The flight from Madrid was short & peaceful for all those aboard – except me. I glanced at my family – my wife and both the children – the happiness of having already been to Greece, Italy & Spain apparent on their face. Yes, the journey so far was good and very enjoyable. But here I was, getting tensed, though more with anticipation.
It was almost after 7 years that I was about to see her. Of course, even seven years ago, it was just a brief meeting and yet it was enough for me to remain hooked on. And now, when I was so near, I was getting tensed. Was my romance at first sight just the fleeting moment of fancy? Will my decision to spend almost a week with her, alongwith my family, a touch courageous? So many thoughts & questions were clouding my mind when the aircraft – descending from the clouded sky brought me down to the terra-firma.
The pulse was seriously beating faster now as we embarked, the feet actually moving faster so that I can see her. And then that first look at her and all misgivings just disappeared. She still had the same alluring charm and intrigue around her which had mesmerized me 7 years ago. In fact, the passing of time had done wonders to her.
And at that moment I was ready to let the whole world know that I fell in love again – with the City of Romance – Paris!

I have no idea why Paris alone is called the city of Romance. I am sure there are places as good if not better. Yet, it is Paris which has been bestowed this honour since ages. And justice it does to this honour.
It is very difficult to actually decode the reason behind finding it so romantic. But there is a palpable attraction in the city that weaves its own magic – like an enchantress from the old magic fables – and keeps one hooked on.

To an extent, the enigma of Paris is due to its being so involved with such great events that have resulted in change of course for the entire history. Having been established by the Gauls, attacked and invaded by Julias Caesar, civil wars, religious struggles between Protestant & Catholic movement, Marie Antoinette, Napoleon, destruction in both the world wars, taken over by Nazis in 1940 and liberated again in 1944 – Paris has been at the centre of some of the most fiercely fought wars & political /monarchial skirmishes. Each time, Paris rose to a glory, there were setbacks, and like a proverbial Phoenix, it again rose from its ashes to even greater heights.

To me, as we traveled through one of the most tourist friendly city, the charm of this city lies in its deep rooted love for art, culture and freedom. The Renaissance period in Europe and the French Revolution in late 18th century coupled with the ever modern outlook of the Parisians has created a mystical aura for the city.

A series of monarchies have undoubtedly left its impact on the city’s architecture and yet there is continuity. Despite being a modern Megapolis, the Notre-dame and the Louvre made during 12th to 14th century still look in sync with the the Arch-de-Triumph and Pantheon of 18th Century.

Even, La Madeleine – a Greek Temple in the middle of Paris built in 18th Century by Napoleon with Corinthian columns – and an Egyptian obelisk in the centre of Place De la Concorde, covered, with hieroglyphics depicting the great life of the pharaoh Ramses II, just makes the city that much more interesting.

And towering above all these is the Eiffel Tower – a perfect vantage point to experience the city.

Paris has a superbly developed infrastructure – capable of taking you with ease from any one place to another. But essentially it must be experienced on foot. Walking through the streets lined with open air cafes, browsing through varied re-prints of art and cityscape, visiting some of the most beautiful parks full of Parisians and the tourists enjoying the summer warmth, one can but not help breathing in the city’s vivacious energy.

Various statues & sculpture all around lend their own magic to the city and yet are unable to draw your attention away from the marvelous facades of the buildings around which mesmerize you in.

And like statistics, what these building hide inside is even more interesting. A must visit on any itinerary are the Louvre, Musee-de-Orsay and a number of other museums – including the ones dedicated to art of eroticism and fake articles!

Though it is Mona-Lisa which is one of the chief attractions for everyone visiting Paris, I found the city a real treasure trove for art lovers.

Rodin’s sculptures, Salvador Dali’s abstract forms, Van Gogh’s poignant history through his painting and Da Vinci’s genius are only a tip of what lies inside these museums – an inspiration always to the current generation of artists.

As if the days spent in visiting all these are not exciting enough, the evenings of Paris make it further interesting. Sitting in the open air bus and passing through – by now – a well illuminated city – is another sight that cannot be experienced elsewhere in the world.

