nagarhole and headed north into the next post….

Thursday, 29 February 2024

Kozhikode (Formerly Calicut): Kerala and More Part 3

A Mercantile City by the Sea

28-Feb-2024

Kochi to Kozhikode


India
Kerala
Our plan was to spend Thursday exploring the city of Kozhikode, so we had to spend Wednesday getting there from Kochi. Kerala is a long thin strip up the coast of south west India and the distance from one to the other is around 180km. The ride up the coast on Route 66 – yes, India has one, too – is the shortest route and takes 5¾ hours. The more inland route through Thrissur is 30km longer and 15 minutes quicker. Road travel in India is never fast, most roads have one lane in each direction, roadworks are common, few towns have by-passes and Kerala is heavily populated, 34 million people living at 890/km² (cf England 438/km², California 97/km²).

Kerala

Kochi’s metropolitan area has 2.1 million inhabitants,so leaving it takes some time, Sasi navigating through apparently endless suburbia…

Kochi's endless suburbs

… until we found a larger road - most roads have one lane each way, but not all! Dual carriageways present other problems. Flocks of motorbikes swoop around like starlings at dusk, and trucks, always in the outer lane, force overtaking cars to carve a path through the bikes flighty world.

A three lane road takes us out of Kochi

Beyond the city, Sasi stopped for coffee. He left us to it, and after ordering we were each brought a small shiny metal cup of coffee, sitting in a shiny metal bowl. As we discussed how to proceed, the manager strolled over, poured my coffee from the cup into the bowl, then from a great height, poured it back, twice. Keralan coffee is best aerated.

The bill was tiny. As ever, where tourists are rare, we were welcomed as guests and treated in a friendly and fair manner. In tourist hotspots we are faceless cyphers in an over-monied and often rude and overbearing crowd, just ripe for the fleecing.

Mandi Lunch

It was after two before we paused for lunch. Sasi was clearly looking for a particular restaurant as he drove up the outside lane inspecting the buildings on the opposite side. I think he failed but, finding a gap in the central reservation he, U-turned and drove 200 metres back to a restaurant he hoped would do. It seemed to be called Mandi. Who, I thought, is Mandy?

The lunchtime service had been busy and there were few available tables. Drivers customarily see their clients settled, then disappear but like many mid-range restaurants, Mandi had AC and non-AC seating, and the empty tables were in the non-air-conditioned area. Sasi hovered, leaving us in non-AC would mean he had, in his own eyes, failed us, though we would have happily eaten beneath one of the ceiling fans. Just as this seemed inevitable the AC area cleared out and he quickly shepherded us to a newly vacant table.

A waiter arrived and asked, in English, what we would like. ‘A menu’ seemed a reasonable request. He pointed his phone at the QR code on the table and showed me an English menu. It read – ‘Chicken Mandi, Mutton Mandi, Paneer Mandi…..’ Light dawned slowly. We were in a ‘mandi restaurant’ and ‘mandi’ was what they did. We had no idea what that was, but ordered two mutton mandi and waited to find out.

The Mandy arrived quickly, looking a lot like meals we had eaten in Oman which Yousef called ‘biriyani’ though maybe for our benefit (see Lunch in Sur in Sur and Turtles). Biryani-style rice was mixed with vegetables and topped with slabs of mutton apparently carved with an axe. No cutlery was on offer, so we washed our hands and got stuck in. It lacked the sophistication of its Omani sibling, but the fresh, well-spiced ingredients made a hearty meal. We would happily order it again.

Lynne and mutton mandi

Kerala, particularly Kozhikode, has had trading links with southern Arabia for millennia – it is only a trade wind away. More recently the area has supplied migrant workers to Oman and the Gulf states. Mandi is originally a Yemeni dish and returning migrants opened the first mandi restaurants in the early 2000s. After a slow growth it took off in 2018 and mandi restaurants are now all over the Kozhikode area.

Kozhikode

Harivihar

We reached the city around 5 o’clock. It has been officially called Kozhikode since independence in 1947 but under British rule it was Calicut, a Portuguese transliteration of the name used by Arab traders. The airport is still officially ‘Calicut International’ and the major university, Kerala’s largest, is the ‘University of Calicut.’ Maybe the locals say ‘Kozhikode’ to each other, but to us it was always Calicut. I will, however, stick with Kozhikode for this post.

