June is the worst time to visit a beach in Kerala. But I'm not amused by cold facts.

We are in the second week of June, and the great Indian summer is reluctantly bowing out. The mighty southwest monsoon that would bring incessant rainfall across Kerala was supposed to make it to the mainland in the first week of June but was kept at bay by a tantrum-throwing low-pressure system in the Arabian Sea.

As we drove to Cherai, a small but busy beach town in Central Kerala, the weather felt like a tug of war between sun and rain. I'm joined on this trip by my long-time friend Sethu G., a PR professional-turned-conservationist, now a sixty-something-day-old dad of a daughter. He is obviously overwhelmed by the baby blues.

He was part of a campaign to protect the endangered whale sharks in the Arabian Sea, went on adventure-filled trips across India's Western coast, and ventured into some of the remote islands of Lakshadweep. But now, with a hint of boredom, he admitted that he doesn't fancy the beach.

"The only reason I choose the beach is I despise mountains." He confessed.

Our destination in Cherai is a beach-facing homestay named Cherai Beach Residency. The place is a crossover between a B&B and a mini resort. It intrigued the marketing content writer in me when I found out it has an SEO-friendly name: CHERAI (the destination), BEACH (the attraction), and RESIDENCY (the hostel).

We are staying for a single night here, and our mission is pretty straightforward: we grab a couple of beers, sit on a balcony facing the beach, and judge every nasty f**king insufferable moron we know and hate.

Neatly tucked away from the busy area of the beach, Cherai Beach Residency has a downbeat vibe. The hosts are a couple, both lawyers probably in their late 50s; they share the surname Kachappilly and have proper middle names.

Ms. Kachappilly, the showrunner, is still using broken Hindi words with Malayalam to get things done with her staff - all North Indian migrant workers.

With the first spell of rain earlier in the week, the homestay is preparing to embrace the off-season. For the next three months, torrential monsoon rains would eat up the beach, exposing the granite rocks buried a few feet down in the sand.

When we arrived, the hotel staff were folding the green-coloured beach chairs. Large rectangle cushions and beach umbrellas spread out, facing the sun in the courtyard; the roof-top dining space facing the sea was closed.

Disassembled and destined to be stacked in a store room, all the paraphernalia would not see the sunlight, at least, until September, when the rains stop, flowers bloom, and the beach eventually roars its way back into life.

Things I loved about the homestay

The homestay is a two-story building with white walls and inviting crimson roof tiles. Maybe it's because of the beach or because there are few guests, but everything here moves leisurely.

There are a few tall trees in the small front yard. Two almond trees bear fruit, while the lone Beach Calophyllum spots new green shoots. A coconut palm, just like its neighbours, bends towards the beach.

One of the almond trees is in a contest against the small wall. The constant friction has developed an odd scar on the tree.

An infantry of Lobster-claws stands up to the white wall while a pink Amaryllis tries to match the aura of a Zen-like Chacrona growing in a pot.

All the rooms open to the courtyard, and only the rooms on the first floor have a sea view. Across the beautiful swimming pool is a new tower lodging people who need more privacy.

The courtyard has coconut palms, pomegranates, grape wines, and more. You can even skip the beach and read a book by the pool without being judged. BTW, they have a glass shelf housing popular titles.

Enter the sea view room on the first floor, and you get a stunning view of the Arabian Sea. The room has a nostalgic window seat and a balcony fitting two reclining chairs.

The vista sometimes is obstructed by almond tree leaves rattled by the sea wind and the buzzkill electricity cables. However, the distractions cannot stop you from enjoying a beautiful sunset or counting the fishing vessels that look like specks on the blue horizon.

This place fits you:

1. If you are looking for a decent, laid-back, and less-touristy place.

2. If you are on a solo trip.

 This place sucks:

1. If you travel with a group.

2. If you are a noisy idiot who carries a toaster-sized Bluetooth speaker and plays songs at maximum volume in public places.

3. If you are visiting when every room is booked.

Tips

1. Stray dogs are everywhere on the beach and on the road. They are friendly and non-threatening, but remember the rule: you panic, they panic.

2. There are people who come to the beach early in the morning to shit. Yep, third-world country problems. Move on.

3. There are not many restaurants around. You can order food on Swiggy, but my friend Arun, who hails from the region, warns: North Paravoor is notorious for frequent food poisoning incidents, so be careful.

Cherai Beach Residency is available to book on all popular travel sites. A sea view room would cost you around INR 3500/night.

(This is not a sponsored post)