”Itchy Feet..get ready for a wild vacation”..Economic Times does a short story on The Wanderers in their special 2012 Edition “Firms that make fun”
Read the full article here - http://epaper.timesofindia.com/Default/Scripting/ArticleWin.asp?From=Archive&Source=Page&Skin=ETNEW&BaseHref=ETM%2F2011%2F12%2F30&PageLabel=46&ForceGif=true&EntityId=Ar04500&ViewMode=HTML
The Commander jeep hurtled down NH 31A from Gangtok to Teesta Bazar at breakneck speed. Sitting at the back is not a comfortable way of travelling in these hills if you are in a taxi loaded with 13 passengers including the driver and the cleaner! Brief glimpses of the beautiful Teesta River from the gaps between a dozen heads kept me occupied. The constant banter of the 3 young ladies flirting with the driver in Nepali, the local language, was what really worried me. In any case he was perched precariously on the edge of the seat with part of his body hanging out and every time a bend appeared he would lean his full body on the wheel to turn the vehicle. He either fell on the lady next to him – an action that brought peels of laughter from the 3 ladies in front – or he simply disappeared out of the jeep depending on the turn. They found this very amusing. Not me. I was praying.
By the time we reached Teesta Bazar, it was hot and sunny. The altitude not more than 2000ft. On the left, the road turned to Kalimpong, 14 kms away. A quaint hill station famous for its flower nurseries and pleasant weather throughout the year, the place makes for an excellent two-day detour in one’s itinerary. There’s a Tibetan Lama in Kalimpong whose ‘magical’ cures for arthritis and other such diseases are legendary in the area. The Churches and the Colonial buildings in town are worth a visit too.
We took the right bifurcation and crossed the Teesta River as our destination was Darjeeling, still a couple of hours drive away. Soon, the steep climb up Peshoke Road began. First and second gear stuff with sharp twists and turns. The flirting up front continued. Minutes later, we were up on the mountain once again – the Teesta, a small silver streak down below. There was a perceptible change in temperature and it much cooler as we went past a tea garden. The tea pickers, with huge baskets slung on their backs, were unmindful of the vehicles that passed as they went on with their “two buds and a leaf” routine. It was picture postcard scenery all along. Soon, we were enveloped by a thick fog as we crossed a forest of pine trees. The driver halted for lunch at a small village beside the road.
I entered a roadside stall for lunch and surveyed the scene. Three leather jacketed men, with caps worn loosely on their heads, were on the far corner drinking rum and playing cards. The cigarettes hung carelessly on their lips. The old lady who apparently owned the joint served them momos and they exchanged greetings. They seemed to know each other quite well. The pretty girl who manned the busy counter, and looked like the old lady’s daughter, took care of shop front business. It was good business too. Many of the jeeps stop here on their way up or down from Darjeeling before embarking on the steep ascent or descent depending on where they were bound. The passengers alight to walk around a bit or kick around.
I ordered pork momos with soup. It was delicious.
Ghoom came next. It’s the highest railroad station in Asia at 8,000ft. The fog was very thick here and it was drizzling. I was worried about my rucksack tied above the jeep. The ‘cleaner’, a wiry young lad of 12, was cocky to the core. “Not waterproof?” he asked grinning. “I don’t know”, I said. “ You shouldn’t buy cheap Indian stuff,” he said in mock disgust. I made a mental note not to touch his jeep with a bargepole next time.
The jeep was now moving towards Darjeeling. An old familiar smell. The smell of mist floating in the mountains and fumes from passing vehicles. The sight was familiar too – the toy train track running parallel to the road; the landrovers still chugging along quite well; pretty ladies with colourful umbrellas walking daintily around a puddle, the hand lifting the long gown a wee bit.
Then the mist parted for a moment. And through the gap I saw the town of Darjeeling -spread across the hillside. The sun shining magically on the hill, the rays reflecting off the wet tin roofs in a dazzling display of pin point light.
Over the next few days I visited my old haunts in Darjeeling. Stayed at Dekelling on the Mall where Norbu and his wife took good care of me. Strolled down the Mall. Had breakfast at Keventers- hot dog and hot chocolate- the same stuff I had first tasted in 1979, during my first visit to Darjeeling. Bought a jacket and a ‘monkey’ cap from the stalls lined up on the Mall. Glenary’s for pastries, Das Studio for my usual replenishment of film rolls and picture postcards. Sat on the bench at the square watching three generations of people eating, chatting, laughing, reading or simply watching others the way I was.
Early one morning, I walked all the way past the Mall and down the lane past the Windamere and Loretto Convent. A clear bright day following three days of indifferent weather. The sun was up, shining coyly through the leaves of the trees that lined the road. I walked aimlessly down the road soaking in the crisp Himalayan air. The Khangchendzonga range was visible clearly. The forked peak of the third highest peak in the world towered above the rest of the peaks. Cold, distant and silent. I watched fascinated as always at the sight before me. An old ‘sweeper’ who was cleaning the road looked at me and smiled knowingly. It was clear that the magic had worked on him every moment of his life.
Time ticked and caught up with me. I hurried down the road towards the zoo. I didn’t want to be late to see the two snow leopards playing in their cage before they disappeared for their feed.
Copyright 2000, Wanderers Leisure Travels Pvt Ltd, Mumbai.
“ Almost heaven, West Virginia, blue ridged mountains, Shenandoh river..”.
