Discovering South India: Tamil Nadu and Kerala (page 1 of 8)

Hello everyone!

We're off! After exploring the north, the four friends have now discovered the south. We’re excited to share this new travel journal, dedicated to our little group and our strong friendship, written by Richard and illustrated with Kate’s photos. I’ll chime in from time to time with practical tips.

First of all, a big thank you to everyone on VoyageForum who helped us plan this trip. It would’ve been quite different if we’d just relied on guidebooks.

The itinerary lasted just over 3 weeks: Mahabalipuram, Pondicherry, Thanjavur, the Chettinad region, Madurai, Munnar, Munroe Island, Cochin, and Chennai. We traveled by train, taxi, and private car with a driver, took a domestic flight, and stayed in guesthouses, Airbnb apartments, and hotels. For each of us, including flights, the total budget barely reached 2000 €, and we didn’t hold back—knowing we avoid resorts and love street food and small Indian restaurants.

Hello Kate, Cool, here’s South India! 🙂 I’m totally fine taking all kinds of portraits—no need to ask 😉.

Well, yes—back to India, this time in the south, and still the four of us, the same crew. *. Nobody’s really changed since last year. There’s Nathalie, the enthusiast, always ready to “freak out in the best way”; Bruno, the laid-back one who lives in the moment without worrying too much about where he actually is; Kate, the image hunter with her trusty Nikon around her neck; and me, tasked with putting our shared experiences into words to anchor them in our memories. We’re heading back with the experience of our first trip, even though we expect a different India from the one in the north. Three weeks for a journey through Tamil Nadu and Kerala. Boarding now...

Day 1. Arrival in Mahabalipuram

First morning steps in the small town, first impressions. The 10-hour flight and late-night arrival have wiped us out—we’re feeling that classic, disorienting sense of floating a bit outside reality. Our first instinct is to compare it to North India. It’s hotter, *much* hotter—we’re in the tropics, and the vibe is summery. We’re back in the usual Indian city chaos: the symphony of horns, the bustling life, the explosion of colors. But what strikes me most is the dark skin of the men and women. I’m fascinated by this subtly different pigmentation, though I couldn’t quite say how it differs from that of sub-Saharan Africans. We’re in Tamil country.

We’re staying at Squirrel Nest Guest House in the heart of the fishermen’s quarter, a village within the city, away from the traffic noise. Small, brightly colored houses, narrow alleys cluttered with fishing nets. On the doorsteps, women draw geometric patterns in the shape of rosettes with a thousand varied colors. These are *, religious symbols made with rice powder. They serve as both a daily offering to the gods and a way to attract prosperity to the home and family, while also delivering a message of welcome.









The beach is just a stone’s throw away, littered with debris—it’s not exactly inviting. But that doesn’t really bother us; it’s a working beach covered in small fishing boats. We quickly feel at home in this environment, which is as lively as it is soothing.

The afternoon is dedicated to our first visits. Mahabalipuram boasts exceptional architectural heritage—the richest, in my opinion, of everything we’ll discover on our South India trip. The *, the seaside temple just a short distance from the ocean, showcases harmonious proportions with its two small towers facing the sea. Dating back to the 8th century, most of the sculptures decorating it are quite eroded by time and the marine elements. A quick tuk-tuk ride later, we visit the *, five small temples delicately carved from a single block of granite, each dedicated to a god and accompanied by a giant animal serving as the deity’s mount. I recognize *, the bull, vehicle of *, and admire the monumental sculpture of a life-sized elephant, the mount of the goddess *.







First Indian dinner at *, a lovely spot run by a Frenchwoman on a rooftop terrace. We’re reacquainted with the sensations of * food. The first bite is always the hardest—the nose runs, sweat beads on the forehead, but then the spices have their numbing effect, and the food goes down smoothly after that. Even in the most remote places, Indian nights are rarely silent. Dog fights, clucking hens, the crow of an insomniac rooster, and—most notably—in the dead of night, religious music blaring from loudspeakers. Waking up is a bit rough; none of us slept very well.

