Island – the word evokes memories of childhood classics such as Robinson Crusoe, The Swiss Family Robinson and Treasure Island. These were some of my favourite books and there have been times I have wondered what it would be like to be actually marooned on an island, cut off from the rest of the world. Well, I live on an island (Bombay), but there is no feeling of being cut off from the world – in fact, it is more crowded and noisier than many other cities, and there doesn’t seem to be the remotest chance of my being marooned on some uninhabited island. So much for fantasies……

However, this vacation brought the fantasy as near to fact as it is possible in these days of faster and more efficient methods of communication, when we visited Poovar.

When my husband first suggested Poovar for our annual vacation, I asked him, “Where on earth is that?” So much for my awareness of places in my own country! He told me to look it up on a map, and that is when I realized that it was an island! That is what began my fascination with the place. The fascination grew when I learnt that it wasn’t just an island. There was a river merging with the sea, backwaters galore and the wide open sea all around! Just imagine – this is a place which is an island, set at the mouth of an estuary, with a beach on one side and backwaters on the other, with small lakes all over! This was a place which captured my imagination at once!

We flew down to Trivandrum, my son jumping with excitement at the sight of the vast blue sea and the deep green palm trees welcoming us to God’s own country. We spent a day at Trivandrum, visiting the temples and palace before heading out to Poovar. Instead of hiring a car, we decided to take an auto, a decision which turned to be wise, as our driver kept us regaled with his pronouncements about all the tourists who turned up.

The auto dropped us at the Poovar jetty, from where we took a boat to the Club Mahindra Floating Palms resort, where we had booked rooms. The ride is free for those who have reservations, but I wonder how many people actually turn up at such a remote place without reservations!

The ride to the resort was a wonderful journey, as we passed fishing boats with locals in them, the backwaters lined with cormorants. My son, who is just getting to recognize birds, squealed excitedly as a kingfisher swooped down to catch a fish, and a cormorant turned towards us lazily, perhaps wondering why humans were staring at them and pointing them out to others!

At the resort, we found that we had not been lucky enough to get one of the floating cottages, but the rooms we got were good, built amidst pools of water, and connected by wooden bridges. This again excited my son, who noticed fishes and crabs in the water, and spent most of the day standing on the bridges, looking out for them!

We spent three days at Poovar – three glorious days, when we did nothing but relax. It was hot in the afternoons, but the mornings and evenings were just right for a leisurely walk. The high point of the stay though was the backwater cruise.

The local fishing boat was itself a novelty, but even more were the fabulous sights. Green was obviously the dominant colour, closely followed by blue, but before this trip, I wouldn’t have been able to imagine so many shades of just these two colours! We took a cruise around the island, observing the darker shades of the backwaters as they merged into the lighter shade of the sea, the whole stretch of blue bordered by the green – lush green grasses and palm trees. It was difficult to distinguish between bluish-green and greenish-blue, and I was as excited as my son when we saw a purple heron disappearing into the foliage.

Amongst all these outpourings of nature were a few rude awakenings too, as we realized that this was not the only resort in this place. There were two others, one recently built, catering to the masses of tourists arriving in the peak season, and more were coming up! As we turned back towards home, lingering a while to see the sun set over the horizon, I could not help, but wonder if the place would manage to retain its identity and abundance of natural beauty a few years from now.

The Viceregal Lodge in Shimla was formerly the residence of the British Viceroy, Lord Dufferin.

One of the most beautiful buildings of Shimla, this Victorian-styled structure was designed by the British architect Henry Irwin.

Construction began in 1880 and was completed in 1888. It served as the headquarters of the country during the summer months from March to October.

It was the first government building to have electricity, with an internal wiring system at that. The futuristic architect also made provisions for an elevator to be installed. Most of the upholstery and furniture in the building have been retained for all these years.

The sprawling lawns conceal a rain water harvesting system beneath them, which is being used till date. The lawns and gardens are well-kept and house a vast variety of flora and fauna.

Crucial meetings with Mahatma Gandhi, Jawaharlal Nehru and Mohammed Ali Jinnah were held in this room here during the Indian Independence struggle.

Negotiation papers during the Partition were prepared here, on this very table.

After independence, the building became a part of the estate of the President of India and renamed as ‘Rashtrapati Niwas’.

In 1965, Dr Radhakrishnan established the Indian Institute of Advanced Study here. It is a residential center for research in humanities and social sciences.

The pillars and walls of this building have witnessed events of historical importance. The structure is elegant and regal in every sense and is a must for anyone who visits Shimla.

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.

For some unexplainable reason, when it comes to weekend getaways, we generally go for places that are spoken of most often, visited by people you know or splashed across websites. It’s easier that way. But more often than not, we choose these because we really aren’t aware of the unsung wonders around us. How about exploring for a change? You’ll be amazed at what lies around you.

One such unexplored jewel of Maharashtra is Wai, located at the foothills of the Sahayadri range and on the banks of the River Krishna. A perfect weekend getaway from Mumbai or Nashik, this historical hidden paradise is nestled in Satara and blessed with the famous seven ghats, namely, Gangapuri, Madhi Aali, Ganpati Aali, Dharmapuri, Brahmanshahi, Ramdoh and Bhimkund.

