Palolem

I have long been absent from this space, and there is no excuse. Except for the one that several things have led me to reduce my travel significantly, which is always a sad thing. I have only been doing weekend travels lately,more of a break from routine than travel.

However this trip was different, even though this too, was an extended weekend holiday. Though I went to a favorite destination (Goa), I experienced it in very different manner. For one, I went to a part I have not been before – South Goa. – to the Palolem beach, which has steadily been rising in its popularity.   Second, I went with a bigger group,  all except one  being strangers. And third, I spent a lot of time in the sea – something which I have not done in a very very long time, thanks to a bad spell of tan the last time I did.

Our plan was randomly made – a chance encounter with a friend in a coffee shop, a crib about Mumbai life and the upcoming long weekend. Soon, we were talking Goa, and a small set of people joined in. Since by the time, Flights were too expensive   – we managed some train and bus tickets by pulling strings, and reached the Margao station at 11:00 am Saturday morning.  From there, Palolem is about 40 kms or 600 bucks by pre-paid taxi. We had booked ourselves in the Palolem Beach Resort, which lies right at the entrance of the beach. At 800 a night for a room, it was a great place. Their restaurant (Druv’s Kitchen) was right on the beach, and rooms just behind it. Rooms were clean, all basic amenities taken care of.

We spent the day at sea enjoying the waves, though Palolem is a relatively quiet beach. Typical of  favorite Goa beaches, it is lined with shacks and diners and sunbeds.  A feature which a few shacks have added is a bamboo terrace, which can be climbed up to enjoy the view. We spent most of our evenings on this terrace – a nice place to sleep/read/eat in peace while still enjoying the sea.

In the night, we tried a couple of places for food – Hare Rama Hare Krishna was disappointing, and another cafe for desserts (I forget the name) was good. We tried a Swedish dessert called ‘Hello to the Queen’, which was rather interesting with its bananas, cakes, biscuits and some more stuff. If only they knew how to keep the sugar levels low!

Next morning, we hired a car to go to Colva for water sports. This beach is a stark contrast to Palolem -  a rough sea, crowds and almost no shacks.  This is the place in Goa for water sports, and we quickly got on to para-sailing and water scooter. Para-sailing was beautiful! Contrary to my expectation, it was not scary at all and the view from above was priceless. Being as scared of heights as I am, I never thought I would enjoy the experience of being air-borne so much. The ride, sadly was too short. I think I will go back to para-sailing on a less crowded beach another day and may be enjoy flying over the waters for half an hour…

Colva is also a good beach for surfing the waves – either on a board or body surfing. The waves are high, and can also get rough at times. We enjoyed riding the waves for a long time,  though the crowd was often lecherous and annoying.

We reached back Palolem almost in the night, and after a hot shower, enjoyed a sumptuous meal at Dropadi – the best food we had in Goa so far. Its not surprising then, that after discovering this place, we had all the rest of our meals there, except for the breakfasts in Dhruv’s kitchen, which was good.

Next morning, we went to a tattoo parlor to at least temporarily mark our bodies The process was much longer than we had expected, so much so that we had to while time playing cards. 2-3 hours later, we finally left the place, adorned with a mark each.  I got a dragon on my leg, which I loved.

In the evening, we took a boat to drop us to the Butterfly island, where we enjoyed two hours of the secluded beach, -playing ball in water. At 6, it came back to pick us, and took us to a point from where we could get a nice view of the sunset.  A beautiful evening, one that made it even harder to get back to Mumbai.

The return to Mumbai – that was another story. Our tickets on the train did not get confirmed, and we spent a crazy evening trying to find a way out of Goa, almost convinced that Goa was trying to host us for another day.  And just as we were going to check into another hotel, a last minute bus cancellation by someone else saved the day. A bumpy ride later, here I am. In the terrible place called Mumbai.

 

Paragliders

Paragliders

Originally uploaded by Shifting sands

Saw these gliders enjoy the skies at Harrison’s Folly, Panchgani and was tempted to take the flight. Soon.
Perhaps a gliding course at Kamshet? I would like to fly alone rather than have a instructor along.

Alpine Sojourn-2

Continued from here.

