Thanjavur and across to Cochin
Leaving tranquil Tranquebar behind, we treated ourselves to a taxi to Thanjavur, one of Tamil Nadu’s larger cities, so we could visit the Chola temples of Kumbakonam en route. Helen’s written an accompanying piece on these wonderful temples, so I won’t dwell on them here.
Unfortunately Helen was feeling unwell by the time we reached Thanjavur, so after a few administrations of ‘first aid’, I ventured out alone to take photos of the extensive Brihadeeswarar temple complex in the early evening light.
Although so far we’ve not seen the crushing poverty seen on our other visits to India, particularly in Calcutta where we encountered some truly horrendous sights, Thanjavur clearly has problems of its own. On the way to the temple, I met an elderly man who’d made a sleeping area (and a toilet) on the pavement. He gestured for me to take his picture in exchange for a few rupees. I was happy to oblige (sorry if that seems a little voyeuristic, but it feels better to give in exchange for a small service than just offer straight handouts), though clearly my offering was never going to relieve his distress. I’ve included the shot here. That look of his is not put on, it was his constant expression.
On the Thanjavur streets
Somewhat sobered by the experience, I stood up to continue my journey and came literally face-to-face, rather alarmingly, with an aggressive cow. A lady behind it gently slapped its behind and it moved off with a jerk of its head. India has a habit of moving you from the sublime to the ridiculous (though in this case the heartbreaking to the ridiculous) in an instant….
The temple of Brihadeeswarar was fabulous, but rather difficult to appreciate due to the constant demand from Indian visitors for ‘selfies’ or for me to take their pictures. Don’t get me wrong, in most cases it’s lovely that people are happy to make an approach, but you imagine this is what the downside of fame looks like with everyone wanting a piece of you. I was ‘mobbed’ many times, though most memorably by a lovely 15-strong family who kept me answering questions for 10 minutes. I wish I’d genned up on my Indian cricket personalities though, as I was asked whether I liked Virhat Kohil or Anil Kumble (the latter sounding like he’d be nice with custard). I’d only heard of Sachin Tendulkar and Kapil Dev, to my shame. Weirdly we’d been to Mr Dev’s neon infested and rather grubby bar in Patna in 2014. To my further shame, when asked whether I knew England players Joe Root and Ben Stokes, I answered “Yes, of course”, to murmurs of approval.
One of many, many photos……
Dinner on my own at a local favourite Sree Ariya Bhavan was great – a rich and marvellous mushroom masala with a sumptuous kulcha bread, and a manager who bent over backwards to make sure I was OK. Slight downer from the lady opposite me who harrumphed her way through her own meal, apparently none too pleased to be sat across from a slightly sweaty foreigner.
Helen was much better the following day. We went to the temple together, then walked up to the Maratha Palace complex which is described by the Thanjavur tourist board, quite accurately, as ‘a mix bag of ruin and renovation, superb art and random royal paraphernalia’. Built in the mid 16th century as a fort to house the rulers of the Thanjavur Nayak kingdom, it holds a durbar hall, an arsenal, a bell tower and a couple of art installations, including some super bronze Natarajas (Shiva posturing as lord of the dance, embodying the dynamic universe, symbolising cosmic rhythms and, incidentally, squashing a dwarf). The most notable aspect however was the palace library, which as well as holding antique palm-leaf manuscripts, has a fine collection of prints depicting Chinese torture methods and etchings of human faces with rabbit, monkey and horse features…..
Maratha Palace detail
Arcade at the Maratha Palace Bell Tower
Maratha Palace detail
Arcade at the Maratha Palace Bell Tower
The Maratha Palace library, with ‘educational’ statues…..
Returning to the Sree Ariya Bhavan for lunch, we gorged ourselves silly on Dhivya Bhojanam – a delicious and enormous thali of rices, sambar, rasam, mor kumbalu, varuval, poriyal kuttu, pot curd and mango thokku to name but a few delectables, washed down with sweet lime sodas. Quite wonderful stuff.
