Tea, tea … and more tea

In the afternoon we arrived at T & U Leisure Hotel, Munnar. We were all extremely tired after a long drive, so it was agreed to relax for the rest of that day and to do more stuff the next day. Even so, in the late afternoon we went out on a little walk and had a look around. We discovered a small path that led into the tea plantations. It was agreed that we would have a look at the tea tomorrow. So the next day after our tour, which included Matupetty dam, Echo point, a few markets and the tea museum, we walked down to the gap in the fence and stepped into the tea plantations.

The tea plantations

As we walked leisurely along, we spotted many side paths that were for the tea pickers to pick their way through as they harvested the tea bushes every fourteen days. It took us quite a while before we reached a small, fresh water stream which gurgled through the tea quietly. Having crossed it, we walked on only to find another stream. This one was much muddier than the last one. It also had nothing solid apart from rubbish so we had to jump over it. Phew! We had all safely crossed and had started wandering into the green again. We passed much more tea before the path sadly ended. As we walked back through the greenness, we again passed the everlasting tea bushes and then we came to the muddy stream and then to the fresh water one, so before we knew it we were stepping out through the gap in the fence and that is where the tea plantation adventure ended and a whole new one began. But I mustn’t tell you that one… 😉

 

Spicemania

One of many spice shops in Periyar

Indian food is spicy… statement of the obvious. New to me was that Indians love their spices so much that they spice up dishes and food us non-Indians would never think of. The dish will then be called Masala something with masala being the locally popular spice mixture. “Locally” meaning – in this particular restaurant, market, town, region… One of the examples would be a Masala omelette which is a normal omelette with added chilly, onion, garlic, tomato and spices. Even if you buy a six pack of eggs in the supermarket they often come with a complimentary little packet of masala. Masala tea, known in Australia as chai, varies from supersweet milky tea with a spice mix to deeply aromatic teas with cardamom or ginger flavour. Masala bread takes a bit of getting used to. Harder I find Masala lemonade… don’t think I gonna order that again 😉 As a filling masala seems to have the meaning of a spicy potato mixture. So you can get masala dosa – a pancake made from rice and lentils stuffed with spicy potatoes. As a topping masala will be a mixture of chopped tomatoes, onion, chilly, coriander leafs and spices, for example in masala papad (crispy chickpea flour bread) or peanut masala.

Spoiled for choice

But enough masala science. During our Kerala tour we went to one of the main spice producing areas not only in India but in the whole world. The tropical Malabar coast offers unique and ideal conditions for many of the spice plants. When Vasco da Gama landed here he was right where he wanted to be – in the middle of spice land. India is the largest producer of spices in the world. I was surprised to learn that although they are also the biggest exporter only 10% of the produced spices leave the country. The rest ends up on the Indian market.

The variety of spices grown here is simply amazing. There is cardamom, ginger, chilly, cinnamon, nutmeg, clove, pepper, tamarind, curry leaf, turmeric, vanilla, thyme seed, star anis, coriander, asafoetida, mace, cumin, allspice, saffron, fennugreek, mustard seed… to name the well-known ones. We drove past many single culture spice plantations but there are also countless so called spice gardens where the farmers grow a mixture of many different species.

While in Periyar we visited one of these spice gardens and were lucky enough to have a guide who had studied botany. The spice garden was a lovely shady place and every few steps there grew another exotic tree or bush with flowers, buds, leaves, bark or fruit waiting to be smelled or tasted.

In the village spice markets lined a whole street, fresh produce being offered in big baskets alongside with packaged dried spices. Too bad we couldn’t take any home with us, Australian customs are strict.

As much as we look forward to eating all the food we are used to again back home, even the kids are wondering whether we are not going to miss the spices, whether some dishes are not going to taste boring. Ah well, luckily enough there is plenty of Indian food shops in Perth, where we will be able to stock up and satisfy any spice cravings.

 

The Indian Coffee House – cafe with a difference

While spending time in Kovalam we also visited Trivandrum (Thiruvananthapuram), the capital of Kerala. Feeling quite lazy with the humid heat we didn’t have great ambitions but definitely wanted to have a stroll in the zoo which got high praise in the tourist guide. An art gallery was also on the list as well as the Indian Coffee House.

