Vallam Kali Experience

Rowing not just to win – but to remember, to honor, to belong

In the heart of Kerala’s backwaters, where the monsoon sky hangs heavy and the waters shimmer with anticipation, drums begin to roll. Then, slicing through the stillness, a majestic serpent-like boat surges forward—its hull kissed by rhythmic oars, its crew roaring chants in perfect unison. This is not just a race. It is a river ritual, a festival of fierce pride and timeless grace. Welcome to Vallam Kali—Kerala’s legendary Snake Boat Race.

With Ekathra, this isn’t merely an event to spectate. It’s an invitation to feel the heartbeat of Kerala’s riverine communities—to stand on the banks beside cheering villagers, to sit in on a boat crew’s evening vanchipattu rehearsal, to understand what it means to be part of a tradition where every drop of sweat tells a story of unity, resilience, and shared purpose.

Each chundan vallam—snake boat—stretches a hundred feet or more, carved from a single jackfruit tree and polished with black fish oil to glide like poetry. These boats, symbols of craftsmanship and collective will, are manned by 64 to 128 rowers. Preparations begin months in advance in riverbank villages where men train daily, elders recite ancient chants, and women prepare meals to fuel the team. The financial investment is immense—some boats are backed by communities pooling ₹60 lakhs or more—but the emotional investment runs far deeper. For these villages, winning is honor. Participating is sacred.

Traveling with Ekathra, you visit these communities before the race days. You watch as boats are lowered into the water with ceremonial offerings, and join the villagers in evening prayers for victory. You learn the meaning of vanchipattu, the traditional boat song believed to synchronize the oars and spirits of the rowers. Sometimes, if you’re lucky, an old man will recite a verse by Ramapurathu Warrier, the revered poet of the boat song tradition, under a canopy of stars.

You witness the grandeur of races like the Nehru Trophy Boat Race on Punnamada Lake, the mystical Aranmula Uthrattathi Vallamkali with its spiritual undertones, or the vibrant Gothuruth and Kumarakom races where folk culture and competition entwine seamlessly. Each race has its own flavor—some fiercely competitive, others deeply ritualistic. But all share a single river of purpose: community, celebration, and continuity.

Back on shore, you share a meal prepared by local families—perhaps a simple kanji and meen curry, perhaps a grander feast laid out for race day. Your presence contributes not only to their income, but to their pride. Tourism becomes not intrusion, but inclusion.

Here, the boat isn’t just wood and oars. It is an emblem of togetherness, of Kerala’s intimate bond with its rivers and its rhythms. With Ekathra, you don’t just watch the race—you feel the spray, hear the war cry, and carry a part of the river with you long after the drums have faded.

Valla Sadya

Where devotion arrives by boat, and gratitude is served on a leaf

In the sacred village of Aranmula, where the Pampa River flows like a silken thread through stories of devotion and valor, something extraordinary unfolds each year—a celebration where boats become offerings, songs become prayers, and a meal becomes a divine communion. This is Valla Sadya, and with Ekathra, you are invited not just to witness it, but to be embraced by its sacred rhythm.

On the auspicious day of Ashtami Rohini—believed to mark the birth of Lord Krishna—the temple town comes alive in a spiritual crescendo. Oarsmen from nearby villages arrive in their beautifully adorned snake boats, gliding across the Pampa in a slow, graceful procession. They row not for victory but for devotion, singing vanchi pattu—soulful boat songs echoing centuries of reverence. As they reach the temple ghat, they step ashore barefoot, carrying nirapara—offering-filled measures of paddy—to the golden flagstaff at the entrance of the Parthasarathy Temple.

Ekathra offers travelers a front-row passage into this world of ritual and community, not as tourists, but as respectful participants. You stand among the villagers as the oarsmen chant in unison, their voices blending with the temple bells and drumbeats. You witness the uccha pooja, the sacred midday worship, as the deity is honored and the air thickens with incense and anticipation.

Then comes the heart of the celebration—the Sadya, a vegetarian feast like no other. Traditionally laid out on banana leaves, this meal is not mere sustenance but a sacred offering. On regular days, it features 10 to 20 dishes crafted from recipes steeped in Ayurvedic wisdom. But on Ashtami Rohini, the feast expands into a grand spectacle with 64 exquisite dishes—a symbolic gesture of divine hospitality. Legend holds that every dish requested by the Lord must be served without fail, making the Sadya an act of both devotion and abundance.

Through Ekathra’s curated experience, you’ll have the opportunity to understand the layers behind each ritual—the cultural roots of the vazhipadu (offering), the social harmony embedded in the feast, and the way this tradition continues to unite thousands, year after year. You might even find yourself serving the Sadya alongside local families or joining in the chants, your voice carried by the same river winds that once echoed with myth.

As the feast concludes and the oarsmen return to their boats, still singing praises of Parthasarathy, what remains is a profound sense of belonging—to a tradition that feeds the spirit as much as the body.