Day 2. Mahabalipuram

This morning we visit the main archaeological site of Maha, located in a very pretty park on a hillside. It’s a religious site dating back to the 7th and 8th centuries. A remarkable collection of temples carved directly from granite blocks. The rock-cut temple of Trimurti, dedicated to the three main gods of Hinduism—Brahma, Shiva, and Vishnu—is absolutely stunning. As is often the case in India, the gods are smiling, and they’re not the only ones. Many Indian visitors give us warm smiles and looks, sometimes even asking for selfies with us. The atmosphere is peaceful and welcoming—it’s really lovely. Best of all, unlike the big sites in North India, there aren’t swarms of street vendors trying every trick to foist their trinkets on us. A quick note to be thorough about the visits: there’s an immense bas-relief entirely sculpted from a single block of stone called the "Penance of Arjuna." The Lonely Planet calls it a masterpiece of ancient Indian art. I agree. From the 7th century—back home, that’s the Merovingian era, sure, they were badass in goldsmithing, but way more limited in architecture and sculpture.









Since yesterday, we’d noticed countless groups of Indian tourists, especially women, dressed in magnificent red saris or tunics. After asking a fruit vendor, we think we understand they’re pilgrims on organized religious trips run by tour operators—kind of like religious tourism circuits. We have fun following these lively, enthusiastic little groups down the main avenue leading to the sea and the Shore Temple. On both sides of the street, there’s a profusion of stalls selling trinkets, little toys, and all sorts of knick-knacks. We quickly realize all these people—these families—are heading to the beach, not to perform a ritual bath but simply to see the ocean, and some even wade in fully clothed, laughing their heads off. And as I watch this joyfully bustling crowd, I wonder if some of them might be seeing the sea for the first time.







After a good meal at a seafood restaurant by the shore, we head back to bed. Around 4 or 4:30 AM, I’m woken up again by religious music blasting through loudspeakers in the neighborhood. I don’t get it—do Indians ever sleep?

I’m totally fine with taking that kind of portrait—no need to ask ;).

If you go to India, you won’t need to ask either—Indians will practically beg you to photograph them or their kids ;).

I’m totally fine taking that kind of portrait—no need to ask 😉.

If you go to India, you won’t need to ask—the Indians will *beg* you to photograph them or their kids 😉.





Gorgeous 🙂 Richard mentioned you have a Nikon. If you don’t mind me asking, what lens do you use for portraits?

Richard said you have a Nikon. If you don't mind me asking, which lens do you use for portraits?

I have a Nikon 18-200mm lens. I only took that one to travel light. At home, for portraits, I sometimes use my Sigma 105mm macro. That’s all I’ve got for now! (for the moment 😉)

We’re staying at a guesthouse Squirrel Nest Guest House in the heart of the fishermen’s quarter, a village within the city, away from the traffic noise

For those of you struggling like I did to find a nice place to stay at a very reasonable price in Maha, I highly recommend this guesthouse. Simple, clean, and above all, located in an adorable neighborhood that we all fell in love with. We really enjoyed wandering through the quiet little streets and meeting the smiling locals. It reminded us of La Pointe Courte in Sète :) I could’ve easily stayed a few more days...

If you go to India, you won’t need to ask—Indians will beg you to photograph them or their kids 😉

I agree with this 99.99% of the time. 🙂

However, don’t forget that some photos come with a fee (super touristy spots with attractions, kind of like the snake charmers in Marrakech). And I got a few refusals in an off-the-beaten-path region (Gujarat).

I really loved Mahabalipuram.

Richard said you have a Nikon. If you don't mind me asking, which lens do you use for portraits?

I have a Nikon 18-200mm lens. I only took that one to travel light. At home, for portraits, I sometimes use my Sigma 105mm macro. That’s all I have! (for now 😉)

Thanks Kate for the info 😊 You have an APS-C, so that makes it 24-300mm in full-frame—it’s what I had when I was using a DSLR 😄. It’s indeed a great compromise when you want to travel light 👍 I thought you had a prime lens for portraits, that’s why I asked.

I'm heading there too—it's been way too long since I last went to TN, and there are hidden gems there. I love stopping by Mama when I arrive, and the fishermen's quarter is really nice.

I loved the "Gang of Four" in the North, no reason to skip the South, which I don’t know at all! Off we go! !

