Nakshathra Mana, the death of 5-star resorts and the changing face of luxury travel.

I had said last year that I feel that large resort hotels are like dinosaurs. I always stay at a 5 star when I visit a city on business, ideally the Oberoi/Trident/Taj. But it has been years since I stayed at a large hotel when on a vacation and I am clear that I will not do so again unless it’s the Maldives. As someone who used to constantly stay at places like the Taj Village in Goa or the Ayana at Bali with its many pools and 13 restaurants, this is a significant change. I think the Ayana may have actually been the last time I stayed at a large resort or it may have been the Taj in Madikeri, all the way back in 2018, and both those stays convinced me that I can think of few worse ways to experience a place. 

Let me list just a few reasons why.

You don’t really interact with local people or engage with local culture except in a voyeuristic, transactional way. 

Even when there are local staff you’re just one of hundreds of guests being looked after by hundreds of employees and you rarely see the same person more than once or twice. 

You will never taste the best local food in the confines of a resort. 

Every hotel looks and feels the same, from the breakfast buffets to the local “colour”. You may as well go to the JW Marriott in Juhu. 

And oh the large swimming pools filled with screaming kids and (to quote my wife) “men who wear too little and women who wear too much”.

I know that there may be people who enjoy the company of men in skin coloured underwear briefs shouting “oye beer piyega?” at each other but as someone who doesn’t, I really felt that I needed to find a better way to travel, a better way to stay, a way that nourished my soul. I started with Air B and Bs but I do like my creature comforts and don’t want to spend a holiday doing housework. So over the last few years when I travel, I stay either at smaller, boutique (but not basic) hotels or private villas. This has led to some very special, memorable vacations. From Sinna Durai at Valparai to Crepe Ginger at Chikmagalur to Nirvana by the Sea in Goa, these have been among the best holidays I’ve ever had. The sense of privacy, escape, intimacy and luxury is something that no resort can replicate, regardless of how many private villas they have or how high the thread count is in their linen. 

Last month however, I went and spent 3 nights at what is probably the single most special place I’ve stayed in yet. Nakshathra Mana isn’t open to the public yet, but I know the owners and they invited me to stay and share my feedback since they are thinking of occasionally and selectively giving it out to guests this year. When I returned, my exact words to them were “I honestly don’t know why you invited me. You have thought of every single thing possible. I cannot imagine a more perfect getaway. This is the kind of place that movie stars and CEO’s from across the world will travel to in order to escape from the realities of life. So I have no feedback. All I can say is thank you.. from the bottom of my heart”. 

Nakshathra Mana is located in the tiny village of Poothotta, close to Kochi but well away from the tourist hub of Alappuzha. It isn’t a hotel but the private home of Sneha Iype and Prakash Varma of Nirvana Productions which is India’s most successful ad film production house (they are the guys behind the iconic Vodafone pug ads). Maybe it’s the eye for detail that comes from years of working on award winning films with a reputation for visual brilliance, but Sneha has always had the most extraordinary taste. Their home in Bangalore is stunning… light-filled indoor spaces high up in the sky where the art on the walls blends seamlessly with artefacts from a life rich in memories. 

Nakshathra Mana started out as just a whimsical idea, that of building a dream house back in their home state of Kerala, an idyllic retreat for themselves and their children. A place that captured the essence of the Kerala they knew, of small villages and warmth and community, of great food and fresh produce, of a syncretic culture, of the Kerala that existed and still exists when you go down the path less trodden, a Kerala that is unpackaged and unvarnished, a Kerala that is a living, breathing people, living in communion with the land and the water. But they also wanted the home to represent who they are as individuals and as a family, showcasing not just their their roots but also their individual selves and their personalities, from the books they read to the art they love to the ways in which they spend time as a family and that give them joy. 

Last year this whimsical idea came to life in the most breathtaking form, in a home that is so beautiful and soulful and unimaginably perfect that I feel the need to keep going back there again and again and again. I don’t have the gift of expression to describe the visual beauty of the home so I will let the photos do the talking for me. But it’s about much more than just the beauty. It is the attention to every single detail, every possible thought that is staggering. I suppose it’s because the family used it as a home for a lot of the last year, working and editing films and attending school but it anticipates anything you may want to do and provides for it. So if you wanted to find a little nook to read in the shade, you’ll find a discreet fan to keep you cool. If you want to work on your laptop next to the lily pond, you’ll find a well disguised charging point and high speed internet. If you want to have a cup of tea by the backwaters, there are benches at every point where you may want to sit and take in the view, or if you prefer to read, there is an elevated shed with a bed and cushions where you can lie back or even doze off if you choose to, while the water laps the shore and the brahmini kites traverse the blue sky above. 

