When CR, AK, and I set out for Avalahalli Lake, the golden glow of the early sun made it seem like we’d have to call it a day early, and AK even warned us that the sun doesn’t give much time these days. But she spoke too soon.
As soon as we reached Avalahalli, the bright sky gave way to a thick, milky fog that wrapped the lake in quiet stillness.
After a short but rewarding birding session, CR suggested we check out nearby Harohalli Lake, barely a kilometer away. The fog followed us there too, softening the landscape and turning every silhouette, from a perched cormorant to a hovering drongo, into a painting.
It turned out to be a morning of calm moods, unexpected weather, and a few memorable sightings. Avalahalli was a first-time visit for me, and Harohalli a familiar stop seen in an entirely new light. Here are the pictures.
~~~ At 6:30, the lake looked perfectly ordinary, holding its breath before the morning changed its mind.
~~~ An immature Pheasant-tailed Jacana moved quietly through the wet grass in the dim light.
~~~ A White-breasted Waterhen scampered away the moment it sensed my presence.
~~~ This was all I could get, the White-breasted Waterhen peeking cautiously through the grass before disappearing again.
~~~ A Eurasian Hoopoe, perhaps the highlight of the morning, watched us from its high perch.
~~~ A White-throated Kingfisher shared a bare branch with a Black Drongo.
~~~ These vibrant blue Morning Glory flowers caught my attention. Some clustered close like best friends whispering secrets, while others branched out, perfectly content with their own space.
~~~ I spotted this tiny tridax daisy standing completely alone. It wasn't trying to hide, nor was it clustered with friends. It just stood tall.
~~~ These Creeping Oxeye were absolutely radiating cheer.
~~~ And just like that, the fog rolled in, turning the sunny morning into a silent, misty landscape.
~~~ The trees became vague, beautiful silhouettes, lending the lake a dreamlike quality.
~~~ We spotted these Lesser Whistling Ducks standing on a submerged branch, perfectly reflected in the still, glassy water.
~~~ Under the heavy fog, a bare tree rose from the water.
~~~ Cormorants performed a silent ballet in the milky sky.
~~~ A tiny Little Grebe made quiet ripples in the pale water, undisturbed by the heavy fog.
~~~ A Little Egret, pristine and sharp, watched us from the cover of the marshy plants.
~~~ We left Avalahalli Lake and reached Harohalli Lake, barely a kilometer away. The fog, a faithful companion, followed us there too.
~~~ Our very first sighting at Harohalli was a beautifully intense Red-wattled Lapwing.
~~~ Found her! A loud call betrayed this beautiful female Asian Koel, her red eye piercing the canopy.
~~~ An Oriental Magpie-Robin perched on a high wire gave us a cheerful performance.
~~~ The Brown Shrike perched high on a bamboo branch, announcing its presence with a scratchy, persistent call.
~~~ A peaceful pair of Indian Spot-billed Ducks glided through.
~~~ Perched prominently near the water was an Oriental Darter. Its long neck was stretched high, and it had its wings spread wide to catch the air.
~~~ The Rosy Milkweed Vine offered a moment of unexpected elegance.
~~~ A lone Spot-billed Pelican glided through the thick, silver mist.
~~~ The Black Drongo briefly paused on a twig before swooping down for insects over the grassy water's edge.
~~~ A flock of beautiful Little Egrets were busy fishing along the edge of the lake, with one individual in the center proudly showing off its catch.
~~~ This rare Common Cuckoo was a stunning find, perching patiently on a thorny branch like a painted subject, allowing us a perfect look at its barred chest and vibrant yellow eye.
~~~ A fellow birder, K told us she had spotted a Spotted Owlet and offered to take us to the spot. Though it was too far for my lens, perched high on that palm stump, the sighting was still a great reward. Here is a record shot of its concealed perch among the palm fronds.
~~~ I watched these stunning Asian Green Bee-eaters doing their thing. They perched, communicated, and one even took flight, showing off the warm copper tones beneath its wings.
~~~ A tiny, vibrant Common Kingfisher, a flash of electric blue and copper, sat on a bare branch for just a glimpse before darting away.
~~~ An Ashy Drongo was caught in mid-flight with its intense red eye.
~~~ Our last sighting of the day was this bold Common Moorhen.
~~~ Avalahalli and Harohalli, two lakes, one misty mood, and a morning that refused to be ordinary.
Drop a comment below. I’d love to hear your thoughts!
After weeks of anticipation, our family finally set out from Bangalore toward the coastal town of Kannur. It turned out to be one of our most memorable adventures. The drive through the Western Ghats was both stunning and refreshing, with winding roads, breathtaking views, and pit stops filled with delicious local food. We took every chance to stretch, laugh, and capture the little moments along the way.