Denver took hold of my senses halfway between Mysore and Ooty, somewhere in the middle of dense jungles of Bandipur. The forest whizzed past. It was around 3 in the afternoon but the canopy formed by the trees shut out the sunlight and allowed the passage of streaks of sunlight that formed an eerie image on the black stretch of forest road. This was a journey I was getting to love. It was a journey of the senses that had been screaming for help over the past year, wanting an out from the staid existence back home in Calcutta. The forest, the streams and the distant hills beyond, beckoned me. And sitting in the bus I allowed myself to zoom through a corridor of strained light right into the lap of nature at the other end. It was a meeting of lovers kept apart by circumstances. One, a confused youth from the city and the other a demure lass full of beauty and wisdom.
I needed this break as much as my friends. Calcutta had taken its toll. Sipping our tea in a roadside stall, we had decided to pack our rucksacks and head South. Over the last ten days the five of us had journeyed through the confusion in Chennai (then Madras), rode piggy back on my brother in law in Bangalore (till he wanted an out too), almost got crushed to death in a stampede on the parapet walls of the dam in Brindavan gardens and found relief in the green hills of Madikere in Coorg. Fresh out of college, no job in hand and a future as dark as the forest we were passing through, the five of us had decided to stray far away from our homes in Calcutta.
The girl seated across the aisle turned and smiled at me. I smiled back. She clung on to her doll tightly. I clung on to my dreams and watched the jungle pass me by. We were passing through the Bandipur National Park on our way to Ooty. The bus rumbled through the dense jungle. The others were sleeping. Amit with his head weaving over the aisle like a pendulum; Sanjay waking up sheepishly after every bump on the window sill; Bumba resting most of his 80 kilos on the thin old man seated next to him crushing him under his weight; Ashis snoring by my side. All presenting a picture of tired minds and bodies in need of rest. But I stayed awake with Denver for company. Sleep doesn’t come to me easily on such journeys. My mind wanders.
The sight of a large herd of elephants brought out squeals of delight from the little girl. The commotion woke the others up. The giant beasts were tied in chains next to the road. Bells dangled from their colossal neck and chimed with their movements. There was a gap in the thick foliage. A lovely clearing with some huts on the other side of a small stream held our attention. Then the bus roared around a sharp bend. Both the elephants and the clearing vanished from sight. It always saddens me to see elephants in chains. Somehow, I always think of these majestic animals roaming the jungles freely without care. Not sheathed in chains as beasts of burden..
..And then the climb up the Blue mountains began. We turned and twisted up the ghat roads. The scenery took our breath away. By now the others were wide-awake soaking in the splendour of the blue ridges of the Nilgiris. The setting sun created magic on these mountains and the ranges seemed to blush in delight at we watched her unabashedly allowing our minds to wander all over her beauty, wanting her like a long lost lover. Each turn showed us a different dimension of nature – every scene casting a spell on us, vibrating within us till our minds seemed to burst. Looking at our happy faces I realised that this was the closest I would come to feel Utopia on this trip.
Over the next five days we explored the town of Ooty. The quaint market place bustling with the post Diwali holiday crowd, the numbing cold of the evenings spent at the Botanical gardens and the boating on the lake; the excursion to Coonoor and our delight at seeing the botanical gardens at Sims Park with its wide variety of roses. We visited Dodabeta peak and marvelled at the breathtaking views from the place. But most of all, I still remember the wonderful after dinner sessions of animated conversation in the dormitory beds of the Youth Hostel; the carefree laughter of five disillusioned youths from Calcutta who found temporary Nirvana in the Blue Mountains of the South. And still the haunting strains of Denver kept me company in the cold, moonlit nights after the lights in the dormitory were switched off .
..dark and dusty painted on the sky, misty taste of moonshine, teardrop in my eye..
Copyright 2000, Wanderers Leisure Travels Pvt Ltd, Mumbai.
Facts on Ooty:
New name: Udhagamandalam. Also called ‘Queen of the Hill stations’.
Best season: January to March due to less rush. Otherwise, coinciding with the holidays, April-June and Sep-Oct are good too. November-Feb can get quite cold. It rains from June to Sept and greenery is at its best with a plethora of waterfalls all over.
How to reach: By road it is 165 kms approx from Mysore. By train one can take the quaint Nilgiri Blue Mountain railway from Mettupalayam in the plains to Ooty (46kms via Coonoor).
What to see: Botanical gardens, St Stephens Church, Government Museum, Fernhill Palace, Dodabetta peak. A day excursion to Coonoor and the magnificent Sims Park.
Moving on, one can visit the Mudumalai wildlife sanctuary and Bandipur National Park en route to Mysore.
A good route: Bangalore-Mysore-Madikere (Coorg)-Bandipur-Ooty-Vythri-Calicut. Can be done in 10-12 days.
If variety is the spice of life then India surely must rank as one of the most exotic and rare concoctions ever devised by God. In the cultural and historical cauldron that makes India so special, there is unity in diversity – a saying that every child must learn at the history classes in school and one that he will swear by for the rest of his life. During your travels in India, at every step you will be faced by this diversity – in the people, the geography, history, the architecture, the language and the lifestyles of the people.
