To Delhi, Agra, and Back

Photoset | Slideshow

I visited the nation's capital, New Delhi, between 17th-22nd August, 2011. The trip wasn't the usual "touristy" one — the primary purpose was to spend some time with close friends who have made Delhi their base. We did manage to visit a couple of spots frequented by tourists. A goodish bit of the other time was spent in staying inside to avoid Delhi's hot and sticky weather (I kid you not, the amount of rain I experienced in Delhi over five days was less than what you get in Mumbai under five minutes. Much of the remaining other time was spent in hunting for "Spicy Treat" Uncle Chipps chips and for Wai Wai Chicken Noodles at the behest of my favorite (and only) niece.  She has recently moved back to Mumbai from Delhi and was craving these two treats that remind her of the city in which she lived for over decade.

(In keeping with my recent bullet-point posts) More observations from the Trip:

• I had booked myself a return trip, with much enthusiasm, on the Mumbai-New Delhi Rajdhani Express. The Rajdhani Express experience is no longer what it was earlier. The journey from Mumbai started on a promising note. I had booked myself a "side-lower" berth (I prefer the seats on the sides — easiest way to avoid other pesky passengers) and the person with the seat opposite to me (side-upper) didn't turn up —  a whole lot of leg space. On my return trip, that wasn't the case and I found that in the Rajdhani, the side seats are extremely cramped. That was not the case on the trains I took during my earlier trip a couple of weeks ago to my birth place. I feel the trains are newer and the compartments better designed on the Mumbai-Nagpur route. The service on the Rajdhani Express to Delhi was excellent. The food, apart from the pre-packaged stuff, was barely passable. On my return trip, the service was atrocious with the serving staff bordering on the rude. The food however was great. It is also amusing to find that despite announcements asking people to refrain from tipping the staff, the "cabin crew" still actively solicits tips.
• Delhi (I was visiting after a little more that 2 years) has in many ways changed for the better - good roads, much cleaner, a whole lot of greenery all around, and even better air quality. The traffic and the driving though is still atrocious. Cars jump red lights with impunity and there is no telling when a car ahead of you (or behind you) will change lanes. Most vehicles are on the road with a single purpose — getting ahead at over 100 KMPH.
• Delhi weather — Phew! I know it often seems like the rain never stops in Mumbai during the monsoon, but after experiencing Delhi's constipated attempts at rain (and the resultant sapping and sticky climate) I've new found appreciation for Mumbai's rain (which I know will dwindle the next time the local trains are bogged down due to a downpour). Note to myself: Visit Delhi in winter to experience what the locals claim is the city's best weather.
• Delhi Metro — Awesome!
• Delhi food — Awesomer! I think the overall quality of food (at least the non-vegetarian fare) in an average Delhi restaurant is far better than what we are accustomed to in Mumbai.

• The Lotus Temple, the Bahá'í House of Worship, is beautiful. This was my first proper visit (my earlier visit to the temple about 8 years ago was abortive — so thick were the crowds then that I turned back from the entrance to the temple). The lotus flower inspired design of 27 free-standing marble clad "petals" is truly divine. The jostling crowds are still a pain though. And it is amusing to see the people's expressions once they enter the central hall of the temple. There are no altars or images or statues (or anything to "worship") inside the temple and people look at the seats and the vaulted ceiling and wonder what to do next. Then it sinks in and the resultant silence is beautiful to hear. While the temple structure is awesome, I wish the the nine pools around the temple and the surrounding gardens are better maintained.
• The India Habitat Center (IHC) is wonderful. Artshows, concerts, lectures, and much more. Often free. We attended, for free, a wonderful concert as a part of the "World Flute Festival" (it being the Janmashtami weekend) organized by Raasrang and were enthralled by Mexico's Horacio Franco playing the recorder. Unfortunately we couldn't stay for the evening's highlight: Pandit Hariprasad Chaurasia.
• While I've already cribbed about the traffic on Delhi's roads, it is far better than that encountered on the NH2 to Agra. The highway itself is not in a great shape. I was amazed to find heavy, slow moving traffic monopolizing the right-hand side lane. And in the left hand lane, it is common (and by that I mean every minute or so) to find tractors and tempos and cars and bikes and cycles nonchalantly coming against the traffic. At good speeds. To top it all vehicles change lanes whimsically as do pedestrians. One such pedestrian required the application of sudden brakes if we were to not send him to a hospital. Of course the car that was much behind us thought that no braking was required even if the vehicle in front of it had stopped. Result: a Scorpio rammed into our vehicle. Thankfully none of us were hurt. My friend's brand new car however required a change of bumper and some metal work. The traffic in Agra — horrible. Mumbaikars will appreciate this: think of the peak time traffic at Saki Naka, Andheri. Without the discipline (yeah, it really is much disciplined) and a 100 times more chaos. Mind boggles?
• As always, Agra is filthy. It is only the area around the Taj Mahal that's relatively clean.

• The Taj Mahal is worth the trouble though. This was my third visit to the Taj Mahal, but I would willingly make the  trip again purely for the first glimpse of the Taj. For that instant, when you  walk in from the entrance and behold it for the first time, the Taj takes your breath away. The crowds however are as thick as you will find them anywhere in our country. It being a weekend plus with it being a  long holiday it felt even more crowded this time. After taking in the press of the crowd I decided against stepping inside the Taj. My friends however braved the crowd and did the whole tour.

• The Yamuna behind the Taj  — It is on my third visit that I discovered that the natural color of its waters is not black. Perhaps because the Yamuna was flooded, the river actually looked beautiful.
• The crowds continued to find us at the Akshardham Temple in Noida. I have visited the  temple earlier and have been recommending it virtually anybody new to Delhi. It's is magnificent. This time we visited intending to take in the famous sound and light show. We saw the crowds and turned back. The metro ride to the temple and back was great.
• In all our driving around Delhi, the Anna Hazare and the Lokpal Bill issue seemed faraway. The media had hyped it way too much. Apart from a random person carrying a flag or teenagers wearing Anna T-shirts and caps, there was little evidence in New Delhi of the turmoil created by Anna Hazare's fast at the Ramlila Maidan.
• All in all a good trip. But I was glad to get back to Mumbai's rain-soaked weather.  Reminder to self: Next visit to Delhi only in winter.

Pictures from the trip: Photoset | Slideshow

Mamachya Gavala Jau Ya . . . After 25 Years

Photoset | Slideshow

For the benefit of non-Maharashtrians, Mamachya Gavala Jau Ya is a popular Marathi kiddy song about taking a train to visit your Mama (maternal uncle, mom's brother) in his village. The reason for invoking the song in the title was my visit to my Mama's village, also my birthplace, last week. I was visiting after 25 years. I stayed there for a couple of days — time I spent in going all over the village to see how old remembered landmarks have changed (or merely appear different) over time.

