Pearl Valley: A Long Time Coming

Some trips take effort. And then there are trips like Muthyalamadavu, the one that seemed determined to never happen.

AK, CA and I had been circling this plan for what felt like ages. Every time we got close, something stepped in. Work, travel, last minute chaos. The previous attempt ended before it even began, thanks to a perfectly timed flat tyre that felt less like bad luck and more like a running joke.

So when we finally did make it, it felt like breaking a small jinx.

Muthyalamadavu, or Pearl Valley, made sure we earned every bit of it. Slopes that tested the legs, paths that forced us to slow down, and foliage that turned photography into a patient game of hide and seek. Nothing came easy.

But as always, the birds had the final say. And they did not disappoint.

What started as a long delayed plan turned into one of those quietly satisfying outings where effort met reward. Not easy, but absolutely worth it.

Here’s a photo tour.

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As always, we started early at 4:30 am. When the light began to soften the horizon, we pulled over, unable to resist a quiet moment with the dawn.

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At the Pearl Valley entrance, a bonnet macaque balanced on the fence, backlit by the morning sun, enjoying a simple Marie biscuit and turning it into a rather artistic moment.

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The birding began with an Oriental Magpie-Robin, a familiar face to start the day.

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A quiet stretch of wildflowers, softly lit by the morning.

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We slowly made our way down the steps towards the waterfall. A fellow birdwatcher mentioned that the real action lay beyond it.

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At a gazebo on the way down, a bonnet macaque peeked out from the tin roof, quietly checking us out.

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A White-browed Bulbul showed up briefly, keeping to the tangle.

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With no rains for months, the waterfall had shrunk to a gentle trickle.

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Near the falls, we spotted juvenile Indian Paradise Flycatchers.

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A male Loten’s Sunbird in eclipse plumage, with its extra long bill, stayed on the move.

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A White-cheeked Barbet paused at its nesting hole, while a Coppersmith Barbet watched from the canopy.

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Beyond the falls, we walked along the stream bed itself, and every step took effort.

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A restless bunch of Indian White-eyes kept us busy, appearing and disappearing in seconds.

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A Crimson Rose added a quiet splash of red to the trail.

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We searched high and low for the White-rumped Shama. CA got a glimpse, I got a stiff neck as it perched high above us, and no photo. This Tickell’s Blue Flycatcher was my consolation.

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A young Indian Paradise Flycatcher holding its own in the shade.

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A restless Fantail kept flicking its tail open like a hand fan, darting through the thickets and testing my patience.

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A quick pause from an Indian White-eye, though I knew it would be gone the very next second.

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Catching the Black-naped Monarch was a bit of a tour de force.

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The juvenile male Asian Paradise Flycatcher was a fitting last frame, so we turned back. What followed was a careful walk over a scattered rocky path and a climb up the stairs, powered mostly by hunger and the hope of water waiting at the end.

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Somewhere between the missed shots, fleeting glimpses, and a few satisfying frames, the day had already done its job. Pearl Valley had offered enough little gems to make us want to return.

Do drop in a comment with your thoughts.

From Courtyard to Cascades

Last October, a gentle nudge from my friend CR turned into one of those trips that quietly stay with you. The plan was simple. A relaxed birding getaway to Mango Mulch, a lovely homestay run by her friends Ashwini and Sudhakar.

We timed our arrival perfectly for breakfast. Ashwini had kindly offered to cook for us before they headed out on their own vacation, and that meal alone was worth the early start. Warm food, easy conversation, and that familiar excitement of what the day might bring.

The plan was to explore the eight-acre property and see what birds turned up. But sometimes, birding has other ideas. With our hosts getting ready to leave and the place in a bit of transition mode, the birds seemed to have taken the day off too.

But Mango Mulch didn’t leave us empty-handed.

If not birds, then butterflies. And not just any, but a fluttering gathering of Blue Tigers, drifting lazily through the garden like they had nowhere else to be. Add to that the burst of flowers around the property, and the morning found its own rhythm.

With the bird list still waiting to be written, we decided to move on and try our luck elsewhere.

Shivanasamudra was calling.

A short drive later, the twin waterfalls, Gaganachukki and Bharachukki, took over the day. The calm of the morning gave way to the thunder of water, drifting mist, and finally, some bird activity to reward the patience.

Here are some frames from that day. A mix of blue wings, bright blooms, and roaring falls.

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Like always, we started early for the 150 km drive and rolled into Mango Mulch just in time for breakfast.

The home itself was a highlight even before we stepped out with our cameras. A traditional Thotti Mane, built around a sunken central courtyard. The thotti, a stone-lined tank, sat quietly at the heart of the house, surrounded by wooden pillars and open light filtering in from above.

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Light bounced gently off the red oxide floors, giving the whole space a calm, lived-in warmth. It felt like stepping into a different pace of time.

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Breakfast turned out to be a proper introduction to the place. A plate of hand-pressed, delicate rice noodles, served two ways.

On one side, the savoury shavige bath, lightly tempered with mustard seeds, curry leaves, green chillies, coconut, and peanuts. Comforting, familiar, very much in the chitranna zone.

On the other, the softer, sweeter version paired with kayi haalu. Fragrant coconut milk, sweetened with jaggery and gently lifted with cardamom.

Same base. Two moods. Both equally good.

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We looked around the place. A lily pond, a ring of rain lilies around it, and a lot of quiet.

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And then, colour.

Patches of pink and white cosmos swaying lightly, catching just enough light to make you stop.

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Zinnias in soft pinks, layered and delicate. A lone sunflower standing out, bold and unapologetic.

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The eight-acre property had its share of interesting fruit trees. Ashwini pointed out a karonda, sitting quietly among the leaves, half blushing into ripeness.

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And then, finally, some wings.

A small patch of plants turned into a gathering spot for Blue Tigers. Not one or two, but a loose cluster, drifting in and out, settling just long enough before lifting again.

We bid our hosts goodbye as they headed out for their vacation and set off towards Shivanasamudra.

On the way, we pulled over for a bit. A lone hill rising gently beside the highway, framed by scattered clouds and that wide open sky. Nothing dramatic, just one of those views that makes you stop without overthinking it.

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And then, the sound.

The falls don’t arrive quietly. Water everywhere, spilling over rock, loud and relentless. Sheets splitting and rejoining, carving their way down through green. Gaganachukki and Bharachukki, each with their own character, but equally relentless.

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I checked a ficus tree for birds. Looked promising.

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And then, finally, a Black-naped Oriole.

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Next to show up was a Red-vented Bulbul, busy with breakfast.

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And then, a male Common Iora. Restless, bright, never quite staying still for long.

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The birds took their time that day. But between butterflies, flowers, food, and the falls, it never really felt like we were waiting. Hope you enjoyed the post, would love to hear your thoughts.