It is a land that is steeped in history; where every stone has witnessed the passage of time and has a story to tell- of 33,00,00,000 Gods and Goddesses prancing in their playgrounds, of Kings and Queens, brave warriors, faithful stallions, courage and treachery and noble deeds; of freedom fighters and Godmen, sages and saints, preachers and poets – the list is endless.
It is a land whose parentage can be traced back to more than 3500 years. And since then various dynasties and Kingdoms have shaped its turbulent and checkered history down the ages. It is all still evident in the ruins, monuments, forts, battlefields and palaces that still reverberate with the sound of battle and distant war cries.
Geographically, India has everything that a visitor may seek. From the remote high altitude regions of the high Himalayas to the mesmeric coast that overlooks two seas and an ocean, from the fertile plains of the Gangetic belt to the arid desert in Rajasthan, India has everything. Crisscrossing the length and breadth of the country are rivers, most of which are associated with the many Gods that Indians worship today – the most venerable being the Ganges and the Yamuna. The other great rivers that flow from the Himalayas are the Indus, the five sisters of Punjab- Jhelum, Chenab, Ravi, Sutlej and Beas – the river Teesta that tumbles down Sikkim and the mighty Brahmaputra that flows through the North East bringing both wealth as well as destruction in its wake. In the plains, the other great rivers are the Narmada that originates in Madhya Pradesh, the Cauvery in Tamil Nadu and Karnataka and the Mahanadi in Orissa to name a few.
The mesmerising beauty of the Himalayas has over the years attracted sages, explorers and adventurers alike. It is here that the Gods resided and till date this region is associated deeply with religion. The peaks and the passes continue to draw the mountaineer in search of the final climb that will give them ‘moksha’ or liberty. The pilgrims come here each year in search of peace and enlightenment. Exotic and challenging trails draw thousands of trekkers to the Himalayas that swing like a necklace from Kashmir in the West to Arunachal Pradesh in the East. The rivers attract the rafters and kayakers who wish to tame the deadly rapids. Undoubtedly, the Himalayan range is nature’s biggest gift to India. It has a vast coastline and pristine and little known beaches dot the coast. Goan beaches rake in the tourist moolah each year in the beach category alongwith Varkala and Kovalam in Kerala.
The harsh and fascinating desert regions of Rajasthan continue to be one of India’s biggest attractions. Fairy tale fortresses, richly adorned palaces and havelis and eternal love stories of beautiful princesses and brave Kings draw tourists by the thousand every year. There are jungles that reverberate with the roar of the tiger and the lion and no two of them are similar. From Corbett in the North to Periyar in the South, from Gir Forest in Gujarat to Namdhapa in Arunachal Pradesh each of them is distinct climatically, geographically and in the rich diversity of the flora and fauna.
The people of India are diverse and fascinating too. From the Gujjars in the Himalayas who rear their sheep and cattle in the bugyals (high altitude meadows) to the Adi tribe in Arunachal Pradesh, from the santhals of Bengal and Bihar to the fishermen of the Konkan coast, from the friendly Kinnauris of Himachal Pradesh to the fierce and primitive Jarawas of Andaman, each of them is unique. There are sub castes within each caste and inspite of intercaste problems, nowhere is unity in diversity more apparent than in India. The different strains of religions range from Hinduism, Islam, Christianity to Sikhism, Judaism and Zoroastrianism.
Temples, Churches, mosques can be found everywhere and as you roam the length and breadth of the country, you will be amazed to see that a temple in the North is so different from a temple in the South; that the Dilwara temple in Mt Abu has spectacular carvings and yet is so different from the masterpieces of Khajuraho or the Sun temple at Konarak. The Golden Temple of the Sikhs at Amritsar is beautiful yet different from the lovely Rumtek Monastery of the Buddhists in Sikkim or Sanchi Stupa in Madhya Pradesh.
Great minds from Gautama Buddha to Vivekananda have influenced the cultural and religious unity of India. Great leaders from Chattrapati Shivaji to Mahatma Gandhi have struggled for Independence and fought in their own ways against colonial tyranny. During your travels you will step on their footprints and follow their tracks. At each turn you will face at least a hundred years of history. You may hate India and despise the filth, poverty and oppressive red tape that will leave you frustrated but once you have experienced India, it is unlikely that you will remain unchanged.
Copyright 2000, Wanderers Leisure Travels Pvt Ltd,Mumbai
We were at the ancient looking petrol pump in Wangdiphodrang town. Jigme, my friend and guide on the trip had gone to replenish his stock of Wills filters. I entered the ‘Black-necked Crane’ restaurant and ordered chicken ‘momos’ (kind of dumplings generally stuffed with pork) for breakfast. 10 minutes later I returned to the spotlessly clean main square.
The town, simply called ‘Wangdi’ (pronounced wongdi), is at an altitude of 4,430 ft and about 71 kms from Thimphu. I had spent the previous night at Punakha in a nondescript motel opposite the impressive Punakha Dzong on the confluence of the Mo Chu and Pho Chu rivers. The rivers met to form the picturesque Puna Tsang Chu River. In the morning, Jigme had collected me in a green Toyota pickup and we followed the river for about 45 minutes to reach Wangdi for fuel. It was 8.30 am on a crisp early November morning. There was not a speck of cloud in the sky. In the far horizon the dome shaped white peak of Mt. Jhomolhari was visible. Our destination was Bumthang in Central Bhutan, 200 kms away.
