There are beaches you sunbathe on, and then there’s Varkala — where the land ends not in sand, but in soaring red cliffs that fall dramatically into the endless blue of the Arabian Sea.
Varkala doesn’t shout for attention like Goa or crowd you like Kovalam. It’s quieter, more spiritual — the kind of place where the day begins with a silent yoga session on the cliffside and ends with the sun melting into the horizon to the sound of temple bells and acoustic guitars.
Walking the cliff path, every turn reveals something new — local fishermen hauling in their day’s catch, monks in orange robes gazing at the sea, street cafés offering fresh seafood and banana pancakes, or shops selling handmade silver jewelry and books on Ayurveda. The breeze always carries a hint of salt and sandalwood.
But the beach below? That’s where time truly slows. A long stretch of golden sand cradled by high cliffs, Varkala Beach is known not just for its beauty but also its energy. The waters here are believed to be holy — washing away sins and worries in every wave. Locals call it Papanasam Beach, and pilgrims bathe here with the same reverence as travelers swimming for joy.
And when the tide is low, tiny natural springs bubble up from the cliffs — sweet water flowing into salt, like the two worlds of Varkala itself: spiritual and sensual, ancient and now.
Whether you’re watching para-gliders float silently above the cliffs, sipping chai at a sea-facing café, or meditating at the edge of the world — Varkala makes you feel lighter. Like you’ve dropped something heavy at the shoreline and walked away without it.
There are many beaches in India, but few like this. Few that make you feel like you’ve stepped off the map and into a softer version of reality.