The Voice of A

See the entire set on Flickr

Here’s a revelation: Television lied to you. *GASP* I know! But it’s also true for travel. Palin’s New Europe or any of the delicious travel shows on Discovery have made me believe that the really out-there locations that no one goes to are only so because of accessibility. Everyone would head up to the dizzying heights of Malana if not for a testing 4 hour trek. And riding across Vietnam might be Romantic, if not realistic.

But recent experience tells me different things. Two years ago, I was happily shocked to discover Koralai, sitting not three hours away from home, a beautiful beach without a spec of human on it.

And then, two years later, I reached Vadanapalli. In a journey under an hour from Trichur, you expect everything the modern Kerala landscape has to offer: a relentless barrage of Jewelry advertising, an almost fanatical following of football (which was lovely, kindly refer to Messi in a Mundu) and, in between, some breathtaking views of what the place was really like.

But today’s point is not cynicism, for this is what Vadanapalli looks like:

More pictures here. I’m going to be visiting this place every time I go back home. You should too, but please, please spare the crisps and biscuits. None of these images were Photoshopped, so please let them be that way the next time around as well.

It’s been five years, give or take a few since I’ve been to the old country. Over the years, the constant, persuasive greys have gradually worn out memories of the sharp, shockingly beautiful colours of Kerala. Pictures and memories don’t work very well that way, for the rose tinted glasses of nostalgia often change the colours a little too much for. Y mentioned something that’s quite apt here too, tropical beauty is often not very photogenic. You really NEED to be there.

Athizapally or Mani Ratnam falls, depending on who you ask was supposed to be different. On the way to Cochin, the route isn’t anything special, until you take the diversion towards the falls. The road gets worse, for the better. Lanes become a lane, and the scenery improves immediately. Clearly, this is the picture book Kerala that everyone expects to see, one without an endless barrage of Jewellery stores or Apparel advertisements. You won’t miss out on some uniquely local celebrities though.

Once you turn off the National Highway, the road’s a piece of art. Sharp twisty corners, hairpin bends, blind rises and drops are the essential features of any good driver’s road, and this stretch serves these in abundance. Driving in a 100,000km+ Lancer, the road would have been the stuff of this man’s legend, were it not for the presence of some elderly, less care-free people in the procession. And while it is a crying shame to do 50 on a road that begs for 90, the scenery did make up a bit.

And a sight it was. Flowers (something of a rarity in the average Monsoon Kerala countryside), Kingfishers, Rubber Trees and tiny, adorable houses by the river. This idyllic environ was broken only (and often) by other cars, almost certainly driven by Keralites, henceforth known as anything but drivers.

We arrive at Athirapally, and my enthusiasm is dropping a little. Paid car parking, rubbish on the streets and lines of hotels can only mean one thing: the tourists have already invaded. And while I too am a hypocrite with a camera at a waterfall, I was hoping this would be deserted. Being shepherded along a suspiciously moss free path wasn’t helping.

The waterfall itself is quite epic. There’s a decent drop, and the wide Chalakudy river makes the scene quite a spectacle. Bit of a disappointment then that the place was swarming with people. If you don’t mind getting your feet messy, the climb down the falls is quite satisfying. If you’re cursed with too much knowledge of climbing though, you won’t like the muddy, slippery paths. And for good reason, they’re as firm as they look.

An hour later, we were done. We had a small matter of getting to Cochin to pick up the parents, and had spotted a smaller road that goes roughly parallel to the highway. Turning off the road, we’d stumbled upon driving paradise.

Single pot-holed lanes they may have been, but twisting sharp and often, the road ran past the river for an extended period of time. When it did twist away, we turned into dense rubber plantations, or equally breathtaking meadows of green.

It’s a shame then, that I wasn’t on the wheel when the trip took a turn for the better. The hype had been good, but the road had been much, much better.