Wayanad and Beyond: Ajinkya’s Family’s Perfectly Imperfect Journey with Thrillophilia
We set out to find peace in Wayanad, but what we really found was a whole lot of joy and a little bit of chaos.
Isn’t it funny how the best trips often start with no grand plans? No destination so exotic you’re just itching to check it off your bucket list, with a Thrillophilia itinerary that has every moment of your trip pre-packaged like a fast-food meal. No, we were just a family of four, stumbling our way through Wayanad, armed with nothing but vague expectations and an open mind. And that? That’s exactly how we ended up discovering the magic of this place.
A Chaotic Start to Something Beautiful
Packing for a family trip? A task so heroic, it deserves a medal. I swear the half of the luggage consisted of snacks, while the other half was the sheer energy required to handle the mounting stress of making sure no one forgot their toothbrush or their charger.
We were leaving Bangalore and headed for Wayanad, via Mysore, because why not add a dash of history to the mix? It should’ve been an easy drive. It wasn’t. You know that moment when someone in the car—usually the most confident navigator—insists, “I know a shortcut!” but two hours later, you’re lost in some tiny village, dodging cows, all while trying not to look like complete tourists? Yep, that was us.
But here’s the thing: No one in the car seemed to mind. Every time we missed a turn, a new memory was born. One of those moments where you laugh so hard you forget you’re lost, and suddenly being lost doesn’t seem like such a bad thing. We finally made it to Mysore, and to no one's surprise, the palace did not disappoint.
The kids loved it, not so much because of the grandness of the place, but because they had just learned the art of sneaking around a palace without getting caught by the pretend guards (a.k.a. Dad).
Chaos, Culture, and Connection
And then, arriving in Wayanad felt like stepping into a dream—or, better yet, a painting. You know the kind of painting that’s full of greens and blues? The reality of being one with nature started to hit when we tried to row a boat at Pookode Lake.
What should’ve been a tranquil, picturesque moment turned into a full-on water fight with everyone trying to "help" row. Let’s just say, our boat skills need work—everyone’s boat skills, including mine. At one point, I was laughing so hard I could barely paddle, and the kids were just trying to figure out who could throw the most water in the other person’s direction.
But that’s what Wayanad turned out to be about—laughing at the awkward moments and embracing the fact that things don’t have to be perfect to be perfect. We were surrounded by lush hills and fog-covered lakes, but it was the joy of being with each other—no perfect Instagram shots needed—that made it all memorable.
Speaking of joy, I’d be remiss not to mention the spice market we visited. If you’ve never been to one of these local gems, it’s like a sensory overload. From the aroma of freshly ground cardamom to the sudden realization that you’re probably buying spices in bulk for a year’s worth of curries, it was pure excitement.
But here’s the real gem of Wayanad: the culture. It wasn’t just the views or the tourist spots that grabbed our attention—it was the vibe of the place. People in Wayanad live their lives in such a calm, joyful, and simple way that you almost feel like you’ve stepped into a different world. The temples, for instance, felt sacred in a way that had nothing to do with grand architecture and everything to do with the tranquillity they radiated.
I remember our visit to the Thirunelli Temple. The cool mountain air, the chants, the soft rustling of trees—it was like time stood still. It was one of those moments when you realized that the world could slow down if you just let it.
The Road to Calicut
Leaving Wayanad, we drove toward Calicut, and I couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of nostalgia. We were leaving the green hills, the spice-laden air, and the warmth of the local people, but we carried with us memories that would last a lifetime. The entire journey felt like one long, hilarious adventure where each stop along the way turned into a new chapter of chaos, laughter, and connection.
Whether it was nearly losing the map in the car (again), bargaining with local vendors over spices, or simply breathing in the fresh mountain air, it was a trip that, in retrospect, could have only happened because we didn’t have it all figured out.
What’s the takeaway? Sometimes, the best family memories don’t come from ticking off every tourist spot on a list. They come from getting lost in the backroads, from laughing through the uncomfortable moments, and from finding joy in the unexpected.
And to Thrillophilia, thank you for making this family trip a reality. It wasn’t just about the itinerary—it was about embracing the chaos, the moments that go beyond a checklist. Here’s to future trips, and may they be just as wild and joyful as this one.
Read more: Thrillophilia Wayanad Reviews