When Kerala Became More Than a Trip

Kerala in the Rain: One Family Trip, Countless Stories and Memories for a Lifetime

Some journeys are remembered for the places you visit. Some are remembered for the people you travel with. And then there are those rare trips where everything—the destination, the people, the weather, the unexpected problems and even the things that don't go according to plan—comes together to create a story you know you'll keep telling for years.

Our Kerala trip was exactly that kind of journey.

When Kerala Wasn't Even Our First Choice

Our trip actually began sometime in June, long before we packed a single bag. My husband Siddhant, my mother-in-law, my father-in-law and I had started discussing where we should go for our next family vacation. We considered Himachal Pradesh, Gujarat, Rajasthan and several other destinations, but for one reason or another, nothing felt completely right.

Then someone suggested Kerala.

Siddhant and I were immediately convinced. Kerala seemed to have everything we wanted—mountains, backwaters, wildlife, waterfalls, culture, food and those endless green landscapes we had admired in photographs. We convinced my husband's parents as well, and suddenly our endless destination discussions had an answer—Kerala it was!

There was just one thing making us hesitate. We were planning to travel during the last week of July, right in the middle of Kerala's monsoon. The pictures of rain-soaked tea plantations, overflowing waterfalls, misty mountains and lush green landscapes looked incredible, but there was another side to it too. What if it rained continuously? What if sightseeing became difficult? What if our plans were ruined?

Eventually, we decided there was no point worrying about everything that might happen. We would prepare for the rain, keep our itinerary flexible and experience Kerala the way the monsoon wanted to show it to us.

Looking back, that decision shaped our entire journey.

A 40-Hour Train Journey and a Mysterious "Upgrade"

Our adventure began with an early-morning train scheduled for 6:16 AM. We reached the railway station about an hour beforehand, had some tea, coffee and biscuits and waited for what was going to be an almost 40-hour journey to Ernakulam.

Even before we boarded, Indian Railways had given us our first travel story.

Our original seats—4, 5, 6 and 8—were all together. Then, around eight hours before departure, we received a message saying our tickets had been upgraded. The word "upgrade" sounded wonderful until we saw our new seat numbers: 30, 34, 40 and 46.

All four of us had suddenly been scattered across the coach.

We initially convinced a few passengers to exchange seats with us, only to discover that they were getting off at different stations such as Kota and Panvel. Eventually, we abandoned our mission to sit together permanently and simply adjusted. Siddhant and I spent much of the first day together on an upper berth, watching movies and taking naps, while my in-laws sat on a lower berth. At night, everyone returned to their assigned seats.

By the next day, several passengers had reached their destinations and many seats were empty. Siddhant and I grabbed an empty side-lower berth and spent hours looking through the window, watching India's landscapes change as Kerala came closer. Meals arrived regularly, conversations continued, videos were recorded and somehow those 40 hours didn't feel as exhausting as we'd expected.

At around 9:30 PM the following day, we finally reached Ernakulam. Our cab was waiting, our hotel had already been booked and within a short while we were in our rooms, eating dinner and preparing to sleep.

After weeks of planning and almost two days on a train, we were finally in God's Own Country.

Alleppey: Where Our Kerala Adventure Truly Began

The following morning was when our actual Kerala road trip began. After breakfast, we loaded our luggage into the cab, met the driver bhaiya who would become an important part of our journey, and started towards Alleppey—or Alappuzha—the heart of Kerala's famous backwaters.

Our first big experience was going to be an overnight houseboat stay, something we'd been looking forward to since planning the trip.

We reached the boarding point, found our houseboat and completed the formalities. Everything was going smoothly until Siddhant stepped outside to check where our luggage was.

His face accidentally hit one of the boat's ropes.

His sunglasses flew off.

And disappeared straight into the backwaters.

The Goggles That Refused to Leave Us

We all immediately began looking into the water even though logic told us there was almost no chance of finding them. Then, as the cloudy sky briefly cleared, sunlight reflected off something beneath the surface.

I somehow became convinced that the tiny shining object was the sunglasses.

The houseboat owner called for help, and soon a man arrived wearing a black lungi, dived into the water and—almost unbelievably—came back holding Siddhant's sunglasses.