Adding to this is a must visit to any of the well-known cabarets, including Moulin Rouge – the birth place of Can Can dance, to actually experience the meaning of word “Effervescence”.

While, we, the adults, were going gaga over the city, and kids were getting treated to a history and culture lesson, the high point for the kids were the 2 days spent at the Disneyland Paris. In fact, though distinctly not Parisian in style, the Disneyland still manages to be an extension of the city. Roaming inside Disneyland with all kind of joy-rides available around you can bring a child out of an adult too.

After spending one full week in Paris, as we were taking off to our next destination, I was again trying to decipher why Paris is so romantic. And I think the answer lies in the city’s attitude to life – everything in life is a celebration – and a celebration at a grand scale but without pompousness.

Hemingway had written if you are lucky enough to have lived in Paris as a young man, then wherever you go for the rest of your life, it stays with you, for Paris is a movable feast.

Small wonder that another 3 years have passed since I last saw her and yet, I can still close my eyes and feel the vibrancy and the unmistakable sense of pulsating joy. I am eager to see her again and be with her, because for me, my romance with Paris still lingers on…

This is one of the runners up entry for the trip of the lifetime contest. Congrats to the writer

This was an idea which was not encouraged by many!

Vacation in South in summer? Bangalore to Ooty to Pondicherry?? By Road??? In MAY????

Those who love us, generously termed it an adventurous plan….while other, thought of it as an asinine one, but out of politeness and finding me stubborn, actually did not use the word.

To be honest, I had my doubts too. Travelling in May anywhere in India generally is quite an arduous task. Travelling in south India, largely Tamilnadu, in what is called the month of Agninakshatram, can be worse. That’s why I was quite content with going to Bangalore & Ooty. But, soon at the request (~ nay, command) of the Missus, it first became Ooty – Pondicherry & then Ooty – Yercaud – Pondicherry.

And that’s how it all began, when an early morning in May, we embarked from Bangalore on a road journey of about 1500 kms, which in next few days was to take us right upto Chennai, through a route on which we were to cross over dense reserved forests, pass through the ever-twisting roads of Nilgiri mountains – well matched by the tongue-twisting names of most of the places on the entire route, steep climbs of Sheveroy Hills and plains of Tamilnadu graced with the presence of Indian rollers before seeing the sun rising from beyond the Bay of Bengal at the eastern coast of India. But all that was yet to be experienced.

A journey through road always has an advantage – it allows the detours & stoppages as one would desire. Our journey too, while keeping to the originally planned destinations, had its own unplanned & sudden stoppages & detours, the first one being to admire the wooden toys that are churned out in numbers at Chennapatna – a town on Bangalore – Mysore highway, also called the toy-town of Karnataka. Originated as an industry in the times of Tipu Sultan, the wooden toys of this town are made from variety of woods. What makes these toys different is the superb colours, provided through vegetable dyes, and fine glossy finish brought to it with lacquer.

Another detour meanwhile was on our way. As we reached closer to Srirangapatnam, we noticed a small road turning towards Somnathpur, that houses a 13th century Hoysala temple dedicated to Kesava or Krishna. Having visited it a few years earlier, we had fallen in love with the Krishna idol inside the temple and this was just the perfect opportunity, which we would not have missed. The road to the temple, bumpy in patches, passes through the paddy fields & sugarcane fields, with more than occasional Gulmohurs in full bloom providing the shade as well as adding that perfect red hue.

The temple itself, despite being almost 750 years old, is still in quite a good condition. Another thing which immediately differentiates it – and may be most of the other heritage temple structures like Mahabalipuram – from more popular temples, is sprawling open areas and absence of religious fervour amongst the visitors. As a result, one can actually be in commune with the god unlike the more popular temples, one of which we visited later at Thiruvannamalai characterized by an ever present ongoing tussle between the devotees – each one of them wanting to spend more time with the deity and pujaris with their attitude bordering on arrogance ensuring the denial of this desire.