Our impromptu weekend road trip began with five friends, a full tank and ‘where do we go’. Not wanting to go for the usual, we chose the unusually named Wai. I do admit we had no idea what awaited us. Only when we started approaching it did we begin to have some faith in our choice, what with the unending landscapes, towering mountains, fresh breeze and lack of crowd we noticed around. A pleasant surprise for a bunch of people wanting to get away from the hustle-bustle of city life.

Mini breaks en route, dhabba binging and chatting with the locals kept the drive interesting. A word of advice; if you’re visiting a place for the first time, reach during daylight and book in advance. We made a mistake by doing neither. Reached at 8 pm so couldn’t see much and didn’t book assuming getting a room would be easy. The two resorts we came across were booked, that too in the sweltering month of May. Luckily, the owner of Anandvan Resort, probably feeling sorry for a bunch of tired and hungry youngsters, handed over the last two rooms available; connecting rooms with bunk beds! Took me back to my hostel days. The rooms were simple, clean, comfortable and dinner, unexpectedly delectable. Spicy chicken curry, thin and hot chappatis, dal, rice, Maharashtrian style vegetables, fried papads, raita and chaas. All we wanted after that was a good night’s sleep.

For the first time in months I woke up at 6 am. Not with the shrill sound of an alarm clock, but as promised by our waiter, to the soothing sound of twittering birds. That’s when I got a good glimpse of Wai. Our resort overlooked a big lake nearby, mountains in the background and green valleys. Located in the heart of nature, here, you can either enjoy the peace and tranquility or experience the various activities on offer – trekking, boating and exploring the surrounding villages. It wasn’t long before the rest joined me and the day was chalked out over cups of steaming hot kadak chai. “If you love exploring nature, this is the perfect place for you”, we were told. Well, more than happy to explore, we set off.

Narrow winding roads through the ghats led us downhill, to Boat Club near the lake. Our jaws dropped at the picturesque beauty in front of us. Picture this; clear blue skies and still waters as far as your eye can see, surrounded by towering mountains on all three sides. No words or picture can do justice. You have to see it to believe that somewhere in the remote villages of Satara is a place like this. Swans strolled by, oblivious to any human presence. The area turns into a campsite at night with tents, barbecue and bonfires organized by the owners of Anandvan.

Even though the sun was beating down on us, we thoroughly enjoyed a leisure boat ride. The water baby that I am, my desire to jump in for a swim was cautioned by the boatman with a “Madame mat!! Hame pata nahi kaunse jeev hain paani mein par kuch bhi ho sakta hai. Aap please idhar nahi, swimming pool mein swim kariye.” My embarrassment at the chiding was pretty evident, much to my friends’ amusement.
Once back on land, a couple of huts at a distance caught our eye and curiosity got the better of us. As we got closer to the piles and piles of dried fish and houses made of blue plastic raised and held with the help of sticks and stones, a little girl approached us apprehensively. A family of seven lived here along the banks of the lake: a couple with their five kids. They caught and dried fish and then walked miles to sell them in the village. What did they eat? Fish of course.

Initially shy, the little girl and her siblings took to us after seeing our cameras. Rajesh, all of 11 and the eldest, enthusiastically gave me a guided tour of the patch of land they lived on. The pride on his face as he told me the entire patch was theirs and they could do what they pleased with no one to bother them was priceless. It was heartening to see how content this family was with whatever little they had. What I wouldn’t give to have a home in a location like theirs!
After a round of chai made by their mother, we set off to what we were really looking for; Dhom dam in the quaint village of Jor. Fifteen minutes of driving and we were there, being gawked at by the inhabitants of Jor. I guess not many ‘city people’ visit the village so the sight of a car going through their narrow lanes seemed some what surprising to them. Nevertheless, they were extremely sweet and simple people, eager to help and guide us to the dam. We came across quite a few of the famous temples we had heard of in and around the village. From a distance Dhom dam looks like a huge slab of blackish grey cement. On nearing it, you realize just how tall and wide it is.

Driving our car over the dam, along the length offered us a breathtaking view of the river far below and the rolling valley and hills around. If only time would stand still. If only city air was as fresh as this. If only Mumbai was as silent as this. We sat there, on top of (probably) a 20ft high dam, soaking in all the good things of life. I don’t know for how long we were there but it felt like forever.
The drive down led us to a small lake tucked away behind the trees. It was no pool but we had to take a dip. Swimming in the fresh freezing water felt divine. It’s only when the sun began to set did we drag ourselves int the car and headed back. The drive was predominantly silent. I guess each one was reliving the last two days in their head, amazed at our discovery, thinking about the silence, the beauty, and the tranquility of Wai. If you like places with character and spending a weekend doing almost nothing, if you are an explorer, a visit to Wai is a must. Because nothing you read can possibly sum up the novelty of this haven.
MUST VISIT AROUND WAI:
- Maha Ganpati: The tallest and biggest of all temples in Wai.
- Mandhardevi Mandir: Located on top of Shambhu-Mahadeo mountain ranges, from here one can enjoy the majestic beauty of the mountains, valleys, Dhom dam, Panchgani and Mahabaleshwar.
- Wakeshwar Temple: 2 km. from Wai, it’s by the riverside and surrounded by trees.
- Menavali: A beautiful ghat built on the river banks, it’s a favourite for film shoots.
- Dhom & Balkawadi dam: The dam backwaters spread over 25 kms. up to the foothills of Mahabaleshwar.
- Jambhali Jungle: At the foothills of Mahabaleshwar, it’s a site for many birds and animals.
- Velang (Campsite): A great place to enjoy trekking, star-gazing and other activities.

