Fenn Hall is not a hotel, it’s our home
Welcome to Fenn Hall
Welcome to Fenn Hall, the home of the Fenn family for four generations. I am your host, Mathai Fenn. Fenn Hall is in the heart of Kottayam, roughly 750 meters from the railway station and 150 meters from the Collectorate.
Book a room…
If you are travelling solo or with your immediate family, you can still enjoy the ambience of Fenn Hall. Discounts for long-stay.
Choose your room..
Quiet Corner:Is our budget room. It has independent access, privacy, coffee/tea making in the room, soap towel, Cable TV, Wi-Fi and Air-conditioning (optional)
Golden Pond: Is our superior room. It includes all the amenities of the Quiet Corner plus it is an integral part of the traditional house. It has optional access to the living room, dining and kitchen areas.
Book the entire house…
Whether it be a wedding or a film shoot or even a group of friends travelling together, book the entire house to yourself.
Golden Pond:
Fenn Hall is not a hotel. It is a living, breathing home in the heart of Kottayam, inhabited by four generations of the Fenn family. Built in 1942, it was never meant to impress—it was meant to hold life gently. And it still does.
Scroll down to read more…
Contact us
- Shyja is our manager. She manages the operations of the homestay. You can call her or WhatsApp her on +91 88914 29845 , or call on our landline.. 0481-2562822
- You can also contact me, Mathai on +91 9980051414
Scan this code to send Shyja a WhatsApp Message
Finding Fenn Hall
- To find our location, check out Fenn Hall on Google Maps.
- To view us on google business, click here
- Once you reach the front of the Collectorate, use this video to reach Fenn Hall.
More about Fenn Hall
Fenn Hall is not a house that announces itself. It sits quietly in the heart of Kottayam, shaded by old trees and softened by the passing of time. It’s red oxide floors are worn smooth by barefoot generations, its walls thick with the breath of monsoon seasons and the murmur of unhurried days. The house is not symmetrical, nor is it showy—but it possesses a quiet dignity, the kind that comes from having been lived in deeply and without interruption.
Built in 1942 by my grandfather so that his wife could live beside her sister, Fenn Hall was never meant to impress. It was meant to hold life gently. And it has. My father, the much-loved psychiatrist Dr. Baker Fenn, lived here and worked here. I live here now. So does memory. So does laughter. So do long silences that feel like rest.
Each room has its own temperament. The long corridor echoes like a string pulled taut across the years. The front verandah is a threshold between the world and something slower, more rooted. The light changes subtly as the day advances, pooling in the corners in the late afternoon like stories waiting to be told.
Nothing in the house is perfect, and that is its strength. We embrace the beauty of Wabi-Sabi—the chipped edge of a teacup, the sun-faded print of a curtain, the table that has hosted more meals than can be remembered.
This is a home. It continues to grow around us, carrying our voices, our rituals, and our quiet faith in slow living.