Leaving Somnathpur behind, we were on our way to Ooty. The approach to Ooty, as one enters the forests of Bandipur followed by Mudu-malai, and start climbing the Nilgiris, fills up one with lots of expectations and all senses are at alert The freshness in the air, a drop in the temperature, dense green colour in variety of shades all around, Gulmohur trees in full bloom slowly giving way to the tall Eucalyptus trees as road climbs up, clouds, sun and the trees creating their own shadow-play, occasional sightings of mammals like elephants, gaurs and monkeys, all looked like good omen for our stay at Ooty – till we reached Ooty. One look at the landscape of concrete jungle and all pervading noise and we wanted to escape from the reign of this queen of hill stations.

We still managed to stay in Ooty for next 4 days was largely due to the excellent location of Derby Green Resort – which despite being in the heart of the city, due to its elevated location overlooking the sprawling racecourse, allows one to still find some solitude and breathe freely in this otherwise crowded city.

Added to that were some sudden surprises as well as delightful moments –finding a not so visited trail around the lake towards the south-end, experiencing a variety of flowers in all kind of colours at surprisingly crowd-less Arboretum, checking out the tea factory on the way to Dodda Betta Peak, being explained the difference between Dosai & Roast at one of the restaurants, strolling amidst Botanical Garden peeping at unheard of and unseen flowers, watching a large flock of Oriental White-eyes near Lamb’s Rock at Coonoor, taking a drive into Wellington, experiencing, though apprehensively, our first ever moment of a train maneuvering itself in reverse gear as our heritage toy train reached Coonoor station.

The moments were many which kept us hooked on till, we were again on the road, this time travelling towards Yercaud via Mettupalayam & Salem.
Yercaud – meaning lake (yeri) and forest (kaadu), at Shevaroy hills near Salem is at a height of about 4500 ft. The road from Salem rises suddenly in last few kilometers to reach this height and hence has a number of hair-pin bends that makes the climb interesting as well as challenging. Yercaud itself – more of a sleepy town, as compared to the hustle-bustle at Ooty, was a welcome change.

For a Mumbaikar, Yercaud is Panchghani, Mahabaleshwar & Matheran, all rolled into one – steep climbs, a lake centric town and a table-top that gets busy over the weekend. However, what make it different are the dense forests and the coffee and spice plantations all around that can be explored through treks for birding.

Even our stay in an old estate and situate amidst spice & coffee plantation, was truly soul-refreshing. Dense green all around, small bungalows like of structure for boarding, and lots of avifauna including robins, barbets, bulbuls, flycatchers, minivets, swallows and woodpeckers to keep you company. The only thing that could have made us move from there was our already planned itinerary and we again hit the road on our way to Pondicherry.
This time, the road journey, was more interesting, as rather than catching up the national highway through Salem, we climbed down through the forests towards Uthangarai, where we had one of the best dosa/roast breakfasts, and then moved towards Pondi through a country-side that was full of Indian rollers & kingfisher. Finding rollers perched on wires and trees almost every few hundred metres was too much of a temptation and ultimately we got down to chasing one of them with our camera, till we captured one of the few good shots of the bird. We were not lucky enough though in Thiruvanamalai, a temple town with towering Gopurams, where our surreptitious attempts to take pictures of deities failed miserably.

Another interesting sight on the way to Pondi, which we dared not visit due to scorching heat of the mid noon, was the forts of Gingee –one of the most impregnable citadels of south India. The forts has had an interesting history of rulers ranging from Cholas to Bijapur Sultan to Marathas under Shivaji followed by Moghuls, French, Hyder Ali & finally British. Since the forts would have required a good climb, leaving it for a winter trip, we finally reached Pondi – our last boarding halt of the trip. Our wishlist included a visit to the Aurobindo Ashram, Auroville, experiencing the French flavour of the town & capturing the sunrise from the eastern coast of the country. However, to some extent it remained unfulfilled.

A very small area around the Aurobindo Ashram truly resembles a small French town.
But that’s all that was French about this town. India has reached almost to the Ashram gates leaving nothing that distinguishes the remaining part of the town from any other noisy and crowded towns of the country. A real let down from our expectations.