The owner of our hotel took us in his swanky car to the railway station where we caught the overnight train to Cochin, in second class this time with a variety of individuals coming and going in the berths opposite through the night. One a frightened boy who couldn’t bring himself to look at us, another a gentleman who made noises like a pig from 3 till 6 am.
Thanjavur street
Thanjavur street
Thanjavur street
Thanjavur street
Thanjavur streets
Cochin (Kochi) on Kerala’s Malabar Coast is a very different affair. The Fort Kochi area is beautiful though seriously geared up for tourism – full of high-end clothing shops & restaurants, but with pushy tuk-tuk drivers and stalls full of tourist tat.
Our apartment here is basic, but very functional, in the middle of a network of alleyways in the Mattancherry district. It’s next to a nursery that often plays an Indian version of Baby Shark. It’s really no better in a foreign language, believe me. However, Cochin has other delights. We took a cookery course here, instructed by the lovely Maria, a quietly spoken and extremely knowledgeable cook who patiently explained the fundamentals of the Keralan kitchen and made the most divine ginger chutney we’ve ever had.
We also took in a Kathakali performance, a form of Keralan theatre where characters from classical texts are brought to life using incredibly vivid makeup and elaborate costumes. Plays can last for hours (ours was just two), with the story communicated using stylised hand gestures and exaggerated facial expressions rather than words. The production is accompanied by classical, rather haunting songs and intense drumming. The actors prepare on stage beforehand, allowing you to see the intricate process of face painting and adornment – the green faced king in the shot below has ‘chops’ made out of layers of paper for example. Though the majority of the audience were tourists, we were seriously impressed with whole experience – the attention to detail was mind-boggling and the effect mesmerising.
King Nalan of Naishada, with Hamsam the golden swan above
Mattancherry warehouses, Cochin
Less can be said of our overall impression of Cochin though. Whereas we loved Thanjavur for its no holds barred Indian craziness, Cochin by contrast feels a little over-hyped and to be honest, too touristy for our liking. There’s still a wonderful old warehouse district with bags of character on the coastal Bazaar Road, but the wincingly named ‘Jew Town’, like Fort Cochin, has been completely overrun by tourism with art & perfume shops and a million selfie-taking poseurs. Still you can’t expect to be blown away everywhere now can you…..
Up to Gujurat now, a new Indian state for us, and a trip to the Little Rann of Kutch.
Simon (7th April 2025)
Footnote: I was considering whether or not to cover this part of our Cochin experience, but it’s one of those bizarre experiences that begs to be included. I’ve been suffering from an issue in the gentleman’s area for a few weeks now (nothing suss or related to Helen before you jump to conclusions…) and was told by my doctor that if it hadn’t resolved itself I should see a urologist in India. Well it hasn’t, so I made an appointment at Aster Medcity here in Cochin, a massive sprawling campus of a place full of specialists from all over Kerala. After waiting for several hours past my appointment time, I was eventually seen by the doctor. On examination of the problem he made me hit the roof in agony. “Sorry I squeezed your balls so hard” he apologised, “I’ve just come out of surgery and I’m very tired”.
Great to hear about your different experiences.of life in India. Hope you recover from surgery quickly and hope Helen is feeling better also.
It wasn’t me having the surgery, but thanks for the sentiment nevertheless! Helen’s fine – it was a stinker of a cold for a day or so……
Great post – I’m learning so much about this area.
(Not your gentleman’s area 🙂 )
Yes, I need to stop ‘over-sharing’ perhaps…!
Yes Cochin is very busy & noisy. The tuk tuks are very scary but do the job. Hope the jewels have improved!
They have as a matter of fact, thanks for asking (I think…)
Hope you both feel much better and soon (thanks for the visual) and thanks I shall have baby shark in my head for the rest of the day of that I am certain!