I’ve had my fill
The vodka is fully consum’d
Now I’ll have a snooze
A satisfied cat
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A teetotal private club by the seashore in Fort Kochi (Kerala)
DURING BRITISH RULE in India, the (white) colonisers formed clubs to which Indians, apart from those who worked in them as servants, were excluded. Many of these colonial era clubs are still in business, but now serve as refuges to which (mainly) upper middle class and upper class Indians can escape from the other Indians that surround them in daily life.
One of these clubs is the Cochin Club in Fort Kochi (Kerala). It stands on land close to the seafront. Prior to the establishment of the club in 1914, this land was formerly Schulers Shipbuilding Yard, and later Grieves Beach Yard. It was given to the founding secretary of the club,H Baechtold, by Volkhart Brothers.
It was only in the 1960s and ‘70s that the club ceased to be exclusively for ‘white’ people. Many of the club’s buildings are fine examples of colonial architecture. The bar is magnificent, as are the rooms adjacent to it (the lounge-cum-billiards room, the library, and another smaller bar).
Although the bar is a marvellous example of colonial era design, there is now a problem. In the early years of the club, members and their guests used to enjoy alcoholic beverages at the bar, this is no longer the case. Exactly when alcohol ceased to be available I do not knoe.
For many years, the club has not had a liquor licence, and given the very high cost of such licences in the State of Kerala there is little likelihood that an alcohol licence will be purchased by the club. We were told that if a special occ such as a wedding reception, takes place within the lovely grounds of the club, whomever is organising it can purchase (at great cost) a temporary booze licence for the day.
Because of the absence of a liquor licence, the club is often very empty – almost like the famed Marie Celeste. The club has five wonderful, spacious guest rooms, and the income from the guests hiring these is an important source of income for the establishment. In addition, the club rents out space to other businesses. Currently (January 2026), one of these is a café, and the other is a boutique.
Outnumbering the usual number of members and room guests in the club are the white egrets that stride around the grounds in a most proprietorial manner.
Because we are members of a club affiliated to the Cochin Club, we can use their facilities and hire their bedrooms. The Cochin Club is today, as it was in the past, a peaceful place to escape from the hustle and bustle of Fort Kochi, which seems to increase each time we visit the town.
A horse on the highway
You never know
What you’ll see on an Indian road
A horse and cart ?
From the Basque country to the tea plantations of Kerala (southern India)
DURING THE SECOND half of the nineteenth century, British tea planters cleared away great swathes of forest from the hills around Munnar in what is now Kerala. They used the cleared areas to grow tea bushes. To achieve this transformation and to maintain and harvest the tea gardens Indian workers, many of them Tamil, were brought into the area. Amongst them, there were some who had become Christians, most of them Catholics.
Anticipating the Christian workers’ needs for practising their religion, Spanish missionaries from the Archdiocese of Verapoly climbed up the treacherous paths to Munnar, risking attacks by tigers, wild elephants, leeches, etc. They were of the Carmelite Order.
The first of these missionaries was Father Alfonso (1854-1916) who was born in the Spanish Basque country. He arrived in Verapoly (in Kochi on the Malabar Coast) in 1883. When he first went up to Munnar in 1897, there were no roads linking the place with the plains below it.
To cut a long story short, Father Alfonso managed to acquire a small plot of land in Munnar from the tea company that owned all of the land in the area. There, he built a church. It was a basic affair with a coconut leaf roof. Later, this was replaced by a more substantial edifice. Between 1934 and 1938, a new church replaced the second one, and that, with later modifications, is what can be seen standing proudly above Munnar town’s bazaar area. Father Alfonso died of malaria while visiting Munnar, and his grave is in the existing Mount Carmel church in Munnar.
Alfonso and his fellow missionaries did not come up to the hills merely to supply the Christian workers with their spiritual requirements. While visiting their ‘flock’, which was scattered amongst difficult to reach settlements, they managed to convert many of the other labourers to become god-fearing Roman Catholics.
I have distilled this information from a fascinating book I bought in Munnar: “Mother Church of the High Ranges. Munnar Church. First Missionary Accounts”, which contains extracts of letters written by the early Spanish missionaries to a Spanish Catholic journal.
What is notable amongst these accounts is the missionaries’ antagonism to the mainly British Protestants in the Munnar area. They also felt that the workers were being exploited, and that all of their readers should remember this while enjoying cups of tea.
Once a railway station in Kerala but now a viewpoint for tourists
TOP STATION IS about 20 miles from Munnar (in Kerala) and 5500 feet above sea level. Today, it is a popular tourist attraction, providing visitors with magnificent views of several ranges of hills. The place gets its name because it was the highest station on a railway that no longer exists.