Kerala had barely started, and we already had a story that sounded made up.

Those goggles have their own strange history of getting lost and somehow returning to us, but that's another story. For now, our luggage had arrived, the goggles had returned, and our houseboat adventure could finally begin.

Houseboat, Speedboat, Shikara and a Rainy Night

At around 1:30 PM, our houseboat began cruising through Alleppey's backwaters. Lunch was served while we moved—rice, sambar, vegetables, salad, papad, pickle and fish. Coconut trees, village homes and narrow waterways slowly passed outside while we ate.

Later, when a staff member asked whether anyone wanted to try a speedboat ride, Siddhant and I immediately agreed. We'd literally been discussing it minutes earlier. We convinced my in-laws as well, and what followed was one of the most unexpectedly exciting experiences of our Alleppey stay.

Our houseboat later stopped near a local market, where we walked around, clicked photographs and had ice cream. Then came a shikara ride through narrower canals that the larger houseboat couldn't enter. We watched village life from the water and experienced a gorgeous sunset before returning.

That evening there was even a live singing programme aboard the houseboat. We wisely declined the invitation to sing but happily joined the dancing. After dinner, when we were finally preparing to sleep, rain began falling again. Instead of closing the window, we opened it, recorded the rain and played with the drops from our room.

The monsoon was already becoming part of every memory.

From Alleppey's Backwaters to the Hills of Thekkady

The next morning we left Alleppey's calm backwaters behind and headed towards Thekkady. The scenery gradually transformed from flat roads and coconut trees into hills, tea gardens, mist and endless greenery.

Rain followed us along the way.

We stopped at the beautiful Pattumala Church, surrounded by tea-covered hills, and even pulled over at a roadside waterfall because apparently by then we'd lost the ability to drive past anything beautiful without taking photographs.

At Periyar, we went for an elephant ride, skipped the elephant bath because the weather was already cold, and then had a wonderful lunch of Kerala parotta, chicken curry, fish and payasam.

Later, our jungle safari took us through beautiful forest landscapes. One particular stop remains vivid in my memory: mountains, water, trees and a setting sun forming a scene that looked exactly like the landscapes we used to draw in school as children.

We reluctantly boarded the last bus back before the animals decided we were overnight guests.

Kalaripayattu, Fire and a Sweet Ending

That evening, after briefly checking into our hotel, we rushed out again for a Kalaripayattu performance.

We expected it to be interesting.

We didn't expect it to be that good.

Weapons, martial arts, athletic movements, fire and sparks made the show one of the cultural highlights of our trip. The performers' strength, speed and control were incredible to watch.

Afterward, we stopped at one of Thekkady's famous chocolate shops and bought some chocolates before returning to our hotel for dinner and a much-needed night's sleep.

The Road to Munnar Became an Adventure of Its Own

The next morning, we left for Munnar, but reaching Munnar became an experience in itself.

Our first stop was a spice and Ayurvedic garden where we saw cardamom, black pepper, cinnamon, cloves, nutmeg, turmeric, ginger, vanilla and several medicinal plants. Our guide explained how they grow, their traditional uses and their connection with Ayurveda. We also bought a few Ayurvedic products from the garden's shop.

And yes, it rained throughout the visit.

Umbrellas had practically become permanent accessories by then.

Further ahead, we stopped at a huge black Ganesha statue, took photographs and continued towards Munnar. We also passed Eagle's Flight, promoted as India's longest zipline. Siddhant and I desperately wanted to try it, but the rain had other plans.

Then our driver bhaiya suggested a jeep safari and insisted we shouldn't miss it.

Good thing we listened.

Ripple Waterfalls, Raincoats and a Broken Camera Stand

Our jeep safari took us towards Ripple Waterfalls. By the time we arrived, it was raining again, so we bought raincoats before starting the walk.

Then disaster struck.

My camera stand broke.

I'd specifically carried it for photographs, and naturally it chose the moment I needed it most to retire permanently. I was genuinely disappointed, but Kerala didn't give me much time to remain sad.

Colourful rain-covered water lilies appeared along the way, streams flowed down the hills, and eventually we reached Ripple Waterfalls roaring with monsoon water. The view was spectacular, and for a while, I completely forgot about the tripod.