Thanks everyone, we're carrying on! 🙂

Day 3. From Mahabalipuram to Pondicherry

We left by taxi this morning for Pondy, less than two hours from Maha. Before leaving, Nathalie and I checked out with the young man who owns the guesthouse. The conversation that followed taught us a lot about South India. I greeted my host politely with a "Namasté," which I thought would make a good impression. "No Namasté here in Tamil Nadu! Namasté is Hindi; here we speak Tamil. You say Va Na Kam." Through his words, I sensed a man proud of his identity, his language, and his roots. During the conversation, he took care to distinguish the Tamil people from the populations of North India. "Hindis are Aryans. We were the first inhabitants of India." This strong Tamil identity is something I noticed throughout our trip, not just because of the language or physical traits. I also took the opportunity to ask him about the religious music that fills the night. Nathalie and I vaguely understood that these chants are meant to ward off evil spirits—he pronounced the word "ghost," I think. But the effort to concentrate on understanding his English left me struggling by the end of the conversation. After some research when I got back, I found an interesting piece of information about the "Brahma muhurta, the hour of Brahma," which is the second-to-last phase of the night before sunrise. It’s a time considered auspicious for meditation or worship. Maybe that’s what our host was referring to.



Hôtel de la plage, rue Romain Rolland, rue Sainte Thérèse... No doubt about it, we’re in Pondicherry... the French one? For me, Pondy—for the history teacher I used to be—was first and foremost the exam topics we had exclusively due to the school calendar. "Did you see what they got in Pondy this year? Tough for them..." My first reflex was to take a photo of the entrance to the French lycée to send to my former colleagues, with the République française plaque, Marianne, and the tricolor flag... And then all those guides, from the *Routard* to *Lonely Planet*, which, while nuanced, still sell us the image of a little piece of France in Indian soil. Pondy the French, then? Well, yes, there’s a "French" quarter—what’s called the White Town—with its colonial-style houses, a bit worn down. Yes, there’s also a strong French institutional and intellectual presence, beyond the lycée, with the Institut français, the Alliance française, and the École française d’Extrême-Orient. And of course, the street names that evoke almost incongruous feelings, like rue Saint-Louis, for example. The disorientation might seem reversed, but Pondicherry is very much an Indian city, even in the so-called French quarter, if only because of the extreme difficulty for a pedestrian to walk around peacefully. Ah, the sidewalks of Pondy! Cluttered with rubble, roots, trash, bikes, motorcycles, and piles of random objects. The sidewalks of Pondy are used for everything... except walking. The proof is in the photos!







Day 4. A day in Pondicherry

Our accommodation in Pondicherry is gorgeous, in a quiet little street in the French quarter, at the Les Hibiscus hotel.



This morning, instead of visiting Sri Aurobindo’s Ashram, we decided to dive into the more typically Indian frenzy of the Tamil quarter, which is also partly the Christian quarter of the city. We headed to the city’s large covered market, which Nathalie had spotted on the *Routard* map. We walked along an endless avenue under a sun already beating down, trying to navigate between the sidewalk and the road. The four of us love Indian markets, whether they’re covered or open-air. They’re what connect us best to India—the people, the atmosphere, the everyday scenes. It’s a great way in, and it’s also the aesthetic pleasure for Kate, who can capture moments of life in her camera. We first entered the fish market. No Westerners in sight, and we had the slightly vain impression of being real backpackers, able to appreciate India far from the tourist trails. Kate was in her element with her camera, looking for the right light, the right angle, the right situation. Nathalie came out with her legendary "so good, I’m loving it," Bruno observed everything—the stalls, the products, the beauty of some of the women. The smells were strong; it smelled of fish, obviously. The crowd was indescribable, people brushing past each other without really jostling. We then moved on to the vegetable markets, then the spice markets. Colors, scents. Sure, there are beautiful markets back home too. But what makes everything exotic are the little differences. The women or men sitting to sell their goods with stalls right on the ground, and the feeling that everything is organized without any real organization. We left the ambient hubbub a bit dazed, a bit tipsy. Time for a chai or a lassi...



Tamil Nadu and Kerala, even more so, are partly Christian lands. Between 18 and 25% depending on the state. A quick visit to the Cathedral of Our Lady of the Immaculate Conception was a must. The building is quite majestic—it’s a cathedral, so the seat of a bishopric. Christianity, Islam, Hinduism—religion often imposes itself rather than proposes, but I was still moved by the fervor of these Tamil Indians, which reminded me that Christianity isn’t just a "white" affair. In the afternoon, we continued our exploration of Pondy by visiting the Muslim quarter. And surprise—it’s probably the most peaceful corner of the city. Beautiful, colorful houses with composite but original styles, and rather good taste, revealing a socio-economic level above the average. A very peaceful neighborhood where, twice, passersby welcomed us in impeccable French. What a strange city this Franco-Indian, Hindu-Muslim-Christian Pondicherry is.









