We have been to Munnar more times than we can count. For most people, it is the default getaway spot, featuring misty hills, cool air, and bustling tourist corners.
So when we planned this trip, we knew one thing for sure: we did not want just another Munnar story. And thankfully, it turned out nothing like that.
This time, it was about the drive, the unexpected turns, and a small village called Vattavada. A place tucked far beyond the usual routes where the road itself became the real highlight.
The stark, familiar roads, old favourites
We left early from Kochi in our fuel-guzzler MG Hector. It is a comfortable vehicle, but I was not too sure how it would handle the steep uphill climbs ahead. That bit of doubt made the drive exciting, especially for someone who enjoys being behind the wheel.
Our first stop, like always, was the idli shop at Muvattupuzha. It is our tradition now. Hot, soft idlis and spicy sambar always set the mood right. As I dipped my idli into the sambar, I could not help but think of an old flood assignment I once had to drop midway.
Back then, the town was almost underwater, and people were using country boats to reach the main road. That memory has stuck, and I never look at Muvattupuzha the same way again.
If it had been later in the day, we would have skipped the idlis and headed to Amrita Hotel nearby.
It is a neat place with great duck roast and vellayappam. A bit on the higher side but totally worth it if you are travelling long distances. Plus, they have clean restrooms and lots of parking.
The climb, familiar yet fresh
We took the route via Tripunithura. Less traffic, more charm. After Kothamangalam, the views were green and calm, with tiled houses and tiny toddy shops dotting the way. I once stepped into a bar there and found something odd. The brandy and whisky drinkers stood at one counter while the rum fans had their own space. It felt like a funny little caste system of drinks. Still cracks me up.
After Neriyamangalam, came the narrow bridge. I always hold my breath a little when crossing it, especially if a KSRTC bus comes charging from the other side. But we made it through slowly, tyres brushing the edge and all.
People think the Munnar road is full of hairpin bends, but there is only one proper one, and it is right at the start. The real adventure begins after Adimali. With half the distance done and another stretch to go, you feel more eager than tired.
Not stopping at Munnar
As expected, Munnar was packed. We stopped only to refuel and grab a quick bite. Parking was crazy, so we did not hang around. Instead, we drove straight out of town, heading for what would turn out to be the best part of the trip.
The road to Vattavada is about forty-four kilometres of sheer beauty. From tea estates and viewpoints to dams and forest patches, it is like driving through a painting.
We passed Mattupetty Dam, which was full of tourists waving phones in the air while I kept mine ready for those quiet views that sneak up on you.
At Pampadum Shola, a forest officer flagged us down. Do not stop, do not feed the animals, do not get out, he said. Polite but firm. Like a teacher before a school trip. We nodded and drove on.
That next ten kilometres through the forest was something else. Dense. Quiet. Almost magical. Every part of me wanted to stop and take a picture, but sometimes, you just have to look and move on.
Reaching Vattavada, where time slows down
We reached Vattavada just before dark. A sleepy little village with chill in the air and hardly any traffic. It did not try to impress, and that was the best part.
Set high in the hills, Vattavada feels like the last stop before the world ends. The village is known for its farming, especially apples, strawberries, and even some vegetables you do not usually see in Kerala.
Many houses have small gardens growing just enough for the family and the fence, too.
There is a small honey museum and an old church. Not exactly must-see attractions, but nice if you like slow walks and no crowds.
The nearby areas like Koviloor have simple homestays and walking trails where you will probably meet more butterflies than people.
The tent stay that came with surprises
We stayed at Dream Valley Resort, which had fixed tents with attached bathrooms. Not your regular camping style but something between comfort and adventure. My wife was not fully on board with the idea, especially after reading about wild animals in the area.
That night, around midnight, she suddenly sat up. Not scared but confused. She was sure she heard a growl. But then she said it is not your snoring; I know that tune too well. This one was different.
Turned out it was a gentleman in the next tent whose snoring sounded like someone trying to start a tractor on a cold morning. Loud, deep, and huffing away like it had a life of its own.
For a moment, we just lay there listening to it like it was part of nature’s background music.
The silence of Vattavada made every sound clearer. The wind, the trees, the occasional call of an insect, and, of course, that snore. And lying there under the cold roof of a quiet tent, we realised this was exactly why we came. To feel a little more alive.
The writer is Picture Editor, Malayala Manorama