Some thoughts and observations from the trip:

• In some trains, the 3AC compartments are way better and modern than the 2AC ones. A case in point was the 3AC compartment of the Sewagram Express from Mumbai to Nagpur. Having failed to secure 2AC tickets, I boarded the compartment with some trepidation, expecting people squeezed together and was pleasantly surprised. The same train on the return journey, two days later however had older and less swanky compartments.
• Nothing prepares you for some unexpected changes and additions to a place you are seeing again after 25 years. Sindi (Rly.), the village I was visiting, is still small (you can stroll from one end to the other in about 10 minutes), but it now has concrete roads. Even the smaller "gallis" are concretized.
• I derived much enjoyment from directing my uncle the way to his home. For kicks, after receiving me at the railway station, he asked me if I remembered the way. Since the journey was in near darkness (the Sewagram Express reaches at 04:40 in the morning) it was also great fun to point out to him and identify barely visible landmarks — "That should be the sawmill . . . those structures over there must be the granaries . . .these buildings are new, but that one tucked in there is the school . . . oh well, this is totally changed, but I suppose this is still the village bus stop. . . " Then seeing my uncle's face I stopped in front of his house but pretended to be confused which was the door to his home. The house had changed so much that the confusion could look genuine.
• One thing that journey from the railway station to the home taught me — If you are visiting after 25 years, people expect you to be lost and take pleasure in it. For the next two days, I played the "What has happened to the village I knew" role to the full hilt. A point to be noted, 25 years is a long time — time enough for landmarks and things change, but not enough to be completely erased.
• Some things do change completely. There were no longer any cattle or other livestock on the streets. The streets are now completely taken over by motorized vehicles. Any cows, goats, chickens and other assorted animals I saw either were in the fields or confined to their pens and coops.
• What is it with villages and early mornings? For the two days I was there, I used to be up, showered, and breakfasted by 08:30 AM. At home on a holiday or even on a Sunday, it would be sacrilege to be out of bed before 09:30 AM. After waking up so early, and having a lot of time on your hands, there was little choice but to accompany my uncle to his daily visit to the village's main temple.
• The Hanuman mandir of the village is really "very, very old." But no one knows exactly how old — "It was here even before I was a child," said the temple's ancient priest. "When was that?" "Hmm. . . I don't know . . . before Independence . . . I remember going to Gandhiji's ashram in Wardha when he was there." I remembered the path to the temple very well but had surprisingly forgotten it's most distinguishing feature — the temple housed a rare two-headed swaymbhu Hanuman idol.
• When you are visiting after 25 years, there are a lot of social calls to be made. In a village the size of Sindi, this was usually in the form of my uncle being hailed from a window or a shop as we walked along the "main street." I soon realized that most of the greetings were to satiate the curiosity of finding my uncle with a stranger. And once memories were sufficiently jogged, it always resulted in a cup of tea. Refusal was not on the cards for that always resulted in the standard "you city folk find the tea of our village below acceptable standards" dialogue and other variants of it. I had way too many cups of tea. 
• One such cup of tea was with an old tailor who hailed my uncle and me from his workshop as we passed by. The tailor later, as we were sipping the tea (and I was somnolently watching the sleepy market place), claimed that he had stitched my clothes when I was little more than a baby. This could be true, for he claimed that back then he was the only tailor in the village.
• In many ways, the village has changed for the better — concrete roads, a few more schools, and even a college. The village has become a sort of a hub for the neighboring villages. There were of course some things that I would have preferred not to have changed. Many of the old style houses have made way for the ugly brick and concrete boxes that somehow only we seem to design and build. And the small river at one end of the village has now become a weed choked and sewage filled nullah.
• Farmers are big gamblers (and optimists). Their entire livelihood is a gamble — Indian agriculture and especially farming in Vidharbha is highly dependent on the rains. If that wasn't a big enough deterrent by itself, many farmers (and this is while farmer suicides are still common in Vidharbha) still gamble on cotton. Cotton prices a few years back had sky rocketed to Rs. 6500 a quintal on the back of a global demand due to crop failure elsewhere. Today the typical Vidharbha cotton farmer still gambles on the price reaching the earlier giddy heights (and using the money to wipe off all his debts). These days cotton sells, if at all it sells, at around Rs. 2500 a quintal.

• Cotton, even otherwise, is a labor-intensive and an investment-intensive crop. It needs regular weeding and care, frequent doses of insecticide, pesticide, fertilizer, pruning, etc, etc. To top it all, if it rains once the cotton balls are ready to be picked . . . A great many farmers have switched to other alternatives — tur dal (yellow pigeon peas), onions, soya bean (soya bean apparently is largely a "sow and forget" kind of a crop, requiring one dose of fertilizer and one spraying of insecticide).
• Farming too is highly politicized. Going by my uncle and the few other farmers I met, the local "native" farmhands are the laziest of the lot but have a lot of political backing due to the born again "sons of the soil" movement. The best workers are the migratory ones from the south and north of India (and now some even from West Bengal in the east) who work twice as hard and are cheaper. But a preponderance of "other" workers in your field can be "damaging" for your crops. This actually is one big reason why many farmers are moving away from labor-intensive cotton. The Vidharbha cotton farming problem, I feel, will eventually be solved not by writing-off the farmers' loans, but by banning farmhands from other states completely.

Sindi railway station has a couple of platforms that are at the level of the railway tracks. You basically climb-up into the train or climb-down out of it — something I had realized after having to stumble down the train's steps on reaching there early morning. The platforms are also short in length. From most of the train compartments, you climb down to the tracks and then pick your way in the darkness towards the lights of the platform. But it was on my way back, I realized just how small and laid back the village and its railway station is even today. Six trains halt at Sindi daily of which only two will bring you from and to Mumbai. After darkness, only the lights in the main station building are switched on. If you have a train to take, you inform the station master, who then switches on all the lights along the platform a few minutes before the train arrives. The same person will also courteously come over and tell you that the train is expected in the next few minutes. I boarded the Sewagram Express on my way back again. I was the only person to board the train at the station. 

I think I have had my fill of village life for the time being in spite of all the fresh food, green farms, etc. I would find the village in some ways claustrophobic if I were on an extended stay. Life is centered on too few things — and these days the one biggest thing is television. Even when you meet other people, television and local politics are the main topics of discussion. Time weighs heavy in your hands — an hour, feels twice as long and I realized I am not as laid back as my friends make me out to be. I also realized I am too much of an Internet addict to stay in any village for an extended time — well at least not till it can guarantee me a good broadband connection. Till then a couple of days every now and then is good enough for me.

Pictures from the trip: Photoset | Slideshow

Travels, Pictures, etc.

Each of these should have had a separate post but . . .it has been ages since I made these trips and while incidents and high points are still fresh I think it will be better if I just post the links to the pictures and let them do most of the talking. These trips are all from last year — and were a wonderful break/change in what otherwise was a routine and below-the-par year.

Amboli: Amboli is the last hill station in Maharashtra before you enter the state of Goa. It is also the rainiest place in Maharashtra and has a thick rainforest. Being a little crazy, a friend and I decided to make this entire journey on a bike in May 2010. A single bike. My friend piloted the wheels while I rode pillion. This necessitated a few logistical decisions. The biggest one — I carried one humongous haversack on my back containing in two other bags all our clothes, etc for the trip — the bag weighed upwards of a couple of tonnes. Additionally, there was another bag that carried my friend's camera and lenses. Plus a tripod for the camera. For the entire trip apart from the bag on my back I carried the camera bag or the tripod in my hands.  Amboli, from Mumbai is at 545 Kms, close to the Maharashtra - Goa border, just a little off Sawantwadi. By the time we returned to Mumbai we had traversed over 1300 Kms on the bike. Most of which I now remember only as a big haze of pain. People, in case you don't know it: Bike seats are not easy on the butt, especially if you weigh close to a ton, and are carrying a couple of tonnes in luggage on your back.

Highpoints: In spite of all the pain, a bike trip is awesome. It was wonderful to explore Amboli and the area around Amboli — Sawantwadi, Terekhol, Shiroda Vengurla on a bike. Amboli's rainforest abounds in butterflies, amphibians and reptiles. The best part of the trip was undoubtedly the night safari in Amboli — we saw quite a few snakes up close including a number of brown and green Malabar pit vipers. We also caught a glimpse of a palm civet cat. A must visit place in Amboli is the Hiranyakeshi Ugam — easily one of the most serene and peaceful places I have visited.

