What has the holiday become?

“We now leave our homes with a touch of apprehension to shed the claustrophobia of apartment-living for wider spaces, greenery and peace,” writes Meera Ganapathi on a trip to Kayal Island Retreat.

Before the pandemic, the ‘traveller’ was a much-envied (and often-loathed) character chalking up a list of off-beat experiences to extract the most out of a trip anywhere. Many of our holidays had developed a pattern that was enthusiastically shared across social media. AirBnB reviews were dissected, sights were Googled and visited by priority, parks were napped in, shots of coffee were inhaled, museums were touched upon with some self-congratulation, restaurants were sourced for their authenticity and nights were ended at drinking holes. More often than not, we came away with memories, too many photographs and even a few friends. All that has changed in a virus-riddled world, where holidays (if we manage to go on them) have changed irrevocably.

But despite the lingering anxiety and uncertainty it seems to me that the breaks we take now have become far more meaningful than they used to be. With most places becoming inaccessible, holidays can’t pretend to be an impulsive indulgence. Infrequent, fraught with caution and carefully planned around e-passes and eases in infection rates and government restrictions, breaks are hard to come by and therefore, precious. Cooped-up in our homes through unending lockdowns and anxieties, taking a bold decision to go on a holiday isn’t meant to entertain us as much as it is meant to restore us. We now leave our homes with a touch of apprehension to shed the claustrophobia of apartment-living for wider spaces, greenery and assured peace.

Kayal Island Retreat is perfectly suited to the current predicament, inviting its visitors to cast-off the city with generously proffered tranquil. The usual Kerala tourism clichés of ‘coconut fronds’, ‘serene backwaters’ ‘spectacular sunsets’ etc. easily lend themselves to the island which is picture-postcard beautiful. But none of this does justice to the thoughtful restraint with which Maneesha has created Kayal. Despite the dramatic landscape that surrounds it, the resort is almost austere with just four well-appointed cottages. There has been no scramble to lure tourists- the space is what the surroundings allow it to be. Created with a minimalist aesthetic in mind, Maneesha and her architect have drawn inspiration from Kerala’s heritage homes while including elements of island culture in the art and design. And with attentive details in the unfussed décor, Kayal exudes a quiet elegance.

When Maneesha Panicker invited The Soup to Kayal, I was so unused to being outside the confines of my apartment, that I became keenly aware of my surroundings. Pandemic priorities being what they are, I found myself observing everything from, “hey the tables are in the open!”, “how nice, there are chairs by the water,” “what’s that crawling down my back?”, “wow, the bull-frogs sound like an orchestra,” to “is that the same thing as vendakkai pachidi?” Eventually Kayal Island turned out to be exactly the break I needed. Many months later, I still have distinct impressions of my days on the island, but what comes to mind first is always, the food.

A millennial cook and much morucurry

Vijayalakshmi the cook (pictured on the left) who lives on the island, a little distance away, comes every morning by boat with freshly washed hair and a big, lovely smile. I am told that she came as the replacement cook one day and stayed on ever since. Her beef fry is highly commended but I also loved the spicy-sweet subtlety of Vijayalakshmi’s pineapple morucurry, hot pazhampori perfect for suddenly stormy days on the island, freshly caught and fried karimeen- I could go on…

When we ask Vijaylakshmi if she’d like to be photographed, everyone is terribly amused including the cook herself. It turns out that pretty and talented as she is, Vijayalakshmi is very used to attention from guests and is photographed quite often. So much so, that when someone asked her for a photograph one day, she was quick to fix her hair and dab talcum powder on her face. However, it wasn’t her finest moment when she was handed a phone to click their picture. Shy or not, it’s easy to spot a millennial.

 But coming back to her lovely food, the fare at Kayal does not temper its flavours to suit Western pallets, instead there is obvious pride taken in serving local cuisine with fresh produce grown locally and fish caught by islanders. It won’t do to order food off a menu, instead, much like a holiday at your grandmother’s- you’re pleasantly surprised every day by something unexpected at breakfast, lunch and dinner.