August 13th, 2009

Today, waking up with recuperated muscles, we decided to extend the hiking experience. So today, to try some variation, we climbed to Gonnergrat in a train, which is at a height of 3094 mts and offers beautiful views of the glacier and the 25 peaks surrounding it. However, like most excursion points, it is quite crowded. A better view can be enjoyed by walking down a bit towards Rotenboden, where there are a few small cliffs that cn be climbed to enjoy the view in piece.

From Gornergrat, we climbed down towards Rotenboden, all the way down to Riffelsee, another beautiful lake in which Matterhorn reflections can be seen on quiet days. We then walked from Riffelsee to Riffelberg – a small village set in the meadows. The walk goes through the Riffelsee nature reserve, rich in diverse flora. Surprising, considering the height and the cold weather. The walk took us through a beautiful tableland, surrounded by peaks on all sides.

From Riffelberg, we climbed down to Riffelalp. However, we bypassed the Riffelalps and moved on towards Grunsee. My original idea was to go to Grunsee and then go to Sunegga via Leisee and take the train back to Zermatt. But on the pretty pathway to Grunsee, we took a couple of detours and by the time we reached the lake, we were quite tired. The lake was beautifully set. I have come to love these Alpen lakes, their blue shining between the browns and greens and whites.

So, in stead of going back to Sunnegga, we traced our way back to Riffelalp, intending to take the tram there (Europe’s highest tram apparently). However, on the way we got distracted again by a pretty pathway pointing to Zermatt. In a weak moment, the decision was made and our muscles paid for the weakness, with a rather sharp and rough downward climb to Zermatt. The route went through pine forests, often flirting with the river alongside. It was a nice walk, but by the time we reached  our room in Zermatt, my body completely refused to move. I dragged myself to the sauna again, in an effort to appease the taut muscles. But three hours later, I am still unable to move my feet and am writing this ensconced in bed.

Tomorrow is another day, and I have promised my legs to only walk them uptp the Matterhorn glacier station and back. Tomorrow we leave this lovely town of Zermatt and move to Montreux.

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Climbing up the Matterhorn Glacier Express was nice, though being a popular excursion, it was thronged with people. Even in August, there was abundance of snow, enough for people to ski.  You could march over to the Italian side from there, and this transparency of borders in Europe amazes me.

We stayed up there for a few hours and then came down – all the way on the express, to keep my promise to my feet. We came back and boarded a train to get to Montreux, and by 5 in the evening, were in our hotel in Montreux.

More later.

Alpine sojourn

Typing out what I scribbled on a hotel pad in Zermatt almost 7 days ago:

Day before yesterday, our Europe trip began in earnest. Technically it had begun three days earlier than that when I landed in Vienna, but I think it will be a crime to describe the city sojourn in the same space as a journey in the Swiss Alps. Besides (and I don’t mean it as an affront to the charm of both Vienna and Salzburg), their memories are quite ack swept right now in the rush of Alpine beauty.

We arrived in Switzerland on the Wiener Walzer Express from Salzburg. A fitful rest on a couchette had still not wiped the sleepiness at 6:20 in the morning. Some ablutions and a wuick grab later, we boarded a train to Chur. Chur is where we were going to board the panoramic Glacier Express, all the way to Zermatt. Very touristy? Yes, I couldn’t agree more. The scenery was quite breath-taking, and may be it is a good introductory course to Switzerland, but I yearned to de-board at many green bushes rather than click pictures through the (very reflective!) glass windows.

We reached Zermatt sometime in the evening (yes a long ride, you could try to keep it only to the interest regions: to Andermatt from the previous stop, or from Visp to Zermatt).

Zermatt is a prefect little holiday town. At this time, it is buzzing with people and activity. As the Glacier express stationed, which is perhaps a highlight of the day for the town, a few small electric vans came down to pick up the tourists. Zermatt is a car free zone, and so most movement happens either on foot or on those electrical trams.

We walked around in the town, enjoying free performanes at the local chapel, along with a food festival. Found a small family-run restaurant: Restaurant du Pont, to enjoy our first authentic Swiss fondue along with a local wine. The combination was quite heady, though the cheese got a bit too much in the end. The Swiss serve it in a big pan, which is really deep, not like the swish places of bombay, whose bowls usually have a false bottom!