With over 600,000 people the city is the heart of a metropolitan region of 3 million, but much of it is surprisingly green. Sasi found his way to an area northwest of the centre, where narrow lanes run between high walls protecting the privacy of large residences. A former royal manor-house built in 1850 by the Kadathanad royal family, once rulers of northern Kerala, now houses Harivihar, a ‘heritage homestay’ offering Ayurvedic and yoga treatments we would have no time for, and vegetarian meals.

Harivihar Wellness and Heritage Homestay

After checking in we took a pre-dinner stroll in the gardens, discovering the area around the pond was very popular with mosquitoes.

It would be an error to stand by this arch around dawn or dusk

At the appropriate time we presented ourselves for dinner and found we were the only guests. We had been warned that Harivihar served only vegetarian food, but in a country with a vegetarian majority, that is not unusual. This, however, was different. It was vegan rather than just vegetarian, much of the food was uncooked (though obviously not the rice), and spices and sauces were used with restraint. Everything was beautifully presented (pity we destroyed it before I took a photograph!) and we found the freshness and the occasional unusual flavours made an excellent and satisfying dinner.

It was a beautifully presented vegetarian meal when it arrived

29-Feb-2023

Breakfast at Harivihar

Breakfast was, of course, also vegan so no omelettes, but other South Indian breakfast treats were available, we had idlis with coconut chutney…

Idli with coconut chutney and sambar

… dosa...

Dosa, Harihvar

….and as much fresh fruit as we could eat. Some varieties of orange, as we discovered in Vietnam in 2012 (see Hue (1)) are green even when ripe, but this was the first time I had eaten one. Colour is skin deep, inside it is just an orange.

A green orange, Harihivar

Tali Shiva Temple and Student Police Cadets

Pleased with our vegan breakfast, we met up with Sasi and a local guide I shall call 'Mr Guide', partly because I have forgotten his name, and partly as a tribute to his sense of self-importance. Together we headed for central Kozhikode. Traffic never flows very freely here, but today, in and amongst the cars, there were dozens, possibly hundreds of young people in uniform. They seemed to be moving between a central building and a field where an event might be taking place later,

Taking great care not to drive over any of the youngsters, Sasi deposited us at the Tali Shiva Temple.

Tali Shiva Temple (the man leaving and the man on the left reclaiming his shoes are wearing mundu)

It does not look particularly old from this angle, but it was much improved by the local rulers in the 14th century and it was not new then. It was badly damaged during Tipu Sultan’s invasion in the 18th century (For more on Tipu Sultan, see the 2016 post Mysore, Somnathpur and Srirangapatnam) and underwent major restoration in 1964. Dedicated to Lord Shiva, its most treasured possession is a Swayambhu Lingam (self-manifested lingam) which ‘some believe’ (to quote the temple website) was installed by the legendary sage Parasurama. Parasurama, the 7th avatar of Lord Vishnu, is mentioned in the Ramayana, making him as historical as Achilles (though better heeled).

The dress code for men is dhoti or mundu without shirts. I removed my shirt to enter Suchindram Temple in Tamil Nadu in 2016, but mercifully stayed covered here as temples in Kerala are open to Hindus only. A mundu, the traditional male attire in Southern India, is a piece of cloth wrapped around the waist and often folded to knee length for convenience.

A side view of the temple entrance shows the typical Kerala design of long eves shading slatted windows.

Traditional Kerala eves and slatted windows, Tali Shiva Temple

Next to (almost) every temple is a large artificial pool, known as a tank. Across the tank is a gopura, these brightly painted towers are common in Tamil Nadi but almost unknown in Kerala.

Tali Shiva Tank and a small gopura

Along the bank were a series of carved representations of important events in Hinduism, or perhaps local history. Unfortunately, I am too ignorant of both to attempt any interpretation.

