Coorg - Where Grass Is Still Green

Another holiday, another road trip, another adventure – the words were echoing loud in my head making it an absolute need of the hour. I counted my remaining three leaves in the bucket. 'Two days clubbed with three holidays will do fine' – proclaimed my partner-in-crime. But 'where are we going?' He fondly narrated Ruskin Bond,  ‘And when all the wars are done, a butterfly will still be beautiful!’ 

Bags – checked, tickets – checked, umbrella and raincoats – checked, camera – checked, warm memories – unquestionably, checked! I, by now, knew, it was the place, close, very close to our hearts – Coorg.

Bangalore was as welcoming as ever, we wondered why we left this amazing place five years back - ambition, I thought, like always!

It was our third trip with ‘zoomcar’ and I was more than happy with a red Honda Amaze awaiting to get started. And as we thought, it was such a treat to drive on NH48 via Mysore. We deliberately took diversions sometimes to click pictures of farmers’ village, roads within, villagers and their errands. There was something about the air, the milieu that brightened our spirits at once. 

A good seven hours road trip was worth every bit - we were in no hurry to reach!

But we reached and when we did, it was way past lunch time! The small town, Madikeri, is full of good restaurants but it was a wrong time. At last, we found a small eatery serving for the last time of the day, we ate to our heart's content. Kodagu cuisine is influenced by the surrounding area and geography with pork dishes being the showstopper. We loved Nool Puttu paired with chicken curry (we don’t eat pork, but if you do, it’s a must try) and spicy mango curry.

A friend was kind enough to welcome us to his homestay right inside his coffee estate, over the hills, amidst the clouds and the rainbow! Oh yes, literally so - It was basic, rustic and effortlessly georgous. The chalet given to us had a wooden balcony overlooking the coffee plantation and a small waterfall. The best part was that it was elevated and we could touch the branches of the tall Avocado tree right in front of us (but not avocados, poor thing)!

“Happiness is a mysterious thing, to be found somewhere between too little and too much.” And Coorg always hits the right balance! The beauty with all its rainstorms and cloudbursts is more tempting than a Switzerland or a Scotland. 

The coffee in the coffee town, sure, has a rawness to it, I initially found it a little too strong for my taste – but like the coorgies say ‘it grows on you’ and yes, it certainly did!  

We visited a couple of touristy places like Abby Falls and Nisargdhama, but honestly, with the swarm of selfie-extremists, none of these places were as enjoyable as we hoped it to be, except the generous tusker which despite the screaming crowd, came out on the sideways to offer us a smile-evoking sight. Triumph! Indeed, wilderness without wildlife is just a landscape!

Note: Please avoid Dubare Elephant Camp – it is a circus where humans come to picnic with wildlife and pay for tormenting these majestic elephants with a joy-ride on its back or feeding them with nothing but straw or bathing them for mindless fun. The worst part is how these wild giants are beaten and poked with iron hooks to get domesticated like a dog or cat. There is nature and wildlife outside of this, into the forest, visit the national parks and sanctuaries – India has umpteen of them, see the magic happen when they are untamed in the unguarded wilderness. Remember, “the wildlife and its habitat cannot speak”, we can, so we must act, we must love, we must save them!

We love birding – not like a birding expert but a bird inquisitive – how they look, fly and chirp – we are curious about all of that. But this time Cicada took our fancy – there are squillions of cicadas in the coffee plantation, all whining in the same rhythm making a sound that can make you deaf if you are too close to them.

Nights were not starry - thick damp mist blinded our vision but added a chill in the air and thrust in the soul - we went for our after-dinner stroll around the hills, sat on the top of one plateau from where the sky looked clear, we did not count the stars - we were too busy gazing at them. 

Into these little spaces, my holidays always defined itself, when life and time stood still, we as gratified as ever – we thank Almighty that not all good things are inflated – some are like nature – wild and free!

Mornings in Coorg are mostly bright and sunny. We woke up to the call of the Malabar Whistling Thrush almost every day. While having our last coffee of the day, we counted one, two, three…one count on each breath for every dew drop dangling from the balcony shed. Perspective: Simple things are beautiful, it makes you humble and is never a waste of time! At around 11 am, we strode down the road, crossed the little bridge and the overflowing waterfall, and reached Madikeri town – here is what we bought - some home-made spices (try coorg pork curry powder – I use them to make coorgy chicken at home), chocolates and my favourite thing in the world – dry fruit honey.

Coorg is like an addiction – addiction to a place where “the grass is still green and the air is still free.” I looked out the window of our car, closed my eyes, the cool gust of wind swept along my skin...I got drowned in an invisible ocean of happiness. And then there was a sudden screech, the man behind the wheels stopped the car, my worldly senses sprang back to senses – ‘why are we stopping here’ – he smiled at me and said – ‘come, the happiness deserves a click!’ 

Pench-anting Holiday

Long Christmas weekend and no plans! Every plan of stretching out the joy by doing something Chrismassy like having a Christmas tree in our window or planning a get-together really sounded too domesticated! I felt bored, like never before! But, like always, as my partner-in-crime and I sat for a hot cuppa coffee after office, boredom fizzled away, we brewed a plan, one that could never go wrong! Long Christmas weekend was our another safari excuse and what better way to spend the Christmas than with Baghira in the Kipling territory in real.

