INDIA TRAVEL NET

Somewhere around the middle section of Kerala's coast, the Indian Ocean finally realises that it has now become the Arabian Sea. The result of this personality change is a splendid azure colour, quite distinctive, with frothy whitecaps and a translucent, pearl-like quality. The sands that fringe this coastline for endless miles are themselves distinctive, deep and rich and fine, in a shade closer to ocher than gold.

This natural brushwork leaves its mark on human life too. The people of the area have been fisherfolk for millennia and over this time, they've evolved a way of life that's as tranquil and colourful as their world.

The village of Mararikulam is tucked away behind a line of dense palms that rise like a sudden rampart of green out of the sands. Like all villages, it has evolved naturally, in picturesque disorder.

The huts are slapdash adobe, thatched with-what else? -palm and tied with coir, or coconut rope. (In fact, the coconut tree supplies the villagers with an endless number of useful items, from kitchen ladles to sunhats to boat hulls.) Neat and scrupulously clean footpaths veer between the huts and everywhere, the pungent scents of the sea mingle with the fragrance of coconut oil and spice.

Spread out here and there on rough coir mats are sunbursts of red. These are the famous red chilis, without which no self-respecting fishwife would ever dream of serving up dinner.
Evening in fact, is a special time. The winking of oil lamps and cooking fires transforms the village into a glowing tableau vivant, with a painted sunset as the backdrop. Within moments, you feel your city clock winding gently down, then dying without protest as you pass through a scene unchanged for centuries.

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