However, what still makes us look forward to re-visit Pondi was our experience at the Ashram and Auroville – serene, peaceful and in case of Auroville, also superb display of the entire idea of unity and peace through modern architecture. The volunteers – coming to the Ashram from various parts of the world and serving with their calm yet firm demeanor contrasts so well with the rudeness which most of the pujaris & volunteers exhibit in their interaction with the devotees in most of the temples in the country.

The sunrise that we saw from the beach at the Zest resort of Club Mahindra, both the mornings were different and beautiful. The early morning mist over the Bay of Bengal, roaring waves of the high tide, the clouds playing a cameo, the fishing boats out in the sea like early birds, all provided a lovely character to the mornings. The resort itself was a good experience – well laid out, spacious with zen style of minimally furnished rooms.

And then came the finishing touches to the entire trip.

First, a last moment change of plan due to our yayawari attitude made us decide to take the Eastern Coast Road, one of the best highways that I have travelled on, so that we could visit Mahabalipuram shore temples – a heritage site with mind-blowing carvings of various deities that have survived the centuries of history and ravaging of weather, including even a tsunami.

And finally, as our flight took to the sky towards Mumbai and broke through the dense cloud cover with sun about to say goodbye to the evening, the colours that lit across were similar to our experience in this trip –dark and bland on the surface till we broke through the routine and found ourselves enjoying the unexplored colours of the country. And yes, travelling in the hot summer in south India actually turned out to be quite a good idea. As a Greek poet had written –
the road was long but full of adventure, the summer mornings were many that allowed us so much pleasure & joy to enter the ports seen for the first time.

High, High, what a feeling to fly
Over mountains & forests and seas
And to go anywhere that I please.

The Eagles, sung so beautifully by the famous Swedish pop group Abba, has been a perennial favourite of mine since my college days as it epitomizes the freedom one would love to enjoy – just like the eagles and other majestic birds.

During our trip to Amritsar & Dharamshala, the song kept echoing to me– when we visited Wagah, at the border with Pakistan, and again during our stay in Dharamshala.

As we travelled from Amritsar towards Dharamshala, the fog that had surrounded us was indeed a symbol of the life in the plains. All encompassing fog of a very cold and dreary late morning, making us fearful of our next move, showing us the silhouttes even where none existed, neither allowing us to experience the journey nor letting the feeble effort of sunrays to succeed in warming us. Travelling through such a fog for a distance of almost 100 Kms towards Pathankot was truly an “enlightening” experience that we could not have forgotten in a hurry.

The word “Dharamshala” can have two meanings – one, a place where pilgrims can stay free of cost, and the other, the abode of religion. Dharamshala makes one experience both the meanings of this word.

For the Tibetans, on their long & ever-lasting quest for freedom from Chinese imperialism, Mcleodganj, a few miles away from Dharamshala has been their seat of Government-in-exile, and one can be forgiven if the place is mistaken for Tibet.

On the other hand, a plethora of temples of Hindu deities, an ancient church, a couple of Buddhist monastries and a beautiful institute of Tibetan Art & Culture amidst the snow capped peaks of Dhauladhar range of Himalayas gives it an aura befitting a place that can be equated to an abode of religion.
Adding to the mystique were the sprawling tea gardens, poinsettias in full blooms, dry & rocky river beds, early morning winter sun, towering presence of Kangra fort, occasional clouds, in the words of Tagore, bringing colours to the sunset sky, all pervading silence most part of the day, broken only by the songs of birds – I am sure something like this must have been the inspiration when Gulzar wrote:

Barfili sardiyon men, kisi bhi pahad par, waadi men goonjti hui khamoshiyan sunen

With weather so refreshing the soul was ready to soar – just like those eagles & other raptors who were gracing the skies at Dharamshala – bringing me back to the song Eagles – where I began writing this travelogue.