Amboli: Photoset | Slideshow

Dubuque, Iowa: In the last week of September and first week of October last year I was in Dubuque, Iowa, USA for an "onsite" — a work-related trip. Dubuque is a wonderful, quaint little town about 180 miles off Chicago. Iowa is the heart of corn-growing region of the US and while I was landing at Dubuque's small airport, it felt like corn was planted next to the runway itself.

Highpoints: Dubuque has the world's biggest volunteer-managed arboretum and botanical gardens. This was a couple of miles from where I stayed in Dubuque and I almost visited the arboretum daily and walked back to my hotel. The Mississippi which flows next to the town (Dubuque advertises itself as "Masterpiece on the Mississippi") has a lovely "river-walk" next to it. I used the one week-end that I had in Dubuque to explore the Victorian downtown of Dubuque and around the Mississippi.

Dubuque: Photoset | Slideshow

Phansad, Kashid, Korlai: Back in India from Dubuque, a couple of friends decided to go to Phansad near Alibag for a "birding" trip and I tagged along. Phansad is a small wildlife sanctuary close to the beaches of Kashid and Murud-Janjira. The trip was a disappointment though. We hardly saw any wildlife inside Phansad. We did visit the beaches of Kashid and Korlai.

Highpoints: The clean, long beach of Kashid and a  monitor lizard that crossed the road in front of our vehicle on our return journey.

Phansad, Kashid, Korlai: Photoset | Slideshow

Bird Watching at Uran

Photoset | Slideshow

Last Saturday, 20th March 2010, I went to Uran with a couple of friends for some birding (bird watching as it is otherwise called). We three have been planning a outing for some time now but, for various reasons, were unable to actually make a trip — one of us had joined a new workplace, my alternate weekends are booked with other commitments, and add to that the usual workplace pressures. Since December last year we were contemplating visiting the Phansad Bird Sanctuary (near Kashid and Murud) and finally we realized that the plan looked unlikely to materialize with our varied schedules and responsibilities.

Then last week, two of us decided to trek the Yeoor hills that border Thane. These hills mark the boundaries of one side of the Sanjay Gandhi National Park. We called the third member of our trio and asked him to join us. He agreed to a trip but suggested an alternative. At this time of the year, he reasoned, it will be tough to see any birds in Yeoor and offered Uran as an option. Uran is an old small fishing village/ town on the very fringes of what is now known as New-Mumbai (it is about 20 kms from both Panvel and Vashi, close to the JNPT). It has a small jetty and a lot of sea marshes which are a haven for birds. Uran seemed the more likely bet for catching some birds and so to Uran we went.

So early morning on Saturday I took the 05:30 AM train from my place and headed to Mulund from where we were driving to Uran. By 06:15 AM we had pointed the car's nose to New Mumbai and were on our way. Even that early in the morning — the sun had barely started coloring the sky — it was so hot and sweltering that we had to run the car's AC at full blast. Over the next 30 minutes, while we drove towards Uran, we brought each other up in recent developments — professional and personal. Our friend updated us about his new workplace and we brought him up to date with the developments in his old office. And then by mutual consent, we decided to speak no further of our offices and work — We had hit the road that turns to JNPT and Uran and we turned our eyes to the marshy flats and grasses on either side of the road. The car's speed was brought down to a crawl and the cameras readied.

Soon we spotted a flock of wading birds walking the flats. The birds were having breakfast in the receding tidewaters. We parked and jumped off the road and started approaching the birds cautiously. But all our caution was of no avail. They would fly further and further away if we moved even a limb or turned our heads. Due to the marshy mud, we couldn't follow them much. We finally stayed put and eventually some birds came close enough to be photographed. These turned out to be pond herons and black-winged stilts. After about 15 minutes we climbed back to the road and used the next few minutes to scrape the mud off our shoes and to wipe the buckets of sweat that we were producing in the extremely warm and humid weather. We then got back into the car, switched the AC on again and finished the only bottle of water that I had carried with me.

We pressed on further towards Uran. Soon we sighted some storks (probably Adjutants) and cormorants. But they were too far away to be photographed. We did try but got only blurry outlines to show for our efforts.

We then entered Uran. Uran now looks like a place which has just started transforming itself from a sleepy fishing village to a sleepy small town — narrow streets, few shops, few "tapris" selling chai and vadas and some people sitting around doing nothing. Along the way to Uran's jetty, we saw some purple moorhens — who promptly hid themselves in some tall grass when we pulled out our cameras, some more cormorants and herons, a few kingfishers, shrikes, and some lapwings. We eventually found the way to the jetty and spent a delightful hour watching the bustle of busy fisher folk and a flock of seagulls hunting fish in the shallows. From the jetty, we got a few photographs of the gulls — they were flapping around for their breakfast so much that it was tough to get any decent pictures. But we managed a few.

After about an hour, we looked around for a place to have some breakfast ourselves and found one which was willing to serve us some vada-pav and tea. We stocked ourselves with a few more bottles of water. From the jetty we drove a couple of meters (on the recommendation of a local) to the Umberdevi Mandir. The temple is in a small nook covered with some huge trees and has a huge well at one end. We saw a few red-whiskered bulbuls and magpies here. From the temple we turned the car about and started looking for a pond. Our paltry Internet research before embarking on this trip had fetched us one nugget of information — the pond behind the JNPT police station was a good place to see birds. However all our asking around didn't get us directions. One fellow directed us to a "Vimla lake" which turned out to be a decent sized lake in the middle of the town with a garden and benches around it.

Back on the road heading out of Uran towards Panvel, another local directed us to a road which curved away from the main road and headed through some more flat land. It looked promising and we turned the car off the main road and headed in the direction that was pointed out to us. The road did eventually reach a police station, but there was no pond behind it. And for most of the way, we found that the flats along the road were the result of many dumpers offloading debris and soil — clearly some major construction project was in the offing. The road eventually curved and turned and brought us back to the road that went to Panvel. By this time it was nearly 11:00 AM and the sun was making the already hot weather unbearable. The birds too had disappeared with the rising heat. We decided to head to Karjat from where two of us could board a train back to our places. After a short stop to fortify ourselves with some food and more water we eventually reached Karjat at 1:00 PM and I was home by 2:30 PM.

The trip was mixed. It was good to get out and do something different. And it was good to catch up with friends after ages. It would have been nicer if we had sighted a few more birds than we did or if we could have managed more and better pictures of the ones we did get to see. For the time and effort spent, the returns of the trip in birding terms were low. But this happens — you have some brilliant days of bird watching and sometimes you have days like these — not really disappointing but you feel it could have been better.

You will find all the pictures from the trip here: Uran - Bird Watching: Photoset | Slideshow

Karnala Bird Sanctuary

Photoset | Slideshow

Last Sunday morning, I woke up early. Really early. I was up and about even before the sun had peeped out. This sacrifice of sleep on a Sunday was to assist a friend in carrying out a test. One of my school friends has acquired a scooty — a Honda Aviator. While we have made some short trips on it, my friend wanted to put the scooty through its paces and see if it could be used safely over longish distances. And my friend wanted to see if the scooty could do some decent distances at decent speeds whilst hauling my considerable bulk and me. I, ever the person who would do anything (ok, almost anything) for his friends, agreed to put my life and limb at risk (and sacrifice my sleep) and so the scooty was put to the test.