Kannur welcomed us with its timeless blend of serenity and culture. Our mornings began with the gentle sound of waves at Payyambalam Beach, while afternoons led us through historic forts, colorful markets, and the lively energy of Theyyam performances. The photos you see here hold pieces of those beautiful days, shared smiles, sandy feet, and sunsets that made us slow down and breathe.
Looking back, it was more than just a trip. It was a quiet rediscovery of how good it feels to slow down and let the waves fill our hearts with new memories.
~~~
We started early in the morning while the city was still quiet, with the car packed and everyone in high spirits. As we left the city behind, the air turned cooler and the roads opened into the lush green stretches of the Western Ghats.
~~~
Breakfast break at Chettai's, nothing beats good coffee on a long drive.
~~~ The drive was a beautiful mix of smooth highways and winding hill roads, each turn revealing something new. There were misty valleys, tiny roadside tea stalls, and forest patches where sunlight filtered through thick canopies.
Some stretches were challenging, with rough roads and narrow bends through sleepy little towns, but they only made the journey more memorable. The scenery kept changing from hills to paddy fields, from rivers to the first glimpses of the sea as we neared our resort.
~~~ After nearly seven hours on the road, we finally arrived at our destination, Krishna Beach Resort. Built entirely with red laterite stone, the resort is an architectural gem that blends beautifully with its lush surroundings. Just a few steps from Payyambalam Beach, it feels more like an extension of the coastline itself. Our suite was on the sea-facing side to the right, where we could hear the waves crashing softly, the perfect reward after a long drive.
~~~ First glimpse from our stay, and we knew the trip was worth every mile.
~~~ Golden sands, swaying palms, and the calm blue stretch of Payyambalam Beach. After the long drive, it felt like stepping into a painting, where every sound and color belonged exactly where it was meant to be.
~~~ After lunch and a bit of relaxation, we set out to explore one of Kannur’s historic gems — St. Angelo’s Fort. Built in the early 1500s by the Portuguese, this laterite fortress still stands strong, facing the Arabian Sea. The weathered walls, moss-covered steps, and panoramic ocean views made it a quiet yet fascinating place to walk through, imagining the centuries of history they’ve witnessed.
~~~ The harbor you see today has its roots in centuries of maritime trade. Kannur, once known as Cannanore, was one of the most important trading ports on the Malabar Coast. From as early as the 12th century, Arab and Chinese traders docked here for pepper, cardamom, and spices that earned Kerala the title “Land of Spices.” During the Portuguese era, this harbor was a vital naval base, strategically protected by St. Angelo’s Fort, which they built in 1505. Later, the Dutch and British also recognized its importance, using the harbor for commerce and military operations.
Standing atop the fort walls today, it’s fascinating to see how this same stretch of water still supports life and trade — not with ancient merchant ships anymore, but with hundreds of vibrant fishing boats that sustain Kannur’s coastal community.
~~~ Of course, we couldn’t resist taking several family photos against the fort’s rugged walls and scenic backdrops.
~~~ Just a short drive from St. Angelo’s Fort stands the Kannur Lighthouse, a striking red-and-white tower rising above the coconut palms. It’s the oldest lighthouse on Kerala’s coast, first built in the early 20th century to guide ships approaching the busy harbor.
~~~ Inside the lighthouse, a winding spiral staircase led us upward in elegant circles, each step echoing faintly in the quiet tower.
~~~ The current structure, though modernized, still retains its old-world charm and continues to watch over the Arabian Sea, flashing its beam far into the horizon each night.
~~~ As the sun set over Payyambalam Beach, the sky burst into shades of gold and purple, painting the waves in shimmering light. Standing barefoot on the sand, we watched day fade into a calm, unforgettable evening.
~~~ After a hearty dinner at the resort and a peaceful night’s sleep, we made our way to Payyambalam Beach early the next morning. The air was cool, the waves gentle, and the world seemed to move a little slower as we walked along the shore, taking in the calm beauty of Kannur’s coastline.
~~~ The boys had a blast that morning, building an elaborate sandcastle on Payyambalam Beach.
~~~ And of course, no beach morning is complete without a burst of joy.
~~~ After an elaborate buffet breakfast at the resort, we set out for our next stop — Muzhappilangad Drive-in Beach, one of Kerala’s most unique coastal experiences. Stretching over four kilometers, it’s India’s longest drive-in beach, where you can actually drive right along the shoreline with waves rolling beside you. The blend of adventure and serenity made it one of the most memorable highlights of our trip.
~~~ Just off the shore at Muzhappilangad Drive-in Beach, we spotted a massive hammer and sickle sculpture rising from the rocks. It’s a reminder of Kerala’s strong communist roots, something you can’t miss while traveling through the state. I am not a communist myself, but it was fascinating to see how deeply politics is woven into the local landscape, even out here by the sea.