The central road over the Black Mountains…
” We are now entering wilderness country”, Jigme said soon after we left Wangdi. “There are no shops to buy anything till we reach Trongsa, 130 kms away.” I didn’t need anything as I had stocked my rucksack with all I would need for such an eventuality. The apples would serve me well till Trongsa and beyond.
The road snaked through the mountains as it followed the Dang Chu river which met the Puna Tsang Chu river at Wangdi just below the Dzong. A few kms from Wangdi, Jigme pointed out a prison in the valley below, flanking the river. It seemed out of place in such a serene and scenic location. The road climbed up steeply after the bridge at Tikke as we entered the Black Mountains. It is easy to understand why these mountains are thus called as one looks at the dark rock faces of the range in the distance. The area is sparsely inhabited and I could see farmhouses perched precariously on cliffs and hill tops. The jungles around here are dense and teeming with wild boar and Himalayan Black Bear. Only the previous week, ‘Kuensel’, the weekly newspaper had reported that a farmer was badly mauled by a bear near Nobding, a small village we crossed soon after. 7 kms beyond Nobding a road branched to the right. This road goes through a forest to Phobjika Valley at 9,840ft, 13 kms away, where Gangtey Monastery is located. Phobjika is the home of the rare black necked crane, which migrates from the Central Asiatic plateau to escape the harsh winters.
We continued down the road to Trongsa. Soon after this bifurcation the climb to Pele La Pass, 14 kms away, began. Near the Pass, on the right I could see the snow clad peaks of the Himalayan Range with Mt.Jhomolhari at 23,685 ft clearly visible. Only a few days ago I had seen the dome shaped peak as the backdrop to the ruins of Drukyel Dzong in Paro. This Pass at 10,825 ft is marked by a large prayer flag. The hillside around is covered with high altitude dwarf bamboo, a favourite food of yaks. If you are lucky, you can spot the yak herders who come down with their herd to the Pass for the winters.
Two huge bull-yaks were grunting and fighting fiercely on a slope beside the road as they locked horns. Jigme and our driver warned me not to go too close as I photographed them enthusiastically. The other yaks were fidgeting nervously as the two bulls tore the ground apart. I inched closer. Suddenly, there was a lull in the fighting and one bull yak just looked at me. Some wise man once said ‘adversity introduces a man to himself’. I turned and ran down the slope, past a bewildered Jigme, to the pickup!
On the other side of the Pass, the slopes were full of yaks feasting on the bamboo shoots. The young calves pranced nervously around their mothers. Even in Yumthang Valley in North Sikkim, I had not seen so many yaks in one place. This Pass marks the boundary between Central and Eastern Bhutan.
We descended rapidly and after Nikkarchu the road entered Trongsa district. We soon came across the huge white washed Chendebji Chorten next to the river. We halted here for packed lunch. Taking my camera, I walked down to the gurgling river. This is a fantastic place to spend a few quiet hours. There was not a soul in sight and the beauty of the place was overwhelming. I sat on a rock beside the river, munching my apples and watching a bird flirting with the water. This 18th century Chorten is Nepalese in style with eyes painted at the four cardinal points.
From Chendebji to Trongsa, the distance is 42 kms. The valley narrowed and the Mangde Chu river became a silver streak flowing hundreds of feet below the road. Jigme puffed his cigarette and announced, “For the next 20-25 kms, this gorge will remain deep and narrow. Vehicles that have fallen here have tumbled straight down to the valley floor below as it’s a sheer drop and there is nothing to stop the fall.” Seeing my nervousness, he said reassuringly, “Don’t worry, I’m sure one never feels a thing.” He also enlightened me that the Trongsa region is infested with snakes during the monsoons!
20 kms from Trongsa, we got our first enchanting view of the Trongsa Dzong clinging desperately to the cliff side across the gorge. The small township of Trongsa is scattered along the slopes. It took us an hour more to reach Trongsa. Bumthang was 68 kms away. It was 2 p.m. After an hour’s halt, we proceeded ahead.
Onwards to Bumthang.
The road went between the Dzong and the Ta Dzong (or the watchtower) and climbed sharply again. 29 kms from Trongsa, we reached Yotong La Pass (Yotola) at 11,155 ft. There was a sharp drop in temperature and we halted briefly to refresh ourselves. Then began the descent to Chumey Valley, the first of Bumthang’s four valleys- Chumey, Choekhor, Tang and Ura.
I had heard about the exotic valley of Bumthang and it’s early November festival from the locals when I first stepped into Bhutan after holidaying for 10 days in Sikkim. I had heard that it is an enchanting place not frequented by Indians because of it’s remoteness. So, when Jigme and his colleagues processed my papers and arranged for my trip to Bumthang in a pickup van that was carrying luggage for some foreign tourists, the last doubts related to lack of finance began dissipating. Finally, the wandering bug in me took over and I decided to venture into a region where few Indian tourists go…
The road went through a wide and immensely beautiful valley. The farmers were returning from their day’s work and laughed and waved at us. An enchanting stream escorted us for a few kms till we reached Jakar, the main township in Bumthang and the seat of administration.
Because of the four-day festival at Jampa Lhakhang, foreigners occupied all the few good lodges in the valley. I didn’t see a single Indian tourist in Bumthang during my stay there. I checked into a room above a provision store paying 110 Ngultrums a night (equivalent to the Indian rupee). It was the only motel in town and my home for the next three nights as I discovered paradise on earth. That night in sub-zero temperatures, I slept in a room that was damp and cold and dug deep into my sleeping bag for warmth. Bumthang valley, like Paro valley, is an enchanting valley that is sparsely populated, with the shallow, emerald green Bumthang river going right through it.
