Byrahalli Bliss Camping, Sakleshpur – A Weekend of Rain, Food and Conversations

 

Dates: 22nd – 24th May 2026
Location: Byrahalli Bliss Camping, Sakleshpur

It all started with the usual discussion — Where do we go next? The challenge is always finding a place that is not too far, yet not too close. After tossing around a few ideas, we finally settled on Sakleshpur. It felt like the perfect balance — far enough from Bangalore to feel like an escape, yet close enough for a relaxed drive.

And thus began yet another memorable overlanding experience.

I reached the location by around 2:00 PM. Waiting there was Vignesh, the owner of the campsite — a remarkably simple and humble person. Since the campsite was located deep inside another estate, he asked all of us to first gather at his residence and then follow him to the actual location.

What followed was a pleasant surprise — a short stretch of off-roading through the estate roads. Nothing too extreme, but just enough to bring smiles to overlanders. We happily followed suit, vehicle after vehicle. Since everyone arrived at different times, poor Vignesh had to make multiple trips ferrying campers to the site, yet not once did he complain. His hospitality quietly set the tone for the rest of the trip.

Gaurav and Rithika reached the campsite at around 4:00 PM. Tents were pitched, camp chairs unfolded, and slowly the place started feeling like home.

Byrahalli Bliss Camping sits beautifully amidst lush coffee estates, and right beside the campsite flows the Japavathi River — though river might be too grand a word; it felt more like a serene mountain stream gently making its way through the forest. The setting was peaceful, raw and deeply soothing.

Raveen and Meenakshi joined us around 6:00 PM. The afternoon had been slightly sultry, but by evening, Sakleshpur began showing its true personality — cool winds, drifting clouds and that unmistakable freshness in the air.

By the time we had set up our cooking section, it was nearly 8:00 PM, and Pradeep Patil, along with his family, arrived at camp. Dinner for the night was vegetable pulav, and as always in camping, food became everyone’s collective responsibility. Chopping, stirring, tasting, joking — every hand contributed.

Of course, not everyone was equally enthusiastic about pulav.

Rithika, who clearly had other plans, decided noodles were the superior option for the evening and happily prepared Maggi for herself and Pradeep Patil’s son.

Our final arrivals — Pradeep Verma and his wife — reached around 9:00 PM, completing the group.

The evening slowly unfolded into one filled with laughter, travel stories and conversations that only camping seems capable of creating.

The campsite itself was simple yet thoughtfully arranged. It had four large tents accommodating up to eight people, a common dining area, two restrooms with bathing facilities, and two campfire areas. Cozy, comfortable and ideal for a small group wanting to disconnect from the chaos of city life.

After dinner, some of us attempted a short night walk. But enthusiasm quickly faded when the topic of leeches came up. Unsurprisingly, not everyone felt adventurous enough for nighttime exploration in monsoon country, and we collectively decided retreating to camp sounded wiser.

Sakleshpur is known for its incredible birdlife, with hundreds of species inhabiting the region. Unfortunately, with the monsoon approaching, birdwatching opportunities were limited. Nature had decided that mist and rain would be the stars of the show instead.

Before calling it a night, Pradeep Patil, who had come with his wife, son and parents, mentioned that he would have to leave the next morning due to some urgent work.

Morning arrived not through alarms, but through the soundtrack of nature itself.

Birds chirped endlessly as soft drizzle tapped gently against tents.

Breakfast became another memorable event.

Meenakshi and Raveen, the unofficial chief chefs of camp, prepared a delicious Upma, while Pradeep Patil’s mother, making sure nothing went to waste, transformed the leftover rice from the previous night into flavorful tomato rice. Everything tasted extraordinary — perhaps because food somehow tastes better outdoors.

Aeons later, Rithika and Gaurav finally woke up and were rewarded with special ghee dosa, lovingly prepared by Meenakshi and Raveen.

At this point, the trip was beginning to feel suspiciously like a food festival disguised as a camping trip.

Curious to explore, we asked Vignesh what nearby places we could visit. After briefly discussing options, we unanimously decided to do absolutely nothing.

And honestly, it was the best decision.

The drizzle continued throughout the day, wrapping the estate in mist and making time feel strangely irrelevant. We spent hours simply talking, eating snacks, laughing and existing.

It genuinely felt as though we had been transported into some parallel universe.

Perhaps the greatest luxury of this campsite was the complete absence of mobile network. In a world addicted to notifications, being unreachable felt strangely liberating.

Gaurav and I spent some quiet time in the common area discussing everything under the sun — life, travel, philosophy and probably half the problems of humanity — while others surrendered to short afternoon naps.

Eventually, hunger struck again.

Gaurav, Pradeep Verma and I decided to prepare macaroni, and just when we thought the kitchen shift was over, Raveen woke up from his nap and unexpectedly started making pakodas.