The zoo was in fact rather nice. Shady paths between reasonably nice enclosures. Although it is always hard to enjoy a zoo after having been on safari. Watching animals in the wild is such an exhilarating experience. And somehow, whether this is just in my mind or true, all animals in captivity look so sad…
Not too far from the zoo we then visited an art gallery with many impressive artefacts of Indian history.
But the highpoint of the day was surely the Indian Coffee House. Coffee is by far not as popular as tea in India. We had seen a lot of coffee plantations in Wayanad, but I guess most of the produce goes into export. We had in fact tried some Indian coffee back in Perth before we left and had been rather impressed. And one of the guides had recommended this place for its curious architecture and good food.

Ok, cab driver, here we go, next stop Indian coffee house. The cab driver acknowledged our request with the usual head waggle and recommended to try the dosas.
The architecture of the place is indeed curious – like a spiral. Once inside we walked up that spiral to find some free places among the single line of tables that line the outside wall. It was quite crowded. Waiters with turbans hurrying up and down the slope, most visitors enjoying an early lunch. It didn’t really look like the coffee indulging place we expected… ah well, we were there so lets try it out. Eventually we found a free table, errr free seats I mean, the table was still full of half eaten food. It then  took about 10 minutes to attract the attention of one of the waiters who started clearing away the remains. Eventually we even get hold of a menu. Hmmm, mainly snacks and lunches. Any coffee??? Unless the beverage that gave this locality its name was disguised in some mysterious way, it was not on the menu. A coffee house without coffee? India is full of funny surprises 😉 The waiter unfortunately was not in a very funny mood. He constantly ignored us, didn’t even look at us when finally serving. Everybody was quite hungry by then. Several people around us who had come in way after us had already finished eating and were gone again. Well, not all people like white people, I guess.
The food was quite nice though, especially the dosas.
Trying to pay was another act requiring a lot of patience. I left to take Siobhan to the toilet… the smelliest toilet I had encountered so far in India… and that says a lot. Ian eventually left the money on the table.

Yeah, this was our experience of a non-conformist coffee house. There are dozens of restaurants, coffee places and other eateries in Kerala and of course Bangalore I can highly recommend. I guess the Indian Coffee House in Trivandrum would not be among them.

 

 

On Board the Moonlight

Although we only stayed on this wonderful boat for one night, it was enough to fascinate me for a lifetime and is an unforgettable memory. The whole adventure started when we arrived at the river where there was a whole city of houseboats. We were led down to the end of the flock where a particular houseboat named Moonlight was waiting. The crew, which was made up of three people – Bhijo the captain, James the engine operator (also sub captain) and Surish the cook, helped us carry our bags into the boat. As soon as we were all safely on board, the houseboat set off.

A houseboat passing

We were sitting on the deck as it rocked gently along, after a while, we stopped somewhere in the shade. I soon realised that it was time to have lunch. This meal consisted of deliciously cooked fish (which I suspect was freshly caught), beans, double boiled rice, coconut fried cabbage, mini pappads, sambar and fried okra. After another long time of watching the horizon, we spotted a duck farm. It was basically made up of a whole lot of ducks and one or two men in a canoe who had the job of herding the ducks.

A man herding the duck farm

Duck farm

We drove on till we stopped by a market to stretch our legs. After looking in a shop, we walked along the river for 15 minutes before turning back to go back to our houseboat. As we watched the rippling river, Surish brought over some delicious banana fritters which were very filling. At about five’o clock we arrived at a park which was the place where we were going to dock for the night. After a walk, a delicious dinner was brought over. This meal included dhal, potatoes and lots of other nice Indian dishes. Later in the evening we watched a sea of green float past and then went to bed because there was nothing else to do.

The sea of green

In the morning we woke early and had breakfast. Then we drove till we were back at the bridge where we had started. Bhijo even let me steer a bit on the way there!

Me – the captain

This is where the story of the houseboat ends and another begins. But I mustn’t tell you that one…

 

Chinese Fishing Nets

We only stayed in the beach-side city of Cochin for one day, but what an action packed day it was! We visited an ancient Dutch palace, a Jewish synagogue, a wash house, where dozens of people were washing, hanging up and ironing mountains of clothes, and St Francis Church, the oldest Christian church in India. Then we strolled down a blissfully shady path, passing through a miniature market where several people tried to sell us everything from wall prints to jewellery to Indian hand puppets, and walked down a walled street until we reached the beach.

