The regal approach sets the tone for my stay. An hour’s drive from the Nedumbassery airport in an SUV on smooth roads is of course nothing remarkable but the last leg of my journey, by design, is by private boat. Tableaus of semi-rural Kerala greet us as we putter off from the Varapuzha jetty. A brahminy kite swoops to make a kill. Ferries ship passengers, vehicles and all, across the water. A fishing net, of the Chinese variety, is cast against the evening sky. Then the boat slips into a little canal and a little palace snaps into view. The welcoming party is already at the jetty.
It would be a travesty to call Chittoor Kottaram a ‘hotel’. This ‘homestay’ (but without the term’s self-effacing connotations), managed so ably by the CGH Earth group these few seasons, is unique in many aspects. One deviation from the norm I’m immediately made aware of, for, before I can enter, I must take off my shoes, and remain barefoot for the rest of my stay. The other USP I already know about: this is a single-key property, all three bedrooms, living areas, sprawling grounds and the boat at my sole disposal for the duration of the visit.
The tika-and-garland routine over, I mull over which bed I’m going to grace that night. It’s a no-brainer really and, shortly, the sprawling master bedroom on the first floor has a new occupant. And thus I settle into a relaxed routine: a judicious mix of mammoth meals and village walks to work them off, cultural performances to improve the mind and long siestas to assimilate them.
The origins of this palace of the Cochin kings, set in Cheranallur — an island in the Periyar river just north of Kochi (now, of course, connected to the city by a bridge) — seem wrapped in the mists of time. Much as I tried, chatting with owner Suresh Namboothiri included (more of which later), I could not pinpoint an exact date for its construction, estimates ranging from four hundred to a hundred years ago. Naturally, this only adds to its aura.
That first evening, I’m treated to some devotional songs (sopanam) performed by Jai and Girish from the temple next door. Sanskrit, the language of religious observance here, is Greek to me, yet the songs are strangely moving. When they end, almost on cue the drummer’s mobile splinters the silence, whisking us back to the twenty-first century. The performers retreat to the temple, the temple that lies at the very heart of this tale. The story goes that a king of Cochin, Rama Varma, was compelled to move his royal seat from Perumpadappu to Thripunithura, following an invasion by the rival Zamorins. This separated the king, a devotee of Lord Krishna, from his beloved Guruvayur temple. To make amends, he built a similar temple in this quiet hamlet and subsequently an adjoining palace so he could visit his temple in the comfort he was accustomed to. This is why all of the food served at Chittoor Kottaram is pure vegetarian.
What they don’t tell you is that it’s pure ambrosia. I start off my dinner with banana flower ‘kababs’ served with peanut chutney, followed by a drumstick and coriander soup. This would normally do the job for me. But there’s only a moment’s respite before a massive silver platter arrives. It’s laden with tribute: pineapple salad, beetroot chapatis, rajma masala, kadhai vegetables, palak pumpkin, paneer cashew, breadfruit with coconut, masala papad, sweet pickle and vegetable rice. There is nothing on that plate that has not been kissed by ghee. The spicing is subtle but confident. No one hovers while I commune with the grub. The palada payasam makes for a sweet finish.
After dinner, I take the first of those aforementioned walks, heading out of the eastern entrance, which faces the temple. Even in the late evening, the Chittoorappan temple is buzzing with devotees. There’s a small market, replete with ‘fancy’ stores. Jai and Girish seem to be leading some sort of ceremonial circumambulation of the main shrine. My perambulation over, I head back ‘home’. At night I am cocooned in the darkness, the sky reassuringly studded with stars. In the starlight, a mongoose scurries across the grass. A robust breeze brings coolness from across the water. Temple bells start ringing long before daybreak.
In a ‘product’ like Chittoor Kottaram, the staff plays a defining role and here, I’m happy to report, all is as it should be and more. There’s Milton, who runs the operation smoothly; Annie, who rustled up that grand meal all by herself (and does so every mealtime, every single day — “There is no stepney,” as Milton so evocatively put it); Michael, tender of the garden and custodian of disarming smiles; Antony, who helms the boat; and the force’s junior-most, Junaid, who seems to do a bit of everything.
