Discovery- Wild walkers near Ooty

Tucked away in the folds of the Ooty mountains, a small cottage lies in the middle of a plot of farm land. The approach road to the cottage itself isn't in best shape, and it is necessary to leave your car half way and use a jeep to cross the final stretch of road. One needs to turn off the Mudumalai-Ooty road, drive across the hill slopes, past a few villages until one essentially reaches the end of the road - thats where you park, and meet caretaker Nanjun, who will take you to the cottage itself. One needs to first walk a little stretch and then climb into a jeep for a rough ride to the cottage.

After driving through Bandipur and Mudumalai, the road to Wild Walkers starts to make you wonder whether there has been some mistake in selecting the destination. There are several villages along the way, each with concrete houses more colourful and kitschy than the other. Yes, the mountain air is delicious, but you do wonder if the cottage is going to give you the privacy, peace and isolation that you have been expecting. The walk from your car to the jeep takes you by surprise, because one is not normally packed in a manner to quickly pick up bags and begin a mini hike. Even my shoes were still packed away, so I had to lug my baggage across in slippers, along with the little bags of food and other utilities we had picked up along the way. Once you reach the jeep, things start looking up, for you drive through a small tea plantation interspersed with scrub jungle, and finally you can see the trees parting ahead , which is where Wild Walkers cottage is located. The immediate area around Wild Walkers is an extension of the reserve forest, and gaurs, elephants and even bears have been spotted here rather frequently. This means that access to the cottage normally requires the caretaker to escort you, and you cannot really head out on foot on your own.

The cottage itself is a 3 bed room cottage, with each room having a separate access of its own. The common areas are all open to nature, so whether you are sitting at the dining table for a meal, or getting warm next to the fireplace, you are always exposed to the outdoors. The cottage is powered by solar power, so you can only keep 2 bulbs on at a time, and charging points for phones, cameras, tablets and every other gadget you are carrying with you need to be used sparingly. Phone are a little redundant, for there isn't enough cell phone network coverage. I would recommend putting your phone off or into flight mode, so that you can still use it to take pictures, but not drain the battery looking for network continuously.

The food is vegetarian and local, but delicious and fresh. The flavours were comforting, and there was an unlimited flow of food, tea and evening pakodas the whole time we were there. Not having electricity also means there is no water heater, so you need to tell Nanjun when you'd like to get a bucket of hot water delivered to your room.

The cottage doesn't really give you much to do either - with limited electricity, lack of network, no facility for games or music, one can be rather bored spending too much time here. But then again, this was exactly what I was looking for. All the things that I have mentioned so far may be slightly putting off for most travellers - which is why I have spoken of all this up front. If you are still reading this article, then this is when you begin to discover all the reasons why I loved this destination.

To begin with, the cottage is done up and maintained beautifully. Each room is spacious, with a view of the outdoors; bathrooms are modern and well maintained; beds are comfortable and the room is filled with curios, antique pieces and little details that reflect the taste and the attention to detail that has gone into putting the place together. Not having electricity was no trouble at all - in fact we barely even used the lights that we could, and spent our evenings by candlelight. The solar lights were used sparingly, only to use the bathroom or while we ate - and we didn't really need it beyond that. The views from the cottage are spectacular - on one side you have high mountains, in front you can see smaller hill slopes covers with jungle patches, and beyond is the valley that has the Mudumalai wildlife sanctuary. Considering the amount of land we could see from where we were perched, it was delightful to also notice that in all these spaces, we could see no signs of other habitation, no other human being, no electric pole, not even a single light bulb or torch!

We could spend days hanging out on the verandahs, gazing at the view, looking at the clouds roll in and out, and watch Nanjun maintain the farm and keep the birds away from his crop. But that isn't all that we did, within an hour of reaching the cottage, we went for a little walk with Nanjun, to a lake and then to a view point, where the view only got better compared to what we could see from the cottage. Along the way we saw some gaurs on the slopes nearby, and even crossed some bear scat, which told us that the bear sightings in the region was indeed true. The next day we went for a beautiful hike up the mountain and spent some time at the peak, soaking in the air, gazing at the view, jumping in the rain and taking innumerable pictures. Words do not do justice to the place, its location, and the experience of doing those hikes in complete isolation, tucked away from the maddening traffic, crowd and construction that is Ooty.