On the way back, we bought our customary fridge magnets before continuing the safari towards Ponmudi Hanging Bridge, the Rajakkad and Ponmudi landscape, Kundala Lake and Nadukani.

Somewhere along the way, we also discovered that we didn't really need the tripod. Our cab driver and jeep driver turned into surprisingly talented photographers. They patiently clicked our photographs and made videos at practically every stop.

At Nadukani, we also discovered mangosteen, the purple tropical fruit nicknamed the "Queen of Fruits." We bought some to taste later and continued our journey.

From a Rainy Jeep Safari Straight to Kathakali

From the jeep safari, we went almost directly to a Kathakali performance.

The hall was dark, colourful and unbelievably cold. Once the show began, though, we forgot about the temperature. Elaborate makeup, huge costumes, expressive eyes, facial movements, mudras, music and storytelling introduced us to another side of Kerala's cultural heritage.

After seeing the physical power of Kalaripayattu the previous evening, Kathakali's controlled expressions and dramatic storytelling felt completely different.

By the time we reached our Munnar hotel, we were exhausted and freezing. All we wanted was a hot bath, dinner and sleep.

Instead, we discovered another adventure waiting.

The Hot-Water Struggle We Didn't Ask For

The hotel's hot water was available only during limited morning hours. After some discussion, the staff gave us an immersion rod.

So there we were in cold, rainy Munnar—carrying water from the bathroom into the room, heating it and carrying it back again.

It was hardly the relaxing shower we'd imagined, but we somehow managed.

After dinner, we remembered the mangosteen we'd bought, finally opened it, tasted its sweet and slightly tangy white flesh, and then went straight to sleep.

Munnar in Raincoats

The following morning brought another surprise: despite expecting hot water during the stated hours, the water was still freezing. We got ready anyway, had breakfast and began another full day in Munnar.

We explored the Government Botanical Garden Munnar in our raincoats, making videos and taking pictures while the rain continued. Then we visited a tea plantation, where we even rented costumes for a professional photoshoot.

The scenery was magnificent, and when the rain intensified after the shoot, we simply put our raincoats back on and continued walking through the tea gardens.

The rain couldn't stop us.

Our only regret was that we couldn't get the drone footage we'd hoped to capture.

After warming ourselves with hot Maggi, boiled corn and tea, we visited Mattupetty Dam and then stopped for lunch.

By then, it was almost 3 PM, and we faced a choice.

A museum?

Or Rajamalai and Eravikulam National Park?

Doing both properly before closing time was unrealistic, so we chose Eravikulam.

That decision gave us one of the most memorable experiences of the entire trip.

The Rainy Climb to Rajamalai

We boarded the park bus and began climbing through landscapes covered in mist, fog and rain. Waterfalls appeared along the mountains, including one spectacular cascade right beside the bus route.

After the bus dropped us at the upper visitor area, we began walking uphill towards the habitat of the endangered Nilgiri tahr.

My father-in-law eventually decided to turn back. My mother-in-law also became tired but kept walking slowly with us.

The rain became heavier.

The wind became stronger.

Walking uphill in raincoats wasn't easy.

But we continued.

Then we saw waterfalls flowing across distant mountains, another wild cascade beside the walking path and finally the reward we'd been hoping for—a Nilgiri tahr, along with younger animals nearby.

They were some distance away, but we could see and photograph them.

Standing there in the rain after that exhausting climb made the entire effort worthwhile.

Eventually, with evening approaching and the weather worsening, we turned back, returned by bus, bought tea leaves and chocolates and went to the hotel for one final battle with the immersion rod.

Our Last Morning Brought a Very Different Kind of Rain

Then came our last morning in Kerala, and suddenly the mood changed completely.

Our driver bhaiya called to warn us about a red alert, extremely heavy rain and landslides on the route towards Kochi. We checked the news and realised the situation was serious, with fatalities also being reported.

Siddhant, our driver and I were worried, but we didn't tell my in-laws every alarming detail because we didn't want them to panic.

We packed quickly, ate breakfast and left Munnar earlier than planned.