The beach was the exact opposite of the stretches of pristine white sand and clear sapphire-blue water you’d find in Australia. Tattered fishing nets, filthy, foul smelling fish crates and and warped wooden fishing boats littered the rough shoreline, while the rubbish infested, slate grey sea did not look very inviting for swimmers. The smell of rancid fish laced the air like a vile brand of perfume, most of it floating over from the direction of an open air fish market further down the beach. But the biggest difference presented itself in the form of several huge wooden constructions that towered above the water. They were the Chinese fishing nets.

One of the Chinese Fishing Nets

After examining these strange creations for a while I realised they really were fishing nets, however unlikely it looked. At the back end, raised above the beach by some precariously balanced stilts, was a narrow wooden platform with a small shelter to protect workers from the raging heat of the sun. Further on was an incredibly complex system of levers and pulleys. Then, hanging just above the water level, there was a giant net.

As I watched, several of the workers activated the levers and pulleys, lowering the net. When the net was completely submerged the workers retreated into the shade. After about five minutes the workers braved the sun once more to hoist up the net from the water. I leaned forward, expecting to see masses of squirming fish, but the net was completely empty. Looking up and down the shore, I realised that most of the other nets looked empty too.

Our tour guide explained that the Chinese had introduced this style of fishing when they came to India in the 1350s, and it had become vastly popular. The Chinese fishing nets flourished up and down the coast of Cochin, bringing in truckloads of fish every day. They stayed successful for many years until, eventually times changed, and the fishing nets did not change with them. Hi-tech boats rocketed across the waves, entering the open ocean and catching fish before they had a chance make it to the shore. A huge tsunami several years back destroyed several of the fishing nets, and severely damaged others. Nowadays the Chinese fishing nets remain as an ancient relic, a gem from the past, there to show foreigners and tourists what it was like on the beaches of Cochin hundreds of years ago.

 

Elephant Party

This post is about one of our adventures in Periyar, just one of our many stops in our two week holiday around Kerala. After a long drive down from Munnar, a mountain town specialising in the production of tea, and a quick stop at our hotel for lunch and a quick dip in the pool, we bundled ourselves back into our private minibus for our afternoon adventures. We picked up our tour guide for the day and visited a spice plantation, where we saw dozens of spices including pepper, cinnamon, nutmeg, ginger and cloves and tasted some freshly picked cardamom, before setting off once more to have some real fun… at an elephant park.

Our first near death experience occurred just outside the elephant park. Two huge buses were parked mere millimetres away from each other, leaving a minuscule crack that an insect would have had difficulty squeezing through. Our driver drove fearlessly towards this tiny gap, ignoring the fact that even light was having difficulty in forcing itself through the virtually non-existent path. My blood ran cold as we inched further and further towards the tiny gap and certain death. Seconds before entering the passage of doom our desperate tour guide managed to convince the courage driver that we would be fine to walk the last few metres. What would have been our last drive was halted just centimetres from the death-trap. Whew!

After walking up a winding gravel road into the forest we came to a large clearing. There were people everywhere, sitting around on long wooden benches, talking loudly to each other, wandering around looking confused. Most of the commotion was situated at a step of rickety steps leading up to an unstable looking platform. Both the steps and the platform were packed with people gesturing wildly and stamping their feet like a stampede of buffalo. Children dashed around in mad circles, seemingly uninterested in the confusing chatter of the adults. My eyes allowed me only a second to take in this scene of chaos before latching onto the excited group of Chinese tourists at the edge of the platform. They were laughing giddily as they scrambled onto a… onto a… At this point my brain went into a fast freeze, refusing to process the image of the huge elephant waiting patiently for the Chinese tourists to climb on. I knew it had said ‘elephant ride’ on our day plan but I hadn’t expected, well, this. I mean, the biggest animal I’d ever been on was one of those tiny ponies they have at circuses, the ones with the size and speed of a dead snail. This would be a colossal step forward in terms of my animal riding experiences. Literally.

We watched the elephant with the Chinese tourists lumber slowly down a lumpy dirt path until it disappeared behind the trees. Then we found ourselves one of the many gnarled wooden benches and sat down to wait our turn. By sat down I mean that my brother and my sister immediately ran off to explore with Olympic sprinter enthusiasm and I busied myself with planning strategies for not falling from the elephant and dying a grisly death. After a little while an exhausted looking worker hurried over and hastily told us that it would be a maximum fifteen minutes wait until it was our turn. About thirty minutes later he hustled back and told us, looking extremely tired and stressed, that it was now our turn. Heart pounding with a a mixture of fear and anticipation, I followed him and the others towards the platform.