Next morning, we had planned on some hiking. There were a few suggestions from our hotel (Hotel Simi, by the way: a very recommended place to stayin Zermatt). We decided to go to Sunegga from where a lot of trails begin. There is an express train to get to Sunegga: a funicular actually; after getting down, we started to walk towards Blauherd (approx 2600 m above sea level from Sunegga’s 2280). There is a cable car to Blauherd too, but the hike is beautiful, with the loveliest views of Matterhorn, the lovely peak that rules Zermatt. From Blauherd, we walked on towards Stellisee, a beautiful lake in which Matterhorn is reflected on quiet days.(I just managed to catch some stilnness for a few moments). The route to Stellisee is beautiful too, with views of the Matterhorn and other 4000+ peaks whick line the valle. The lake is a quiet place for a halt, though more populated than the rest of the track.

From Stellisee we climbed further to Fluhalp, and a bit further towards Pfulve. Some distance from Fluhalp, we found a nice stone to park ourselves and eat. How delightful is a piece of bread after so much walking!

We retraced our steps to Fluhalp, where stands the Fluhalp hut – a large impressive place which stands at the edge of the cliff, looking out to the many cliffs around it. It serves as the base station for many mountain climbers who try to scale the Matterhorn and other peaks. We stopped there for coffee and dessert, before taking another route to Sunegga. On this route back, we were accompanied by a small stream, which was really idyllic, flowing through the green grass. We reached Sunegga via Leisee, which has become a kid’s resort with a license for swimming, and its joyrides.

From Sunegga, in stead of taking the train back, we decided to walk to Zermatt, and somewhere caught an uninteresting, rather dull route which winds down to Zermatt at a gradient of 10 deg, flowing down for 2 hours for a height difference of only 700 m. By the time we reached SImi, our mucles were crying out loud, especially with the descent, and it was with relief that we greeted the lovely whirlpool and sauna. Half an hour of treatment, and we could walk into the city, even if for a small meal and a rather brooding drink at the local tavern (Hotel Post).

To be continued…

Monsoon Goa

Spent a luxurious weekend in Goa at the Taj Village. The place is remarkably beautiful in the monsoons, lush green marked by a very violent sea. I enjoyed the monsoons immensely, walking around barefoot in pouring rain and in soft drizzles on the lovely grounds.

Desperately Seeking Monsoon

Mumbai is scorching, seething and desperate for a good shower. I too, have been praying desperately for rains, not just to get some much needed respite from the heat, but also to enjoy the monsoon trips again. I realize that I completely skipped the monsoon bliss last year, thanks to my Australian sojourn. The trifling rain visit I made was to Murud, but that was also during the pre-monsoon when rain had yet not turned on its full flow.

Mumbai is a delight to be in during the monsoons (If you could ignore the puddles and lakes on what Mumbaikars call the ’roads’). There are many places around the city which offer a lovely weekend option, as they are within driving distance.

The closest monsoon options are in the Western ghat belt which extends to North East of Mumbai. It takes only an hour’s drive from Vashi to get to Karjat, a place which has now become a popular ’farm house’  location for Mumbai dwellers. While a lot of these farm houses are private, there is an equal number of farm houses who have reformed into resorts for the nature-loving tourists. They offer modest accomodation, at not so modest prices, but have swimming pools and badminton courts to ensure a good time for their guests. Their best offering though, is open space and proximity to the green hillocks.

Very close to Karjat is Neral, the gateway for getting into Matheran. Matheran is a unique hillstation, best enjoyed during monsoons, i.e. if you are keen to have a ‘wet’ holiday. It rains almost continuously, and rains heavily. There are no cars allowed in this small station, and your only means of transport are your feet or horses (Stop imagining yourself galloping to the winds, it is a sedate walk, very painful to certain parts of the body! Choose to walk, and you will have a grand day. On monsoon weekends, expect a lot of people. But that is not to say that you will not be able to find nice quiet corners to enjoy the ghats.