At Wagah, amid the jingoistic shouting of people from both the sides of the borders and the entire chaos of hundreds of people wanting to get somehow a glimpse of the entire ceremony, the image that remained in my mind was that of the Mynahs & Sparrows, flitting with ease from one side of the border to another – just like the sun which had rose in the morning on the Indian side and was now setting across the border.

The song remained with me in Dharmshala as I frequently observed a large number of raptors soaring in the clear blue sky of crisp winters. These birds seamlessly fly across the mountains and waters and man-made borders as they migrate with the changing seasons and no barrier seems to be insurmountable to them.

Both the images were in so much contrast to the one of the border – with customary check posts and barricades – and of the people at both the sides – so similar in appearance and habits – and yet separated by an inanimate fence, with no soul, which could create such a difference that each one, in an one-upmanship, was screaming out slogans louder than the people from the other country.

And, we the human beings are supposed to be more gifted in our intelligence than the birds and animals.

Closer home, Jaaved Akhtar had penned it down so beautifully for the movie Refugee:

Panchhi, Nadiya, Pawan Ke Jhonke,
Koi Sarhad na Inhe Roke,
Sarhad Insanon ke liye hai
Socho, tumne aur maine, kya paya Insaan hoke!

And isn’t it true even within the border as we, in our personal life too, find more reasons that differentiate us than the reasons that can unite us. May be it is time for all us human beings to be intelligent enough to imbibe some of the attitude of supposedly lesser intelligent birds.

More pictures of the trip are available here.

This is one of the winning entries of the “My Trip of a Lifetime” contest by Ashish Mantri

A quiet awakening, about 2500 years ago, was taking place in the mind and spirit of the residents of a small town – located on a sea shore, almost at the far end of the western border of a civilized world. We today think and feel differently because of the events that took place circa 500 BC in this little town. What transpired was the development of the first recorded attempt to introduce Democracy as a way of life; and nothing remained the same – for the world and for that little town known as “Athens”.

And here we were, free citizens of the largest democracy of the world, travelling – as a part of the first leg of our trip to Europe – to Athens. This was definitely not intended to be a trip to pay respect to the cradle of modern democratic state. Nevertheless, each place that we saw and experienced over 3 days in Athens was for us not only a trip of lifetime but a journey into the lifetime of history itself.

Athens, a heady concoction of modernity with history, needs to be explored leisurely. Being short on time however, we used the early morning and day time to explore the historic remains, while evenings were spent in exploring the streets of the city, specially Glyfada, a beautiful suburb, close to the sea shore.

The main street, bright and lively; was made more vibrant with the cosmopolitan potpourri pervading the streets. A couple of musicians, playing their instruments on the street corner, a man with a bioscope, walls with unusual tiles, all added to the quaintness of the street. The hawkers, mostly natives of Asian & African countries, were trying to outsell each other by resorting to the tactics similar to what we see here, in India.

Early mornings, our taxi driver Dimitri –nay, our Friend and Guide for two days, eagerly took us for a tour of the city, and other surrounding areas. Well informed and eloquent about the entire history of the places we were visiting, he was equally interested in knowing more about India and her culture.

The first trip took us on the route starting from ancient Acropolis of Corinth, Mycenae, Epidaurus and Nafplio. Corinth is known for the 6.3 km long canal – cutting across the Isthmus of Corinth, linking the Gulf of Corinth with the Saronic Gulf in the Aegean Sea, saving for smaller ships a journey of about 400 Kms. Although it was finally built in 1893, the history does speak about earlier efforts to build a canal at this location commencing from 7th century BC right through the period of Roman emperors, Julius Caesar and Nero.

Our next halt was Mycenae – one of the mightiest kingdom of ancient Greece. Mycenae, believed to have been established around 2000 BC, is where Greek mythology meets the history, the most well-known one being the abduction of Helen, sister-in-law of Mycenae’s king Agamemnon – leading to the Trojan War.

As one walks into the fort through the Lions’ Gate, one can easily imagine the dramatic past. The national museum at Mycenae, showcasing ancient art, sculpture and civilization – including golden mask of Agamemnon, indeed amazes you with the level of art, science and knowledge achieved about 3500 years ago. No wonder, the period of 1600-1100 BC in Greece is known as Mycenaean period.

