Discovering South India: Tamil Nadu and Kerala (page 2 of 8)

And my little cutie!



Yes, so adorable! 😊 From the first few days, I get the feeling that the south meets your expectations better. More authenticity, way less tourism, more interactions—am I wrong? 🤔 Thanks, Richard, for the story—I’m replying to Kate, but my question is for the both of you! 😄

From the very first days, I get the feeling that the south meets your expectations better. More authenticity, much less tourism, more interactions—am I wrong?

Hi Isabelle, Yeah, you’re absolutely right. Fewer prestigious sites than in the North with its palace-fortresses and mausoleums. Fewer tour operators... So fewer vendors selling everything and anything, fewer self-serving solicitations, less harassment. Right off the bat, the few connections we made with people felt more natural, more genuine. That impression only grew stronger as the trip went on. I’ll try to dig into the reasons at the end of my travel journal. Have a great Sunday!

(To: both of you)

A treasure trove of images that extends the gaze, a sensitive, attentive finger on the shutter. A literary pen, scholarly, drawing from memories and perhaps, this time, from a few notes jotted down on the fly.

Retracing the journey together in reverse, gliding across the page without stepping on each other’s toes. Picking an image, inserting it into the text... it will reignite the storyteller’s inspiration. Rereading the chapter just written, digging through your memory card... happily unearthing the perfect illustration of that very moment.

All those intense hours spent side by side complement and intertwine. Far from diminishing their qualities, the talents respond to each other, elevate each other... merging here into a delightful narrative. Friendship, encounters, gifts, exchanges... life is there, whispered, loud, colorful, tiny and vast.

Traveling together, a shared passion... going slower than alone but looking further in the same direction together? 🤪 (Huh? No, I didn’t mess up the classics!)

... but also, Maybe that’s what love is Sometimes we get it wrong Sometimes we get lost And sometimes we find each other

Richard is completely flustered! He doesn’t know what to say... Right now, he’s muttering to himself, buried in a cookbook, which is totally out of character—his culinary skills are abysmal, to say the least. 😏

I forgot to share some info about the train. We bought an e-ticket on the 12go Asia website from France. Nothing else to provide except our names (no phone number required). Pondy to Thanjavur, 240 km, 2904 rupees for the four of us, in Second AC. There’s only one train per week, on Sundays.

I'm jumping in a bit late too!

Kate got the idea to explore the small region of Chettinad while preparing our itinerary by reading Pagaljavab's travel journals on VF. And thanks to his valuable information, we were able to explore part of this territory effectively. Thanks to him!

I'm glad my travel journal could be useful because that's exactly why I wrote it. It's also why I still cling to the idea of writing one about my summer trip to Rajasthan someday. There have been quite a few about this region lately, so it can wait!

Your journal happily takes me back to my 2018 trip. I wrote this one almost in real-time, and members like Marien, Marco, and Ragga (I think) encouraged me to continue into Chettinad when it wasn’t originally planned. I hesitated, but I’m so glad I listened to their advice because this region is among my best Indian memories.

Like the previous one, your journal is a real pleasure to read. First, it’s extremely well-written, lively, and balanced between your experiences, encounters, and the photos that beautifully complement the story. After your first experience in Rajasthan, you seem more confident and less naive (I’m teasing you 😛), without losing that sense of wonder and curiosity (which we’ve probably all felt at some point) to unravel India’s mysteries. You’re already "regulars," ready to explore the country from north to south and east to west.

Choosing Tamil Nadu and Kerala was surely the most logical counterpoint to continue this discovery. I can’t wait to see where your third trip to India will take you—I’m sure there will be more! Maybe you already have some ideas?

After your first experience in Rajasthan, we can tell you're more confident and less naive (just teasing 😛), without losing that sense of wonder and desire (which we've probably all felt at some point) to unravel the mysteries of India.

Thanks Pagal for your friendly post. Your analysis is spot-on. We did feel more confident, less clumsy—like it often is when you meet someone for the second time. But the desire is still just as strong. I’ll stick with the love metaphor.... 😉

This reminds me that during my second (fittingly) trip to India in 2009, an Indian man used a very evocative romantic metaphor about India. I was in Delhi at Connaught Place, and he approached me to get me into a travel agency and sell me a trip to South India. I told him I didn’t need an agency to go anywhere and that I was actually heading to Kashmir. He replied: "India is like a woman. You want to go straight to the top, but you should start from the bottom and work your way up slowly."