It is with Junaid that I go for a pre-prandial walk in the morning. At that early hour, the Chittoorappan temple exudes a calm spirituality. The wooden lattice for oil lamps that surrounds all Kerala-style temples, visible in daylight, is soot-black with countless years of worship. The temple tank has attracted the first batch of bathers. We pass a meat shop selling beef, pork, chicken and duck, all under the same roof. That’s just how syncretic Kerala is. At the meat ‘farm’ next door, the caretaker sends his ducks waddling off into the water. There’s a bridge across the backwaters and those iconic fishing nets, the net for which now comes from — you guessed it — China. “That’s why they’re called Chinese fishing nets,” Junaid, quite correctly, points out. We cross the bridge and find ourselves at the charming Vaduthala Church.
I would like to tell you about the sumptuous kingly repast that I returned to but I’m presently sitting in a chair in the balcony, recovering. The view from this Athangudi-tiled gallery over the backwaters is splendid. The last time I was on these waters, I was taking an eleven-rupee ferry ride from Alleppey to Kottayam. Now that I have my own little boat, I use it to visit Shanmugam Road, Kochi’s Marine Drive, where I go on a bit of a spice-buying spree. I then point the Grey Heron in the other direction, and head to Sunset Point. Because I’m worth it.
That’s the leitmotif of Chittoor Kottaram. You’re lord of the realm, if only for a night or two. This is a unique privilege, and I can see many guests falling for it. (I’m made of sterner stuff.) Milton takes his role as a subject rather seriously and has been referring to me as ‘maharaja’ ever since I arrived. He sensibly downgrades it to ‘prince’ that evening. Next morning, however, I’m back to being a king.
My chat with Suresh Namboothiri took place in the gazebo over some traditional Kerala snacks. He narrated the story with precision. The palace had been abandoned since the 1960s. Then a school rented the premises in 1984. Suresh, a CA by profession, was practising in Dubai when his wife, Jayasree Varma, who is a member of the Cochin royal family, inherited the palace. This was in 1996. Drawn by their legacy, they returned in 1998. That’s when the roofing was done. Proper restoration was only taken up in 2005 and entrusted to Inspiration, a Kochi-based architectural firm
Inspiration did such a good job, the project earned a nomination for the Aga Khan Award for Architecture. It wasn’t an easy job though. Barring the wall structure everything had to be redone. The padippura (gateway) had collapsed and was rebuilt on the basis of an old photograph.
It is like you would restore a beloved family home. There are practical modern touches, like insect screens, glass doors that draw in natural light and wood laminate floors upstairs — not strictly heritage restoration stuff. Some things work, some don’t, but it all comes together.
There is a kulam (bathing tank) lined with laterite stone on the premises. It has a traditional kulappura (entrance to tank). The old wooden door gracing it was brought from another royal home. The tank is presently home to ornamental fish but there are plans to convert it into a swimming pool.
The furniture is all made to old designs, the rosewood for which was personally sourced from a contractor friend — a Mr Patel. Replicas of a distinctive bed with a wooden canopy which was found in the palace have been used in the downstairs bedroom. I particularly liked the swing in the living room (where the king once held audience), hanging not from chains but long logs of teak wood. It makes the motion somewhat…regal. A happy offshoot of all this — it seems to have inspired Suresh’s daughter to take up architecture as a profession.
Suresh ran the place himself for a couple of years and counts Top Chef’s Padma Lakshmi among his former guests. He then handed over the keys to CGH Earth, whose ethos he found in sync with the offering. Serendipitously, Inspiration had previously worked on SwaSwara, a CGH Earth property in Gokarna.
That evening, I’m introduced to ottanthullal, a narrative dance form not witnessed by too many tourists. A temple art form in its inception, it is now performed in secular settings as well. What sets it apart is its single performer, playing all the parts. The presenter this evening is Maruthorvattom Kannan, who has been learning ottanthullal since the age of five. “This is my life,” says the thirty-two-year-old. For my pleasure, he enacts that lovely story where Draupadi asks Bheema to fetch her a lotus she covets. Heading out on the quest, Bheema finds a grizzled old Hanuman blocking his path (or rather his tail doing it). In turns, I see Bheema, Draupadi and Hanuman, but only one person has taken the stage. The action is well paced and I watch with rapt attention.