We scrambled up the wooden steps, which were as unstable as they looked, and onto the platform. Here the worker had a brief but intense argument with one unhappy family who had been waiting far longer than us (being a white foreigner has its privileges) which ended with my dad, brother and sister being bundled onto the waiting elephant before it could turn into a full scale war. I watched their elephant lurch into the distance as my mum struggled to take some pictures before they disappeared, not sure whether to feel disappointed or relieved.

We waited on the ominously creaking platform for about another fifteen minutes before the next elephant trundled slowly into view. My heart started pounding faster again. The thought ‘I am definitely going to fall off’ had taken up permanent residence in my head. After a torturous wait of what felt like hours, the elephant finally reached the side of the platform. Just as I was about to launch into panic attack mode, the unhappy family, who had morphed into the extremely angry family, charged into the picture. The poor worker didn’t stand a chance. Mere seconds later, the now cheerful family climbed triumphantly onto the elephant and disappeared in a cloud of dust. The wait began once more.

Far too soon another elephant parked itself next to the platform. Two adults and numerous tiny children slithered off, looking faintly sick but happy. Their smiling faces did nothing to calm my raging nerves. Before I had a chance to protest I was hastily hustled onto the broad back of the elephant, where I immediately focused all my attention on not falling off. I hunted desperately for a seatbelt, a safety harness or, well, anything while my mum clambered on behind me, but there was nothing. The only thing protecting me from falling to my death was a tiny pair of wooden handles that you were supposed to hold onto. I gripped them tightly enough to make my knuckles turn white, and had time for one deep, steadying breath before we were off.

The first step was even worse than I’d feared. I felt like I was trapped in the middle of an earthquake. I was bounced about twenty metres above the elephant (okay, so maybe it was more like twenty millimetres but the effect was just as scary) and my stomach turned several somersaults in rapid succession. I dug my  fingers into the handles and gritted my teeth. Just as I was managing to regain my fragile grip on calmness, the elephant took another step forward and my position atop the coarse blanket slipped just the tiniest fraction. Holding my breath, I sank as far back into the blanket as I could and dug my feet into the stirrup-like things that dangled over the elephant’s sides. Trying not to panic, I braced myself for the next step.

The step was bad, but not as bad as the first. Instead of being a gigantic lurch it was more of a mixture of lurching and swaying. I allowed myself to loosen my death grip on the handles, and even managed to direct a chunk of my mind away from thoughts of falling and towards the view. At that moment our elephant was plodding out of the noisy clearing and down a gentle slope into the cool, quiet, depths of the forest. I felt my body become accustomed to the movements of the elephant as I watched the leaves rustle lazily in the trees and a pheasant streak across the forest like a brightly coloured dream. Eventually I even mustered up the courage to let go of one of the handles and stroke the elephant’s neck, which was warm and covered with thick, brittle hairs.

I soon realised that our elephant was new to the job as she had to be led along by one of the staff, unlike the elephants in front and behind us, who just trundled peacefully along without any guidance whatsoever. At first I worried that this would mean she would lose control and go on a wild rampage through the forest, but when time passed and nothing happened I eventually relaxed. However, about halfway through the ride, the elephant suddenly stopped. ‘Oh no,’ I thought, ‘She’s about to go on a rampage.’ I peered over the elephant’s shoulder and saw a flash of green streak across my vision. Huh? Looking closer, I saw that the elephant was holding a large, leafy branch in her trunk. With a contented sigh she opened her mouth wide and took a huge bite. I had to laugh as I watched the worker who had been leading the elephant try in vain to make her move, commanding her to go in a brisk voice, loudly repeating her name, and even rapping her lightly on the leg with a stick. But the elephant refused to budge until she had completely finished her highly nutritious, afternoon snack. 🙂

Sadly, it was now time to return to where we had started. We had just reached the edge of the clearing, and I was saying a silent goodbye to the peaceful forest and the wonderful elephant who had carried us, when the elephant leader asked if we wanted any pictures. My mum cautiously extracted the camera from her shoulder bag and gingerly passed it down to him. He only managed to snap one or two hasty pictures before my dad, whose elephant ride had already ended, rushed up for his turn with the camera.