I thought we might not exactly share the same customs 😄

I have a soft spot for the dog photo at the start of your travel journal. Actually, I love it. Great initiative. Still, I’m not the only one who noticed it, right?

Tricky question: did you feel less inspired for photos at the beginning of your trip (I’m thinking of all those people photographed from behind), and isn’t traveling with a group a disadvantage when it comes to the time you’d have spent taking photos alone or just the two of you?

This topic interests me: for a first trip, we would’ve chosen these provinces too, maybe to avoid doing what everyone else does, but also because we’d spotted some amazing temples. It didn’t happen, and now you’re letting me experience it vicariously.

Hey Jojo

I counted 18 photos of people facing the camera 😮 Seems pretty balanced to me. Plus, it just happened that way as the travel journal unfolded... Obviously, I’m more comfortable when I’m alone, but my travel companions were super patient. We’d agreed I’d be the "photo chief," responsible for capturing these moments. By the way, I’m going to make a printed album for each of us.

Here, a nice group shot for you (watch out for the guys hiding in the back—they’re keeping an eye on things!)

So kind. And incredibly colorful 🙂

But what strikes me the most is the dark skin of the men and women. And I’m fascinated by this subtly different pigmentation among Sub-Saharan Africans, though I couldn’t quite put my finger on how.

Ouch... Well, don’t go telling them they’re Black!!! They hate being called Black and don’t consider themselves Black at all... Especially when you see the photo just below... There are indeed some who are much darker than in that photo, and they’re made to feel it... And 90 to 95% of matrimonial ads mention "fair skin" in both offers and requests...

And I think, watching all these people happily bustling about, that maybe some of them had never seen the sea before.

It’s not just a maybe—it’s certain. And even now, while younger generations are starting to dip their toes in—fully clothed—many remain terrified of the sea.

However, don't forget that some photos are paid for (very touristy places with attractions, a bit like the snake charmers in Marrakech). And I faced a few refusals in an off-the-beaten-path region (Gujarat).

I can confirm that. Before the selfie craze, these accepted and requested photos were taken so seriously that people would stand there, arms hanging by their sides, with a closed, stern expression. No smiling, let alone laughing. Now things are changing—people strike poses—some more ridiculous than others—and in the end, it’s no more natural than before... The only ones who keep their freshness and spontaneity are the kids. And yes, photos have become a paid service in some tourist spots... Gujarat in particular. Otherwise, they’re refused, especially among nomadic communities. But it’s not just in Gujarat...

I really loved Mahabalipuram.

Funny how tastes differ... I hated it... But I loved Trichy, which a lot of travelers don’t like at all... Same for Bangalore

a “Namasté” that I think will make a good impression

Ouch... just like with dark skin... There’s strong resistance—if not outright hostility—toward anything from the North, whether it’s terms, people, customs, or even religious festivals. For example, Diwali or Holi are barely celebrated in the South, especially in Kerala and Tamil Nadu, two states with many similarities but fierce rivalries. Instead, they have their own religious—or non-religious—festivals that are completely unknown in the North. There’s also a strong boycott of Hindi. They prefer using English as a common language.

the extreme difficulty pedestrians have in getting around safely

This is a very recent phenomenon. Hopefully Xiongmao will read your post and explain it better than I can.

Cluttered with rubble, roots, waste, bicycles, or motorcycles, and piles of miscellaneous items. The sidewalks in Pondy are used for everything... except walking. Just look at the photos!

This is a relatively new phenomenon that only started a few years ago... It began to deteriorate after the devastating cyclone in 2016 or 2015—I can’t remember which. They wanted to take advantage of the repairs to undertake major renovation work, especially on the roads, but instead of doing it in stages, they tore everything up everywhere. Too big a project, too much corruption—long story short, it was never finished... If you look back at my old posts, you’d see a completely different side of Pondy and how much I loved it. During my last trip in 2018, I think, I was so horrified that I’ve never set foot there again.