Karnala, which is about a 55 Km one-way ride from our homes, we felt would be an ideal destination for this test ride. Karnala is an easily accessible bird sanctuary along the Mumbai-Goa highway — it is about 10 Kms from Panvel. The sanctuary is also home to a ruined fort atop a mountain within the sanctuary. My friend didn't want to indulge in any seriously strenuous activity and, even as we were planning this "test," vetoed the idea of trekking to the fort on reaching the sanctuary. "Riding with you pillion will be strenuous enough," is what he remarked, if I remember rightly. I agreed there was (much) substance in his excuse and we decided to skip the trek to the fort.

We started at about 6.00 AM from our homes. We planned to reach Karnala around sunrise, the best time to see any birds. The morning trip was largely in gloom and while the Aviator did have headlamps, they were feeble against the darkness. Maybe that explains why neither of us saw the speed breaker (one of those monstrous ones that sprout up unexpectedly just after turns on Indian roads). For about a few milliseconds we (the scooty, my friend, my cell phone, and me) experienced what it feels to fly like a bird. Thanks to our cool heads and my friend's skill with the scooty, and my substantial experience as a pillion rider, the scooty landed safely back on the road upright on its two wheels with us back in our seats. My cell phone which had jumped out of my pocket came down following a flight path that landed it between my friend and me. From there it was quickly and dexterously snagged before it continued taxing downwards to the road and returned to my pocket. Even as we sped away further, we ran through a mental checklist to ensure that all our limbs and body parts and the scooty's parts were attached and in working order. My friend grumbled and worried the effect of my substantial weight smacking down on his scooty's suspension. I pointed out that my weight was what probably ensured that our trajectory through the air on hitting the speed breaker was within the earth's atmosphere and we didn't end up in earth orbit.

We reached Karnala without further excitement and after forking out the Rs. 20 per head entrance charge we walked into the Sanctuary. The Forest guard who was selling the tickets informed us that only two more people had entered the sanctuary before us and that the crowds would not be turning up at least for another couple of hours. A few meters from the entrance, a small map displayed the various trails in the sanctuary and the way to the fort. After studying the map for a few moments, we decided to first take the 1 Km Hariyali trail and then take the 6 Km Mor Taka trail which branched out from it. The map showed the Mor Taka taking a circuitous detour through the forest. It then turned back eventually and brought trekkers to the main road of Karnala next to a spot marked on the map as "Bird Cages." It all looked simple and easy enough — we just had to keep following the trail and we would be alright. Stopping occasionally to look for birds and clicking photographs, we estimated that we would be near the bird cages in a couple of hours. So we started.

And it quickly dawned on me that Karnala is unlike any other sanctuaries I have been to earlier. Firstly, you do hear a few birds and if you are really patient you eventually rewarded with the glimpse of a wing flapping in the distance. But forget about clicking any decent pictures if you are not carrying one of those high-end cameras with bazooka lenses. And even then, I suspect, you would get about one decent shot in a few dozen. We did glimpse a lot of barbets, wood pigeons, some sunbirds, magpies, Alexandrine parakeets, and even racket-tailed drongos. But none of them offered any opportunity to click any pictures.

Secondly, the trails are not clearly marked at all. I counted only 2 markers in about 3 hours of trekking and maybe half a dozen stones daubed sloppily with some whitewash. Largely, that we were on a trail, was indicated by the occasional presence of discarded plastic bottles or gutka wrappers left along the trail by some idiots who must have walked the trail ages ago. For most of the way the Mor Taka trail is only a narrow path that seems to have been marked by some grazing animals using it over and over again. Often the trail ended smack into a growth of cacti or was overgrown with creepers and other growth.

We were initially thrilled with this. A bit of scouting around usually showed us how to skirt these obstacles and get back on the trail again further ahead. After all, we reasoned, what's the point of walking a forest trail if it is going to be paved or tarred? So we gamely walked the trial, finding our way around clumps of cacti or brambles, often jumping over now dry streambeds or ditches. We always found what approximated for the Mor Taka trail sooner or later. And while we kept a look out for birds, we realized that with the kind of camera we had with us we wouldn't be getting any pictures. Not that it disappointed us. There were a lot of interesting things to look at and click pictures of at the ground level: butterflies, spiders, interesting spider webs, mushrooms, cacti blooms, other wildflowers and blooms and even the occasional langoors. We made good progress for about a couple of hours before the trail gave way to thick grass and brambles. Walking through them for a bit brought us above a small "ravine" and while we looked around for some time we could find no further path or any signs of the trail. We decided to retrace our steps back.

After sometime we eventually hit the main road inside Karnala once again. By this time it was packed with kids and groups and families determinedly making a lot of ruckus to ensure they had a good time. My friend felt we should at least visit the "Bird Cages" marked on the map and so we walked up the road. The "Bird Cages" turned out to be a couple of sheds that housed a few sorry birds and animals. One cage had a duck. Another housed a few rabbits. One had a few Alexandrine and Rose-ringed Parakeets, another had a peahen. The last cage had a peacock as its inmate. And this is where most of the crowds were, busy clicking pictures of the sorry lodgers of the cages and making further noise. Meanwhile the peacock decided it was time to unfurl its plumage for the public and we were rewarded with the sight of a bloke who went all ecstatic at the sight. He glued himself right to the cage and whipped out his cell phone to click a picture. And then he started entreating the peacock, "Come on Sweetie, come on baby. Come closer to me. My sweetie, come closer to me. I am waiting here to take your picture, my baby. Come to me, my sweet." And more on those lines. I rolled my eyes at my friend and suggested that we get out of the place. My friend, who happened to be standing behind this gent while he was entreating his "sweetie,” gasted his flabber completely. After watching and hearing the guy for a couple of minutes, he turned to me and wondered, "Does he know the peacock is a male bird?" I replied, "I am not sure he realizes it is a bird." By this time, the peacock probably had enough of the bloke's sweet entreaties and turned its back on him.

We set out soon after. In a few minutes we were out of the Sanctuary and on the scooty on our way back. We stopped at "Shanbhar Vishranti" for a breakfast. Shanbhar Vishranti is quite famous for its food and I have heard about it often earlier but never had the opportunity to sample its fare. Based on the missal pav, thalipeeth, and kanda bhaji I can vouch that its reputation is well deserved. Shanbhar Vishranti also has a small shop which sells local food products. I picked up some Kokum burfi and Aamla burfi - both of which turned out to be excellent. Shanbhar Vishranti is about a couple of kilometers from Karnala.

After a hugely satisfying breakfast we started back once again. This time we decided to take an alternative longer route back. So instead of going via Panvel and Taloja (our route in the morning), we took the old Mumbai-Pune Highway up to Karjat and then took the road that branches towards Karjat and on to Neral and further. The road is very scenic and has little traffic till you reach Badlapur. It does have a few rough stretches but is largely in a good condition. We made good speed and were back in Ambernath by 12:15 PM.

Karnala is good outing, if you don't go without too many expectations of seeing a variety of birds. If you are so inclined you can always trek up to the fort. I am told the views from atop the fort are excellent. Our primary aim of the trip was to test the Aviator. Well, we made the trip to Karnala and back and it was largely smooth but for when the roads turned patchy. And the scooty, after carrying my weight (and of my friend) for about 120 Kms, is still in good condition. I am now trying to convince my friend to extend the distance for the next trip and try for Revdanda and its fort next. One day, we might make that trip.