My dad was just snapping the fourth or fifth picture (after all, it never hurts to have spares) when my brother dashed over to us, proudly yelling that his elephant’s name was Usha. Upon hearing this I resolved to ask about our elephant’s name, so that I would have something more concrete than an image to remember her by, but my brother beat me to it, marching right up to the elephant leader and boldly asking his question. But what he got wasn’t certainly wasn’t what he expected! Instead of answering his question the elephant leader wrapped an arm around his waist and promptly hoisted him onto the elephant!!! My brother was too astonished to formulate a proper protest. Luckily he managed to grab my mum’s hand before he fell straight back onto the ground. 😉

My brother… the impostor

Elephant Ride 🙂

Shortly afterwards, I found myself sliding clumsily off the elephant’s back, the ride was over. I gave her a last farewell rub on the neck and waved her goodbye as I wobbled my way off the platform and down the wooden stairs. I half expected that to be the end, but the fun wasn’t over yet. Now we were going to… wash an elephant!

We followed our tour guide and one of the staff up a gentle slope back into the forest. I’d only walked a few steps when I had the unearthly feeling of being watched. Spinning around, I saw not a ghost, but a female elephant with peaceful brown eyes and the most adorable splatter of freckle-like spots around her trunk. Greatly relieved that I wasn’t being haunted, I grinned at her and continued up the slope.

After a few more minutes we reached a small path that forked off the larger one and led to a shallow stone basin.  The water in the basin was a suspicious murky brown and the stench rising from the basin made my eyes water unpleasantly. Leaves floated lazily about…  and suddenly started swirling frantically as the elephant shuffled past me and calmly stepped into the water. The two men who had led her up kicked off their shoes and leaped in after her. I watched as the two men shouted a command and the elephant obediently crouched, a position I imagine would be seriously hard to contort your body into when your legs are as thick as tree trunks. Then, with a world-weary sigh that seemed to say, ‘Just get it over with’ she lowered herself even further down until she was lying flat on the floor of the basin.

Our tour guide watched me expectantly until I cautiously clambered into the basin after my brother and sister, holding my breath against the stink that wafted up from the water like an evil serpent. The two men, who were both already wielding huge brushes, motioned for us to come closer as they began their elephant washing demonstration. First they started scrubbing viciously at the elephant’s hide, before splashing cascades of filthy water in all directions. Then, with the demonstration over, they grinned happily and continued with their work.I waded through the water to the edge where a my own brush was waiting for me. It was even more colossal up close,  like a brush fit for a… well, an elephant. With the brush sitting securely in my hand I shuffled carefully back to the elephant, trying not to tread in whatever it was that made the water smell so foul. I started at the elephant’s leg, giving it a few tentative strokes at first, then rubbing harder once I realised the elephant probably wouldn’t feel anything through her thick, leathery skin. I started to feel sorry for the elephant, who had to lie there in muddy (and God knows what else) water with her legs splayed out in an almost painfully uncomfortable position. I decided to make it up to her by making her as tidy and clean as I possibly could.

Mission Elephant Wash

Me, my brother and my sister soon fell into the soothing rhythm of washing the elephant by rubbing, scrubbing and washing. My brother seemed to enjoy the last part the most, splashing so vigorously that most of the water hit me even when I was on the other side of the elephant! Me and my sister worked on the elephant’s right side, while my brother worked on the left. The two professional elephant washers took care of the elephant’s head, thoroughly scrubbing the trunk and face.

Eventually my brother and my sister abandoned the murky basin but I stayed, far too busy with the state of the elephant’s toenails to leave. The state of these toenails all but broke my heart. The were brown, stained, muddy, filthy, chipped and cracked. I scrubbed desperately at them, lovingly rubbing at the worn edges and forcing the brittle hairs of my brush into even the tiniest grooves. I was just wondering how I could start a charity to raise money for the care of elephant toenails, when our tour guide announced that it was time for an elephant shower. I wasn’t sure exactly what this was, but it sounded fun, so I volunteered to go first.