Then there is much talked about twin-pack: Khandala-Lonavala. A lovely place in the monsoons if you skip its popular places and points. Just take off on any of the green hill by yourself and you will have a much better time. Or go to one of those exclusive resorts which have a hillock in their backyard – so you can enjoy scaling the heights and the rains, and not be disturbed by unbehaved mass of loafers. Personally I prefer Khandala much more to Lonavala, which is loud, crowded and unruly. I love the Khandala Station, and also to watch the track from the hillocks. Trains meandering through the lush green valley is a beautiful sight.

My favorite, so far has been Igatpuri – a small hillstation on the Mumbai-Nashik highway. It takes on a lovely charm during the monsoons, esp with its very low bridges, and the wavy tracks. There is the lovely Igatpuri Tal on the way to the temple, not very far from the only two resorts in the area. It is not very well known, and is perfect for a quiet day.

Not far from Igatpuri is Bhandardhara, also famous for its lake. It is another of the quiet, secluded, relatively lesser known destinations to enjoy the monsoons. But like Igatpuri, the stay options are restricted.

If you are one of those, who enjoy the monsoon sea, I will highly recommend the white sand beaches of Murud and Kashid. The drive from Kashid to Murud goes along the sea, through the hills, and is one of the loveliest drives I have enjoyed in India.

Then there always is Goa – the ultimate place for partying, which is, contrary to popular belief, absolutely loveable in the monsoons. The sea is rough, so the shacks and beachside activity is ruled out. But you can always enjoy watching the turbulent sea from the Fort Aguada, or sit atop any of the cliffs and enjoy the rain. It is also perfect to swim with showers above – though certainly not in the sea

Talking about all this, and I am again homesick for the rains. Rain Gods, please be merciful.

Kanha and Tigers

This account continues from the previous entry.

What our guide had spotted, when viewed with the binoculars, did turn out to be a tiger. And of all pleasant surprises, this tiger seemed to be headed in our direction. So far other gypsies had been unaware of its presence, but out activity alerted them, and before we knew, there were 15 safaris tracking this tigers every move.

Walking at a leisurely, unconcerned, regal gait, the tiger came up to the road, and crossed over to the other side of the meadows. That 15 safaris were lined up for its welcome, with at least 50-60 cameras furiously clicking away, was absolutely lost to the king. He walked leisurely near the road, stopping at a tree for marking, not even bothering the few deers who lay low.

After a while, the tiger decided to cross back where it came from. But before it crossed the road, it decided to walk a bit on the road. It was an amazing site, a tiger walking beautifully on a road, followed by 15 safaris driving at their slowest speed.

Finally, it crossed over, and people reluctantly started towards the gate. The gates close at 6:45 in the evening, and if you don’t reach in time, your guide gets penalized. But the whole walk lasted for about 20 minutes and was remarkable.

The next day, encouraged by our previous day’s experience, we promptly got up. After enjoying another sunrise, we headed towards the Kanha meadows. It is around this area that the jewel of Kanha resides – the Indian antelope or the Barasingha. Kanha is the only place where barasinghas can be found, and they are being now protected due to their dwindling population.

This morning, we came to know that a tiger had been spotted around Kisli, which meant we could enjoy a ‘tiger show’. We quickly went to the gate and got into a queue for tiger viewing. We were 16th in the queue, and it was more than half an hour of idle wait. Then, the forest guards told our driver the location of the show, and on reaching there, we sat on elephants and went just next to a resting tiger. I can’t even begin to explain how the experience was – the tiger was majestic, and was posing beautifully for the photographs. I was only sorry that I couldn’t get rid of the tall twigs and grass.

The elephants seem disinterested in the tiger, and the tiger reciprocates the indifference.

We were told that another tiger had been spotted at a watering hole. After the tiger show was over, we rushed to this place, which was atleast 25 min away by drive. However, despite waiting for more than half an hour, we could not site this elusive guy – he was near the water, but in a hidden spot.

Anyways, after seeing a few more antelopes, we returned. The evening safari was spent in pretty much the same way, until we hit a place where apparently a leopard had been seen. Excited, we got there – and there it was a leopard drinking water! It is such a small creature compared to the tiger, and much faster. Unlike the tiger, this one noticed the row of safaris and took immediate flight. The light was not good enough for a good photo, but here is what we could get.