The tour took us back to Athens from Mycenae via the Amphitheatre of Epidaurus and the port town of Nafplio – popular among Athenians for weekend trips, with its mid-harbour Venetian fort of Bourtzi and on-shore castle of Palamidi.

The Amphitheatre of Epidaurus showcases the advancement of Greek civilization. Designed & built in 4th Century B.C., the theatre, with 55 semi-circular rows to seat about 14000 people and a lush green backdrop to its centre stage, is renowned for its excellent acoustics. The theatre is so designed that even the unamplified sound of a match struck at the centre stage can be heard clearly by the audience seated anywhere in the theatre. While sitting in the Amphitheater, I could imagine the thrill of the audience 2500 years ago watching the performers enacting Greek tragedies.

The last day of our trip was spent in exploring the ancient sites of Athens itself in the morning, starting with the Parthenon, a 4th Century B.C. temple of Goddess Athena – the reigning deity and protector of Athens. Established as a temple as well as a treasury, the Parthenon was later converted into a church and then a mosque as the rulers changed in Athens, before finally getting severely damaged due to an explosion in the ammunition dump inside the temple. In the ruins now, one can still imagine its past beauty and strength. Comparatively, the temple of Olympian Zeus – construction for which commenced in 6th Century BC and completed in 2nd Century AD – which was renowned as the largest temple in the Greece during Roman times, lies in complete ruins now and its glory days just can not be imagined.

Our last visit was to the Temple of Poseidon, the god of oceans, at Cape Sounion, a perfect setting for signing off from Athens. The temple, dedicated to the second most powerful god in the Greek Mythology, is another 5th Century creation now in ruins. The temple itself has a panoramic location – on a high cliff jutting out to the lovely, blue, Aegean Sea. The cool breeze, all pervading peace, interspersed with the sound of waves breaking onto the shore below the temple made British Poet Lord Byron write:

Place me on Sunium’s marbled steep,
Where nothing, save the waves and I,
May hear our mutual murmurs sweep
As we left Greece, I realised that the essence of Greece is in the beauty that looks desolate initially, but as you reach out to understand its history, it grows onto you and keeps you hooked forever. No wonder, even after two years, Athens is one of the destinations closest to my heart. Paraphrasing Lord Byron, I would love to say:
“O City of Athens, ‘ere we part, Give, oh give me back my heart!”

When you really want something, the whole universe conspires to help you realise your desire.

The surging crowd at the Mumbai airport the day immediately after the voting day was a stark contrast not only to the empty voting centres but also to the cloudless empty skies of the city. The smouldering heat of midsummer afternoon was stinging the eyes as we boarded the aircraft on the tarmac.

The air route from Mumbai to Trivandrum, specially for those sitting on the right side of the plane, is monotonous as the only features visible of the terra firma are: a shore line and the vast sea, made further hazy due to rising heat.

Closer to Trivandrum, the pre-monsoon clouds in the sky surrounding the aircraft, were the first welcome change in the sky while the huge pool of backwaters were changing the landscape . Soon, the aircraft glided with flaps readying for landing towards the land, the sea changed its colour, waves could be seen rocking over the beach seemingly golden with evening sun, and first sight of Trivandrum was a land thickly carpeted green with canopies of coconut plantations. An apt sight while landing in Kerala – the land of Kera (coconut), this sea of tranquility seen on arrival at Trivandrum was a perfect precursor to an idyllic holiday in which our first destination was Ashtamudi.

The random explorations of ours at Ashtamudi culminated in entire montage of memories – morning sunrays weaving their way through numerous Chinese fishing nets, Brahminy kites taking a flight at the break of dawn and intermittently wheeling overhead eyeing the catch of fishermen, small houses with thatched roofs on both sides of the lake using lake for regular transportation the way we use roads, a couple of ferries working late in the night – their reflection in dark waters resembling mumbai’s local trains on a day of heavy rains, bright eyed children with unbridled joy in the surroundings devoid of anything resembling comforts, a couple of fishermen fishing barehand after the dusk with the help of a petromax lamp submerged into the water, an old lady working on her coir making equipment converting a shade full of coconut husk into coir, another lady rowing a boat on her own making her own statement about women empowerment, sounds emerging of a choir singing in the church on one of the evenings, elephants decked up and readied for the procession of the temple festival at Chavara South or wonderful rendering of hindi movie songs – new as well as of yesteryears, by guest singer Mr. Shibu at the Resort.