What followed was one of those unforgettable rainy-evening combinations — hot pakodas and incredible filter coffee, expertly made by Meenakshi.

Simple joys.

By evening, the rain eased.

We went for a short walk, and suddenly the landscape felt alive again. Birds emerged from hiding, the forest sounded brighter, and nature seemed to gently remind us of its quiet healing power.

As darkness returned, food once again became the center of activity.

Meenakshi and Meenu (Pradeep Verma’s wife) began preparing Aloo Parathas, and somewhere in between laughter and cooking, we all jokingly agreed that perhaps we had travelled all the way to Sakleshpur only to eat.

But there was something special about this place — something impossible to explain unless experienced.

Later that evening, we spent time sitting by the banks of the Japavathi stream, simply unwinding.

That, in many ways, is the true spirit of Overlanding.

It is not always about driving long distances or conquering difficult terrain. Sometimes, it is about slowing down. About meeting amazing people with incredible life experiences. About learning from fellow travellers who have explored corners of the world you may never have imagined.

On the whole, we had five vehicles at the campsite:

• 2 Toyota Hilux
• 1 Toyota Taisor
• 1 Maruti Jimny
• 1 Scorpio N

A wonderful mix of machines, people, stories and experiences.

This trip reminded me once again why these escapes matter.

The laughter, the rain, the food, the silence, the conversations and the feeling of being disconnected from everything except the moment.

Looking forward to the next one soon.

Signing off,
Raj

Where the Road Slows Down – Overlanding in Nelgi, Coorg

 

KARNATAKA OVERLANDERS

From April 17th to 19th, 2026, a small convoy of machines and minds rolled into the quiet landscapes of Nelgi, Coorg. What started as just another overlanding plan turned into something far more meaningful—three days of slowing down, sharing space, and letting nature lead.

Our lineup was a mix of purpose and personality—two Maruti Suzuki Jimnys, two Toyota Hilux trucks, two Mahindra Scorpio Ns, and a lone Volkswagen Taigun. Seven vehicles, eight people, and no real agenda.

Day 1 – Arriving, Settling, Letting Go

We reached A1 Glamping by late afternoon. Like any good overlanders, the first instinct was to explore—could there be a better spot to pitch tents? A quick reconnaissance later, we decided to stick to the original plan.

By 4 PM, everyone had arrived. There’s something about setting up camp that shifts your mindset—you slow down, you become present. As the sun dipped, the campsite came alive with small activities.

Cooking began. No fixed menu, just a spontaneous potluck. Someone stirred something over a stove, someone chopped vegetables, someone just watched the fire.

The night unfolded gently. Clear skies, cool weather, and a silence that only nature can offer. We sat under the stars, not doing much—and that was the point.

Day 2 – Climbing Hills, Finding Water, Sharing Time

The day began with a simple pleasure—a good cup of coffee in the wild.

Soon after, we decided to drive up a nearby hill. One Hilux, two Jimnys, and a Scorpio N followed the property owner’s jeep. The climb was steep, the terrain unpredictable, but the view at the top made everything worth it. Cool breeze, open skies, and that quiet sense of achievement.

On the way back, the group began to thin out. A Jimny left, and two campers who had joined the previous night headed out for personal commitments.

By noon, four of us remained.

We parked near a perennial stream and waited for the others arriving on motorcycles—one Triumph Tiger 1200 and one Honda Africa Twin. They rolled in around 1 PM, adding a different energy to the group.

The stream became our world for the next few hours. Cooking, conversations, feet in cold water, and no rush to be anywhere else.

The afternoon heat kept us from venturing out, so we leaned into it—returned to camp, rested, and waited for the evening.

And the evening didn’t disappoint.

Cool winds returned. Fires were lit. Everyone cooked again—each dish telling its own story. Conversations drifted from travel to life to things that don’t really need conclusions.

We called it a day without realizing when time passed.

Day 3 – Slow Mornings and Unexpected Moments

The morning arrived softly. A lingering fog, muted sunlight, and the forest waking up.

Bird calls filled the air—at least twenty different species, each adding to a natural orchestra. No rush, no checklist. Just watching, listening, absorbing.

As we began packing up after a quick breakfast, the trip threw one final surprise at us. A Scorpio N key got locked inside the vehicle. After trying all options, we had to break the quarter glass to retrieve it.

Not ideal—but somehow, even that became part of the story.

We said our goodbyes to the hosts and to each other, and slowly drove back—carrying a little more calm than we came with.

What Overlanding Really Means

Overlanding isn’t about destinations. It’s not about ticking off places or following itineraries.

It’s about unwinding.
It’s about meeting people without expectations.
It’s about letting things happen rather than planning them.

And somewhere between a shared meal, a quiet stream, and a sky full of stars—you find something you didn’t know you were looking for.