I began walking the next morning at 9 a.m. after the fog cleared. Jakar town comprises of 25 wooden lodges on either side of the main street. Like everywhere else in Bhutan, the only vehicles around were the ubiquitousToyota. Within 5minutes, I was at the edge of town and walking along the riverside. Soon I came across a mechanical workshop and asked for directions to a shop selling the famous Bumthang cheese and apple juice. After gorging myself on the delicious cheese and gulping down 2 bottles of apple juice, I was told by the friendly landlady to check out the experimental Swiss farm atop Karsumpey Plateau, 20 minutes walk up from the shop.
I climbed up the gently sloping road towards the plateau and saw an awesome sight. Grazing in a lovely sun swept meadow were 23 sturdy Swiss horses which, I learnt later, were brought from Switzerland for crossbreeding with the local Tibetan breeds. I continued down the road and came across the farmhouse, and walked through an apple orchard. It was then that I first heard the overpowering melody of someone playing on the Dranyen, a 7-stringed instrument shaped like the mandolin.
He sat on a rock at the edge of the plateau overlooking the fabulous Bumthang Valley and hummed away. His two small children were laughing and playing with him. For the next two hours, I lay on the ground beside him as he played his Dranyen. I hungrily devoured the magnificent sight before me and carved every minute detail of the valley in my mind. Over the next three days, I would walk alone in this valley, discovering monasteries and chortens, eating cheese and sleeping on a meadow beside the river. I would attend the opening ceremony of the 4-day festival at Jampa Lhakhang at midnight in sub-zero temperatures and watch the naked dance, visit the Jakar Dzong, the Kurjey Lhakhang, drink apple brandy, flirt with the landlady’s pretty daughter Kuengzang and play with the local children. I would see the processing of beer and cheese in a local factory, lunch with the remarkable Fritz Maurer, the old Swiss dairy technologist who had made Bhutan his home over the last 29 years.
But, for now I was content lying in an apple orchard, many miles from home, listening to a father singing Bhutanese folk songs for his children…
Urmimala Banerjee of The Wanderers travelled to Pench, Kanha and Bandhavgarh in Feb, 2007 and came back mesmerized and wiser..here is her story
“I am the only person who can show you the tiger”, said Atul. He was a confident man. It was barely two hours, since we had checked into the Pench Jungle Camp. The 6 kilometers drive from Khawasa to Avarghani Village had been back breaking. The kaccha road was bumpy and threw up dirt at every two minutes. It was a dry area with barren Sal trees and few villagers were working on the main road.
However, the resort was a complete contrast. We parked our Ambassador and proceeded towards the reception. The lawns were impeccable with flowers planted in neat rows. Butterflies fluttered about in gay abandon. A French family was waiting to check in, while the waiters stood in attention.
The drive from Nagpur had been good. En route we had stopped at the Dragon Palace at Kamptee. Built with Japanese aid, it was a big complex with a large prayer hall. We were the first visitors of the day. After a 15 min stop, we drove further. As we entered into the countryside we saw huge sunflower fields and villages homes painted white and blue. A considerable area came under the Forest Department and we could see rows of teak trees. This belt started in Maharashtra, while Khawasa came in the Seoni District of Madhya Pradesh.
After a round of hotel inspection, we were in the common dining area. And it was during a sumptuous lunch that we heard Atul speak about tiger sightings. He was telling the foreign guests that he was one of the few people who could guarantee a tiger/leopard on a safari. “That’s really great! I exclaimed, trying to be genuine. Before embarking on this trip, we were clearly told that spotting a tiger isn’t easy. It is by far the most elusive of wild animals in India.
The safari was at 2 pm. The foreigners rushed to their tents to get their cameras while we waited at the lawns. Atul and his colleague joined the foreigners while we were accompanied by a forest ranger. We were slightly miffed that none of the in-house naturalists accompanied us. Somehow, they seemed more pre-occupied with their foreign clients. We reached the gate of the National Park, where the board read “Indira Priyadarshini Pench National Park’. The park also includes the Mowgli Pench Sanctuary and a buffer. Young boys, picnickers, tourists and officials had formed quite a crowd. Our resort’s staff members did the entry formalities. We hadn’t expected this much noise, as this wasn’t a very popular national park (Atleast we thought so!).
We entered into the park. This was my first visit to a tiger reserve. The forest was dense and the chattering of langurs filled the air. We became alert and started looking around right from the word go! From a green-forested area, we moved slowly to a rougher terrain. The right side was an uneven plateau with dry Sal trees, while the left side was much greener. Our heads turned right and left in a continuous motion. A moment’s lapse and we could lose out on a sighting. My alertness levels had reached a new height. Few birds were chirping noisily. I simply ignored them and looked around for an animal. They were a flock of Jungle Babblers.
Finally, our guide pointed at a Collared Scops Owl sitting in a tree trunk. It was wonderfully camouflaged in shades of brown. Finally, we saw two beady eyes peering at us. It was hardly ten minutes and we could feel the excitement building up. The area had trees like Teak, Sal, Gagri, Dhira, Saja, Bija and Mahua trees. We then encountered a large male Chital (Indian Spotted Deer) lazily chewing the leaves off a tree. He was gorgeous with his big antlers covered in velvet. This beautiful animal is widely found in Northern and Central India. Another one was relaxing, a few meters away from him. But we couldn’t see it properly.