Tonight, a little treat with a somewhat upscale restaurant in an old colonial-style house. Very good dinner, sure, but as Kate, who’s showing off a bit, says, "nothing beats street food." She’s not wrong. Tomorrow, we’re taking the train to Tanjore...

J5. Morning in Thanjavur for the Brihadeeswarar Temple visit

The train to Thanjavur is only an hour late—okay, that’s pretty standard for India. We booked an air-conditioned compartment given the long journey, nearly 4 hours after all.



We arrive as dusk falls. The taxi takes us to our guesthouse on the outskirts of the center: Tanjore Homestay. While planning our itinerary, we’d considered spending 3 nights in Thanjavur to explore and visit all the major temples in the region. But we changed our minds, wanting to spend more time in the small Chettinad region during the next leg. So just one night, with a visit to the Brihadeeswarar Temple the following morning. After breakfast, we meet Vijay, the driver we booked for 8 days, all the way to Munroe Island in Kerala. Va Na Kam, handshakes. He’s a big guy—huge shoulders, a gentle but weary look. I notice he has some trouble walking. Thirty years on the job, his back’s wrecked, as we’ll learn later when we get to know him better. Still, Vijay turns out to be an excellent driver—calm, careful, and full of good advice.



We enter the vast temple complex. The French-speaking guide we booked never shows up—we won’t see him at all. Oh well, we’ll explore a bit randomly, following our curiosity and emotions. The overall view is stunning, magnified by the two towering gopuras of golden stone that form the entrance and open onto a large square filled with shrines. A high-pitched melody and drumming catch our attention. A ceremony is underway in front of a small pillared pavilion. Priests bustle around a curtain that seems to hide a deity’s statue. After a long while, the statue is unveiled, revealed to the devotees. It’s a moving moment—men and women press their hands together above their heads in prayer. We approach the main temple, absolutely majestic, adorned with countless high-relief statues. The golden stone gilds the carved scenes, and the effect is breathtaking, though I imagine the entire temple was polychrome when it was built in the 11th century. Among the sculptures, I spot my favorite: Shiva as Nataraja, the cosmic dancer. This depiction of Shiva and his dance of the universe has always fascinated me. A lovely morning inside this remarkable sanctuary, even if we’re a bit frustrated by the lack of information.

I love India and its colors. I'm happily setting off! 🙂

In any case, Vijay turned out to be an excellent driver—calm, careful, and full of good advice too.

Absolutely... I can recommend his services without hesitation. Here’s his WhatsApp contact: Vijay: +91 8903266119 The rate for 8 days was 49,000 INR. A great deal for 4 people! 😊

India and its colors—I love it. Happy to join in! 🙂

Okay, we’re taking you with us 😉

Day 5. On the road in the afternoon to Chettinad

The idea of discovering the small region of Chettinad came to Kate while planning our itinerary, as she read through Pagaljavab’s travel journals on VF. Thanks to his valuable tips, we were able to explore part of this area effectively. Thanks to him! On the way, Vijay stops at the fort of Thirumayam in the village of Pudukkotai. This powerful 16th-century fortress overlooks the entire valley and offers a stunning view of the Chettiar countryside.



We arrive in the early afternoon at Chettinad Heritage, a resort hotel located away from the village of Mithilaipatti.

Using Pagal’s explorations as a guide, I quickly put together a discovery route for the day and a half we’ll spend in Chettinad. Off to Namunasaduram to visit the temple known as Ellangudipatti, dedicated to the god Ayyanar. Vijay drops us at the edge of a small grove, its entrance marked by a large blue-toned gate topped with a lintel decorated with statues. Before us stretches a long alley lined on both sides with hundreds of terracotta horses—some badly worn, others brand new. The effect is striking. We walk in silence, as if watched by this motionless escort. Without knowing much about this strange army of frozen gazes, I sense the enduring nature of an ancient cult. At the end of the alley, monumental statues: an elephant, a horse, and a sort of stand where offerings are placed.





