Temples are what the state of Tamil Nadu, on the eastern side of India’s southern tip, promises visitors: some of the oldest and most celebrated Hindu temples in the country.

And these temples are indeed wonderful in their variety, from the ancient stone excavated example at Mamallapuram, now a monument rather than a temple, with its giant three-dimensional carving of an elephant which pilgrims from all over India come to visit, to the buzzing Sri Meenakshi temple in the charming city of Madurai, where the resident elephant is very much alive and – for a few rupees – will bless you by fondly resting his trunk on your head.

Then there is my particular favourite, the often-overlooked Airavatesvara temple, which dates back to the 12th century, in what is now an out-of-the-way little town called Dharasuram. It is a magical place, its courtyard surrounded by high walls topped with a procession of miniature bulls. The temple itself contains countless columns, each carved with tiny religious scenes that seem impossible in their intricate beauty.

We were at Airavatesvara as the sun set, the place utterly peaceful and entirely our own; it was one of those moments that the very best holiday throws up, its pinch-yourself magic never to be forgotten.

When we left the quiet confines of the temple, though, frenetic small-town Indian life reasserted itself, as giggling school girls piled into a bus, each of them with a long chain of jasmine threaded through her ponytail (symbolic of chastity), and a man ironed his way through a pile of shirts, his ironing “board” the top of a wooden cart, the iron itself of the hot-coals variety that wouldn’t look out of place in Downton Abbey. It was one of those time-travel moments in which India specialises – a dose of the 19th century wrapped in the 21st.

Because, of course, Tamil Nadu is about so much more than temples. We had come for the guidebook sights, but we ended up being at least as seduced by the chaotic everyday life, a place where three rush-hour lanes of cars come to a halt to let a wooden oxen cart pass, where a bricklayer balances 15 bricks on his head – yes, 15 – and still gives you a smile and a wave, where, at Madurai’s famous flower market, the cross-legged men, who spend countless hours a day intricately threading rose petals and jasmine buds into wedding necklaces, wave you over, laughing, and insist on presenting you with a rose.

It’s a place where the glorious craziness spills over even into the temples themselves. There was one day in particular that I shall never forget, when our trusty driver Rajesh, sensing we were up for the unusual, took us to a temple where you see only locals, no tourists. It was a Friday, a particularly spiritual day for Hindus. In the streets outside, two men wearing papier-mâché cow costumes were dancing wildly to the music of a pipe and drum band.

Inside, the temple proved an architectural nonentity, but in every other way it was remarkable. People were queuing to sacrifice their hair, either to give thanks to the gods or to invoke their help. A phalanx of barbers were nonchalantly removing waterfalls of long black tresses from women, and dealing with fidgety toddlers without the slightest trouble.

The sandalwood covered pates of those who had already given their hair were everywhere to be seen, many of them now queuing to enter the inner sanctum of the temple. Sometimes in that same queue a woman who had been fasting – another religious practice that a woman may undertake occasionally during her lifetime – would suddenly start flailing and speaking in tongues, her relatives gathering round her in the belief that she was speaking the words of their particular family god.

Elsewhere, there was another queue, this one of goats decorated with garlands of flowers, oblivious to the sad fact that their lives were about to come to a sudden sacrificial end in a bloodstained corner of one of the temple’s courtyards.

Did you know?

In 2004 Tamil became the first Indian language to be given classical language status



It was time for some peace again. We headed to the rural area of Chettinad, which comprises 75 villages scattered over around nine square miles. We knew we were staying in a hotel called the Visalam in the village of Karaikudi. What we were not expecting as we bumped our way along country roads was to find ourselves in a fantasia of Thirties-style glamour, an airy Art Deco mansion worthy of a silent movie star.

It was a stunning place to stay, with its central courtyard, its monochrome tiled floors and its elaborately carved teak doors and granite pillars (not to mention one of the loveliest swimming pools I have ever seen in India). What made the place all the more remarkable was that it was situated in the middle of a typically ramshackle Indian village, like an ocean-going liner that had somehow ended up docked in the wrong harbour.

The beach at Mamallapuram

Except on closer inspection it wasn’t alone: tucked away on other back streets were more vast mansions, some of them Art Deco masterpieces, others baroque in style and covered in over-the-top flourishes (urns and statuettes galore); all of them – in marked contrast to the spick and span Visalam – in various stages of decay.

Driving through other villages in Chettinad revealed that these architectural baubles were far from unusual. At the turn of the last century the Chettiar subcaste was highly successful at business and banking across Asia – from Burma to Sri Lanka – and sent its fortunes back to its homeland in order to construct these remarkable palaces.

The only thing that concerned the Chettiars as much as their homes was their food, and Chettinad cuisine is becoming increasingly famous throughout India. Most celebrated of all is the food at the Bangala, an old gentlemen’s club that now has rooms. Here I was served one of the best lunches of my life.

Arrayed on the traditional banana leaf, pepper chicken, tomato prawns, pomegranate raita, two sorts of mango chutney (sweet and spicy), and half a dozen other exotic delicacies besides.

Airavatesvara temple

We fell in love with Tamil Nadu over the course of our trip. Like that gloriously belly-busting lunch, it offered us a surfeit of treats. Most beguiling of all was that its wealth of architecture and history was not accompanied by the kind of tourist maelstrom that forms an inescapable part of a visit to some of India’s more well-known regions; also, that its people were some of the warmest and most laid back I have met on the continent. When we left Tamil Nadu we left a part of our hearts behind us.