As we moved ahead, we saw more of them. They were walking leisurely chewing the tender leaves that had fallen on the ground. The guide explained that the Langurs dropped them from the treetops for the deer. All along the trip we could hear the langurs swinging from tree to tree. “The langur and Chital are best of friends. Everywhere you find a deer, you’ll find a langur,” said our guide. “Langurs warn the deer of the approaching danger,” he added.
A mention must be made of the ‘Sadhu Monkeys’ i.e. Common Langurs striking the most sagacious poses. Their perfectly crossed legs made for great meditative postures. We saw many of them throughout the safari, lost in introspection.
Pench is not particularly grassy, especially in summers. Now, we were driving towards the watering hole. This was a low lying area with dry grass. A lone Nilgai was grazing out here.
Seeing us, the shy animal fled. The Blue Bull or Nilgai is found only in India, mostly in lowlands and plains.
Moving ahead, we crossed a small path with a dry river bed below it. A Gaur (Indian Bison) was walking over it. He went a little further whereby we couldn’t see him clearly. Though we knew that the chance of spotting a tiger at Pench was low, we kept on asking. Somehow, the thought of spotting a tiger was always at the back of our minds.
Driving along the riverside we saw herds of deer, males and females with cubs in tow. A beautiful Indian Roller made a brief appearance, sitting for 2 minutes on a stone. We saw two Gaurs (Indian Bison) drinking from the waterhole. As we moved ahead, we saw a whole herd of them. The oldies kept to themselves while the younger ones drank in groups. We drove very close to a young male that was standing alone. After a few minutes when he seemed to get irritated, we moved away.
Pench has a rugged landscape of small hills and uneven plateaus. It was quite a roller-coaster ride driving up and down the forest routes. I got up from my seat to get a better view of the landscape. The deciduous trees were shedding their leaves and the whole park was carpeted with them. A family of wild boars was walking up the plateau. The guide told us that they are known to charge with or without any provocation.
It was almost 5 pm. We came near the banks of the river Pench and rested awhile. This area is known as Sitaghat and is a birder’s paradise. Species like egret, stork, cormorant and kingfishers could be easily spotted. Our British friends seemed particularly delighted. This was their second visit to India and they were on the ‘Tiger Trail’. We left our friends and moved ahead.
The sun was slowly setting in. We drove ahead and saw a couple of jeeps at a stop. The other guide said that they had heard the call of Sambhar Deer. This call is the most important signal for rangers and tourists that a predator is nearby. I stood up on my seat and looked at my left. A herd of deer was resting near some boulders. I saw them getting up slowly and moving away. More vehicles started congregating near us. Our 15-min wait was futile. The guide told us that most probably it was a leopard.
We now reached a different part of the forest. This was a mixed forest with bamboo thickets and dense undergrowth. The branches of the Indian Ghost Tree seemed to shine in the twilight. We spotted a creature behind a bush. It was a female Sāmbhar Deer. On spotting us, she retreated back into the bushes. As we moved further, we saw a mother and her cub. They were ambling along the road. We gave way for the pair to cross to the other side. A little later, we saw a lovely fully-grown female Sāmbhar Deer.
Besides the animals, we saw a lot of birds. Peacock and peahen were in large numbers throughout the forest. A long tailed bird flew over our heads. It was the Racket-tailed Drongo; a rare bird.
We left the park in the next ten minutes. On reaching the camp, we were refreshed with tea and biscuits. As we sat before the bonfire late evening exchanging stories, we learnt more about the forest. The other foreign guests had a deep love and passion for wildlife. Different people from different walks of life all bound with a common love for Indian jungles. The starlit sky was simply gorgeous; we did a bit of stargazing. I don’t remember seeing a star lit sky in Mumbai for ages.
One of the waiters told us that the Chital as well as leopards wander into the resort grounds at night. We didn’t have a lock in our otherwise luxurious tent. At night, we heard a variety of calls and sounds. The forest never sleeps.
We did not venture out that night..
Mine goes like this. Rise up in the morning, go to a largely secluded island, laze on pristine white sand, go for a swim, have a wonderful meal, and take in some wonderful flora and fauna.
Normally it’s pretty difficult to get all of this on one excursion. There’s always been something missing from my wishlist above, wherever I have been to. However, when I went to Mauritius for my honeymoon, I actually found a place that offered it all – Ile Aux Coco.
Farah, who so wonderfully planned my honeymoon vacation, had recommended that we spend a day at Ile Aux Coco during our stay in Mauritius. When I look back, the trip to the island was the best part of a already great vacation.
Fish around Ile Aux Coco –sights that need to be seen, cannot be described
We were whisked off to Ile Aux Coco on a speedboat in the morning. As you approach the island, the sight of the clear blue sea and the mangroves already fills you with a sense of delight. We were greeted by an amazingly courteous and friendly bunch of staff at the island. While the standards of hospitality are really high in Mauritius, wait till you get to Ile Aux Coco. The staff is extremely high on service quality, and go to that extra mile to make you feel comfortable (such as getting a curry dish especially made for us, once they got to know we were from India, though we didn’t have to ask for it at all!)