You will find all the pictures from the trip here: Karnala Photoset | Slideshow

Mahabaleshwar and Wai

Photoset | Slideshow

Towards the end of October last year, a couple of my friends (ya, the same ones I accompanied for trips to Matheran, Uttarakhand and Corbett early last year and to Bandhavgarh, Kanha and Pachmarhi before that) decided I needed some cheering and a break. Add to it that one of them had just acquired a Fiat Punto and wanted to notch up some decent long distance driving. So after some initial discussion we headed to Mahabaleshwar on a Thursday afternoon in the 10th month of the last year. That this post is coming now tells you how busy, pre-occupied, or lazy I have been all this while.

Mahabaleshwar is a wonderful and salubrious place — but it is quickly becoming a tourist trap. We typically avoid such places. However we felt that our timing (after Diwali) would ensure we miss large crowds. And we planned to use Mahabaleshwar as a base (tourist place = better hotels) to explore some of the non-touristy places around.

We found an excellent place to say (Soonder Villa — totally recommended) about a kilometer from Mahabaleshwar's market. Soonder Villa is tucked at the end of one of the lanes which branch off the road that eventually goes toward Elephant Head, Lodwick, and Sunset points. It is wonderfully secluded and the property is covered with thick trees.

On our first day in Mahabaleshwar, we drove out and a bit down the ghat to Panchgani (excellent breakfast at the New Lucky Moon Cafe — try their Chicken Salami sandwich) and then further down to explore the quaint town of Wai. Wai is on the banks of the river Krishna and a number of temples line the river's ghats. The temple of Dholya Ganapati — so called because of the huge stone idol of Ganapati that it houses — is the most well known. After walking around the ghats we ventured inside the town looking for old Maharashtrian Wadas (bungalows). We did find one but it turned out to be the a restricted access area — it currently houses a Maharashtra Government Press. The security there were the most helpful however and directed us to drive a further 3 Kms to Menavali. The village of Menavali has a wada of Nana Phadnavis — an influential minister of the Maratha empire during the reign of the Peshwas.

We duly arrived in Menavali to find that it is the "Charanpur" village from the movie Swades directed by Ashutosh Gowariker. Nana Phadnavis' wada adjourns a ghat on the Krishna river. A lovely temple dedicated to Lord Shiva stands at one end of the ghat. This ghat (and many other areas of the village) feature prominently in the movie. From Menavali we drove a further 7 Kms to the Dhom dam and spent a quiet hour walking along the embankments of the dam's catchment area. We spotted some Drongos and even Indian Rollers here.

The drive from Wai to Menavali and on to Dhom is lovely — small single lane road bordered by thick trees and farms. It is the kind of drive where you roll down your car's windows and breath in the fresh scent of ripening crops and leaves. On our way back, we stopped for a very late lunch at a farm just outside of Wai which was advertising "Shetavarcha Jevan" — literally a meal at a farm but also means a meal cooked (for want of a better word) "farm-style." The meals were served at a table under a couple of mango trees with farms bordering one side of seating area. The freshly-prepared meal was simple but tasted awesome and after about 30 minutes of hogging, we leaned back sated. We budged out of our seats only after about another 10 minutes or so.

That evening we walked to the Elephant head point about 3-4 Kms away from where we were staying. It is a lovely walk passing through thick woods and Elephant's Head at the end of it is wonderful. Elephant's head is a bit further from the Sunset and Lodwick's Point — to which people throng in the evenings to view the setting sun. Consequently Elephant's Head is relatively free of crowds — often there is no one else in the evening and it is wonderful place to sit, view the sunset, and talk. The walk back is even more wonderful. The crowds that throng Sunset and Lodwick's Point and their cars leave right after the sun sets. So it is only in you and your friends walking through thick woods which have just about started to make all sorts of sounds. And did I mention there is only one solitary road light at a junction till you hit the main road? You have only the moonlight to light your way. (An earlier post about the same walk from about 5 years back: The Road)

The next day, Saturday we visited the touristy points in Mahabaleshwar — Kate's Point, Needle-Head Point, Arthur's Seat (very nice views) and a few others. In the evening we headed back to Elephant Head point, this time in a car. My friends planned to try some evening and night-time photography and we didn't fancy carrying a heavy tripod and cameras and lenses and walk 10 Kms. After we reached there, much experimentation and talk of "exposures," F-focus, apertures (much of which didn't make any sense to me) happened. But a thoroughly good time was had by all. We then drove down to Venna Lake — to a small restaurant called "Hirkani" and sampled their fabulous all-you-can-eat Maharashtrian dinner.

On Sunday we started early from Mahabaleshwar and headed back for our homes. En route we stopped at the MAPRO factory and outlet just outside of Panchgani and stocked up on jelly sweets, orange marmalade, syrups, and jams. The place also serves humongous sandwiches and huge helpings of strawberries and cream which makes for an excellent (and heavy) breakfast. Thereafter we drove leisurely to give us enough time to digest our breakfast and were back home by late afternoon.

Mahabaleshwar and Wai: Photoset | Slideshow

Pictures from an earlier visit to Mahabaleshwar, Panchgani and Pratapgad: Photoset | Slideshow

Matheran in the Monsoon

Photoset | Slideshow

Last Saturday, along with a couple of friends, I visited what probably is Mumbai's favorite hill-station: Matheran. All of us have been jaded (and generally tired) for some time now. We had been discussing for a couple of weeks, about visiting Matheran for a day trip. The plan actually was finalized on Friday. Saturday morning I boarded a train from Ambernath (where I stay) to Neral (which is the staging town for Matheran) at 8.00. My friends, for once had a sampling of my daily commute. They had boarded the train earlier. By 8:45 we were in Neral and after a wonderful breakfast of Vada-Pav chased down with tea, we took a cab to Dasturi Naka - about 9 km away.

Matheran is a pedestrian-only hill-station covered in a thick rain forest (mathe – head, ran – forest, so Matheran, in Marathi, is literally the hill top forest) on one of the mountains that constitute the Sahaydri range. One has to walk everywhere within Matheran and most of these walks, naturally are either uphill or downhill. Horses are available for the lazy who prefer to be ferried everywhere on somebody else's horsepower, but the three of us preferred walking. We walked about 15 km that Saturday, through thick rain forest and heavy mists.

Matheran is usually crowded and noisy given its proximity to Mumbai. But we were lucky — we went a weekend after the 15th August Independence Day weekend and a day before the Ganapati festival commenced. Along with the swine flu scare, this timing ensured that the hill-station had virtually no crowds. We could walk peacefully; take our time to admire the forest and the dense grass and other vegetation that had sprung up in the rains. We could take it easy at Matheran's various (viewing) points and take pictures without being jostled or without having any unnecessary primates entering the frame.

We visited three points. The first on our itinerary was Panorama point which is about a 6 km trek to and from Dasturi Naka. This took most of our early morning. The pathway to Panorama is bordered by cliffs on one side which in this season are covered with thick vegetation. The other side belongs to the deep forest. From the valley side, at this time of the year, mists keep rolling in and visibility is often poor. It is eerie and thrilling — all you see is a bit of the pathway and the dripping trees. Your feet naturally never stray from the middle of the path when the mist rolls in. At the end of the trek you reach a point with valleys on all three sides of you and lovely views. In front of you, are a couple of peaks one of which has an old dilapidated fort. On one side, you can make out a huge lake and a few streams in the valley along with scattered villages. The other side provides a further glimpse of another of the Sahaydri valleys and a small portion of Neral. Panorama is incidentally at one end of Matheran and so hardly gets any crowds.