In our last safari next morning, we went to a completely different area. This was a part we hadn’t seen so far. This was hilly terrain, mostly bamboo trees, and completely arid. In later parts, we also came across a large landscape which had recently been under forest fire. Though we didn’t see any of the ferocious cats, we nevertheless quite enjoyed this safari for the pretty forest and relative quiet (we didn’t see even a single safari throughout).

After this safari, it was time to go back. We had a quick shower and set out to Nagpur.

It was an unforgettable experience. Though Himalyas still remain my beloved destination, I will definitely return to the jungle in at least one trip this year.

Wilderness: Kanha National Park

It was a sudden decision to go to Kanha. Infact, only a reaction to the impending long weekend and the prospect of a readymade trip. A friend was going with her colleagues, and they had pre-booked everything with room to spare. So we tagged on. Of course, the prospect of seeing a tiger was exciting, but after hearing numerous disappointing accounts from National park travelers, I was not so sure if that would happen. But then Kanha is a park with a high density of tigers (89 in an area of 800 sq km).

To reach Kanha, we could either go via Jabalpur or Nagpur. Since there are no flight connections from Mumbai to Jabalpur, we flew to Nagpur, and hired an Innova from there to take us to Kanha. We were to stay at MPTDC’s Baghira cottages, which are inside the park. However, the park does not allow entry after 10 pm, and after repeated requests, we were able to convince them to stretch it to 11pm.  We started from Nagpur at around 5:30, and were not at all sure if we would make it in time.

Before beginning the road trip, we stopped in Nagpur to pack some food and water. After living in Mumbai, I am sometimes surprised by how neat and efficient the smaller towns of India look. Wider roads, nice rows of independent houses, slightly manageable traffic. Mumbai, in its current state cannot even hope for that level of maintenance.

Anyways, we did not get any food – no place could get dinner ready before 7, lunch was long over. Dejected, we moved on.  Only very soon to be stopped at a railway junction. How could I have forgotten the railway crossings and how important it was to cross them at strategic times!  After half hour of anxious waiting, we finally could go ahead. The route onwards was reasonably good, except for a few patches between Sioni and Nainpur which were very rough. But these were only about 30-40 km in all.

We reached Kanha almost at 11 – thanks to the enterprising drive from our driver. Kanha has two main entrances, Kisli and Mukki. Our resort was about half a km into the reserve area, near the Kisli gate. As soon as you enter the gates, the forest takes over and the outer world begins to fade. Phone signals go off, EDGE networks die, and the breeze is laden with the smell of trees. And as we stopped at Baghira, we were greeted by a deer, staring at us with curiosity and apprehension.

We had already booked five safaris for the next three days. The morning safari began at 5:30 in the morning (a rude shock to the lazy weekender in me).  However, it is always refreshing to see the sun rise, especially  if it is behind a morning forest. The predominant color of the forest was an arid brown, streaked with yellow. Amidst these, the gold of deers was beautiful, so was the black of bysons who moved with their own dash of white (egrets). The safari is done in an open gypsy, so you can freely enjoy the air and view.

In our impatience to see a tiger, we waited at three different watering holes to catch a glimpse, hoping that the heat will drive him to water. In vain. All we see was more deers and monkeys. By the time the safari ended at 11, we were exhausted with the heat and thirsting for water ourselves.

In the evening safari, we headed towards a different section of the forest. This was close to the Kanha meadows. On the way is a bridge which overlooks one of the most prominent water haunt of Kanha. Here the evening confluence was on. Many animals had come to beat the heat – wild boars, deers, barking deers, bysons, sambhars, and some lovely birds. The highlight was the kingfisher, which is such a pretty bird.

After spending considerable time at the bridge, we went towards the meadows. On the way we met an even prettier bird, the blue jay bluebird (see above). I was completely enamored with it, it is so serene and graceful.

In a great stroke of luck, we also were able to see an action-packed hunting scene: a wild dog chasing a pack of deers. The deers were running in all directions, visibly overtaken by panic. Surprisingly, this wild dog was alone; wild dogs usually chase in packs.