Suddenly, out of nowhere, a group of excited kids appears. They motion for us to take off our shoes. The conversation starts—friendly, sure, but pretty hard to follow due to our broken English and their high-pitched chatter meant to explain things. They seem really interested in us, even amused. After a round of selfies, the flock of kids scatters and disappears.

Later, I learn that the sanctuary tucked away in this sacred grove is dedicated to the god Ayyanar, a local deity deeply revered in Tamil Nadu and likely pre-Hindu. The hundreds of horses are votive offerings made by the villagers. The evening at the hotel is quiet, though we can hear lively echoes from the village. Tomorrow, the Pongal festival begins!

Day 6. Pongal Day in Chettinad

Pongal, the great Tamil festival! It’s what will set the rhythm for our entire day of exploration.

Chettinad is best known for its famous palace-homes built in the 19th century by merchants who grew wealthy from long-distance trade across Southeast Asia and Sri Lanka. Upon returning home, each family wanted to showcase their social success and opulence by constructing these massive houses in a composite style, decorated with precious materials sourced from around the world: Italian marble, English steel, Burmese teak, and woodwork from northern India. But this displayed prosperity didn’t last long—with the collapse of business in the 1950s, the beautiful homes were no longer maintained, and most were abandoned. Since then, the villages of Chettinad have offered visitors a series of "Sleeping Beauty Palaces," frozen in time. However, since the early 21st century, some of these palaces have been restored and opened their doors to tourists.

We start our tour in Kanadukathan. The urban layout of these villages—long, straight avenues arranged in an orthogonal grid—is surprising compared to the usual Indian city patterns. A few beautiful, though slightly faded, facades catch our eye, but most of the houses are closed. Still, I push open the door of one of them. A woman comes toward me. "Can we visit? No, it’s closed today, Pongal."





A little disappointed, we walk around the pond facing a temple when our attention is drawn to a small group of women boiling rice while the men stand and watch. We approach. "Va na Kam! What is it? Rice, it’s Pongal." This is the big day of this primarily Tamil festival: Thai Pongal. A semi-agricultural, semi-religious, propitiatory festival—very popular and one that seems to transcend religious differences. Pongal is first and foremost the harvest festival, where people thank god/the gods and the animals that made the abundance possible. But it’s also the name of the dish prepared for the occasion—a mix of rice, sugar, and milk that’s intentionally allowed to boil over the pot. The women stand up and place a bit of the hot, sticky, deliciously sweet mixture in our hands. We warmly thank them for the offering.





We hit the road again toward Athangudi to visit another temple dedicated to the god Ayyanar. There are always those fascinating horses that seem to neigh inwardly. Then we visit the famous "Lakshmi House," a magnificent Chettiar home: order and beauty, luxury, calm... Another quick car ride to "Saratha Vilas" in Kothamangalam, another Chettiar home beautifully restored by a French couple of architects.







Fatigue starts to set in, though—we’re feeling a little tired. Come on, one last stop before heading back: Pavalangudi. We begin strolling through the village when a man calls out to us. "Come to see my home," then a second, who seems important, says, "My home too. It’s the oldest in the village." We’re a bit wary. Memories of North India resurface—what are they going to try to sell us? But nothing, actually. The first just wants to show us the pretty kolam decorating his doorstep and introduces us to his family. As for the second, who seems to be bursting with impatience while waiting for his colleague to finish, he takes us to his home and invites us in. It’s a beautiful Tamil house with elegant proportions but furnished quite simply. We see everything—the living rooms, the upper floors, the kitchen, the garden. He also introduces us to his family and tells us about his son, who’s studying in the USA. His eagerness, his enthusiasm to show us his world makes us smile. But quickly, amusement gives way to respect. It’s no small thing to open your home to strangers. The mother sits us down and offers us some Pongal. "Happy Pongal!" Then his friend, who followed us, explains the different days of this great festival: Bhogi, Thai Pongal, Mattu Pongal, and finally Kaanum Pongal. It’s time to head back. A few selfies, handshakes, and we warmly thank the family for their hospitality. On the road back to the hotel, we’re stopped by a crowd. Vijay stops the car, and we end up walking through a group of children and adults scattered on both sides of the road. On the ground, dozens of colorful geometric patterns. It’s a kolam competition. Tomorrow, Pongal continues. It’ll be the day of the cow...

And my cute little one!

Loved all the interactions with the locals 😊