After returning to Dasturi, we trekked to Matheran proper. That is a 3 km walk that takes you past Aman Lodge - one of the stations along the Matheran toy train railway — and eventually deposits you at Bazarpeth. This is Central Matheran and has its market. The Bazarpeth, incidentally, has Matheran's has only stretch of cobbled road (this is a recent development) otherwise all the roads in Matheran are of packed earth.

On our way to Matheran's Bazarpeth we spotted a snake — a du-tondi — (du - prefix for two, tondi - face) 2-faced one. This snake's tail also looks likes its head and hence the belief that it has two heads. After the little fellow posed for a few pictures, we continued on our way. Around 12:15 PM we found ourselves on Matheran's main street and extremely hungry. A small "tapri" offered to cook lunch for us provided we were willing to wait for 20 minutes. We were. As we waited, thick mists suddenly rolled in from the valley. Actually I don't know if we can call it a mist. Think of it more as a huge bunch of clouds that funneled themselves up through the valley using the wind and then blew into Matheran. Visibility was suddenly reduced to a few feet. As the mist/cloud rolled in and piled thicker and thicker it suddenly started to pour. Heavily. We had our lunch watching the rain cascade down. By the time we finished our lunch, the rain had reduced to a drizzle and we set forth in the rain.

The drizzle soon stopped however and the jungle started steaming. In midst of this we were squelching our way to One-Tree Hill which is about a 2.5 km trek from Matheran's Bazarpeth. Matheran was established by the British and has numerous bungalows which are reminiscent of the Raj. Many of these border the pathway to One-Tree Hill. Most of these are now abandoned and dilapidated and look like something out of a horror movie. The forest has claimed most of the estates. Thick trees now grow all over their gardens. The bungalows themselves are totally covered with moss and some have bits that have caved in. Often all that is left of an estate is the entrance, and a nameplate carved in stone. As we walked towards One-Tree Hill we suddenly came across an entrance which proclaimed that the bungalow was "The Homestead" and that it was the estate of Sir Ratan Tata. Being employees of the Tata group we were naturally curious and intrigued to see the illustrious name in Matheran. A board above the entrance proclaimed that it was a convalescent home. We entered the estate to find a sprawling ruin, boarded up, partly caved in and now overgrown with trees and moss and creepers. We found a small outhouse which had a caretaker and his family and struck a conversation with him. We introduced ourselves as Tata employees. He confirmed that the estate belonged to the Tata group. It was formerly used as a convalescent home for Tata trustees and employees. But the estate was closed 15 years ago. Now sometimes somebody from the Tata Trust visits about once a year, walks around, asks the caretaker if he needs anything in particular and then returns. The caretaker said that there was some rumor and discussion about the Tatas converting it to a hotel/resort (it really is a huge estate) but nothing materialized of it. It was sad to see the estate reducing itself to a ruin. We came out of the estate and continued our journey to One-Tree Hill.

One-Tree Hill is again at one end of a cliff. You descend from the pathway and then make your way further down along the edge of a very slippery cliff. I slipped once but unfortunately didn't go all the way down. After you negotiate this path, and shoo away the monkeys chittering at you further along the pathway, you climb up a wee bit to reach a small hilltop. You are now face to face with a huge stone cliff on the top of which used to stand a solitary tree. Hence the name of the hill. Now the original tree is gone and a new one is growing in its place but it will be sometime before the present One- (work in progress) Tree Hill does justice to its name again. There is a small pathway that goes up that cliff. But everything was so covered with moss that after some debate we decided to abort any plans of actually getting on to One-Tree Hill. So there we were — Standing on one hill top and gazing at another in front of us. Behind us was the slippery climb up back to the pathway. On either side of us were deep valleys. We did the prudent thing — walk around the edges of the cliff that we were standing on and admire the view. The view looks down on the catchment area of a dam (probably Malavali dam) on one side. So you see this huge lake spread out for you. On the other side you see a deep valley and far away down some fields and a few houses. There is a lone rock which sort of hangs in the air from the cliff and over the valley. A slippery trail goes to it, the kind of trail where if you don't stop yourself in time you would take the quick way down to the base of the hills that have Matheran as their crowning glory. So we sat there for some time, took a few pictures and then decided to get back to the pathway. After a few minutes of careful and strenuous climbing and a few incidents of losing our footing, we were back on the pathway.

By this time it was nearly 4.00 PM. We were thirsty but found that we had exhausted all our water. So we decided to make a beeline to Charlotte Lake. This supplies water to Matheran and has a small temple at one end along with a couple of small stalls selling tea, corn on the cob, etc. The way to it Charlotte Lake from One-Tree Hill is lovely. The pathway is covered in thick dark forest. The little light that filters in through the leaves makes everything look green. In the monsoon, with water droplets glistening on the leaves everything looks a sort of liquid green.

We eventually reached Charlotte Lake and stopped at a stall for tea and water. The stall has been adopted by a couple of stray dogs one of who took a liking to me. For the 20 minutes or so that we were there, this dog would insist that I scratch its head, ears, and throat. If I stopped it would lick my hand and then nudge it with its nose. The dog would keep this up till I gave in and started again. When we finally decided to make a move, it gave me a mournful look which sort of conveyed what it thought of me - What an idiot you are! Walking through km of rain forest when you could sit here and scratch my head! - It then gave my hand a farewell lick and very philosophically sat down and curled itself back to sleep.

We then started trekking back. By this time it was around 5.00 PM and the light was getting murkier. We had to get back to Dasturi to head back home. This meant first walking back to Matheran's Bazarpeth - about 2 km away. From Bazarpeth it is another 3–4 km to Dasturi. We decided this time to walk along the toy train railway tracks (the train doesn't run in the rains due to landslides etc). A part of the railway tracks has a valley on one side and it is a nice walk downhill along the cliff edge. At some spots, where there is a bit of extra space alongside the tracks, the locals have set up small stalls. We stopped at one such "tapri" for another round of tea. Eventually we reached Aman Lodge — the station closest to Dasturi. From there we moved off the tracks and walked to Dasturi Naka. From Dasturi we again took a cab and were in Neral around 6:30 PM. Soon enough (after a quick snack) we boarded our train and I reached home around 7:45 PM.

I have been to Matheran twice before and each time I have found that I hated the crowds and the dust. I have never really liked Matheran earlier. On my last visit, last year I did feel that a monsoon visit might change my mind about this place. Matheran in the monsoon was a nice experience. I think it helped that we were there on a day when there was absolutely no crowd. It is in this that I realized how nice this place can be especially at this time of the year. It offers a lot of solitude. The air is nice and fresh; the forests are green and lovely (even the trees are covered with green moss) and apart from your conversation or the occasional whinny of a horse or the gust of wind in the treetops there are no noise. Maybe that is what it takes to like this place. On our way back we contemplated if we should bunk office on a couple of weekdays and stay in Matheran and explore some of it by night. And the rest of it, which we haven't visited yet, by day. I guess that will have to wait till the next monsoon.

Matheran in the Monsoon: Photoset | Slideshow

Earlier post on Matheran: Matheran: The Hilltop Rainforest

Uttarakhand, Jim Corbett National Park, Agra, and Delhi

I returned from my road trip through some parts of states Uttarakhand, Uttar Pradesh and Delhi about a fortnight back. As I had foreseen in my last post, I did feel too lazy to post about the trip the minute I got back to Mumbai and then a couple of days later, the office sat up and clamored for all my attention. A couple of weeks of that and I find my memories of all the places we visited are in broad brushstrokes (my senility is the only thing in my life that seems to be on an upward curve day by day) and worse — I find I have very little time to put anything down.