Almost as soon as I’d spoken, one of the elephant washers wrapped his hands around my waist and lifted me onto the now clean elephant, which had risen into a kneeling position. I sat there, motionless, feeling dumb and confused. How was I supposed to have a shower here? I watched as some of the staff moved a bucket of clean water onto the ledge and the elephant dipped her trunk into it, feeling more baffled than ever. Maybe the elephant wanted to have a drink and then I was meant to have shower a – ARRRGH WATER EXPLOSION!!!!!!!!!! Water from the elephant’s trunk cascaded around me in a freezing waterfall. At last the barrage ended, leaving me drenched and shivering. Blinking water out of my eyes, I looked down at my brother, sister, mum and dad, who were giving me open-mouthed goldfish gapes. I grinned proudly down at them. This was awe – OH NO WATER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I shortly discovered that, as well as having a Round 2, the elephant shower also had a Round 3, 4 ,5 ,6 and 7. By the time I slithered unsteadily from the elephant’s back I was freezing cold and soaked to the bone. My drenched  shorts clung to me like a second skin, my T-shirt held enough liquid to fill a swimming pool and my dripping hair was giving me its own shower. I stumbled out of the pool, my teeth chattering, where someone was kind enough to hand me a towel. It was a scary but fun experience!

ELEPHANT SHOWER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Morals of this true story:

1. Elephant rides are not as scary as they look.
2. Elephant toenails are an endangered species. We must save them while we can.
3. ELEPHANT SHOWERS ARE AWESOME!!!

 

 

Sighting the Leopard

On the 12th May at 12:30 pm we arrived at Kabini Lake View Resort. I was exhausted after a 5 hour drive from Bangalore and wanted to get as much rest as possible before our first safari. Soon after that, we were out and about again, driving towards Nagarhole Tiger Reserve. As we approached the reserve, I spotted a safari bus. We then stepped out of our mini bus and into the safari bus. Although we were lucky enough to see lots of animals, as described in “The Two Kabini Safaris”, we didn’t actually see a leopard. Many people claim to have seen one but it must have been at least 100 metres away, so nobody could see properly without binoculars and also partly because everybody was shoving and pushing you neatly away so they could get a better view. Anyway, it was too far away to tell if it was actually a leopard or if it was just a pile of leaves or a stuffed cuddly leopard toy. When we had finished that safari, we drove back to the resort  to get a good night’s sleep because the next day was the morning safari.

On the 13th May we drove down to the Nagarhole Tiger Reserve again for our morning safari. We stepped into the safari bus and it shot off into the reserve. As we rattled along noisily, someone spotted a few Jeeps ahead. Our driver called down to one of the Jeep drivers and asked,”Why are you all standing around here?”
“There’s a leopard in that tree there, the tree that’s closest to us,” whispered the Jeep driver back excitedly. And then we saw it, just a patch of golden fur and some spots but that didn’t matter to us because it was just so close. The Jeeps had long since driven off but the leopard was still eyeing us suspiciously. Eventually, the leopard got up, excited whispers rose in the bus. And then the moment came which we were all waiting for, the moment when the leopard slid lazily but gracefully along the branch towards the trunk of the tree. The branch quivered with the sheer beauty of the creature as it moved.

Slowly, it stepped cautiously onto the branch just below the one it had been lying on. It did so till it was on the lowest branch. The leopard gave one last glance at us. It seemed to last forever, but in reality it was only a matter of seconds before the leopard jumped. Now on the ground, the leopard moved easily and quickly. It trotted away at a sensible speed and we watched it till it disappeared . But I am sure that everyone who was on that safari will never forget the jump. Ever.

 

The Two Kabini Safaris

Safari 1
Time: 5pm-7pm
The Safari:
We took the bus to the Nagarhole Tiger Reserve. And found a massive safari bus waiting for us. This was a pre-booked safari but unfortunately they waited for an extra ten people to come, so that everyone was squished up and found it hard not to get in each others way. Luckily the bus had massive windows and elevated everyone’s position which helped a lot when it came to spotting animals. Soon we were out, driving through the jungle. After half an hour we had seen wild boars, monkeys, Indian Bison, more deer than we could count, serpent eagles, kingfishers and much more. A little later we headed down to a lake to see elephants. There were at least twenty huge elephants and some miniature – well, only miniature if you compared them to the adult elephants – baby elephants. It was amazing but when we moved on we didn’t stop, well only once. We stopped beside a group of jeeps in which all the people were looking excitedly into the trees and trying to spot something. Finally, after a lot of asking around, we discovered that there was a leopard in the trees. That was when one of the guides came back and took my binoculars because the guides hadn’t brought their own ones. After a while I got them back and after I looked I handed them around to my family and some other people. Next we continued back on a very bumpy track. I was sitting at the back and at some points I almost flew out the window and at others I almost flew down the aisle. As I said, it was a very, very bumpy ride. I felt like someone had put me in a giant tin can and had gotten a giant to shake it around. Oh, wait, the tin can had windows and there were animals outside it. Soon after, a group of shaken people arrived back at the entry to the national park and quickly escaped the iron beast, to go to the holiday resort… and have dinner. So that was the first safari.