The drive was simultaneously breathtaking and unsettling. Waterfalls were pouring down mountains everywhere, streams were overflowing and distant slopes were covered in white ribbons of rushing water.

Then we reached areas where machinery was clearing mud, rocks and debris from landslides.

Seeing that changed the meaning of the rain we'd been enjoying throughout our holiday.

The monsoon wasn't merely beautiful.

It demanded respect.

From the Mountains to Fort Kochi

Eventually, we safely reached Kochi.

After lunch, limited time forced us to choose between a museum and Fort Kochi Beach.

We chose the beach.

Given the rain, perhaps not our finest decision.

Strong winds carried sea spray towards us, umbrellas struggled and we became wet anyway. Still, we clicked photographs, explored the surrounding streets and bought—you guessed it—more fridge magnets.

We stopped outside St. Francis Church, visited historic Mattancherry Palace, and walked through Jew Street, where we had ice cream and pancakes and did some last-minute shopping.

We even spotted a boat cruise we desperately wanted to try, but this time the clock won.

Our train was scheduled for 6 PM, and Kerala had already taught us enough lessons about respecting time and weather.

Saying Goodbye to Driver Bhaiya

The final drive to Ernakulam railway station felt different from every other drive.

Our driver bhaiya had been with us through rain, mountains, waterfalls, food stops, changing plans and countless photographs. Somewhere along the journey, he had stopped feeling like simply the person driving our cab and had become part of our Kerala story.

Before saying goodbye, we gave him a small keychain as a token of appreciation.

Then we collected our bags and walked towards the platform.

Back on the Train, With a Thousand Memories

It was still raining.

We were wet.

Our train was already waiting.

Since the coach was almost empty, we hung a curtain around our berths, changed into dry clothes and finally sat down.

For the first time in days, there was nowhere else we needed to go.

No attraction waiting.

No tickets to book.

No mountain to climb.

No raincoat to put on.

And that's when the whole trip began replaying in our minds—the 40-hour train journey, Alleppey's backwaters, Siddhant's sunglasses disappearing underwater and miraculously returning, speedboats and shikaras, elephants and forests, Kalaripayattu, spice gardens, tea plantations, Ripple Waterfalls, a broken camera stand, Kathakali, mangosteen, Rajamalai, Nilgiri tahr, landslides, Fort Kochi, Mattancherry and those endless Kerala roads.

And rain.

So much rain.

The Rain We Feared Became the Story We Loved

Before leaving home, rain had been our biggest concern. We wondered whether travelling to Kerala during monsoon would turn out to be a mistake.

Instead, the rain became one of the main characters of our journey.

It followed us through backwaters and forests, covered Munnar in mist, made waterfalls roar, forced us into raincoats, cancelled activities, complicated our photographs and occasionally made travelling difficult. On the final day, it even reminded us how powerful and dangerous nature could become.

Our Kerala trip wasn't perfect. Plans changed. We missed the zipline and drone shots. Our camera stand broke. Hot water became an everyday struggle in Munnar. We were soaked more times than I can remember, and some days ended with us completely exhausted.

But perhaps that's exactly why the trip became so memorable.

Years from now, I probably won't remember whether every hotel room was perfect or whether we reached every attraction at exactly the planned time. I'll remember my mother-in-law continuing up Rajamalai even when she was tired. I'll remember the man diving into Alleppey's backwaters to recover Siddhant's goggles. I'll remember our driver bhaiya patiently taking yet another photograph. I'll remember eating mangosteen in our hotel room after a long day. I'll remember standing in a raincoat watching Ripple Waterfalls roar. And I'll remember sitting inside our train on the final evening, watching Kerala disappear outside the window while the rain continued to fall.

We Went for a Vacation and Came Back With Stories

We had gone to Kerala expecting a vacation.

What we came back with was a collection of stories.

Some were funny. Some were beautiful. Some were exhausting. Some frightened us a little. And some were completely unexpected. But together, they became one unforgettable family journey through God's Own Country.

The trip taught us something else too. A journey doesn't have to go exactly according to plan to be wonderful. Sometimes the rain you feared becomes your favourite memory. Sometimes the broken camera stand leads you to two unexpected photographers. Sometimes the activity you miss makes room for another experience. And sometimes the moments you never