On to India where paradise comes wrapped in a sari and a western omelette
When we reached Kerala Bamboo House, my eyes popped open as if he’d dropped me off at a Club Med property without tourists. Kerala Bamboo Club is a compound made up of large bamboo huts, connected by cute little dirt paths and an absolutely beautiful botanical garden. As I write this on a comfy, cushioned rattan chair on my little porch, I see four huge trees covered in bright pink flowers. Big leafy maroon plants crawl up a lamp post. Palm trees hover over the entire ground like statuesque models. I hear the soft voice of a woman singing a Hindu prayer. Birds sing as they fly past palm trees with the sun coming up beyond them.
My mouth was agape. It stayed that way when I walked past the office 30 feet away. There I stood atop a cliff a good two miles long. Below me about 100 feet was one of the widest, cleanest beaches I’ve seen in Asia. It stretched the length of the cliff and as broad as a cricket ground. It was golden sand without a speck of rock or garbage anywhere. The sea languidly lapped up against the beach.
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