We were horizontal, well almost, lying by the pool at the Old Harbour Hotel in Fort Cochin, freshly squeezed papaya juice in hand, in the glorious, seductive heat of the midday Indian sun. Yes, Mad Dogs and Englishman and all that, but after months of British winter coming hard on the heels of a washed-out summer, sun (and Factor 20), was what we craved. Suddenly Mr Smith leaned over to me and pointed at a grey-haired, bespectacled man in a sun hat who was inspecting the flowers of an exotic plant with as much interest as David Attenborough. He then called to a boy who was trimming the lawn with a pair of oversized scissors and had him lop off some of the plant’s leaves that were obviously offending him. We thought his behaviour as a guest, well, rather odd and watched amused as he continued his botanical tour with at least as much fervour. It was only later when we were chatting to Edgar Pinto, the young, amiable and charming owner of this Keralan boutique hotel, that we discovered that our botanist was no less than the hotel’s architect and designer, a Swiss-German named Karl Damschen. ‘Karl is responsible for every single detail here right down to the old antique bell that hangs below the stairs. He found it in an antiques’ market and designed and commissioned a chain to hang it from. He’s an absolute perfectionist,’ laughed Edgar. ‘I’m not even allowed to buy paintings, the last one I bought he hated!’ Now, this must be rather annoying if you actually own your own hotel – surely that grants you carte blanche to impose your chosen style? – but when you discover that Herr Damschen has been responsible for some of Kerala’s most triumphant hotels such as Brunton Boatyard (across the way) and the conversion of Kalari Kovilakom, a former 19th-century palace near the border of Tamil Nadu, you must learn to temper your taste.
A Dutch colonial building, Old Harbour opened 14 months ago having been through previous incarnations as a private residence, a hotel and, firstly, a Portuguese hospice. Damschen has created 13 large individually designed bedrooms. His use of space cleverly means that the hotel feels somehow bigger than it is – you certainly never feel on top of your fellow guests, an international crowd ranging from businessmen to families – but also completely personal. Our huge, high-ceilinged room was furnished with traditional colonial furniture, polished teak floors, white walls and two metal sculptures by a famous modern Indian artist, and was annexed by an enclosed veranda with a wooden bench swing hanging from the ceiling.
The gardens are a triumph (each plant set at a measured distance from one another and chosen for the exact colours of its leaves), dominated by an enormous ancient mango tree whose young fruit was hanging tantalisingly high in the branches. By night it is transformed into an alfresco dining room with candlelit tables and live music to accompany a mixed platter loaded with giant prawns, calamari, paneer and vegetables from the tandoor oven. We polished off this seafood feast with a traditional colonial ‘Pudding of the Sahib’, roughly a rice pudding in jaggery (sugar) sauce. It must have been the English in us again.
The next day we set out to explore our Fort Cochin surroundings. Perfectly located just back from the river and the famous cantilevered Chinese fishing nets, Old Harbour hotel makes a great base. Ice-cream in hand, we wandered around on foot – a walkway runs along the river and is lined with fish stands, stalls purveying tourist titbits and ancient gnarled rain trees under whose spreading boughs locals seek shade. We paid a visit to India’s oldest church, St Francis, where Vasco Da Gama was buried for 14 years and watched impromptu (but highly competitive nonetheless) cricket matches on Parade Ground, four acres of grassland where the Portuguese, Dutch and British once conducted military drills.
I was sorely tempted to try out one of the Keralan cooking lessons that are advertised in shops and home-stays all over town, but the eating part always vanquished. The staple of the Cochin diet is fish and you can see why – the daily haul from the ancient fishing nets (erected between 1350 and 1450) displays prawns the size of my hand, tuna, crab, small sharks, sea bass and mahi mahi. Only once in our two-week stay did we eat chicken.
We found quality Indian clothes and textiles away from the tourist stalls at boutiques such as FabIndia and Cinnamon. Mr Smith bought a linen shirt in the most delicate shade of blue, and I could have loaded my suitcase with silk cushion covers, curtains, bedspreads and organic white cotton clothes had I the space (yes, there is an eco awareness across the shores of Cochin).
My one concession to shopping though was loading up with spices from the famous Spice Market in Jew Town, a five-minute rickshaw ride from our hotel in Fort Cochin. (Little packets of nutmeg, saffron, vanilla pods, hot black pepper, green cardamoms now proudly align my spice rack at home – and, yes, I’ve cooked with them all since.) There is also a fabulous bookshop, Incy Bella, just by the Jewish synagogue. We bought Rudyard Kipling’s Tales of India and a collection of stories by Rabindranath Tagore, one of India’s most beloved writers; there’s everything you could need for your Keralan travels – history, novels, cookery books, travel guides and, of course, the Kama Sutra should any Mr & Mrs Smiths want to hone their technique.
Later on, we forwent the garden paradise of Old Harbour to sample a more low-key supper round the corner at one of Fort Cochin’s local restaurants, Chariot Beach. Unbeknown to us before our visit, alcohol is not widely available in Kerala due to the prohibitive cost of a licence – but if you ask for a ‘cup of tea’, a Kingfisher beer is usually decanted into a white teapot and swiftly brought to the table. So we drank beer out of brightly coloured mugs and mopped up our hot fish curry sauce with tandoor-fresh naan (all for well under £10 for two) before strolling back to Old Harbour and a grown up digestif served under the stars – this time in glasses. There’s nothing like a curry, a sultry hot night and the knowledge of a beautiful air-conditioned bedroom upstairs to get you in the mood. Now where did I put those bookshop purchases…