Man on palanquin, beside the tank Kozhikode

There was also a magnificent tree I identified as a rain tree. Mr Guide corrected me, it is a peepul or bodhi tree, the tree under which the Budha was meditating when he achieved enlightenment.

Peepul or Bhodi tree, Kozhikode

Girls in uniform were fluttering around here, too. They were members of the SPC – Student Police Cadets – an initiative aimed at 13–16-year-olds with the usual worthy aims of such organisations – promoting civic responsibility, social awareness and leadership skills among them.

Our pale faces stood out in the crowds around the tank and they soon noticed us, small groups pointing and daring each other. Eventually the bravest broke ranks, walked up to Lynne, held her nerve and asked if she could have a photograph with us. Being asked for a photograph is common where foreigners are rare and of course we always say yes. Mr Guide was appalled, ‘allow one,’ he warned us ‘and they will all come. I will shoo them away.’ No, you won’t Mr Guide. We have been photographed by many people in many places, including large school groups in the citadel of Kabaw in Libya and a rock temple in southern China. We do not have a tight schedule, or any schedue at all, and ten or fifteen minutes spent to promoting international goodwill is time well spent. There were a dozen or more groups in the end, all very polite and smiley - and we got a photograph, too.

Student Police Cadets, Kozhikode

Tasara Arts Festival

Mr Guide suggested we might like to visit the Tasara arts festival, taking place nearby. It is an international event, though the entrance was distinctly low-key.

There are no big signs, no arrows pointing the way, just this on the gate

The festival was mostly outdoors, around a large house, its balconies and patios used for display purposes.

Paintings on the Balconies and patios, Tasara Arts Festival

Individuals were also showing their own work, some of which I liked,…

Hanna from Sweden has painted what might be a brain
Tasara Arts festival

…. and some I failed to understand.

Valerie from France has tied some twigs together and....?
Tasara Arts Festival

Other, perhaps more established, had their own areas and exhibitions.

More traditional painting from MG Narayan, Tasara Arts Festival

We spoke to an artist whose work we admired,....

An artist whose work we admired, Tasara Arts Festival

... and I owe him an apology. I have no photogrpah of his work, and I have lost the piece of paper with his name on it. If he ever finds his way to this page (a long shot) he will, at least, have a nice photograph to show his mum.

He happened to be local, but the festival attracts artists from across India, the rest of Asia and a fair sprinkling of Europeans. The only other British voices we heard in Kozhikode were inside the house discussing textiles.

There were crafts as well as arts, spinning….

Spinning, Tasara Arts Festival

….weaving…

Weaving, Tasara Arts Festival

… and swinging – perhaps less a craft than a silly person playing?

Swinging, Tasara Arts Festival

Mopilla Mosques

The Mopilla are descendants of Arabian traders who settled on the northern part of the Kerala coast six or seven hundred years ago. Over the centuries they have largely integrated into Kerala’s eight million strong Muslim community, but remain notable for their mosques.

The Miskhal Mosque, one of the oldest and largest, was built in the 14th century by Nakhuda Miskhal, a Yemeni shipowner and merchant who had settled in Kozhikode.

Miskhal Mosque Kozhikode

It once had five stories, but now has four, after a violent confrontation with the Portuguese in 1510. Like all Mopilla Mosques it is constructed of wood above the ground floor, and has the pronounced eves and slatted windows typical of Kerala. Domes and minarets are conspicuous by their absence.

Miskhal Mosque, end view

Islam was born in Arabia and the architecture of most mosques worldwide reflects that origin. Mopilla mosques do not. We first saw Mopilla mosques here in 2010 (pre-blog). In the 2020 post Praying Facing West, part of my Variety of Mosques thread, they can be seen in the context of other Asian mosques.

Wholesale Coconuts

Although this was our second visit, Kozhikode sees few tourists and has few of the usual tourist attractions – but that does not mean it lacks interesting things to see.

Kerala is estimated to have 180-200 million coconut trees, averaging around 5,000 per km². Coconuts are essential to Keralan life, and we visited a coconut wholesaler, whose business spread into the street in a most Indian fashion.

Grading coconuts in the street, Kozhikode

These men are coconut graders. They take two coconuts from the pile, tap them together and then lob them into the appropriate baskets depending on size and sonority of tap.

