Munnar Diaries
Slow Travel - Edition 1
I live in a city.
Bombay, to be precise.
One of the fastest-moving cities in the world.
Where time is currency.
And ‘leisure’ is a ‘luxury’ you hope to unlock.
Someday.
Don’t get me wrong now.
I love the pace and I thrive in the ‘speed’.
I love the opportunities the city provides.
I love how Bombay overwhelms me
As much as it supports my ambitions.
But every now and then,
I also know that I need to slow down.
Not just in pace, but in thought.
For making space for fresher perspectives.
For stories that are far away from mine.
In a ‘capitalistic’ world, ‘slow’ is a much-judged word.
But in a world wired for speed,
I love to stop.
To listen.
To the land. To its people.
That’s why I started travelling slow.
Not for hopping cities for pictures.
But for staying still long enough
To let a place whisper its truths.
And for me, that journey in 2025
Began with Munnar.
Munnar: Misty Mountains Where the Clouds Kiss You
Perched in the Western Ghats,
Munnar is a poem in neon green.
Rolling hills, tea-scented air,
And clouds that walk beside you.
Once a summer retreat
For British planters escaping the heat,
Munnar carries that history
In its architecture, its roads.
Not loud, but present.
Of Tea and the Hands That Make It
Lockhart Tea Estate, established in 1879, is one of Munnar’s oldest surviving plantations. The on-site guided tour allows visitors to witness and understand how tea is actually made. The wooden flooring and machinery quietly tell centuries of stories of the colonial past, migrant roots, and resilient labour.
The hills in Munnar are quilted with tea gardens.
Perfect rows. Endless green.
Looking like little, spongy clouds.
Surreal in their presence.
But behind this beauty
Are stories steeped in toil.
Tamil migrants, generations ago,
crossed hills for work.
Many never went back.
They settled and flourished.
And called Munnar their home.
Today, women form the backbone
of these plantations.
Bent backs, nimble fingers,
plucking leaves that brew our luxury.
Their laughter still rings through the fog.
Resilient. Rhythmic.
Like the land.
Strong like the evening tea we enjoy in our breaks.
The High Range Club: A Glimpse into the Past
The High Range Club
The High Range Club - a Planter's Club - was started in the year 1905, with a loan of Rs. 2500/- from the erstwhile Kanan Devan Hills Produce Co. Ltd., for the gentlemen planters of the High Range in Kerala. In the year 1909, the High Range Club was formally set up with furniture and fixtures, and was completed in 1910. It was one of the first planter’s clubs to be electrified and one of the few clubs to be built as a residential club.
I had the privilege of staying in a 100+ year old Bungalow.
The High Range Club.
Wood-panelled walls, a golf course.
And evenings surrounded by stories of our past.
Colonial in its bones
To ignore it would be erasure.
To understand it is to learn
How stories shape and save places.
We must know.
We must remember.
The New Luxury: To be able to afford ‘leisurely walks’.
Walking through Munnar,
I felt something I didn’t know I missed.
Space.
Stillness.
A skyline that isn’t concrete.
The luxury of looking far.
Of breathing deep.
Nature doesn’t rush you.
It invites you to pause.
Slow, Sustainable Travel
Sustainable travel isn’t about
bamboo toothbrushes and jute bags alone.
It’s in the act of staying.
Asking questions.
Learning names.
Tasting stories.
It’s knowing that a place
is more than a checklist.
It’s a living, breathing being.
And you’re a guest.
It’s about stories.
Their stories, from their mouths.
It’s about seeing people,
beyond the people that surround us.
As humans.
Complex Humans.
Made of sweat, blood and bones.
As valuable as yours and mine.
Onward, with Heart
As I pack up and move
towards the next journey,
I carry Munnar with me.
In all its glory and chequered past.
Its mist. Its memories.
Its people.
In times like these,
When headlines spew hate
And numbers make us statistics,
We must return
to what’s real.
To each other.
To stories.
To names.
Here’s to travel.
Not just to see,
But to immerse.
To know.