We started back, with the intention of going to the bridge again, waiting to see if the tiger would get lured by the abundant food there, not to mention the water. However, we didn’t even need to go to the bridge this time. Our very observant guide spotted a moving figure far into the distance.

I think I will leave more for a follow-up post

Picnic at Hanging Rock

A few months ago I watched a beautiful and mystifying movie from Peter Weir, called Picnic at Hanging Rock. The film had the charm of Boyd’s handiwork with the camera, but it was also impressive because of its depiction of Australian bush and the uneasiness it instils. After spending sometime in Australia over the past year, I can hardly claim to be unmoved by the eerieness of Australian countryside, even though I remain largely unimpressed with most of its cities. There is tremenduous amount of space in this country, which throws off almost everyone who comes from nations of huddled people. Sometime back, I had quoted a dialogue from Chatwin’s Songlines, and those words always remain with me when traversing the bushland here:

“Pity we didn’t get here first”
“We, the Russians?”
“Not only Russians”, he shook his head, “Slavs, Hungarians, Germans even. Any people who could cope with wide horizons. Too much of this country went to islanders. They never understood it. They’re afraid of space.”

Last weekend, I went to Hanging Rock,the place that inspired an Australian to write a book and another one to make the mysterious movie I mentioned above.  It is a place that carries a history far older than the one Europeans created on this continent. Formed by a special kind of volcanic eruptions called mamelon six million years ago, the rock provides a good ground for geological studies. Part of the Macedon ranges in Victoria, the place is about one and half hour’s drive from Melbourne.

You dont have to drive too far from an Australian city to feel its vastness. The tall buildings quickly give way to open lands which are left almost uninhabited.How the cities themselves come about to be so crowded and ordinary is something I find hard to understand.

Hanging Rock lies inside the Hanging Rock reserve, which contains a race course, walking tracks and a huge picnic ground with barbeques and picnic tables. It is easily a loveable picnic spot, for the wide space it offers combined with the additional opportunity of rock exploration. There is also a lovely cafe (with the most sumptuous home-made muffins!)

There are a few walking tracks around. We followed the Summit track, which goes up to the summit of Hanging Rock and gives a good view of the scenery. As is typical of Australian tourism, the track is marked with N points. I think they kill the charm of a place in their overzealousness to name everything and convert it to a dot on the map.  The track loops up to the summit, and on the way up there are lovely and mysterious rock formations. Despite the fact that there were many picnicers, the place had an overpowering sense of silence. It seemed people spoke in soft tones or whispers, perhaps in awe of the rocks.  At a lot of places, I could imagine the scenes from the movie playing. This day was quite unlike that other in the movie, the only thing in common were the clouds, the very blue sky and the odd-colored rocks.

Along the way, the rocks merge and form crevices and narrow paths in many places. Paths which seem inviting, which the young school girls would have found irresistible.  The rock formation hangs awkwardly in the middle of vast open fields and bushes, which are then lined by hills from the Macedon ranges. The view from the summit is beautiful, especially as the high monliths suddenly give way to the surrounding scenery. The bush looks curious, esp as the shadow of the clouds casts an unsettling pattern of light and shade.

After spending some time at the summit, we climbed down, this time taking the steps. The actual rock from which the place gets its name is a huge rock hanging between two rocks.

It is said that the place provided a shelter to many bushrangers during the gold rush of 1800’s. Many people believe that rock to have some intense aboriginal significance and attribute some mysterious powers to it.  It is not hard to imagine the natives being awed by the high rocks in middle of bushes and thinking of it as magical.Perhaps there is magic, but the ones who believed in it have been chased into nolands by the conquerers. Australians often like to claim that the aborigines are irresponsible, greedy and lazy. They would have done nothing and Australia would be a bushland if it was not for the European settler. Perhaps it is true. But perhaps it would not have been a worse alternative. Who has the right to cast fates, who is to say that civilization as we know it is better than the land of walkabout.

On the way back we stopped at Woodend for a late late lunch. It is a charming small town, almost like a small European city.  Beautiful, and almost quaint with its gardens and churches.

Melbourne Diaries: Fireworks