Between 1902 and 1908, a monorail system used for transporting locally harvested tea was built to connect Munnar with Top Station. In 1908, this was replaced by a narrow-gauge railway the Kundala Valley Railway. Tea was transported to Top Station, where it was loaded onto a ropeway that carried it down 3 miles to a village, Kottagudi, in Tamil Nadu. From there, it was transported to other parts of India. Sadly, the railway was washed away during a severe flood in 1924, and was never replaced.
Top Station was not only important as a railway Terminus, but also as a place on a road that was improved by the British in 1942, when it was feared that Chennai, which had been bombed, might be invaded by the Japanese.
Following the bombing, which caused little damage, people fled from Chennai, the wealthy to hill station, and the less well-known off to villages and towns far from the east coast. Meanwhile, the British built what became known as the Escape Road, which ran across the high mountains between Kodaikanal and Munnar. This 50 mile road linked roads from Madras with roads from Munnar to Kochi (Cochin), from where troops could leave India if necessary.
The Escape Road, which reaches 8140 feet was the highest road in India South of the Himalayas. The road remained in use until 1990. After this date, it fell into disused because neither Tamil Nadu nor Kerala were prepared to pay for its upkeep.
As a result of the closing of the former Escape Road, travellers between Munnar and Kodaikanal have to travel on other roads. The present road route is 105 miles instead of 50 miles taken by the disused road.
Top Station is well worth visiting. The views from over the precipice are amazing. To see them, one needs to elbow aside the numerous people posing for photographs or taking ‘selfies’. Unfortunately, the viewpoint itself is covered with litter left by tourists.
Souvenir of a former kingdom in the south of India
HIGH IN THE WESTERN Ghats on the road, NH85, that connects Munnar in Kerala with Theni in Tamil Nadu, we passed the check post at the border of the two Indian states.
As we drove across the border into Tamil Nadu, I noticed a small greyish building on whose facade there is a crest (with a depiction of an elephant’s head) and the words: “Travancore Custom House. Bodi Meti”. Bodi Meti (now ‘Bodimettu’) is the name of the settlement at the border crossing.
Travancore was an independent kingdom between c1729 and 1949, when it merged with what was to become part of the current state of Kerala. Therefore, the custom house on the busy mountain road is a relic or souvenir of a kingdom that exists no more.
A simple cemetery near a tea factory in Munnar
AFTER HAVING EATEN lunch at Munnar’s High Range Club, which I will describe at a future date, we walked along the road that runs along a bank of the Muthirappuzhayar River. As we walked along the road from the club, away from Munnar town, we spotted some graves near to the Chokanad Estate tea factory.
One of the graves, an elaborate enclosure painted blue, is the final resting place of I Krishnan (1932-1980). He was “factory watcher”.
There were a few other substantial, simple funerary monuments, each of which had a small niche in which a diya (oil lamp) can be placed. The other graves in this rustic graveyard are simple mounds, mostly without informative markers. All of them had been sprinkled with a white powder.
None of the graves resemble any Muslim grave that I have seen. And none of them have the crosses one would expect if they were marking burial sites of Christians.
The two names we could read in the cemetery could well be those of Hindus: Krishnan and Shanmugathai. This and the absence of any Muslim or Christian symbols made me guess that this small rural graveyard is where Hindus have been buried.
Now, before some of you tell me that Hindus are cremated, not buried, let me set you right on this. Many Hindus are cremated, but not all. There are some sects that favour burial. And if you need proof of this, visit the very large Hindu Cemetery which is close to Hosur Road in Bangalore. The Hindu graves in that cemetery are far more elaborate and colourful than those we spotted surrounded by tea plantations in the hills of Kerala.
I would like to know more about the tiny graveyard by the river. However, it might be a long time before (if ever) I find out. The place, which is about 400 yards from the nearest houses, is not even marked on maps.
When the letters V and R did not refer to England’s Queen Victoria
THE SETUPARVARTIPURAM DAM, also known as the Kundala Dam, is a popular spot for tourists. This curved dam, built with masonry blocks, lies near the beautiful road that runs between Munnar and Top Station, a high mountain view point.
At the entrance to the narrow roadway that runs along the top of the dam, there are two commemorative plaques. Both of them bear the coat of arms if the former Kingdom of Travancore and the letters V and R intertwined.
One of the plaques informs the viewer that the dam was opened during the twenty-fifth year of the reign of “His Highness Sri Chitra Thirumal Sir Balaramvarma … Maharajah of Travancore”. Born in 1912, he died in 1991. He came to the throne in 1924. Therefore, the twenty-fifth year of his reign was 1948/49.