How lucky you were! I’ve never managed to be there for Pongal, despite all my trips to that state... The perfect example of what I was saying earlier. No one in North India knows about Pongal.

Hi Marien 33, Thanks for your posts showing the interest you have in the two-handed travel journal Kate and I are publishing. The first thing I noticed, which aligns with your point, is the difference between these two "Indias"—the North and the South. And knowing this country has a thousand other facets. When I mentioned skin color without taboo, it was to say I immediately saw the difference with the north, which is much lighter. Dravidian India, partly Tamil, proud of its past and origins. And attentive, as I wrote in the journal, to distinguish itself from the Indo-Europeans of the North. Of course, I’m aware of this form of skin-color discrimination in India. You only have to look at the ads on huge city billboards or the heroes in "Bollywood" films with much fairer skin. I quickly noticed this contrast and wanted to mention it in the journal. So yes, for me, South India is darker. And "black is beautiful," especially when you pair the deep chocolate skin with the red sari of the women. But this is just an aesthetic observation.

Anyway, I’m picking up where we left off in our journal because the trip still has a lot to tell: Madurai, Munnar, the backwaters, and Kochi.

Day 7. Leaving Chettinad and heading to Madurai

Mattu Pongal, the day of the cow. Ah, India and its cows! The perfect stereotype whenever the subcontinent comes up. "They should just eat their cows!" That stupid phrase, still heard in the late sixties before famines disappeared and the "Green Revolution" began, I often heard it as a kid in adult conversations. But it’s true that for us big steak eaters, this typically Indian interaction between humans and animals is still hard to grasp. Anyway, I’m not going to do an anthropological study on the subject—just a quick reminder of the material and spiritual importance these bovines have in India, at least for Hindus. They’re there, in their familiar world, sharing the same daily space with people. Well-treated, revered. And even though I saw last year at a market in Bundi a cow that was a bit too greedy getting its ribs shaken by a guard...

Alright, enjoy your day, girls! 😉



Madurai! I was really looking forward to this stop because I’d read in the guides that the city’s temple is certainly one of the most beautiful in South India in the Dravidian style. The "Meenakshi Amman" temple. Vijay takes us to our guesthouse, Grace Kennett Foundation, in a rather unexpected spot chosen by Kate. An orphanage inside a hospital that offers Airbnb-style accommodation. Strange feeling. We enter the large courtyard. On the right: "admissions", on the left: "emergency". Okay, it’s a hospital. Did you mix things up, Kate? No, not at all. We go to the reception, and the young woman on duty confirms our reservation in a building at the back of the courtyard. We settle into the small apartment—two simple but cute rooms. Alright, we’ve got the whole afternoon ahead of us.

Photo copyright from Airbnb website

Madurai is a city with a rich past, one of the oldest in India. Vijay drops us off first in front of the Tirumalai Nayak palace. A magnificent complex in the Indo-Dravidian style, dating back, like the temple, to the 17th century. Though partly destroyed, its grandeur and proportions remind me of the great palatial residences of Rajasthan. Lots of people in the huge courtyard surrounded by colonnades, mostly Indian tourists. A family sitting on the beautiful stone steps leading to the main hall stares at us. They make friendly gestures toward Kate. A young girl approaches and asks for a selfie. Apparently, it’s Kate’s red hair that fascinates her. "You have a pretty face." Wow, what a compliment! The rest of the visit is constantly slowed down by groups of young women wanting to take photos with Kate, who ends up doing selfie after selfie. She’s the star of the day...









We leave the palace and ask Vijay to take us to the temple. From the end of an alley, we expect to see one of the four huge external gopuras towering over the area. Disappointment! All four are in the middle of restoration, covered in bamboo scaffolding. Impossible to soak in the colors or make out the countless sculptures decorating them. A bit frustrated, we walk around the four streets surrounding the temple, trying to feel the atmosphere of the place. But again, we feel let down. The vibe is certainly bustling, but the activity around it is mainly from the "temple merchants." Well, we’re not Jesus—no way we’re chasing them away. We return to our guesthouse, a bit tired. Are we going to "miss out" on Madurai?