For wildlife lovers and birders, Wild Walkers will surprise you. A pair of resident black eagles make regular rounds of the cottage, and you can watch it soar and circle and hunt and perch. Gaurs and barking deer are a regular feature from the cottage itself, it feels like you belong to the landscape for they graze and walk around without being affected by your presence. We were also lucky to have a bear digging around for termites very close to the property, and even spotted a wild cat (leopard cat) in broad daylight while we were enjoying a cup of tea. Once you realise the potential there is for a sighting right from the cottage itself, you spend the whole time keeping watch with a pair of handy binoculars.

If you are a nature lover and would give all that you've got for a few days in solitude, away from the rush and bustle of the city, then Wild Walkers is the place for you. I do not exaggerate when I say that it is remote and cut off, and that there really isn't much to do other than to enjoy the outdoors, but if this excites you, be sure to plan a trip and do not forget to take your binoculars along.

Our Numero Bruno

7 years ago my brother and I brought home a tiny little fox terrier, the smallest and liveliest of the litter, wondering how happy he would be with life in an apartment. That too, in a country like ours, where society has no space for pure and unconditional friendships that pets have to offer. We always lived in a big house, that’s where we spent 11 years with Bianca (also a fox terrier), and none of us had any idea what it would be like to bring up a dog in a tiny flat. Hoping that our decision to bring a dog home wasn’t very selfish, we quickly settled in to a routine that revolved only around our Bruno.

The day we brought Bruno in, he fell really sick and brought out all the food that went into his little stomach. The very first night was a sleepless night, and we slowly fed him small spoonfuls of Horlicks, hoping at some point it would stay in his stomach.  Fortunately he made it through the night, and quickly grew to be a healthy strong dog, a little too large for his breed, and with endless energy to play. He would hang from the loose ropes under the diwan (a low bed with a base made of rope) and swing, hold on to our jeans when we walked around the house and slide along wherever we went. He would jump from behind my chair and pull out the bands that were holding my hair up, and play tug of war with his leash, refusing to let go even if all his four legs were hanging in mid air. He’d go scurrying across the fields like a little rabbit, chasing the ball at top speed. His game of fetch was rather stylized, he’d run past the ball, and then skid on the ground to brake while he turned around and caught it while it rolled towards him. His elbows and knees would be red and sore at the end of each playing session, but the laughter on his face made it clear that it was no reason for us to stop the game. His extra rough sessions of ball with my brother, during which this tiny little dog had to do the impossible to physically keep up with a 6-foot tall athletic human, became an obsession for him, and he made sure that we all spent some time each day playing ball with him in exactly the same way.

Bruno loved water and hated a bath. He would jump into any stream or pond, take a quick dip into a lake when he got the chance, and even stand under the shower a few minutes if we let it run for him. But as soon as he found out that we had an intention of cleaning him up, he would kick and scream with incredible strength, that at the end of it, the place looked like a wrecked battlefield.

Bruno was a part of our family, as much as he was a part of our lives. He went everywhere with my parents – that is everywhere possible in Indian society. It’s funny that we come from a culture that speaks of compassion and tolerance, and yet more than 90% of our urban population think that friendship with a dog is strange, to say the least. Bruno broke this barrier with almost everybody he met. He was welcomed into homes of family and friend, and had his own equation with everyone he met. He knew the streets that led to various people’s houses, and has even travelled across the country visit temples and beaches and forests and countryside. In fact, Bruno has seen more of India in the last 7 years that I have, and I consider myself an addicted traveler.

Bruno’s favourite places were the land and Balukaka’s house. He would perk up at the mention of both these places. The land is a small plot with a crooked house that my parents have built and struggled to keep beautiful over the last few years. Taking Bruno to the land always added to the beauty of the place. He played all the time that we were there, loved roaming around the countryside, and walked around like he owned the place. Between my brother, Bruno and I, it was always clear that he was most likely to inherit this place from my parents. Balukaka’s house was filled with Bruno fans. Everyone loved him there, and looked forward to his visits. He knew where they kept the ball, he knew that he would always get a special something to eat, and always made just the right expressions to keep all his fans swooning.