GETTING THERE

British Airways (0844 493 0787; ba.com) flies direct from London Heathrow to Chennai (formerly Madras) five times a week; from £571 return.

Packages

I travelled with Steppes Travel (01285 651010; steppestravel.co.uk) which offers a 15-day tour of Tamil Nadu (including four nights on the beach in neighbouring Kerala) from £2,995 per person, including b & b accommodation, international and domestic flights, chauffeur-driven transport and local guides.

GETTING AROUND

Hiring a car and driver is surprisingly reasonable and the only sensible way to navigate Tamil Nadu’s chaotic cities and off-the-beaten track countryside if you are short of time. I recommend Banyan Tours (banyantours.com or email info@banyantours.com). If you are travelling at a more leisurely pace and sticking to the cities, then you can make the most of the excellent rail network. Contact Shankar Dandapani at SD Enterprises, who represents Indian Railways in the UK (020 8903 3411; indiarail.co.uk).

WHEN TO GO

Tamil Nadu gets stiflingly hot in summer, and humidity can be overwhelming from March to October, so stick to the cooler, calmer months of November to February.

THE INSIDE TRACK

Culturally speaking, Tamil Nadu has an embarrassment of riches. Its most famous temples – all of them remarkable, and with something different to offer – include Mamallapuram and Kancheepuram near Chennai, the Brihadeeswarar in Tanjore, the Meenakshi in Madurai. We fell in love with the small but perfectly formed Airavatesvara in Dharasuram.

Don’t miss the enchanting Chettinad district, with its stunning dilapidated mansions and delicious cuisine. This area also boasts a fantastic antiques street in Karaikudi, which has wonderful carved figures and great furniture. Another good local purchase is the brightly coloured woven cottons; you will find the best range at Sri Mahalakshmi handloom weaving centre (K.M. Street, Kanadukathan; 0091 4565 273286).

The former French colony of Pondicherry is fascinating as well as beguilingly pretty. When you have tired of walking its French-named streets then visit nearby Auroville, an international commune with a strange line in space-age architecture.

Although Chennai is the region’s biggest city and not without its charms, there is little reason to stay long. Plan on spending a few days in Madurai, however. Aside from the Meenakshi temple, don’t miss the flower market (mountains of roses and tuberose), the banana market (which sells 15 varieties) and the tailors’ market located in an old temple (where you can get a shirt run up in the shadow of a giant statue of a Hindu god).

A short internal flight away is one of the loveliest beach hotels in the whole of India, the quietly chic Neeleshwar Hermitage (467 228 7510; neeleshwarhermitage.com; double rooms from £118) in undiscovered northern Kerala. The seafood is delicious and the beach deserted. The hour-and-a-half flight from Madurai or Chennai to nearby Mangalore costs from £50 (spicejet.com).

THE BEST HOTELS

Indeco hotel, Swamimalai ££

A restored 19th-century village, this charming vegetarian hotel near the city of Tanjore (famous for its vast temple) is decorated in indigenous style (87544 19618; indecohotels.com/swamimalai.html; doubles from £60).

Maison Perumal, Pondicherry £

This lovely old antique-filled town house is the perfect base for exploring the fascinating former French colony of Pondicherry. The staff are quite ridiculously friendly (413 222 7519; cghearth.com; doubles from £85).

Visalam, Karaikudi, Chettinad £

A very special hotel in a very special region. The swimming pool, surrounded by flowering trees and climber-covered walls, is absolutely gorgeous (4565 273301; cghearth.com; doubles from £85).

THE BEST RESTAURANTS

Raintree, Taj Connemara, Chennai £

Well-heeled locals swear this is the best place in the city to eat south Indian cuisine. Despite its hotel location, it is certainly one of the most atmospheric, reached through the lovely gardens down a pathway flanked by stone pillars and oil lamps. The signature pepper chicken is outstanding. Typically around £15 a head (44 6600 0000).

The Bangala, Karaikudi, Chettinad £

A meal at the Bangala is foodie heaven. Some of the most exciting cooking southern India has to offer (44 2493 4851).

Famous Jigarthanda, Kamaraj Salai, Kila Marret Street, Madurai £

You cannot visit the city of Madurai without trying jigarthanda, the nectar-like local drink made of jaggery (rice jelly), cardamom, milk and sugar. Its name means “heart cooler”, and it is utterly delicious. The competition is stiff but locals insist this establishment is the best in the city.

WHAT TO AVOID

Most Tamils are vegetarian so for the freshest – and best – food, eat the way they do and avoid meat. That said, the Chettinad pepper chicken (see below) is not to be missed. Locals will usually offer “less spicy” versions of local dishes but in fact the spice level is not high for Britons used to curry.

Even in the cooler months, Tamil Nadu can be oppressively hot. So it’s a good idea to try to avoid sightseeing in the middle of the day, and don’t go out without sunscreen, a hat and a bottle of water.

The number of hawkers outside temples are tiny compared with elsewhere in India, but if you don’t want to buy, the same survival tactics apply: don’t even glance at the goods on offer, avoid eye contact, say nothing and keep walking.

Great as the city of Madurai is, it has a big mosquito problem. So to avoid being bitten, cover up all day – the mozzies start lunching around the same time we do – and use a repellent that is strong enough for the tropics. Mosquitoes can even bite through fine cotton but thick linen should thwart them.