CHENNAI: The concrete thoroughfare chips and chops as we drive from Coimbatore city towards the hinterland of Pollachi. From biryani-dotted restaurants to the green flourish of the fields, the shimmer of the white clouds clinging to the powder-blue skies above, the occasional sighting of peacocks and peahens dancing on the roofs, and a 20-km stretch of tamarind trees offering benevolent shade from the summer sun — this constantly changing landscape reminds me that it is the journey that is fulfilling.
As cliché as it may be, for a city slicker like me who grew up in Maximum City, fast food, fast fashion and fast trains are the only way of living I know. My younger years of travel were all about superficial sightseeing. Delays were disturbing. But the pandemic years confronted me with the fragility of life that my time on earth is finite. That my reckless travelling choices so far have added to the swirling trash under which the planet is getting buried.
Can I reconcile myself to seeing fewer places, offering lesser carbon footprints, but lasting memories for survival? Bumping over these ruminations and rutted roads in the final fifteen minutes, I feel our vehicle heaving a sigh of relief as we reach By The Riverside, a cosy resort sitting snug in the arms of Sethumadai village. I brace myself for my first immersive experience of slowing down.
The grin of the green
Upon arrival, my first impression is that silence can be heard in many ways the absence of noise, the presence of something supremely powerful, or the quieting of the inner chatter. Here, I feel all three, instantly. Set on the foothills of the thick jungles of the Anamalai Tiger Reserve, the quaint resort spreads over 10 acres, with coconut and cocoa plantations being its evergreen residents. Blushing blooms of bougainvillaea grin in the company of the evergreen shrubs of portulaca grandiflora and golden thryallis, and lead me to the welcome area where art photographs on the walls with a few crawlies for company reveals the all-embracing nature of the surrounding mountains.
The understated interiors including the absence of a conventional welcome desk inform me that simplicity is sustainability. And that can be quite charming too. My larger-than-life illusions are put to rest as I find beauty co-habiting with basics a petite wooden table housing a sanitiser, a box of tissues, two steel jars filled with water, a calendar, a photographic field guide of the birds of south India by David Raju and Surya Ramachandran, and a WiFi router. But truth be told, the only signal you’ll receive here is the call of the wild and the mountains, and that can’t go unheeded, can it?
Responsible offerings
Accommodation and food take the centre stage at the resort. There are six rooms — four on the first floor, at the level of the main entrance, and two on the ground floor — each bearing mythological references. Ponni and Sarayu offer stilling views of the Anamalai mountains, Tamra and Tamsa invite you to take a dip in the pool, and the green lawns of Amirtha and Ashva in a metaphorical sort of way remind one to stay grounded even while our ego and its games tower over our tiny physical bodies. For the duration of the next three days, my mountain-facing abode seems to give meaning to my existence as I draw the curtains at the proverbial crack of dawn, stroll on the gigantic balcony (that is perhaps bigger than two bathrooms clubbed together in my apartment back in the city), watch a nearby gurgling stream, take in the first rays of the sun and discover how to breathe.
My grime-filled lungs rejoice in these moments, while my heart crumples at the thought of how nature has been devoted to humanity but the reverse is only steeped in shame. It is perhaps due to this sense of regret and urgency, to undo the wrongs of our species, that many hotels and resorts, in recent years, have taken the route of responsibility to restore, resurrect and revive what we snatched from the green universe. For me, one of the highlights is that By The Riverside, on its part, has taken this duty quite seriously. The property is a no-plastic zone. Bathrooms don’t have a range of toiletries that fancy our tangible needs during vacations.
There is, however, a dispenser partially filled with shampoo and bathing gel from a popular Indian wellness brand mounted on the grey-tiled wall of the shower area. Reducing wastage is what the owners and the staff work towards consciously and meticulously, assures Pravin Shanmughanandam, under whose caring supervision the property, the staff and the guests thrive. I also discover that the spirit of responsibility need not trump the experience of a laid-back vacation when I get a glimpse of the in-room showers in the pool-facing rooms — that offer outdoor environs with no roof, but just bird calls and towering trees to wash away your inhibitions.
Finding natural connections
The resort has no television sets and gets no phone or Internet signal unless you are in your room. I am not used to this type of detox, but this very disconnectedness from the WWW teaches me to build an appetite for slowness and become acutely aware of how difficult it is to let go of my attachments. This is the kind of green penance that city-battered souls must regularly practice, I contemplate. Besides, it also lets you rest your mind games and engage in some healthy competitive foosball game that is available for guests on the ground floor. If you are here with children, unleash them from their academic ties and play some board games, frisbee and football that will bring out that child in you too. The lazy offerings are tempting and I want to linger in this solace, but the vistas of mountains pencilled into the sky reveal a different side of the stay, prompting me to visit them for an early morning or evening bird walk.
Time and I are both unhurried as I arrive early at the dining area for all my meals — despite the whirring sound of the mixer and whistling of the pressure cooker — and diligently do nothing. Open and roomy, with a heavy, wooden seating arrangement, there are four tables and each can accommodate about six guests at a time. The modesty of the thoughtfully designed ambience lets me be myself lethargic unlike some chic settings which demand a very prim and ‘propah’ behaviour. Food is also a showstopper here, and the ebullient kitchen staff lend a personal touch with their presence in a non-intrusive manner.
Chettinadu cuisine is their speciality, Pravin tells me over a homely breakfast spread as I try the piping hot vellai paniyaram an in-house masterpiece with a side of coconut-based gravy and chutney. Over my next few meals, I spend time feasting on other delights samai pongal, pudhina parotta, pineapple kesari, and mushroom dum biryani. The sweltering heat doesn’t seem like the right time for soup, but I hold my reservations after sampling the cauliflower soup on the first night. The plainness of its look betrays the wholesomeness of its flavours; I greedily gulp it down and ask for another bowl. For someone who disses sweets, I overdose on the kavuni rice payasam. I hear other guests exalting the chicken kulambu and mutton uppu kari.
What also impresses me is the unassuming, no-frills cutlery, which is a pleasant departure from the heavy ceramic plates and accoutrements that sometimes make the act of eating more an exercise for your forearms. Food is cooked in limited quantities depending on the number of guests, ensuring wastage is minimum. On my second night, I am invited to a BBQ gathering by a family of ten, who are here to celebrate a birthday. While barbecue is not a daily feature, it can be arranged on request. Plonked on the lawn, watching them play dumb charades, my renewed sense of serenity is punctuated by their cheers and boos. I leisurely walk away to the dining area and surprise myself by asking for soup as I eyeball the dinner table. Who knew I would surrender my gustatory sense to soup sorcery. Both my head and heart are drowsy with pure joy. On the night before I leave, I let the warm scent of the forest, the croaking frogs and the whistling woods tuck me in bed while I gently whisper to the wilderness, I’ll be back.
What to expect
Rs 9,000 Two pool rooms for two persons. All meals included
Rs 3,000 The cost of extra bed.
There are six rooms
Kids below 5 complimentary
Kids 6-11 Rs 1,800 per kid
Kids 12 and above is adult - Rs 3,000 for extra bed
For more details: https://www.thepapyrusitineraries.in/ tour-item/by-the-riverside-sethumadai/
For bookings, contact booking office at +91 94439 76979
(This is the first of a two-part series on Pollachi.)