Bruno had his ups and downs with his health, especially in the last few years. A combination of bad luck and bad genes (I strongly suspect that the fox terriers in Pune are heavily in-bred) brought him a series of health concerns over the last couple of years. Very careful care by the best caretakers in the world (my parents) and excellent veterinary advice kept him lively and happy and I believe we were well on our way to conquering all his illnesses. I last met Bruno on 27^th September 2010. He was well and happy, enjoying the pampering he was receiving at home, and full of energy to play the same rough game of ball he has played all his life. I had no doubt that he would be better soon. My parents went on another holiday with him toward Madhya Pradesh, something I would have recommended considering how fit and fine he was when I last met him. We all suspect that exposure to deadly pesticide ridden air on this trip affect his health fatally. The first symptoms came on the 5^th of October 2010 when he suddenly lost complete vision in both eyes even while he was in the middle of a game of ball. The sequence of events thereafter is well described in my father’s blog (http://caprarius-aquacorn.blogspot.com/). I called home several times a day and even got lucky with an official visit to India, which meant I could meet Bruno again on 23^rd October 2010. I made several internet purchases, to buy a whole bunch of toys and dog accessories that would help a blind dog live a complete life. The care and attention given to him by my parents and the vet cannot be matched. Bruno tried his very best to stay back with us, but lost the battle on 21^st October 2010 (Thursday – my earlier dog, Bianca, also died on a Thursday). He was buried in the land, the place he never wanted to leave, and yet it pulls the heart strings to drive away from there without him.

Mixed feelings of anger and despair fill us all every now and then at how the country can be so unsafe for an unsuspecting family setting out on a holiday, but memories of Bruno through pictures and videos taken over the last seven years only remind us of how lucky we were to have had him as a part of our lives. I would rather regret the things that we did, than the things that we didn’t do, and believe that every decision and action taken in the last 7 years has only enhanced our experiences with this wonder dog. It is impossible say everything that I want to say in one go, and this blog (http://numerobruno.blogspot.com/) is dedicated to experiences and stories and videos and moments of happiness that we have been lucky to have in the years that have gone by.

My own Banyan Tree

Twisted and tangled, yet so deeply rooted,

Open doorways for whomever it suited.

Reaching out far, from a firm foundation,

Flexible, sturdy – what a reputation!

From a time long ago, fascinating history,

Stories of ethics, nostalgia and mystery.

For creatures of all ages, this is a gold mine,

That promises to give you a swinging time!

I thank my stars – I am truly lucky,

To spend some time under the great Banyan Tree.

The Banyan Tree – amazing in shape and form – something most of the world would never imagine, and a few are lucky to experience. 

 This write-up is for the wonderful memories I have had with Ni (Nirmala Patwardhan) and Balukaka (Balu Patwardhan) – their home was the Banyan tree of Pune, giving strength, shade and endless cheer  to all and sundry who chose to stop by whenever they wished. Even my dog, Bruno always perked up at the thought of going to “Balukaka’s house”!

Ni passed away on the 28^th of March, 2008, and Balukaka passed away today, 23^rd August 2010. I wish the times with them never had to end.

My circle of friends

I lost my favourite pendant a few weeks ago when I returned home from an evening swim and realized I had dropped it somewhere along the way. It was a cold day, and snow was expected, and I unwillingly acknowledged that it was the time to let go. I knew it was nothing but an inanimate object, and I wondered why I felt so attached to it – in many ways I felt it defined me. It was colourful and transparent, and shaped like a bull, which of course relates to my naturally affa’bull’ Taurian character!