~~~ My favorite travel crew at Muzhappilangad Drive-in Beach.
~~~ Next, we drove to the Parassinikadavu Muthappan Temple, a serene riverside shrine dedicated to Lord Muthappan. We were hoping to witness a Theyyam performance, but unfortunately, it was called off that day.
~~~ From the temple stalls, we bought this colorful Theyyam figurine, a small keepsake to make up for missing the live performance.
~~~ At the nearby reptile park, Rohan was thrilled to pose with a statue of Steve Irwin, his favorite crocodile hunter.
~~~ After missing the Theyyam performance at the temple, we drove to Neeliyar Kottam to witness the mesmerizing Theyyam of Neeliyar Bhagavathi. The shrine at Neeliyar Kottam is a serene open-air sanctum nestled within a lush forest grove, dedicated to Neeliyar Bhagavathi, the fierce and protective mother goddess worshipped through the ritual art form of Theyyam.
This kottam blends seamlessly with nature — stone steps, a carved pedestal, and ancient trees form the backdrop for rituals that connect the divine to the earth.
~~~ In a small room beside the shrine, the vibrant outfit for the Theyyam performer lay carefully arranged. Bold red, black, and white patterns waiting to come alive. Each piece of fabric, every ornament, holds symbolic meaning, representing power, devotion, and transformation. Soon, these colors would adorn the performer who channels Neeliyar Bhagavathi in a sacred act that bridges the mortal and the divine.
~~~ The Neeliyar Bhagavathi Theyyam performer finally entered the arena, transformed into a towering, awe-inspiring figure of red, black, and white. The air felt charged as the rhythmic beats of the chenda echoed through the sacred grove. Moments ago, these vivid fabrics lay still in the dressing room — now, they carried the divine presence of the goddess herself.
The Legend of Neeliyar Bhagavathi
Long ago, the goddess Bhagavathi descended to Earth to destroy evil forces and restore dharma. During her travels, she reached the dense forests of Neeliyar, where a local family or community (called kavu kudiyan) offered her a sacred grove as her abode. Over time, she became known as Neeliyar Bhagavathi, the guardian deity of that land — a fierce protector who shields her devotees from misfortune and punishes injustice.
In one version of the oral tradition, Neeliyar Bhagavathi manifests after a woman suffers grave injustice and transforms into the divine mother herself, symbolizing the victory of truth and righteousness. Her red attire, dramatic face paint, and towering mudi (headdress) represent her fiery power and celestial energy. The red also signifies both fertility and vengeance — two aspects that coexist within the mother goddess.
The Performance
The Neeliyar Bhagavathi Theyyam is known for its majestic height — the performer wears one of the tallest mudi (headgear) in Theyyam traditions, reaching several meters high. The performer embodies the goddess through ritualistic dance, chants, and trance, believed to be possessed by the divine spirit.
The goddess “descends” into the performer, who then blesses the devotees, listens to grievances, and delivers oracles (prasadam).
~~~ Back at the resort, the day ended on a joyful note as we celebrated Nishant’s 19th birthday.
~~~ The next morning we headed to Madayi Para, a vast laterite plateau carpeted with wildflowers. During the monsoon and post-monsoon months this landscape transforms into a painter’s palette and we were lucky to catch it blanketed in delicate Kakkappoovu (Utricularia) tiny purple blooms swaying gently in the breeze. The sight was magical like a lavender mist spread across the earth.
~~~ Although it was almost midday when we reached there, I still managed to spot a Plain Prinia perched gracefully on a wire.
~~~ The soft breeze carried waves of foxtail grass, their pinkish bristles glowing in the sunlight like delicate feathers.
~~~ Our next stop was the Madai Vadukunda Shiva Temple, a centuries-old shrine that stands gracefully at the edge of Madayi Para. Its laterite walls and beautifully carved wooden doorway exuded the timeless charm of traditional Kerala architecture.
~~~ Inside the Madai Vadukunda Shiva Temple, the air was calm and filled with devotion. The golden pillars gleamed under the morning light, beautifully complementing the earthy tones of the laterite structure.
~~~ On the way back, we stopped to try the iconic Kannur cocktail, a refreshing local specialty made from papaya and boiled carrot, blended to a smooth, creamy texture and topped with cashew nuts and pomegranate pearls. The mix of subtle sweetness and crunch made it the perfect way to wrap up our trip.
~~~ As if by divine intervention we stumbled upon the very Muthappan Theyyam performance we had missed the previous day. At a small roadside shrine the performer was getting ready, his transformation from man to deity unfolding before our eyes. The rhythmic beats, the smell of incense, and the sacred energy in the air made it feel as though fate had led us there.