Ile Aux Coco as we approach it, notice the white sand
If you want to laze on the beach, Ile Aux Coco is the place to be. Wonderful white sand, and just the right temperature and breeze, to lie on the beach while sipping a relaxing drink. If you are the active sorts, Ile Aux Coco gives you the option to go snorkeling and/or a glass boat ride. This is highly recommended, as the vibrancy of sea life that you see here is unparalleled.
After your snorkeling getaway, when you want to sit down for a nice meal, there’s a wonderful barbeque waiting for you. You might think the natural beauty of the island and the water life around it is unmatched by any experience, but the lunch spread does come pretty close!
All in all, it was an experience to savour and something me and my wife would remember throughout our life. If you’re going to Mauritius, you just can’t give Ile Aux Coco a miss.
Like most frequent travellers, we believe it’s important to pack lightly, even when (like we were) on a road-trip and there are no baggage weight restrictions.
The right luggage can make all the difference and we were glad to each have an American Tourister Granada with us. It’s well made, lightweight and its wheels roll smoothly. It comes with useful built-in compartments for extra space. It can be expanded to fit in all those last-minute souvenirs which means you can pack more without worrying about finding another bag. It also has a fixed combination lock for additional security.
It’s ideal for annual vacations, since it accommodates several days’ worth of clothing and comes with a bottom handle making it easy to handle.
Since we were carrying a laptop, cameras and gadgets to keep The Wanderers community updated on our trip, the Achiever backpack from American Tourister proved to be extremely handy. The cushioned compartment helps to keep the laptop safe from any sudden impact. Plenty of compartments make it easy to keep contents organized and compact. The back padding makes it comfortable to carry the backpack around (even when there was a lot of walking involved). It’s roomy, rugged and loaded with thoughtful conveniences like a side pocket for water bottle and an organizer for keeping pen drives and chargers. American Tourister offers an 18-month warranty on the Achiever backpack.
Managed to get more than 5 hours sleep for a change. On a normal basis, I can operate on 5-6 hours of sleep. But the last few days have been physically exhausting too.
Today was supposed to be an easy drive on relatively good roads (compared to the last 3 days), so we were hoping to reach Shillong early enough to explore the hotel we were staying at instead of just burying our noses in our laptops on arrival as we have been doing since we began this trip.
We left Iora at Kaziranga by 8am and as we were leaving we were given a lovely send off by 2 rhinos and a couple of bison who came almost to the highway to bid us goodbye.
rhino +bison
We stopped for tea at Dhabha Highway at Rah. Relatively clean washrooms. (Yesterday at Kareng Dhabha, the washroom was a series of broad leaves hastily thrown together in a reactangular shape with gaping holes all around that tried to enclose 2 bricks on either side of a hole in the floor). The dhabha was a popular stopping point for vehicles on this route until the new highway came in, which now runs about 15-20 feet above the dhabha. The enterprising Punjabi owners have added a staircase for customers to climb up and down while also affixing a couple of notices saying “Dhabha customers, please park cars on the service road and not on the highway”
dhabha hiway
The day was warm and I wasn’t in the mood for tea, so I got really excited after a few kilometers, when I saw Tender coconut water (nariyal paani) for sale at Thekeragudi There was plenty of competition, but they all insisted that it would be 20Rs a coconut and then proceeded to give us a lecture on the health benefits of coconut water!
tender coconut
Our next stop for lunch was 15kms away from Guwahati at Highway Citi Dhabha. We planned to bypass Guwahati completely, but I was extremely tempted to just go home and tumble into my own bed and not wake up to any more 6am alarms. In hindsight, we may have been better off if we had rested in Guwahati for half a day and then headed out to Shillong in the morning. We had basic anda bhurji, dal fry and rotis at the dhabha. We had ordered for butter rotis (rotis here are made with maida and need that extra moisture) What arrived where plain rotis. When we asked the waiter, he said that there was butter in the dhal and hence no need for any to be added to the rotis! That was a first, waiters normally try to upsell more expensive items on the menu, this guy was downselling!
hiway citi dhabha
The almost 200kms from Kaziranga to Guwahati was covered in 4 hours. After a 1 hour lunch break (service here is really slow) we reached Shillong (120km) within an hour and a half. But the last 13kms to enter Shillong took us 2 and a half hours. It was absolutely excrutiating to be so near and yet so far away.
Other than a short photo stop at Borapani / Umiam Lake, today was just about the drive and we had been really looking forward to reaching early and getting everything thats been pending organised, but that just wasn’t to be. The pitiable point to note is that none of these traffic jams would have occurred if people just followed some basic civic sense.
lake
Shillong is a hilly region and roads are 2 laned. However, when faced with a series of cars in line, there is always one driver who messes up everything by overtaking all the vehicles standing patiently in line and zips up on the wrong side of the road, setting a horrid precedent, thagt is quickly followed by a rush of other irritated drivers and soon they block the path of all oncoming traffic and the situation is repeated on the other side resulting in a complete gridlock.
We finally arrived at Tripura Castle in Shillong at 6:30pm. Ancestral home to the Maharajas of Tripura in Meghalaya. Some of the buildings are very old and some are newer constructions, built to resemble the old. The cutlery all comes embossed with the coat of arms of the Maharaja, but we weren’t lucky enough to find him in residence.