Every single detail has a thought behind it. I realised that the toilet paper holders looked really nice, like some sort of antique. I looked it up and realised they are sold through a specific outlet in the UK. Or in another example, if you sit in the patio in the evening and want a bit of light, the floor lights have a little stone frog figurine to stop the light from hitting your eyes directly, letting it bounce off the wall and diffuse instead. This level of detail is astonishing, something I have never seen in any hotel anywhere in the world. 

While the home can accommodate 8-10 people it feels like it allows for you to have privacy and solitude, place to breathe on your own, as well as spaces to come together as a group or family. All the rooms have their own private sit out areas in addition to the many little nooks and corners where you can get away. At mealtimes you can sit at the dining table next to the courtyard, while the team prepares your food in the adjoining open kitchen. Or you can sit barefoot at the outdoor dining area, letting your feet sink into soft white sand. Or just laze by the fresh water pool, next to a stream, overlooking the garden and the lake, with lily pools on two sides and a wide deck on the other. And of course the deck has different kinds of seats depending on what you feel like, from the classic poolside decks to more comfortable couches to sit around or even seats where you can sit and work. I guess you need a range of seating because unlike a hotel this is a pool where you can spend all day and night. Not just because it’s not a hotel pool with limited timings but because this is Kerala and so the water is always pleasant all through the day. So whether you like your early sunrises or endless moonlit conversations, it’s always a good time to get into the pool where Rahul and his team will get you a cold beer or your evening drink with some local snacks anytime you want. 

And when it’s afternoon, a boat comes to your back garden (literally) and takes you to the verdant world of Vembanad lake and its backwaters. And like everything at Nakshatra Mana, this isn’t the standard houseboat ride looking at scenery and a hundred other houseboats. This is a part of Kerala that is “uncurated” (side note: I detest “curated” experiences. They are inauthentic by definition). People live and work by the water, and what you experience on that boat is life as it is lived. Groups of men and women on boats heading home after work, 70 year old muttassis (grandmothers) paddling canoes to go visit a friend, people bathing and children swimming and women washing clothes, pounding them on stones flattened and smoothened by the drifting of time and water. Stumbling across a toddy tapper who is happy to show you how he taps his toddy and drinking fresh toddy tapped in the morning so it still has a hint of sweetness. And birds skimming across the lake..black cormorants and blue kingfishers and great white storks diving for fish and sending silvery green ripples across the water to you. 

And then when you finally head back, you come home to a feast. The food has been put together by another friend of Sneha’s, the chef Abraham Jacob, who has spent months finding and training local cooks so that instead of a menu, what you get is a genie who can make all your food dreams come true. From duck mappas and beef idy erachi, to a range of chammandhis, pachadis and pulisherrys, biryanis and Avial and Thoran and fresh Karimeen and appams and stew, the food is as authentically Malayalee as it gets, and represents the diversity and syncretism of the state and it’s people as well as the richness of its natural bounty. And yes, the team can serve you your pastas and other western dishes (what else do you expect from a genie?) but I don’t understand why anyone would have a single non Malayalee meal when you can have it cooked fresh with such skill and authenticity. 

And finally the staff. All the staff is local, from the district (many from the village of Poothotta) and they could teach hotel staff a lot about how to be warm and helpful without being fake or intrusive. I told Sneha that she was blessed to find Rahul who manages the home. Although he is actually a trained hospitality person, he has a passion for his culture that manifests itself in knowledge, helpfulness and a wonderful pride in being able to show his guests his state through his eyes. He anticipates every need including whether you need a garnish for your gin or a wedge of lime for your corona. He can name every bird you see. He can talk to you about every dish you eat. He can talk to you about the recent floods or how covid has impacted the community or he can take you to the local toddy shop and tell you what to eat. Rahul and I are still in touch. He wished me on Christmas and I wished him on New Years. Now ask yourself when was the last time you did that with someone you met at a resort. 

Many years ago the Economic Times interviewed me about luxury and asked me to name what possessions epitomised luxury to me. They got flustered when I didn’t mention my car or my watches or the art we have or any designer clothes or anything material but spoke of restaurants and travel. Over time I’ve seen more and more people speak about how the real luxury we have is time, which is an improvement but still feels both glib and incomplete. 

What is important is not time but what we do with it. The ability to create a moment or a memory that makes you feel happy and fulfilled and complete, where a part of you is consciously aware of the beauty of the moment and grateful for it and the people you share it with. To experience that is a gift. That is luxury. That is a blessing. 

But sometimes, very rarely, you go beyond that. Where there isn’t a part of you that is aware of the moment because all of you is in the moment. Where there is no world to escape from and no thoughts to go back to. Where all that is real is how you feel, a feeling of love and gratitude and joy. Sitting in the pool at Nakshatra Mana on that moonlit night with the person I love, that is how I felt, a feeling of peace and joy and completeness that felt perfect. 

That’s not luxury. That is transcendence.