Indian Bison

Monkeys

Safari 2
Time: 7am-9am
The Safari:
It was very early morning, but we were already awake. We knocked on Vinod’s door and found out that he wasn’t coming. Dave, Apurv and Riminda weren’t coming either. At least Laura, Adam and Julia were coming. By the way, these are all trainers from Thoughtworks. Anyway, we were finally departing to go to the safari. The second safari was better than the first even though we didn’t see as many animals, this was because the hundreds of deer we saw on the last safari weren’t up yet. The thing was, that everything that was up, was wide awake. Some deer were fighting and even some wild chickens were awake.

 

We saw so much. We must have seen all the species from the first safari and more. We saw peacocks and boars, elephants and… a mongoose, and… while we were on the way back we saw a (drum role) leopard! It was so close. Barely 20 metres away. It was in a tree but after a while it climbed off the tree and into plain sight. We were amazed. And even now as I sit here typing and remembering that safari… I remember it as the best.

Mongoose

 

 

Savandurga

Savandurga Hill

Last Sunday we finally managed to get way beyond the boundaries of Bangalore. Our destination was Savandurga Hill, one of the largest monoliths of India, about 35 km from Bangalore, rising to 1226m. We had admired the landscape on TV watching Passage to India back in Australia. Little did we know then that we would be living pretty close to the location where all the hill scenes were filmed.

Ian is very busy with work at the moment as the Thoughtworks University semester is well on the way, so the organisation of this little trip was my affair. Various tour operators offer adventure packages in the area but as I also read that there is a signposted way going up this hill I decided we would have enough adventure walking by ourselves. I managed to order a cab with driver for Sunday morning 8 o’clock and buy plenty of food for a picnic.

Sunday morning started with bag packing, breakfast, filling plenty of water bottles and the usual trouble to explain to a driver with little English on the phone where we live. Eventually he found our closest landmark, the Toshiba building. Everybody was in high spirits as I had allowed us the luxury of a 7 seater car with aircon. So we closed the windows and submitted ourselves to the wisdom of the driver to get us out of the city. He didn’t really choose the direction I would have expected but he would know, would he not…? I have been feeling like an alien in this city since we arrived, this time this feeling was even stronger… driving along through the hustle and bustle of Bangalore like in a silver spaceship, smells shut out, noises muffled, just the shapes and colours reach my eyes.

It took about an hour to get to the western outskirts of town. Finally the houses thinned out making room for some dry barren land and a bit of greenery. The ever present cows eating some bushes rather than rubbish like in the city. Further out we spotted mango and banana plantations. We drove through a few villages, poverty staring at our space ship from every door step. Barefoot children, women washing clothes in front of houses on the floor, shrines with fresh offerings… less rubbish though. And no more posh buildings with guards hanging around outside. A procession making its way to the village temple carrying something colourful on a litter, some people in the front dressed up… our spaceship didn’t stop. Another time a herd of sheep blocks the road. I have to say, I preferred to slow down for some sheep to being stuck in Bangalore traffic between motorbikes, rickshaws, buses and cars, listening to the cacophony of horns.

The Big Banyan Tree

Our first stop was the Big Banyan Tree. It is supposed to be one of the biggest of its kind in India, covering 12,000 sqm. Apparently such a tree starts of as a harmless epiphyte spreading roots into every direction. Once these roots reach the earth, the tree gets so many nutrients that it goes into a massive growth spurt usually crushing its host in the process. Well, this tree’s host died nearly half a century ago which means nothing left nor could we recognise where the actual centre of the tree was. The whole area of the tree is a blissfully shady park with little walkways, benches and a little temple (of course banyan trees are sacred). We could hardly believe that this whole jungle was really  o n e  tree. We watched some sacred monkeys playing about and obviously the tree was also home to myriads of the sacred squirrels.

Moving on we very soon spotted our destination, a monolith that size is not good at hiding. It took another half hour or so get to the foot of the mountain at the right spot but I didn’t mind. Driving through the countryside was such a pleasure… bush land, a lake, rocky hills instead of noisy, dirty city chaos. We arrived just before 11. There is a village and some temples but we were keen to get going with our walk as it was getting quite hot. We planned to look at the temples later. But where to get up the hill? I had read that there was an easy and a hard way up and nothing about a start point of either of those routes. I tried my luck with an old man walking by and he spoke English indeed! He pointed us into the right direction but warned us about the heat and that it was too late in the day to attempt the climb. Hm. So we walked through the tiny village past a tiny market and some stalls selling snacks and drinks. As we started going towards a grand looking gate the locals called to us and pointed us into another direction.