The Cochin royals were never known for their ostentation and Chittoor Kottaram is no Rajasthani pleasure palace. The simple tiled roof and the modest size of the building speak for themselves. And yet it feels indubitably special. In an experience so near perfect, I have only two cribs: the shower area in the master bathroom should be provided with a shower caddy or at least a soap dish. And pancakes stuffed with coconut and banana and topped with an orange and honey syrup are just too much of a good thing.
If you ask me, I’d say Chittoor Kottaram takes hospitality to the next natural level of evolution. Once you’ve given your guests every imaginable luxury under the sun, pampered them till they’re spoilt silly, feasted them till they beg to fast, what more can you possibly do? I’m sitting inside the answer. You pare away all the extraneous stuff till you’re left with the true essentials.
Who wouldn’t want this to be their next holiday? Not a single pesky stranger in sight. No pressure to mingle. Staff who fall over themselves to please, yet there’s nothing studied in their manner. Food that is unpretentious and wholesome. CGH Earth clearly is at the top of the game. They care about the environment for one — not a plastic bottle in sight, the sanitary bag in the bathroom made of recycled newsprint. Which other place charging Rs 20,000 a night can you think of that does that? The true non-hotel hotel.
To be honest, as an only guest, I had expected to be bored stiff at best or driven over the edge by the solitude at worst. And yet here I was, on my last morning, a little depressed at the prospect of leaving my tiny kingdom behind. Enduring parting gifts helped lift my mood. There were cashews from the garden and a jackfruit sapling for the garden back home. And, at my request, some lawn grass which now runs rampant in my own modest kottaram.
The information
Getting there
Chittoor Kottaram is in Cheranallur, 29km from the Cochin International Airport at Nedumbassery. The airport is well serviced by flights from all Indian metros. The Delhi-Kochi fare is Rs 5,500 onwards. Chittoor Kottaram is connected to Kochi by the Chittoor-Vaduthala bridge and is just 7km from Fort Cochin.
The stay
Chittoor Kottaram is a palatial three-bedroom homestay managed by the CGH Earth group. It can accommodate up to six people. There’s an exclusive boat at your disposal for transfers and sightseeing. Meals are vegetarian. Note that there is no menu and most of the food is unapologetically local in provenance (lunches are traditional Kerala sadyas served on plantain leafs; dinners tend to be more pan-Indian affairs). Of course, dietary preferences can be accommodated. Expect to be served deep-fried rice flour balls stuffed with jaggery and suchlike with your tea. You can’t eat just one.
Tariff Rs 20,000 per night for two. Valid till September 30. This may seem steep but is actually great value for what’s on offer, including as it does all meals and taxes, use of the boat and cultural performances each evening. Contact 0484-3011711 (central reservations), cghearth.com
What to see & do
Given its proximity to Kochi, Chittoor Kottaram serves as an excellent base for exploring the city. You can do all the usual things from the comfort of your palace, including must-sees like Fort Kochi, Jew Town and its Jewish Synagogue and the bustling Broadway Market in Ernakulam. And you can visit many of these places in the comfort of ‘your’ boat.
Go for walks around the village. It’s illuminating.
Take boat rides. Chittoor Kottaram organises backwaters and sunset cruises in any case.
Take in cultural performances including devotional songs, ottanthullal and many more.
Ask Annie to share a recipe or two. She’ll only be too happy to and will throw in a practical demonstration as well.
If you have an interest in architecture, you might want to inspect the Holy Infants’ High School, est. 1909, right at the Varapuzha jetty. Don’t miss the nearby St Augustine’s Church, Moolampilly either.
For shopping, especially spices, skip touristy Jew Town and head to Ashis Super Mercato on Kochi’s Marine Drive instead. This department store offers great quality, and the prices are reasonable. Also stock up on sambar powders and superlative peanut chikki here.
The 10-day Chittoorappan temple festival takes place in April. You might want to plan your trip around then.