But as promised earlier, there are loads and loads of photographs. My two friends were busy with their cameras through the trip and we did have a substantial number of pictures. Over the last two weeks, we sneaked in a few minutes every day to weed out and sort and then optimize these photographs for the web. The last weekend was used up to upload them and order them and then over the week we again snatched a few precious minutes as and when we could, to caption them. The captioning took time as we had to refer to books and websites to find the names of the numerous birds we saw in this trip. That task is finally done, though there are a couple of birds that we haven't been able to identify yet. Before linking to the photographs, I wondered if I might have a stab at describing the trip. . . or whatever I remember of it. Let me try to at least give you the rough sketches of the places we visited.

We landed in Delhi late in the night on 27th March and drove overnight to our first destination, Bhimtal.

Bhimtal: Lovely lake. And that about is all that there is to it. The drive from Pantnagar to Nainital en route to Bhimtal was awesome — early morning, swirling mists, fields, and soon the hills, and the conifers. As was the drive to Bhimtal from Nainital. Deep valleys on one side of the road and thick forests on the other. At Bhimtal we found a place to stay overlooking the lake. Bhimtal's lake got its name from a locally believed myth that Bhima from the Mahabharata had smashed his mace here forming the lake.

As I said earlier, there is nothing in Bhimtal apart from the lake. But it is a quiet spot and has none of the mad and noisy crowds that characterize Nainital. One can take nice long walks around the perimeter of the lake and if like us you are interested in birds (or "birding"/bird watching), Bhimtal won't disappoint you. The lake and the area around it is a haven for birds — stonechats, sunbirds, warblers, swallows, and the lovely Himalayan Tree-Pie.

Mukteshwar: Was where we stayed next. We however took a detour and first went to Nakuchiatal which is another small village around a lake with nine corners (hence the name "Naku"). It is scenic and is an even quieter place than Bhimtal. We brought the rains with us as we entered Nakuchiatal and after a really cold and wind-whipped hour around the lake we decided to head to Mukteshwar.

I totally recommend the drive up from Bhowali to Mukteshwar. The drive climbs steadily up winding round and round the hills. On one side, as you spiral up, you see these picturesque villages and small streams and rivers forded by bridges and on the other thick conifers with loads of birds and above the bluest skies you will ever see. And just when you feel this can't get better, you enter Mukteshwar. And is it lovely! I think I fell in love with Mukteshwar as we drove through the forests that surround it to enter the small town. Soft sunlight filters through the deodar pines. If you step out of your car you hear the crunch of pine needles. The air is chill, fresh and smells green. It was to me the loveliest place we visited in our entire trip — serene, calm, and breathtakingly beautiful. Mukteshwar has lovely views of the Himalayas from one end of the town. We first explored Mukteshwar for sometime before looking for a hotel. And like in Nakuchiatal, we brought the rains along with us to this place. You can imagine the effect of the rains on a place which is about 2500 meters above sea level and has a steady wind blowing in from the Himalayas. That night each one of us burrowed under a thick rug and a blanket and that was the about the only way to stay warm.

The next morning we went trekking in the woods at one end of Mukteshwar and it turned out to be another great place to see birds. There is a trail that goes to some craggy overhanging rock cliffs called Chauli-ki-jali through these woods and that is where we went. The trail from the cliffs then takes a sharp upward turn and after meandering, and climbing steadily through some more lovely woods, deposits you at the top of hill on which sits a quaint wood and stone temple dedicated to "Mukteshwar" (Lord Shiva). The temple is small but lovely and its premises are covered with small bells that devotees leave behind as offerings when their prayers are answered.

Post that we trekked back through the woods, had some piping-hot Maggi noodles at a roadside shop and then headed to Almora/Binsar.

Almora/Binsar: The drive to Almora from Mukteshwar, as you can expect in this district, is lovely. But while you anticipate a lovely small town at the end of it, you find yourself in a crowded single-street town called Almora. It was noisy and even had traffic jams! We however had to stay in this place. It was the only major town for miles and our car needed some repairs badly — its fuel tank was leaking. Also our real destination, the Binsar forest reserve, was 36 Kms from Almora. Binsar does have a few hotels (3, if I counted right) but charge about Rs. 5000 a night to stay.

So we stayed the night in Almora and the next day drove to Binsar. And then hopped off the car and hiked through the woods for about 7-8 Kms, taking our time to stalk birds (with cameras only). Occasionally the woods would clear to reveal a view of the Himalayas covered in thick clouds. Binsar Reserve is a nice bit of forest and while the locals say the some wild animals (including the snow leopard) are seen in the reserve, we didn't seen any on our walk.

Kausani: From Binsar we headed to Kausani, about 70 Kms away. This was to be our base for the next couple of days. The last 30 Kms of the drive were magical — ripening fields on one side

and us climbing up the mountains on the other. A river and some streams flow through these fields and this stretch, apart from the sheer beauty of it, is a great place to catch sight of hoopoes, pied kingfishers and other birds.

At Kausani we found a hotel which assigned us a room with a balcony. All we had to do was step

into the balcony or open a window and see the Himalayas stretched from one end of the horizon to another. The Himalayas, changed color through the day with the changing position of the sun and glowed softly in the moonlight when it was dark. One can sit and watch this play of colors and take a lifetime to tire of it.

From Kausani we went to Baijnath which has some 6th century temples. The temple complex is home to a Parvati idol and two of the loveliest Ganeshas carved out of stone. The temple complex is next to a river which slows down here and forms a deep pool. The fish here are considered sacred and fed by the devotees and the pool swarms with fat, huge fish. And maybe that is the reason why so many people come to sigh over and look so wistfully at the water — so much food and . . .

Kausani, like the places we visited earlier, too has a nature trail. We dutifully trekked it and had a nice picnic lunch of various biscuits sitting on moss covered stones and tree stumps next to a stream, shaded by huge deodar pine trees. Kausani was also the place where we sampled some buransh squash — made from rhododendron flowers. Yummy.

Ranikhet: After two days at Kausani, we drove the 80 Kms to Ranikhet. Ranikhet wasn't in our earlier tentative plan. But having spent a day less in Uttarakhand's lake district, we had an extra day to spare before heading to the Jim Corbett National Park. So we decided to give Ranikhet a try (the choice was confirmed on coming to know that Corbett was only a 125 Kms from this place). And were we thankful that we visited it! First of all the drive from Kausani to Ranikhet is mind blowing. We took over 4 hrs to cover the 80 Kms. The roads to Ranikhet pass through some of Uttarakhand's loveliest vistas — woods, ripening fields, streams, small valleys. We often stopped the car to stalk and photograph birds or simply as an excuse to stretch our legs in the beautiful countryside.

Ranikhet is a lovely army cantonment town. After finding a hotel, we decided to head through its forests to a place called "Bhalu Dam" — a trek of 9 Kms. When we reached the head of the trail, we found ourselves surrounded by a few guides who insisted that we couldn't enter the forests and hope reach Bhalu dam without the help of an experienced guide — that there are so many paths that we would soon be lost. They were so insistent that we thought they were attempting to take us for a ride and we gave them a miss. 2 Kms into the forest, 20 minutes later we realized, we indeed had no clue where we were heading. We had stopped in a clearing in the forests and I found my cell phone had a signal. So we called our driver who was waiting at the head of the trail and asked him to send a guide to us. He handed the phone over to a guide and after we described our surroundings, the guide turned up in some time. We then pressed ahead to Bhalu dam on the way passing a loggers' hut.