We flew from Pune to Nagpur and then drove to the famous and legendary, Pench (Turia Gate) in 2.5 hours, precisely. We reached our destination in the afternoon when the sun was high yet far from hot. Welcome winter!

The location of Pench Jungle Camp had us thrilled more than anything else; it was just 2 kilometers from the Turia safari gate. The property was huge yet cozy – housing a combination of deluxe A/C tents and self-serving bungalows, each with their own old-world charm. The bed in the tent invited peaceful sleep, however I was a little apprehensive about sleeping on those fluffy pillows but I sank gratefully into them every night, having been lost and snug under its comfy layers!

Each tent had its own private deck where we soaked in the winter sun, parked ourselves lazily on the chairs in the evenings, listened to birds chirping like there was no tomorrow! The first evening when we sipped our ginger tea sitting comfortably at the deck, a disconnect filled the air – a disconnect from the rest of the world. We were inaudible to ourselves. No Wi-Fi could replace such connection that just grew in like magic between us and the surroundings, barring all other nuances of worldly desires! Recipe of peace!

The resort had an eco-park of its own - we explored the area early morning, spotted a Malabar Pied Hornbill and in the evening, a swiftly moving Jungle Cat.

Next day, the safari started at 6 in the morning when all the jeeps lined up in front the Turia gate to get the permit, our fingers crossed as we were praying to get route 1. And hell yes, it was route 1 for us. We were behind three jeeps which meant a lot for the chances of sighting. Our guide Ganga was a man of few words. He asserted as we began our safari, “Sir, 6:30 to 9 is tiger time, pehle tiger dekh lete hain, baki sab baad mein!”

It was still inky, ‘no sun until 7’, Ganga said. Around us loomed the half-stripped jungle and sandstone scarps. Except the Pench River, all other water bodies were devoid of any water. The jeep ran straight towards the rising sun and the carroty horizon – my lips, nose and eyes were fighting the piercing cold wind while even four layers of woolens felt not-enough-warm. Pench was gently unwrapping its morning glory – ‘magical’, my husband exclaimed! And then the first screech of the wheel – we got wild dogs overcrowding the track – and how we wanted such traffic every day! Low light and frozen hands did not stop us from clicking and recording its movements from every possible slant. They were 6 in total and were in all-play mood.

The jeep moved on as soon as they fled into the thickets and soon enough we got a sambar alarm call. We sped up, dust swirled behind the wheels, the rustling and crushing of leaves echoed in the air and in the blink of an eye, we were up close and personal with the famous ‘langdi’ walking just a feet ahead of us. She seemed to be in no hurry, majestically basking in the 7:30 AM sunshine streaming and shining through the trees – our shutter never stopped, jeep standstill and jaw, like always, dropped! Sometimes, the pictures or the videos cannot capture what your eyes and soul can! Like every aftermath of such phenomenal tiger sighting, I did not know how to articulate my feelings in writing – one needs to experience this once to feel what I feel, to know what I know!

After 3 hours at a stretch, we halted at a girded plain field within the forest for refreshment. Some spotted deers and langurs accompanied us with other jeeps and tourists at a distance while we had a wholesome breakfast.

The sighting of the Golden Jackal family happened much later, when we were on our way back. Three layers of woolen down, we were enjoying breeze rushing through our hair, fingers, stirring our excitement right within. Clearly, Langdi stole the show in this safari but the Jackal family was a crowning stroke in terms of light and shadow composition by Sony Alpha 68.

And we drew a close to our Pench safari with sightings of a Crested Serpent Eagle and two baby owlets together. Heavy dew glazed the leaves, the jungle looked like a goldmine turning everything yellow – shining golden yellow!

That same evening, we had another special plan - to see the sunset at Kohka River. As our driver drove us down a dusty track through the small tribal hamlets, we found mud-walled houses, villagers’ cattle wandering down the narrow lanes. Farmers raised machaans in their plot where bottle-gourd and other trees were seen aplenty.

The daylight slowly became faint after 5:30, the chill in the air became evident again. We roped up the blanket provided by our resort. The gorgeous Indian Roller and the Purple Sunbird kept accompanying us on our 8 kilometers drive to Kokhka river.

It was 6 when we got off the jeep and walked across the river's silvery sandbank. Disturbed by our approach, a team of Ruddy Shelduck waded across the opposite bank. I held his hand tightly and looked ahead, thickly forested hills stood still in front. It became darker by the time we got back to our jeep again, 'we should be heading back before it is all dark' the anxious husband said. 

But guess what...we both were taken by surprise to realize that we were not heading back to the resort until we enjoy the lovely bonfire with wine, as the driver said, 'enjoy the cold, sir' - we saw the table was laid on the bank of Kohka, Chardonnay was ready to be served, hurricanes lit up sitting area – our driver humbly asked us if we wished to get the moment captured. Of course, we did! An unforgettable moment of bliss it was when the partner-in-crime embraced me from behind and said, “Here is the camera, ek accha sa photo lijiye!” All smiles!!