It was in 1949, that the Maharajah agreed to unite Travancore with Cochin (and the rest of India). Between Indian independence in August 1947 and 1949, Travancore resisted unification with the new republic of India. Between 1949 and 1956 Sri Chitra Thirumal served as the first and only Governor of the newly formed Travancore-Cochin Union. In 1956, this territory was incorporated into the state of Kerala.
As for the intertwined R and V, this has nothing to do with Queen Victoria (VR). Instead, it refers to Rama Varma, a set of rulers of Travancore, Cochin, and other parts of Southern India.
Having established the significance of the letters R and V, I must add that a visit to the dam is a delightful experience.
French Onion soup made at a restaurant in the hills of Kerala
I LOVE FRENCH ONION soup. So, whenever I see it on a menu, I order it. In Munnar (Kerala), there is a vegetarian restaurant called Saravana Bhavan. It has French Onion Soup on its menu. So, I ordered a bowl.
What arrived did not have have cheese laden, or even plain, croutons. The soup was dark brown in colour and contained many thin pieces of fried onion. It was delicious but quite unlike the ‘traditional’ French Onion soup. It was spicier and more peppery.
Today, after having enjoyed a second serving of Saravana’s version of the soup, we asked the chef how he made the soup. Its ingredients include salt, pepper, garlic, ginger, onions, and a tiny amount of soya sauce.
When I return to London, I will try to recreate this Munnar version of the soup.
A morning stroll in the town of Munnar in Kerala
JUST OVER FIVE thousand feet above sea level, the small town of Munnar, watered by three streams that meet in the town’s centre, is perched on the slopes of the hills that surround it. Unlike many places we have visited in India that are rich in historical monuments and artistic delights, the joy of Munnar is its situation and the beautiful views of the hills and tea gardens that surround it. Having said that, we did visit a couple of old buildings – old by Munnar’s standards (the town did not exist before the nineteenth century) – during our morning stroll on 14 January 2026.
Walking down the steep road from our hotel to the bazaar area near where three rivers meet, we passed sellers of long sticks of sugar cane topped with green leaves. The canes were stacked vertically creating what resembled a curtain of bamboo stalks. Facing the canes was a long line of parked Mahindra jeeps, all waiting to be hired. As we passed their drivers, we were asked whether we needed a taxi.
The busy bazaar area of Munnar resembles that found in many small towns in India. The streets that wound their way through this area have a never-ending stream of traffic: autorickshaws, trucks, cars, minibuses carrying visitors, large buses, and motorised two-wheelers. Bridges cross the river to join two equally bustling shopping areas.
Near the point where the three rivers meet, there is a bank where we got some cash: many businesses, including hotels and some restaurants require cash payments or electronic payments, which we cannot do. After dealing with the bank, we sampled a couple of types of locally grown tea: cardamom and masala milk teas.
After quenching our thirst, we headed away from town along the road that leads to Ernakulam. This leafy thoroughfare is lined on one side with market stalls, selling mainly ‘homemade’ Munnar chocolate and outdoor clothing (anoraks, hats, etc).
After walking up a gradual incline for about 300 yards, we passed the Government Anglo Tamil Primary School (‘GATP’) and Model Pre-Primary. The GATP was founded in 1918, and its building with corrugated iron roofs and Tamil style pillars looks quite old.
Not far from the school and high above it is an even older edifice. Completed and consecrated in 1911, this is the Church of South India’s Christ Church. Built in a gothic style using local granite blocks, it is a grey coloured building, which, to my taste, is not particularly attractive.
Inside, this small church with its timber beamed roof has its own charm. Even though it was long after Twelfth Night the church was gloriously colourful with its Christmas decorations still in place. A service was in progress. The number of people attending was under twenty.
The church has a few stained glass windows and several plaques commemorating Brits who were associated with Munnar. One white marble memorial commemorates Archibald William Lunel Vernede who died in Munnar in 1917, aged 67. For many years, he had been: “Superintendent and District Magistrate of the Cardamom Hills”. These Hills are the part of the Western Ghats that includes Munnar.
Another memorial recalls a more recent death. That of Cecil Philip Gouldsbury, who was a tea planter in the High Range (near Munnar), and died in 1971. I did a little research, and found that Cecil was born in Calcutta in 1886, and died in Wiltshire (UK).
Although not a great beauty, Christ Church is a functioning Church, one of the oldest surviving buildings in Munnar, and a place that evokes the colonial era in the town.
After our pleasant stroll during which we enjoyed seeing the varying verdant vistas, we rode back to our hotel in an autorickshaw.
[And now a minor gripe. In India, the three-wheeler cabs used to be, and are still often called ‘autorickshaws’. However, their drivers, seeing a European face, will refer to them as ‘tuk tuks’, the name by which they are known further east ( e.g. in Thailand). I prefer to call these vehicles autorickshaws, as I have been doing over more than 30 years of visiting India.]
yamey 