As the weekend ended, we started the manic monday drive to Poovar – biding audieu to the lake & sea-shore of Kollam, with images of the lazy holiday– some my camera could capture while most of them remain captive to the memory. More of the images captured by camera during this part of our trip can be seen here

How does one describe the experience of travelling into the vastness of water – water where all pervading silence during the day is an exception to the chattering regime of waders, ducks and birds? Though there is a limitation to the language which makes it difficult to recount one’s encounter with the bounty that nature bestows on us, effort I shall still make! A crisp but not very cold Friday morning, early March this year, found myself & Amit Gupta travelling from Ahmedabad to Nalsarovar.

Pic :Ashish

For the uninitiated, or new to birding, Nalsarovar is a huge reservoir of water (about 121sq km) about 60 km away from Ahmedabad, formed naturally in a shallow depression. The lake being shallow and marshy has made it extremely attractive for the wintering migrants – especially water-birds and cranes, who come in numbers. A night train connecting Mumbai & Ahmedabad makes it convenient for a day long birding trip and that’s how we were en-route Nalsarovar early morning.

Pic : Ashish

As we reached closer to our destination, dawn was breaking. The rising sun gave light to the fields on both sides, exhibiting a large numbers of peafowls and peahens looking for the proverbial worm, white breasted kingfishers & Indian rollers on the wire, a solitary grey francolin on the road making a dash to get away from the traffic, a herd of neelgais, a marsh harrier looking for an early breakfast – in all, a good omen for our birding day ahead.

Nalsarovar needs to be explored through a boat and though the water is shallow at most of the places, it is the vastness of the placid lake that is breathtaking. Despite having visited the place about 2 years ago, I was still awestruck with the everlasting wilderness of the glimmering water mingling with the sky at the horizon.

Pic : Ashish

As we set out in the boat, the breeze was wild, soft and free, making the heart light. The early morning serenity of the lake was fading away as birds were waking up to their tasks. The flocks of common coots were having their own version of bird race. Also engaged in various activities were garganeys, spot billed ducks, northern shovellers, pheasant tailed jacanas, godwits, purple moorhens, black-winged stilts, Egrets, Pond herons, Glossy and black Ibis, little grebe, Citrine and yellow wagtails, barn swallows, cormorants and brown headed gulls.

Pic : Ashish

We had set out on this trip however with the hope to see Sarus, Pelicans & Flamingoes from close quarters. Here, since our interest lied in the flock of Pelicans & Flamingoes chiefly, the boatman expertly steered us towards them. The mobile communication technology has helped them too as he was constantly in touch with other boatmen to get the exact location of these birds at the moment. Soon our eyes and cameras feasted on the sights of large flocks of Great White and Rosy Pelicans, followed by Greater Flamingoes.

Pic : Ashish

It was very interesting to see and click pictures of these majestic birds from a different vantage point – almost at their eye level. The most interesting sight was of the greater flamingoes, submerged and floating in knee deep water and their beak giving them a snobbish uppity nose attitude – reminding me, for some reason, of British upper class as caricatured in stories and movies of Wodehouse.

The day had started warming up with the sun at a mid horizon level and having exhausted our camera batteries, we had no option but to return to the shore where rosy starlings and green bee-eaters were busy in their daily routines. Also, we could see a flock of common cranes, which soon took a flight and for sometime the sky was full of cranes and pelicans that were already patrolling in a large flock. A pied kingfisher about to make a dive for its prey, discarded the idea spoiling our chance of clicking it in action.

