Chinese fishing nets at Kumbalangi, where a centuries-old fishing tradition continues as part of Keralam’s coastal heritage. Photo / Annabel Reid
What happens when you throw a rookie traveller into the hot, humid streets of Kochi, India? For Annabel Reid, the revelations come thick and fast.
For a group of people who had never visited India, my friends and family sure had a long list of warnings to share before I departed.
People will take photos of you. You’ll get stared at and harassed. Have you started taking probiotics yet? The pollution will make it hard to breathe. Don’t eat the street food. Don’t drink the water. You’re not travelling there alone as a 23-year-old woman, are you? Aren’t you scared?
I started to wonder what exactly I’d signed myself up for. I had never travelled farther than Melbourne, and now I was flying halfway across the world to a region in India many travellers never venture to.
My time in Kochi in the southwest Indian state of Keralam was proof you shouldn’t judge a destination on anxious rumours.
Seventeen hours after farewelling the naysayers, I arrived in darkness but certainly not the cold. At 11pm, temperatures in Kochi sat in the mid-20s, with humidity hovering around 70%. It was the end of winter and locals later told me the humidity wasn’t standard for the time of year.
An hour’s drive to my accommodation offered my first glimpse of Kochi. Roadside stalls were open and locals moved purposefully through the streets where faded advertisements layered across walls and buildings in a collage.
My taxi driver, Abhijith P B, honked as he slipped past a police car in a way that would certainly earn a fine in New Zealand, before pulling right up behind a scooter and blasting his full beam. The beeping wasn’t aggressive, but part of the rhythm of the road as drivers moved with a chaotic confidence that somehow created a working system. No one was remotely fazed.
Abhijith remained silent, as he had for the entire journey, until I handed him the 200 Indian rupees my colleague had given me, leftover from his own trip to India. Considering that was the first time I saw Abhijith smile, I took it as confirmation the tip had been acceptable. Tipping in India – where expectations can vary depending on the situation – remained an etiquette I never quite figured out during the trip.
My accommodation, the five-star Taj Malabar Resort & Spa, sat on Willingdon Island, a man-made island created in the 1930s during the development of Kochi’s port. The next morning, I set off for Fort Kochi. It was a 20-minute drive away, so naturally I opted for a tuk-tuk – partly for convenience, mostly because I had never been on one.
We were heading towards Forte Kochi on the iconic Princess St – emphasis on the e, not to be confused with the area itself. The heritage hotel had been saved in my TikTok bookmarks and fortunately, committed to memory as well, given the app is banned in India. I would later dine at its Jetty restaurant, but the architecture alone drew me there – first on my phone screen and then in real life, where it didn’t disappoint.
In the vicinity, scooters rested beneath enormous banyan trees while colonial-era buildings and bungalows lined the narrow roads. Bougainvillea spilled over balconies, murals stretched across long walls, and stray dogs and goats dozed in patches of shade along the footpaths. You only need to walk around Forte Kochi to discover Fort Kochi.
I wandered into Aambal Eco clothing store, drawn in by a rack of recycled dresses - the shopping was excellent. I had three waiting in the changing room when one of the shop owners asked if she could see one on. Not unusual. She then asked if she could take a photo. I didn’t mind. When she started directing how I should pose, I couldn’t help but laugh. Technically, my friends’ warning that people might want photos of me had come true, just not quite in the way they imagined.
Traders from Portugal, the Netherlands and Britain once passed through this port during the spice trade, I was later told during a tour, leaving behind an architectural patchwork that makes wandering the streets feel like peeling back layers of history.
Cafes often doubled as galleries. Paintings lined the walls, sculptures filled courtyards and travellers lingered over their drinks while artists and locals drifted in and out. Much of that creative energy has been fuelled by the Kochi-Muziris Biennale - India’s largest contemporary art festival – which has helped transform the neighbourhood into one of the country’s most vibrant arts districts. It’s a multi-month event, this year spanning from December 12, 2025 – March 31, 2026.
I stopped by Kashi Art Cafe, David Hall Art Cafe, and Lila Art Cafe – the latter becoming my personal favourite thanks to a delicious prawn moilee.
A short walk later, I reached the Arabian Sea, the perfect place to watch the sun sink red into the horizon and home to Fort Kochi’s famous Chinese fishing nets.
The next day, I saw the nets up close, in Kumbalangi – India’s first model ecotourism village, designed to show how tourism can support traditional livelihoods while protecting the fragile backwater ecosystem.
I climbed into a long wooden boat and drifted through the backwaters as fishermen balanced on narrow canoes and the nets lifted slowly from the water.
On land, I sipped fresh coconut water while locals twisted coconut husk into coir rope, split shells for cooking and wove palm leaves into baskets and mats, showing onlookers how coconut milk is made.
I boarded a larger houseboat-style vessel before sunrise the next day, cruising slowly through the calm backwaters as the first light of day reflected off the water. The boat reached a broad meeting point where the waterways linking Kochi, Alappuzha and Kottayam converge. A traditional Ayurveda massage – an ancient Indian wellness practice centred on restoring balance to the body – was booked for when I returned, leaving me incredibly relaxed as I headed out again that evening for a tour.
This time I was walking through Jew Town in nearby Mattancherry. Antique shops spill onto the streets with old carvings, brass trinkets and dusty vintage finds. The air carried the scent of spices, perfume oils and incense drifting from open doorways. At the IRS Perfume Factory, staff proudly pointed out what they claim is the world’s largest perfume bottle and a giant incense stick said to burn for more than a month. At the end of the street sat the 16th-century Paradesi Synagogue, built for Kochi’s once-thriving Jewish community.
India’s famous Golden Triangle route linking Delhi, Agra and Jaipur draws millions of visitors each year to landmarks such as the Taj Mahal. But further south, Kochi offers a very different experience – something fellow travellers from New Delhi told me felt worlds away from the India they knew.
In 2026, travellers are increasingly looking beyond simply ticking off landmarks or following classic tourist routes, as confirmed by Booking.com’s Travel Predictions 2026 report, which found accommodation searches for Kochi rose 30% year-on-year.
The report ranked Kochi sixth among the most-searched Indian destinations by Asia-Pacific travellers, highlighting the city’s growing appeal among visitors seeking cultural connection, slower travel and experiences rooted in local life. Myself included.
The state of Keralam of which Kochi is part of, was the only Indian destination to feature among the report’s Top 10 Trending Destinations for 2026, alongside international hotspots such as Mui Ne in Vietnam and Port Douglas in Australia.
It was easy to understand why, after four days wandering its historic streets, drifting through backwaters and meeting the people who shape the city’s culture. Kochi wasn’t the place I had been warned about.
The journalist travelled courtesy of Booking.com.
Annabel Reid is a multimedia journalist for the Bay of Plenty Times and Rotorua Daily Post, based in Rotorua. Originally from Hawke’s Bay, she has a Bachelor of Communications from the University of Canterbury.