Tripura castle
Today was a quiet uneventful day, but tomorrow is quite packed, so stay tuned.
I can’t say I was sorry to leave the Konyak region of Nagaland. It was a beautiful soul stirring experience, but I couldn’t wait to get back to solid even grounds and hot water baths. (At 800m-2000m above sea level and 10C temperature, we only had running cold water at the guest house as the water heaters had all gone on the blink. Turning any one of them on would result in the tripping of the electricity to the whole building.)
The region and the area is beautiful, but the hardships that they face on a daily basis is sapping. I was expecting everyone in Nagaland to be dressed in colorful clothes and enjoy a relatively comfortable standard of living but the dirt & grime of reality in Konyak, was unsettling. It induced a strange kind of guilt, of us being able to take running hot water for granted with just the flick of a switch, while it meant chopping firewood, lighting a fire, carrying water from the well, setting it to boil and only then using it, for the Konyaks.
I had hoped that a tribal chief system in its purest form, would be a more effective form of governance. But drugs and alcohol seem to be more prevalent here than in the rest of India. A kilo of ganja / marijuana costs 250Rs (5$) while a kilo of pork or dog meat costs 130. A strip of opium soaked cotton costs 10Rs. So drugs are a cheap and easy way to dull the senses. At least for Konyak, the grain, meat and vegetables all come from Guwahati. Are these the same people who are demanding a seperate country or is that just political posturing? I left Nagaland without any answers and more questions than I entered with.
On our way out, we had to let the army post know that we were leaving and the Nagaland checkpoint too. We started early, so we could stop to take in a few sights at Sivsagar that is halfway through.
Sivsagar was the ancient capital of the Ahom kings who ruled over most of the North East for over 600 years, repelling Mughal and British attacks, but finally fell because they requiring British aid to beat back the Burmese incursions. Opinion is divided on where the Ahoms originally hailed from. The ASI says they came from China, while noted guide books claim it was Thailand or Burma. The best place to see remnants of their influence are the temples at Sivsagar. Today Sivsagar is famed as the cultural capital of Assam with all the plays & musical performances that happen here.
The Rang Ghar is the first Ahom Monument you will see while driving along the main road in Sivsagar. This is supposed to be Asia’s first amphitheater. Ahom Kings sat on the first floor of this oval structure, whose roof resembles an upturned boat and watched animal fights and cultural performances taking places in the grounds below. Today there are 2 statues placed in the gardens below to depict the kind of perfromances that took place here.
In 1734, Queen Ambika (of Ahom king Swargadeo Siba Singha) constructed the huge tank in the center of their Ahom capital and 3 temples on its banks. The Shiv temple called Sivdol is 104ft (32m) high and the circumference is 195ft (59 m) at the base. The 8ft high cupola just below the trishul on the top is covered in gold. There are claims that this is the tallest Shiva Temple in the country.
When facing the Shiva temple, the tank (Sivsagar) falls behind the temple. It is believed to be a very Holy temple and while we were visiting, we met some ladies of mixed Bengali and Assamese origin who had travelled from Guwahati to come to this tank to offer prayers for the successful and happy marriage of one of their family members. I struck up a conversation with them, because I was very fascinated by the hand painted pots in their thali.
To the left of Sivdol is Devidol and to the right is Vishnudol. The compound also houses smaller temples to Kali, Hanuman, Shani & Ganesh. Plenty of pigeons and goats are fed on the premises, so if you are visiting as a tourist and want to see all the smaller temples too, I highly recommend that you don’t leave your footwear at the main stand, but take them off just outside each temple. There are plenty of temple offerrings scattered on the floor, so you are better off wearing washable footware.
The path to the main Sivdol is lined with Sadhus and Babas peddling all manner of threads and charms. We didn’t buy anything from them, even though they were quite persuasive. With our SLR’s & Brajesh in shorts, we are often mistaken for the golden geese – “foreign” tourists, until Brajesh speaks to them in Hindi and assures them that we aren’t going to be buying cotton thread malas for 200Rs.
Our next stop was lunch at Sky Chef. The service is abysmally slow. But the restaurant is clean, hygenic, air conditioned with clean loos and the Chinese food was quite tasty. They served my favourite American Chopsuey on this trip so far. Yes, unfortunately, most places we have eaten at on this trip, only offer Indian and Chinese options and not their local specialities.
Post lunch, we visited Talaatal Ghar, a 2 storey Ahom palace built in the mid 18th century. The grounds are beautifully landscaped and its a beautiful walk for 5Rs.
There was a special exhibition by ASI on the grounds of famous Indian monuments. We lso saw some of the before and after pictures that the ASI has taken of the restoration of all the Ahom monuments and I must say it has been a phenomenal effort. The only problem is that the buildings now look new and not a couple of centuries old.:)
Simultaneously, the ASI was also holding an essay writing competition for disadvantaged kids on the necessity to preserve historic monuments. A wonderful effort, the kids were very excited and I hope these initiatives help to make a difference.
After stepping back 400 years, we were ready to come back into the present. We headed to Iora in Kaziranga to break journey before heading to Shillong in Meghalaya. It was such a pleasure to be able to have a hot water bath to wash away all the dust of the last 3 days and soothe our sore bodies. Our North East Chilli Vodka cocktail beckoned and it was with great effort that we stopped at one each, else no pictures would ever have gotten uploaded or blogs written.