A smattering of island history

Kakkathuruthu or Crow Island, is 110-years-old and the resort Kayal which means ‘backwaters’ was set up by Maneesha Panicker six years ago. 600 people live on the island today, some take boats to work off the island but most continue with the old ways of fishing and farming- changing their work by season. Although I didn’t get to see them, the island is home to a unique community of clam fisherwomen. These divers who are 70 and above, are a gang of tight girlfriends who fish and dive according to the whims of the tide and their own mood. They’re known to dive on moonlit nights when the water is still and there isn’t much activity to spook the fish. Many are widows and have been self-sufficient for years gaining succour and companionship from each other and are well-respected locally for not just their age but also their free, independent spirit. I really wish I could have seen them, but Kayal Island has been careful to create a space where local culture isn’t something for tourists gawk at. And if one must stumble upon a gang of 70-plus women diving into the backwaters, it must happen when the women wish to dive, or not at all.

Jimmy Kimmel and what-not-to-do at Kayal:

Before the pandemic the island hosted a variety of Indians and mostly foreign nationals who would drop in to unwind after a hectic tour of the country. Various authors, dignitaries and actors have graced the resort along with one Jimmy Kimmel. Keen to welcome this rather distinguished guest, Kayal was reserved in advance and prepped extensively to welcome Jimmy, only to find a strange woman breeze in. Apparently, Jimmy Kimmel is a name more common than one would imagine.

It must also be said that the island is hard to leave, we found ourselves extending our stay by two days. But while an extension is welcome, guests are advised not to weep and claim a past-life connection to the place and the owner’s mother–– when this happened once it didn’t go down too well.

Swimming in the backwaters at 3 AM is not advisable either as the islanders may be compelled to tie you up to a tree to put some sense in you, as this very nearly happened to one gregarious visitor from our nation’s capital.

 I would say however that if you plan to get a bit of writing done, or intend to work on a long overdue personal project Kayal is perfectly compatible. And here finally I have an excuse to use the words ‘serenity’ ‘restorative’ ‘gentle breezes’ ‘peace’ etc. together in one sentence to tell you, this is a great place to get work done.

Sunsets, walks, fish auctions, local music and boat-rides

Maneesha passionately speaks of ‘meaningful experiences’ at Kayal. This isn’t a space where you walk up to the manager and demand a gorgeous sunset. The island is better suited to the conscious traveler willing to soak in the charm it offers subject to changing seasons. A boat ride however is available on request, all-year-round and depending on the time of year, you could get caught in a storm (even storms manage to be compelling at Kayal), get drenched and walk through paddy fields barefoot across the island accompanied by Maneesha regaling you with local anecdotes. You could also take a quiet boat ride by yourself and watch the sun paint the sky anything from gaudy pink to a delicate shade of violet. An auto-ride around the coast is offered, if you’re curious about life off the island. As is a trip to a fish auction- which is not just a charming sight but also a glimpse into the functioning of the local economy.

A boat ride on a stormy evening

We spent four wholesome days on the island but my most memorable experience there was listening to the ferryman’s daughter, Anaha sing. A trained singer Anaha traversed seamlessly between classical and folk music in the five songs she chose to sing for us, one rainy evening. One such folk song brought alive the century-old rhythm of the paddy field, once sung by grandmothers to farmhands who harvested to the sound of its melody.

Anaha sings

In the days before the virus, after a holiday, I’d play a mental game where I’d try and recall each day of my trip, right down to what I ate. Despite my best efforts, images from the trip would eventually fade and only certain impressions would remain- most of them gathered from photographs. My memories from Kayal however, are still fresh in my mind. And I wonder if this is what holidays will become, not a scramble for souvenirs at the end of a journey, but a collection of meaningful experiences that stay with you. I’ve learnt by now that predicting anything in a pandemic is a waste of conjecture. What I do know with clarity, is that I will always remember Kayal in a 100-year-old song impossible to forget, much like the island itself.

Photographs by Himanshu Lakhwani, Bunuel PA, Anand Lalith Sethu.

For more information on Kayal visit: kayalislandretreat.com

Rooms start at INR 7,000 per night.