Going up Savandurga Hill

Yes of course, a family of white people with back packs… it wasn’t hard to guess where we wanted to go. So we followed a narrow path through the bushes before the view opened to our way up, up and a bit more up the rock. We took a little break here and got the sun cream out. Despite the closeness to the equator we had hardly needed sun protection in Bangalore so far. The dust and dirt are thick enough in the city to filter out any harmful and unharmful radiation. Not out here, the air was so much cleaner! Anyway, standing around and waiting for everybody to be ready we noticed a boy about Grainne’s age who seemed to have joined us. He hardly spoke any English but made it quite clear that he wanted to be our guide. Hm… I didn’t think we really needed a guide. Ian tried to convey this and gave him a little money hoping that this would satisfy him and he would leave us alone. But that was a mistake… it might not be a very nice comparison but I caught myself being reminded of a hungry dog – once you start feeding it you will not be able to get rid of it. And so our guide accompanied us all the way up and most of the way back. He kept pointing us into the right direction even though the way was really well signposted, he offered a helping

Further up, Frangipanis in the background

hand at difficult stretches which nobody accepted, he refused to take any food from us. Just once, nearly at the top he took some water Ian had offered him. We kept wondering how he could manage… barefooted, without any drink or food.
But back to our climb. The way went steeply up the rock face. It was getting hot and so our progress was not exactly rocket fast. But it didn’t matter, we had all the time we wanted. Whenever we found a speck of shade beside a boulder or under some scarce trees we took advantage of it. But there wasn’t much as the sun took its position nearly vertically above us (just look at the tiny shadows in the picture). The legs got tired soon and shaky. Some stretches were so steep we had to climb on all fours (and wondered how on earth we were gonna make it back down). To regenerate a bit we decided to have our picnic before we got to the top, partly because we found a particularly big piece of shade under some old castle ruins.

On top of Savandurga Hill

From there it was just another 20 minutes or so to the top. The view was spectacular. Rocky, dry wilderness as far as the eye could see in the slightly hazy air. Some villages and buildings sprinkled in. It could have been somewhere in Western Australia or in Zimbabwe. Lovely… the air was clear, one could take deep breaths of it without worrying about dust or smell. No rubbish, no noise, no crowds… I wished this place wasn’t so far away from the city and I could come here more often.
And down we went again. Not completely careless… legs felt shaky, sun burning down. It was about 1 o’clock. It would take us 1 and a half hours to make our way back to the valley. I was very pleased we had carried all that water, we drunk it all up by the end. And I was pleased everybody was so careful and nobody got hurt. More than once we all went on our bottoms to make it down the steep stretches. For the last half hour I guess at least everybody’s feet ached and all we could think of were cool drinks or ice cream and one family member in particular kept longing for that air-conditioned car to relax in 😉 Well, it was hardly surprising. I reckon we had climbed about 300 – 400 meters of altitude, not exactly easy without practice. We watched a few groups of Indian men climbing up / down… barefoot or in thongs, hardly anybody carrying water… I don’t know, did they have lots of practice or just didn’t have the option of trainers and back packs full of food…

The elephant rock

Finally down. The village is bustling with life. We managed to get some lukewarm Fantas and stood in the shade of one of the temples gulping them down. The place seemed very communal. Some celebration going on in the house across the street. A bright yellow house under a bright red blossoming flame tree, women in saris of all colours walking by… colourful India!
Nobody felt in the mood to visit the temples, so we walked straight back to the cab, woke up our driver and started  back home. I felt a little reluctant to drive back into the loud chaos of the city… but what could we do.

All in all a lovely little adventure. Savandurga gave us a little glimps of rural India, the challenge of a rewarding climb and gorgeous views into the country. And of course precious time spent together as a family 🙂

 

Monkeys and More!

In my opinion, monkeys are practically the most interesting animals in the world. I am amazed by every step they take in life. Watching them eating, drinking, playing and sleeping fascinates me, that is why when we visited the Big Banyan Tree I was absolutely overjoyed to find a family of monkeys behind the tree. They were everywhere, even on a car! 😉

Beloved towel

Thoughtful