Fifty Shades of Green

Kerala takes my breath away.

- AMIT DIXIT

Every single time. As the aircraft circles languidly over the land, I peek outside the window, only to be startled by the intense greenbelow.

A fertile land, kissed by the first sprays of the monsoon, Kerala is truly blessed by the gods. I'm visiting in the late-monsoon, when the coastal state is at its lush best.

This time though, I'm giving the popular south-the heritage enclave of Fort Kochi and the dreamy backwaters crisscrossed by the kettuvalloms a miss. My quarry are the laidback northern districts, marked by uninterrupted expanses of pristine beach, mountains just minutes away, some scintillating history, and tradition that has stood the test of time. As for the food-it is to die for.

The drive from Mangalore airport to the Gateway Bekal, a plush new property set over 30 tranquil acres between the Bekal River and the Arabian Sea, is stunning, over countless bridges, small towns and a sky heavy with rain clouds.

I arrive in a burst of thunder and rain-and planned excursions have to be put on hold. So I take in the property. The architecture is a melange of several local styles, woven seamlessly into each other.

There are loads of meeting and banqueting spaces for those destination weddings.

My cottage of red-laterite bricks, is a home away from home. Golf carts, named after local bird species, whisk guests around. Staff collects colourful champa blossoms in an upturned umbrella The next morning the rain gods are kind-that is to say, they stay away. And I'm off into the hills, which are surprisingly close. Within the hour, we are ascending towards Thonikadavu, said to be the Ooty of Malabar. The drive itself is like an initiation. The hill roads of northern Kerala curlupwards in a rhythm of hairpin bends, each turn opening into a glimpse of mist, forest, or a sudden valley far below. By the time I reachThonikadavu, I already feel as though I have been gently weaned away from the world I know.