Ranikhet's deodar and oak forest is surprisingly silent — we hardly heard any insects much less a bird. After walking to the dam, we decided that we needed to see another part of the forest where possibly we could see some bird and animal life. So we asked the guide to take us back from another route — he did. All of it uphill. Can you imagine a person of my size, walking up steep hills for Kms?! Phew! I and as did the others suddenly found the plants to be frequently interesting and often stopped to admire a leaf or even a thorn. In my case I collected oak acorns as I climbed up, taking my time over each choice.

Finally when we reached our vehicle again, the guide felt we had earned a reward and suggested that we visit the army's garbage dump outside Ranikhet if we wanted to see eagles. We gave him a skeptical look, but he was insistent. We thought he was pulling our leg but decided to give it a shot anyway. The guide was right. The small garbage dump is tucked behind a clump of pine trees just off the road 4 Kms from Ranikhet. And the trees are covered with eagles — huge ones. And walking in the dump were Egyptian vultures! We even spotted a jackal.

But it was on our way back into Ranikhet that I had one of the best experiences of this trip — the magical sunset over Ranikhet. The sky had colors in layers — gold, red, blue, black and white. And then there at one end was the Himalayan range glowing beatifically in the setting sun's light. We stopped the car and then sat on milestones watching the sun go down and the mountains changing color.

Ranikhet to Ramnagar: The next morning we started very early for Ramnagar which is the staging town if you want to visit Jim Corbett National Park. We were under strict instructions to be in Ramnagar by 13:00 as we had to be inside the forest by 14:00. The drive again was lovely. You descend from 1300 meters to around 300 meters in about 4 hours. And for most of the drive you feel that you are driving through Ladakh, so similar to it is this landscape. Bleak hills and valleys, bare but for a few trees, sharp chilly winds (we had some sleet on our way out of Ranikhet) and harsh cries of kites, shikras and droves of parakeets. Do this drive sometime in your life.

Corbett: Jim Corbett National Park was all that we hoped it would be and much more. Thick,

really thick forests of sal and a lush undergrowth of lantanas, and jungle jasmine and kadi patta, and stretches of grasslands. We stayed in rest houses deep inside the forest — the kind of rest houses that had electricity only for 3 hours in the evening. The first day we stayed in Bijrani. After an evening safari on elephant back, the next morning we ventured deeper into the forest in an open gypsy. We had a close brush with a king cobra. The snake was sun-bathing and acquiring a tan next to the trail, minding its own business only to find that our gypsy had slowed down right next to it — about a couple of feet away. Even as we were slowing down, it had started stirring and was about to take a keener interest in us when our driver realized what was happening. He immediately pressed down the accelerator and took us a further few meters away. When we turned around the magnificent beast was slithering away into the forest's undergrowth. Was it lovely!

That afternoon, we moved to the Gairal rest house. On our afternoon safari, we saw our first tiger, across the Ramganga River that flows through Corbett. It walked nonchalantly out of the thick forest and settled into a pool of water to cool itself. After half an hour of soaking, it got up and just as nonchalantly walked away.

Corbett is however noted for its Gharial crocodiles, wild elephants and huge variety of birds. We saw over a 100 variety of birds in this place — from the impressive changeable hawk-eagle to the ugly red-necked vulture, from the minuscule sunbird to the Kalij Pheasant. And in a range of colors — red, green (we even saw a green and yellow dove), black, blue, crimson, and yellow. We saw 4 types of woodpeckers and kingfishers — including one little fellow which caught and swallowed a fish that seemed as big as it was and then found that its meal was so heavy it couldn't fly. And another one which had caught a snake for dinner. We saw a couple of 6-7 meters long gharials on the banks of the Ramganga and also spotted a mugger croc.

And on our last day we came across wild elephants. We spotted a few of them — only their heads but could make out the sounds of the herd trumpeting inside — the forest is so thick that it can even hide elephants from view. Soon after, we spotted another tiger. And then on the banks of the river, walking through a fire line (clearings made in forests to control forest fires) we saw this solitary elephant walking majestically towards us. We were right in its path but the magnificent animal didn't change its direction at all. We finally made way for it and the elephant passed a few feet behind our gypsy. Our driver had kept the vehicle running in case the elephant took undue interest in us and charged. We later came to know that an elephant from the herd we had sighted earlier had charged a cantor that morning after we had left the area. But watching that elephant walk towards us was easily the standout experience of Corbett.

Agra: The drive from Ramnagar to Agra is easily the worst in India (or nearly the worst). For stretches there is no road, except a series of holes — and when I mean stretches I mean stretches at least 20-30 Kms long. And mind you, this road is a state highway.

Agra itself is dirty and for a town that has much to be proud of, obnoxious. Except for the Taj Mahal and the Agra Fort the rest of the town is a dump.

I have been to Agra earlier, about 5 years back and so this was my second visit to the Taj. And I like to visit it for 2 reasons:

1. The first sight of the Taj Mahal as you step in through the huge red sandstone entrance — it takes your breath away in that first 5 seconds.

2. The two red sandstone structures on either side of the Taj — a masjid and a meheman khana. Hardly anyone enters these buildings and they are the best places to sit and watch and contemplate the beauty of the Taj.

From the Taj Mahal we headed to and explored the Agra Fort — which given its rich history and numerous beautiful buildings — the Diwan-i-Am, Khas Mahal, the Jahangiri Mahal — is a wonderful place to walk around. Our initial plan was to stay in Agra for two days and visit Fatehpur Sikri as well. But post the Taj and the Agra Fort, we decided that we had enough of Agra's dirt and headed straight to Delhi.

Delhi: On a colleague's recommendation we ended up in Delhi's Paharganj which (make no mistake) is the inspiration for the neon-lit landscape of Las Vegas. Lane after lane in this area is packed with hotels — neon signs blinking away merrily in the night. That place could easily have a 200-300 quality hotels in a locality that looks like it can't decide whether it should degenerate into a slum or rise to something better.

The next morning we headed to Jama Masjid, India's largest and best known mosque. It is a lovely serene place — a huge stone courtyard framed in with stone walls and with a magnificent red mosque at one end. That early in the morning, there were quite a few visitors but so huge is that courtyard that it looked quite empty.

Delhi's Red Fort is opposite the Jama Masjid and it is a hollow shell. There are a few structures inside, a couple of them are marvelous but overall the Red Fort is disappointing. The afternoon was however nice. On the recommendation of a friend who now stays in Delhi we visited the Akshardham temple in Noida. Add this temple to one of the places you have to visit. The carvings on this biggest temple in the world are so exquisite they inspire a sense of awe — that something this beautiful can be made even in these times. You should see the expressions on the faces of the statues — they look alive. The main temple is delicately carved with petals and leaves on the inside. If you stare at the ceiling, you feel that flowers and leaves are gently falling down on you like blessings. We rounded off the day with a visit to India Gate and then in the evening explored the crazy Connaught Place.

The next day was the last day of our trip. In the morning we visited the Qutub Minar, the world's tallest brick minaret. The Qutub Minar complex is also home to the Ashoka Pillar, a metallurgical curiosity. This iron pillar, cast centuries ago, doesn't corrode.

From Qutub Minar we headed to a friend's place (the same one who had recommended visiting Akshardham) and stayed over for lunch and evening coffee before heading to the airport. A few hours later, we were back in the sweltering heat of Mumbai and already wondering where to head for the next trip.

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Here are the links to pictures (you might have to allow sometime for the pictures to download and display, depending on the speed of your Internet connection). Hope you enjoy them:

Uttarakhand: Pictures | Slideshow

Jim Corbett National Park: Pictures | Slideshow

Agra and Delhi: Pictures | Slideshow