~~~ We witnessed the sacred Muthappan Theyyam, a living tradition where art, faith, and devotion come together. From the performer’s quiet preparation and intricate makeup to the powerful dance and divine trance, every moment carried a sense of reverence. The drumming, the chants, and the flickering lamps turned the small courtyard into a space alive with energy and grace.
After the ritual the Theyyam blessed my wife and offered spiritual guidance.
What is Muthappan Theyyam?
Muthappan Theyyam is one of the most revered ritual performances in North Kerala, especially in the Kannur district. It is a living tradition where art, faith, and devotion merge, not as a staged show but as a sacred offering to the deity Sree Muthappan, who is believed to be a divine incarnation that protects and blesses the people.
Who is Muthappan?
Sree Muthappan is a unique deity in Kerala’s spiritual landscape, a combination of Lord Vishnu in the form of Valiya Muthappan or Thiruvappan and Lord Shiva in the form of Cheriya Muthappan or Vellatom. Unlike most Hindu deities, Muthappan is worshipped through Theyyam performances rather than idols or temple rituals.
He is regarded as a folk god of the people, loved for his humility, compassion, and closeness to everyday life. Muthappan accepts offerings like toddy, or palm wine, and dried fish, symbolizing his connection to common folk and fisher communities.
What is Theyyam?
Theyyam, from “Daivam,” meaning god, is a ritual dance form of North Kerala where performers transform into divine beings through makeup, costume, and trance. Each Theyyam represents a specific deity or ancestral spirit, and the performer is believed to embody the divine during the ritual, blessing devotees, listening to their troubles, and offering spiritual guidance.
It is not just performance art; it is a direct and sacred encounter between the divine and the devotees.
The Story Behind Muthappan
The legend says that Muthappan was born to a noble family in Parassinikadavu in Kannur. From a young age he showed deep compassion for all beings and lived an unconventional life, eating food offered to gods, mingling with hunters and fisherfolk, and questioning rigid social norms.
Unable to understand his divine nature, his family rejected him. But he revealed himself as an incarnation of both Vishnu and Shiva, destined to bless and protect those who call upon him.
Today, Sree Muthappan temples, called Madappura, can be found across North Kerala, especially the famous one at Parassinikadavu, where daily rituals involve Theyyam performances instead of priests or idols.
~~~ Every morning at Payyambalam Beach was pure bliss. It honestly felt like we had a private beach all to ourselves, miles of sand, soothing waves, and not a crowd in sight. We went a little crazy with photos, just trying to hold on to that perfect, peaceful feeling.
~~~ Evenings at Payyambalam were just as magical. As the day came to a close, we stood quietly watching the sun dip into the sea.
~~~ One evening, we decided to explore beyond Payyambalam and drove to a lesser-known gem — Ezhara Beach. Reaching there, however, was a bit tricky. The narrow village roads and sharp turns made the drive an adventure of its own.
Once we arrived, the calmness of the place made it all worthwhile.
~~~ It was nice to just sit and watch the waves crash against the rocks.
~~~ There’s a lot to see at the resort itself — from its traditional Kerala-style architecture and art-filled corridors to the calm, green surroundings that make you slow down and just enjoy the moment.
~~~ The red laterite stone is carved perfectly, giving the interiors a warm, traditional charm that beautifully complements the coastal atmosphere of Kannur.
~~~ The window arches and ornamental columns are finely carved, showing the craftsmanship that went into every detail.
~~~ The cascading greenery softens the structure, blending it seamlessly with its tropical surroundings.
~~~
Slow mornings, palm trees, and easy smiles, enjoying the laid-back vibe of Krishna Beach Resort.
~~~ On our return, we took a two-hour detour to Cherupuzha to meet my sister. They insisted we stay for lunch, and with all the catching up, it was past 5 PM when we finally hit the road again.
Soon after, the rain started pouring, turning the drive through the Western Ghats into a real test of endurance. The narrow winding roads, scattered potholes, and rough patches made progress slow, while mist and oncoming headlights added to the challenge.
For hours, the rhythmic sound of rain on the windshield and the hum of the engine were our only companions. It was both nerve-wracking and strangely peaceful — the kind of journey that reminds you how unpredictable travel can be.
By the time we reached back home in Bangalore, it was 2 AM. Tired, muddy, and grateful, we realized that even the toughest drives often end up becoming the most memorable parts of a trip.
~~~ As we unpacked and settled back into routine, the memories of Kannur lingered — the sound of the sea, the scent of rain on red earth, the warmth of the people, and the quiet strength of its traditions.
Which part of this journey did you enjoy reading the most? Share your thoughts in the comments below. I would love to read.