Pic : Ashish

We left Nalsarovar behind to travel towards Thol, another lake, at about 40 Kms from Ahmedabad and about 60 Kms from Nalsarovar. The lake though much smaller in size is renowned for large variety of birds it provides shelter to. The journey, interrupted for a splendid meal, was peaceful but did not allow us to take a nap as it revealed unexpected sightings – first a male blackbuck with its harem in a field and then a flock of comb ducks – a sight that had eluded us at Nalsarovar.

Pic : Ashish

While Nalsarovar is a never ending sight of water, Thol is a lake much limited and restricted with a bund, also supplying water to the fields around. It is a scenic beauty with woods encircling the lake amidst dreaming the sky. The readers of the Phantom comics could relate to this place immediately as it resembled the Eden that Phantom had developed for the variety of creatures he had saved from extinction. Though lacking in size, it made up in its variety. Birds ranging from common hoopoe, purple sunbirds, prinias, Indian robin and greater coucal to godwits, darter or snake birds, river terns, wigeons, pelicans, flamingoes, bar headed geese, common and ferruginous pochards, greater spotted eagle, marsh harrier, comb ducks, spot billed ducks, tufted ducks, northern pintails, painted storks, common cranes, – all were there. And above all, the prized catch – a few pairs of Sarus cranes lording over the place majestically.

As the sun started inclining towards the horizon, we reluctantly decided to leave the place and drove towards Ahmedabad. But as has been the case most often, the day was yet to finish with its surprises. On our way to Ahmedabad, as we took a turn on the road near a place called Gota, to the left was a small pond where we could see some bird activity. As we got down to have a look, the first sight was a berry tree full of Yellow footed Green Pigeons and a couple of koels. If these were welcome sights, what awaited at the pond was simply magnificent – common teals, river terns, sandpipers, pied avocets, spotbilled ducks, northern shovellers, black-winged stilts, glossy and black ibis and at a distance of few feet away flamingoes – all in plenty. And all of this, just at the outskirts of a city and so close yet totally oblivious to the traffic. For the first time I was engulfed with envy. However, since the setting sun was giving a perfect light condition, it was time to let shutterbugs take charge over my negative emotions and off we were to click more pictures.

Pic : Ashish

Having exhausted ourselves totally by now, we called it a day and returned to Ahmedabad. On our way back, as we tallied our count of almost 100 species, lines from a poem, which I had read some time back but had not really appreciated the beauty till this trip, came back to me -
….ducks on a pond
A grass bank beyond
A blue sky of spring
White clouds on the wing
What a lovely thing
To remember for years!

This post is about a trip that I undertook to visit Nalsarovar & Thol lakes near Ahmedabad for birding & photography. While the “two lakes” part of the title is obvious, a half comes from a small pond – which proved to be a surprise treasure trove for birding.)

This summer we took a long sought after vacation in the hills of Kumaon. The vacation began with a journey on a tramp train & ended again with a tramp train. And the period in between was just a perfect match wherein the mind & body decided to wander around with no known purpose – and why not? Its not always that one gets to explore the absolute green, verdant forest so close to Himalayas.

Its a different story that unlike most of our planned holidays, this one’s planning went for a toss when just a few days before the vacation was to begin, Gurjars of Rajasthan started rail blockade, severing Mumbai from the North. We were lucky to the extent that our train did not get cancelled.

However, travelling in a tramp train, which was scheduled to complete the journey in 16 hours but did it in about 26 hours, has its own share of fun and ordeals. Fortunately for us, the ordeals were lesser than the fun as we crawled through the areas like Chambal Ravines & getting a glimpse of Raj history through distant views of forts of Jhansi & Gwalior.

However, except the beginning & the end of this vacation, the trip had some of the most wonderful moments in our journey through Nainital, Ranikhet & Corbett.

The hills of Kumaon, unlike the hills of Garhwal, are more seductive, with their undulating landscape well covered with trees reaching towards heaven, fruits & flowers in abundance.

And they did succeed by converting an urban person like me into an urban yayawar. So here is me looking forward to being more of an yayawar while you all can get glimpses of some of these moments which I have tried to capture through my camera.