Overtourism in India: In northern Kerala’s Kannur, people are protesting against a rich laterite ecosystem ‘being loved to death’

Environmentalists, residents and others took part in a rally on August 22, 2026, to demand stronger protection for Madayippara in northern Kerala’s Kannur district.

The rally was the culmination of months of growing anxiety about the safety of one of northern Kerala’s richest laterite ecosystems.

The mobilisation was not simply against one commercial establishment. It reflected a broader fear that Madayippara is being gradually converted from an ecosystem into a tourist product. The protesters’ message was that development must stop treating the plateau as vacant land available for successive interventions. 

Where is Madayippara?

Madayippara stands above the Kuppam river near Pazhayangadi in the Kannur district of northern Kerala, where the coastal plains rise gently towards the Western Ghats. Spread across roughly 600-700 acres, this flat-topped laterite plateau is an unusual landscape of exposed rock, shallow soils, grasslands, seasonal pools and wetlands. 

To an untrained eye, much of Madayippara can look like a windswept expanse of rock and grass. To an ecologist, it is something entirely different: a finely balanced ecosystem whose apparent barrenness conceals extraordinary biological wealth.

The plateau is also deeply embedded in the cultural history of the region. The Madayikavu Bhagavathy Temple, the remains of Madayi Fort and the ancient Jewish pond lie within its wider landscape. Its colours and character change with the seasons, turning intensely green with the monsoon, erupting into flowers and later drying into a vast golden grassland.

A victim of its own beauty

This landscape is now becoming a victim of its own beauty. Madayippara has emerged as one of Kannur’s most popular day-trip destinations. Increasing visitor numbers, vehicles, waste, and commercial activity are creating a new threat to a landscape that survived centuries of natural change but may struggle with the speed and intensity of modern tourism.

N Subrahmanyan, a conservation activist based out of Payyannur near Madayipara. says the transformation has been rapid. Madayippara was once primarily a landscape of local religious significance and a destination for villagers, researchers and nature enthusiasts. Better connectivity, social media and tourism promotion have brought it into the itinerary of thousands of visitors. On peak holidays, local conservationists estimate that 500-600 vehicles can arrive in the area. The consequences are increasingly difficult to ignore. Cars and motorcycles are driven onto the plateau and parked across open spaces. Visitors walk through fragile vegetation, cook food, and leave behind plastic, bottles, and other waste.

The damage caused by a vehicle is not measured only by the tyre marks it leaves behind. Repeated traffic compacts shallow soils, crushes vegetation, and can disturb seasonal pools and tiny depressions that function as breeding and feeding habitats. For an ecosystem that operates at the scale of small microhabitats, seemingly insignificant disturbances can have disproportionate consequences.

The latest concern now brewing in the whole North Kerala region is the operation of an amusement-cum-eco park in the vicinity of Madayippara since July 31 this year. The establishment has triggered objections from local ecological activists, who have questioned its permissions and warned that additional commercial tourism could intensify the pressure already being exerted on the plateau. The question is larger than whether the facility has secured the required local approvals. Can a fragile laterite ecosystem absorb another commercial tourism attraction simply because it is called an eco-park? An environmentally responsible tourism facility should reduce pressure on nature, not multiply it. If a project increases visitor numbers, vehicle movement, waste, noise, artificial lighting and demand for roads and other infrastructure, its cumulative ecological impact has to be examined. At Madayippara, that assessment cannot be postponed until after the damage is visible.

The greatest threat to Madayippara may not come from one gigantic project. It may come from a succession of small ones. A widened road, a parking lot, a restaurant, a viewing platform, and a pool can threaten its fragile ecosystem. Temporary stalls, decorative lighting, more tourist activities, and more vehicles can damage its sustenance. Individually, each may seem harmless. Collectively, they can transform a functioning ecosystem into a commercial landscape.

The recent controversy over widening the road leading to the Madayikavu temple illustrates the problem. Environmental concerns were raised about potential damage to the plateau’s ponds, water bodies, vegetation, and other natural features. Safeguards were subsequently prescribed to minimise ecological damage. The lesson is bigger than the road itself. When a fragile landscape is already under pressure, every new intervention adds to a cumulative burden.

An ecologically important landscape

According to researchers, Madayippara’s ecological importance begins with its geology. They are of the opinion that laterite plateaus are among the most distinctive habitats of northern Kerala. Their shallow, nutrient-poor soils, intense exposure to sunlight, and alternating wet and dry seasons have produced specialised plant communities found nowhere else or in very few places. Nearly 700 flowering plant species have been recorded from Madayippara. More than 10 of the approximately 40 endemic grass species associated with the Western Ghats occur here. Several rare plants first identified from the plateau include Nymphoides krishnakesara, Justicia ekakusuma, Rotala malabarica and Lindernia madayiparense. Its biodiversity does not end with plants. More than 160 butterfly species and 269 bird species have been recorded here, along with more than 300 moth species, dozens of dragonflies, wasps, grasshoppers and praying mantises, more than 100 spiders and numerous amphibians.

The laterite plateaus of northern Kerala act as natural water-holding landscapes. Rainwater infiltrates the porous laterite, contributing to groundwater recharge and the gradual release of water into streams and surrounding ecosystems. Observational studies indicate that Madayippara stores around 320 crore (3.2 billon) litres of water annually. Its seasonal ponds, depressions and drainage channels are therefore part of a living hydrological system, not ornamental additions to a tourist landscape. Any construction that seals the laterite surface, fills depressions or blocks natural drainage can interfere with that system. A concrete structure may occupy only a few square metres. Its ecological consequences can travel much farther.

“Madayippara occupies only a tiny fraction of the Kannur district yet harbours an extraordinary proportion of its plant diversity. The crucial point is that these species are not simply living on the plateau. They are dependent on the plateau’s particular combination of laterite, soil, water, rock and open space. Destroy the habitat, and there is no easy substitute,” points out N Subrahmanyan

‘Preserve it for the future’

Well-known ecological activists T P Padmanabhan and V C Balakrishnan say the debate should not be reduced to a conflict between development and conservation. “It is our responsibility to protect Madayippara for future generations. We have inherited this extraordinary ecosystem, but we have no right to hand over a damaged landscape to those who come after us,” says Padmanabhan.

Balakrishnan points to the intimate relationship between the plateau’s geology and its biodiversity. “The laterite formations, seasonal pools and open habitats support species that cannot simply be recreated elsewhere. If these habitats disappear, the species dependent on them will disappear with them,” he says. 

For the activists, the issue is not keeping people away from Madayippara. It is ensuring that people do not love it to death.

The question is whether the authorities will hear that warning before the landscape reaches a point from which recovery is impossible.