The roads were sparse, narrow, and not at all conducive to a car of the girth and sheer presence of the Santa Fe, but with the steering as light as it is, manoeuvrability within even a small town like Kanyakumari was not much of a problem. The beach, when we got there, was spectacular! Clean, pristine, breathtaking – the way the sunlight played off the deep blue sea, the contrast of white and dark sand, a sea bird flying by with a trill and a flutter – the very embodiment of the word ‘serenity’. After having our fill of that postcard moment, we moved on. Next stop: Thekkady, a hill station in Kerala.
With our smart phones charged and navigation apps pulled up, we were ready for the journey to finally begin. The route we picked out to help us traverse the distance between Kanyakumari and Thekkady was a Pandora’s box of scenic locations. Straight off the bat were the wind farms. As soon as we exited Kanyakumari, there were these massive windmills that even managed to dwarf the imposing figure that is the Santa Fe, and they weren’t just one or two either, but hundreds upon hundreds of windmills dotting the landscape on either side for as far as the eye could see. No one can accuse the State of Tamil Nadu of suffering from power shortage after witnessing that particular sight. An accusation, I soon found out, that can’t be levelled at the Santa Fe either.
As soon as we hit the windmill-flanked highway, I floored the accelerator to see what it was capable of, and for a car its size, the Santa Fe can go pretty fast. When you put the pedal to the metal, there’s the minutest delay, a half-a-second to catch your breath before the turbocharger kicks in and that 2.2-litre diesel engine roars into life. It evokes echoes of a raging bull, pawing at the ground one last time before it charges full pelt.
