Ajinkya’s Exciting Wayanad Trip: A Thrilllophilia Review
They say family trips are like spices—you need the right mix of ingredients to make them memorable. And if there's one thing I’ve learned from travelling with my family, it’s that the little moments—those unplanned stops and spontaneous decisions—end up being the most memorable.
Our trip to Wayanad was no exception. It wasn't just about the destination; it was about the conversations in the car, the accidental detours, the laughs, and even the complaints about the heat. It was a living, breathing adventure.
The Bumpy Ride to Adventure
It all began with a "let's just go somewhere" attitude. And so, Wayanad it was! No fancy plans, no Pinterest boards—just a family in a car, headed for an adventure. And as soon as we left the buzz of Bangalore behind, I knew we were in for something different.
The first leg of the journey to Mysore was a mix of excitement and chaos. Kids in the back seat—too many snacks, endless questions, and a constant stream of “Are we there yet?” The trip from Mysore to Coorg was a bit more peaceful, though. The landscape began changing before our eyes—the concrete jungle of the city melting away into the lush greenery of the hills.
Coorg welcomed us with cool air and the scent of fresh coffee beans in the air. But before we could even get our bags out of the car, the kids had already spotted a local vendor selling bright red chillies. "Mum! Can we try those?" they asked. I didn’t even know how to answer—how could I say no to their excitement? I don't even remember the chilli’s taste—only the burning sensation that lingered and the kids laughing uncontrollably.
And the best part? Coorg wasn’t just about the lovely waterfalls and spice plantations (although let’s be honest, they were stunning)—it was about the people. One evening, after a long day of exploring, we stumbled upon a small, family-owned restaurant. It wasn’t on any guidebooks or websites, just an unassuming little place. We walked in, and the warmth of the locals hit us like a hug.
The food—oh, the food—was bursting with flavours I hadn’t tasted before. Everything from the pepper chicken to the roti was so fresh, so unlike anything back home. We even had a small chat with the owner, who shared how the spices were grown in the very fields we’d walked through earlier.
Wayanad’s Hidden Magic
Wayanad was where the true magic happened. Waking up in the morning, the sound of birds singing outside, and the mist still clinging to the trees—it felt like we’d woken up inside a painting.
We decided to head to Pookode Lake, and while the lake was beautiful, it was the boat ride that turned it into an experience we still laugh about. The kids had convinced me (and my hesitant partner) that rowing the boat was easy. What followed was the most hilarious disaster you could imagine—us rowing in circles, trying to keep the boat from drifting into the dense reeds, and a constant chorus of "Turn left! No, the other left!"
I’m pretty sure the other tourists were getting their own amusement from watching our struggle. But, for us, it was one of those moments where we all just lost it—laughing, joking, and finally admitting that the boat had more control than we did.
But Wayanad didn’t stop with the boat ride. It had a way of pulling you in slowly, almost like a hidden treasure chest of experiences. At Soochipara Falls, I saw my kids do something I never expected—being quiet for once.
It was because they were utterly transfixed by the sheer power of the waterfall. The water, thundering down, was unlike anything they'd ever seen. The rock-strewn pathway leading to the falls was a bit tricky for their small feet, but they were determined, urging each other on.
Wayanad’s charm was in its customs, its people, and its soul. The local markets were a treasure trove of colours, smells, and sounds. Spices filled the air, with vendors enthusiastically explaining what each one was used for. One of the local shopkeepers insisted we try his homemade pickles.
I had no idea what I was in for—until I bit into that fiery green chilli pickle, and let’s just say, my lips didn’t stop burning for hours. But there was a smile on his face that made it worth it. “It’s good for the heart,” he said with a wink, and we all cracked up.
Then came the temple visit at Thirunelli. It wasn’t the ancient stone temple or the sprawling forest around it that struck me most; it was the ritual that made the whole thing feel so personal.
The simplicity of the offering ceremony, the incense smoke curling upwards into the sky, and the calm that enveloped us as we walked through the temple grounds—there was a tranquillity here that felt different from anywhere else.
The Unexpected End
As we rounded off our trip with a visit to the Banasura Sagar Dam, I realized something. It wasn’t the destinations that had made the trip unforgettable. Sure, the dam was magnificent—the still waters stretching across the valley, the hills in the distance—but it was what those places meant to us as a family that truly made the trip.
It was about the tiny, unexpected moments we shared together—the laughter, the chaos, the moments of awe. The people we met, the stories we heard, and the small things that stitched the whole trip together.
As we left Wayanad, heading towards Calicut for our last stop, we had no idea when we’d return. But I knew one thing for sure: this trip had changed us. It had shown us that the best family adventures aren’t the ones you meticulously plan. They’re the ones that happen when you let go of the rules and embrace the chaos.
Read more: Thrillophilia Wayanad Reviews