I don’t know about lifeless possessions, but I believe that like pets, wild animals connect to us too, and I have a few stories about this to narrate myself. The wonderful home we had when we were children was in the beautifully overgrown NCL colony, with the hill at the back and numerous visitors (more or less of the human kind) up in the front. A couple of creatures visited us too from time to time, and one regular visitor was this 6-foot long rat snake. It was a regular sight to watch it slither in from one door and out from the other. If the doors were closed, it would occasionally stand up to its full length against the window and knock on the glass pane. To the irritation of the squirrels who originally claimed the space, it spent a few days in the neem tree at the back, right next to the kitchen window. 

An old scanned picture shows you how close it was to us, and I spent my time watching it play mind games with the squirrels. This felt like a house pet, our very own snake, and we would wonder where it disappeared if we didn’t see it around for a few days. I don’t know if it knew us, but it seemed to know that this was the house where it wouldn’t get killed.

Whichever part of the world I am in, I find myself wandering into the countryside, where I eventually find myself in the company of wildlife. Over time, one begins to recognize specific animals. The same pair of female elephants has chased the jeep I have been in on numerous visits to BR hills. A couple of times, they did seem to go particularly out of their way to track us down over the hilly terrain. One of these times, we didn’t see them, and as we went down the road we heard a distant trumpet. We stopped the jeep to see where the elephants were, and there was this pair, two hillocks away, walking purposefully towards the vehicle and trumpeting so that we wait for them. 

This appeared to be a planned attack, they took different routes so that they could get to the jeep from two different directions, and the only reason we didn’t wait there to find out what would happen next is because we recognized the elephants as the notorious two, and made sure we kept adequate distance. 

I am convinced that this was special treatment for the regular forest visitors, because this was certainly very unusual behaviour for a wild animal towards a bunch of unfamiliar tourists. I honestly believe that those elephants recognized us, and I always wonder how. The only stories I share with these elephants is when I have been chased by them – although this regular interaction leaves me with an elephant nightmare every now and then, it is a connection that cannot be ignored.

There is a nice little forest patch near Lollar, the village where my office in Germany is located. I lived in Lollar for a few months a couple of years ago. Being a village, this place lacks any form of entertainment, and the only way I spent my time back then was by taking a walk into this forest. Being a wildlife junkie, my eyes are always scanning the bushes for any form of movement, and invariably I would see a deer or two on each of these walks. This was considered rare, since most of my other colleagues and friends in the area didn’t see the animals quite as often, and they considered me very lucky. Of course, I believe it was partly luck, and but mostly my good eyesight. 

This visit to Germany finds me staying in Giessen, which is a town near Lollar. I travel to Lollar everyday to work, but don’t spend any of my free time there. One weekend I decided to head out for a really long hike, and the trail meandered all over the country side, briefly skirting Lollar at the edge of the same forest. It was a bright and sunny day and there were many walkers in the area – considering the human movement and the fact that I was only at the edge of the forest, I had no hope at all of seeing any of my “deer” old friends again. I was walking along the road, map in hand, and very, very exhausted and I missed a left turn. I walked about 5 minutes along the wrong road, still along the edge of the forest. The road hit a dead end, and I turned around, cursing my carelessness, because my legs didn’t really want to be associated with me any further. On my way back, I kept my eyes open for the turn I missed, and in a small open patch was this deer staring at me, completely still. I was stunned, because this seemed to have been fate working all its magic just to make sure I see a deer here again! It felt like seeing a long lost friend after ages, because it seemed like all the set of events that led to me standing at that place at that time seemed planned just to work out this reunion.

It has been since this run-in with the deer that I have been thinking of writing this blog, and laziness has stopped me ever since. However, today is the 2^nd of April, a big day for a very close friend of mine, and I’m heading off to a weekend in Rome instead of being with her on her wedding day – as I sit in the train heading towards Frankfurt to catch the flight, I think of all the people, animals, things and places I really wish I could see today. One thing I don’t need to look for though, is the pendant that sits firmly around my neck. As it turns out, I almost stepped on it the next day as I went out to get my groceries. There it was, lying on the side of the road, through the very cold night, waiting for me to come by and pick it up again! I suppose if I hadn’t walked by the road at that time, it would have found a way right to my doorstep. My circle of friends does seem to be larger than I realize!