Unhusked ‘tender coconuts’ harvested at 7-9 months are for drinking, these are mature coconuts harvested at 11 or 12 month and have had the husk and copra removed. The biggest with large kernels and high water content are premium grade. Slightly small and with lower water content are used for domestic consumption and oil production – coconut oil is essential to the cuisine of Kerala (see Cooking the Kerala Way). The smallest are often given to the gods. Offerings are an integral part of puja, the Hindu worship ritual, with flowers, incense and a coconut being a typical offering.

Inside are enough coconuts to keep the graders busy....

Plenty more coconuts inside

...and gangs of men packing sorted coconuts for onward transport. Inside the atmosphere is hot and dusty, some workers covering their faces with scarves. In an ideal world they would all have protective masks, but Indian health and safety awareness is in its infancy.

Packing the coconuts

Lighthouse and Marine Bungalow

Before heading for lunch, a short detour took us past two of Kozhikode’s ‘must sees,’ the lighthouse….

Kohzikode Lighthouse

….and, next door, the Port Marine Bungalow. Why?

Port Marine Bungalow, Kozhikode

Lunch

Mr Guide took us to a restaurant that was good enough to be regularly full and they had set out chairs in the street for those waiting. The young man next to me asked how old I was. Mr Guide leapt down his throat, telling him, rather sharply, it was very rude in our culture to ask a person’s age. But my chair was situated in the middle of his culture, so I told him I was 74 and asked how old he was. ‘26’ he replied, a little surprised. I told him I had been 26 once, which, as intended, he found more amusing than informative. The conversation might have progressed but a man arrived to tell us a table was available. Predictably, we ate a curry of some sort, which must have been pleasant enough, but failed to stick in my memory.

Calicut Cathedral

After a morning with the Hindus and lunch with the Muslims (Muslims run a disproportionately large number of restaurants) we next visited the Catholic Cathedral. Kerala’s religious make-up differs from the Indian norm where Hindus are 80% of the population, Muslims 14% and Christians head a long list of ‘others’ at 2.3%. Kerala is 55% Hindu, 25% Muslim and 20% Christian.

The Cathedral is a handsome building…

Catholic Cathedral, Kozhikode

…officially known, according to the plaque outside, as the Matri Dei Cathedral, Calicut, which mixes Latin and English and ends with the old name for Kozhikode, originally used by the Portuguese.

Vasco da Gama’s 1497 expedition was the first to round the Cape of Good Hope and he landed at Kozhikode in May 1498 giving Portuguese traders unimpeded access to the spices and other riches of the Malabar coast for a couple of centuries. The plaque records the first Cathedral being built by the Zamorin (King) of Calicut under the ‘supervision’ of two Jesuit priests. The 1724 extension were also the work of the Zamorin – supervised by a Portuguese Priest. There were no Zamorins by the time of the 2008 renovation, after which the cathedral was rededicated by the Bishop of Calicut.

Inside the cathedral, Kohzikode

Across the courtyard outside, is a catholic secondary school where Mr Guide had once been a pupil. I think it gave him part-ownership of the cathedral.

Archaeology Museum

It had been a long day, we were still jet-lagged, and although we usually adjust quickly to Indian temperatures, we were struggling with the 33° heat and high humidity – and Mr Guide was continuing to be opinionated and wrong. Although the museum was probably interesting, I was not interested, I wanted to sit down and have a cool drink. Mr Guide failed to realise he was losing his audience and insisted on describing every single exhibit. We listened politely, but the visit felt interminable.

Dinner at Harivihar

Eventually we escaped, Sasi drove is back to Harivihar and we said goodbye to Mr Guide. Later, dinner erased any lingering doubt, that a vegan meal can taste good and be completely satisfying.

Vegan dinner, Harivihar. I am not quite sure what it was, but it was good.

Again, I did not take a picture until too late, but do not really know what they did or what we ate, except that we liked it.

Kerala and More

Part 1: Cooking the Kerala Way
Part 2: Kochi: Not Really a Free Day
Part 3: Kozhikode (Formerly Calicut)

and much more to come