It has been a long long time and it is almost nostalgic . This is about Goa and Anindya and I went to Chapora Fort, which is also called the ‘Dil Chahta Hai’ fort.
” The heart is a bloom,
Shoots up through the stony ground…”
These lines are form U2’s immortal song, ‘The Beautiful Day’ and what a day it was!! Walk up the slopes,towards the remnants of the fort and you see the sea extend till the horizon. The lush greenery around made the steep slope inviting and you forget how tired you are. You just stride towards the gate,absorbing the ethereal beauty around you, wondering at the might of the nature and its forces.

You reach the gate, you get inside and suddenly the word ‘ruin’ no longer remains an analogy of destruction. The elements have worked on man’s creation like a sculptor and created an object which only keeps on improving with time.

You start moving towards the battlements and you have one of the most beautiful horizons greeting you. Right in front of you lies the infinite sea,with the sun playing hide and seek with the clouds. On the right side a river flowed towards the multitude,meeting it in a congregation of waves, symmetrically etched out on the blue-grey surface. All this was accompanied by the howl of winds blowing high and mighty. It was almost as if nature was telling man,” look, I can be the conductor and the painter at the same time!” Sitting on the battlements, spellbound by the magnificence around, you just get to realise how insignificant you are in the scheme of the cosmos. Man cribs, complains and struggles through life when all around him is the cogency of his father, provided to relieve him of all this. That day, two friends in the midst of a wonderful spectacle came very close to realizing this.

“What you don’t have you don’t need it now
What you don’t know you can feel it somehow
What you don’t have you don’t need it now
Don’t need it now
Was a beautiful day ”

They say you should save hyperbole for when you really need it. I say, travel writers should save their odes till they reach their paradise on earth. I have found mine. Only that it was not a picture postcard scenery with pretty hills, crystal blue lakes and lush green fields. On the contrary, the entire setting had a rather austere and harsh aura about it. Guidebooks alternatively describe it as “surreal”, a “lunar landscape” or a “fantasy land”. My first impression was, to put it very crudely, that of a crumpled up cloth, in shades of yellow, streaked in pink and white.

We have reached Cappadocia, “the land of beautiful horses”. It earlier referred to an extensive inland district of Asia Minor and now roughly corresponds to the area in and around Nevehir province in Anatolia, Central Turkey. The lyrical topography was created by volcanic eruptions about ten million years ago when the land mixed with lava, ash and mud, called tufa, was molded by the elements. With thousand of years of rugged winds and rains constantly eroding away the tufa, what remains are towers closely resembling gigantic circumcised phalluses, (referred to in more polite circles as “fairy chimneys”) that dominate the scenery. Cliff walls of the valleys are dotted with gaping holes which could be centuries old dwellings or chapels or even not-so-old pigeon lofts. Nobody knew who the original inhabitants of the place were or who first hollowed out the shelters in the soft rock. When a window suddenly opens from one of the occupied caves and a face peers out, you suddenly might get the feeling of having sauntered over to the homes of elves and gnomes.

I was even more thrilled as instead of checking into a pension, Turkish low budget hotels, I had booked into a cave hotel. But this was no ordinary cave hotel. For a change the backpacker in me, always looking for a cheap deal, took a back step and I decided to go all out and splurge. To be very honest this hotel, which I first saw in an email sent by a friend, was what pulled me to Turkey in the first place. As the car came to a stop in front of a rocky hill, I looked up at the dramatic and soaring structure, and I knew I had made the correct choice. The pictures on the mail could not do justice to this breathtaking view of the hotel- Yunak Evleri.

Carved into a mountain cliff in the ancient village of Urgup, the hotel includes eight cave houses all dating back to the 5th and the 6th century .A separate 19th century Greek mansion set on the base of the hill was bought by the owner, Yusuf Gorurgoz from a local Cappadocian family and now houses the reception, private dining hall,reading room and the lobby. An ex- Istanbul native, Gorurgoz realized that Cappadocia was fast changing from being a backpacker’s destination to becoming the ultimate city for troglodytes wishing to swim in the lap of luxury. Though the idea of buying crumbled hovels for a song and converting them to perfect idyllic retreat was not entirely new, Yunak Evleri, along with a couple of other hotels managed to set high standards for luxury living in this desolate terrain. The Greek mansion, renovated to keep the original style, was packed with antiques and some beautiful hand-crafted furnishings.

As the manager, Abdullah, a nattily dressed old gentleman, showed us around the place, I took in the smell and sights of the hotel -all reminiscent of a bygone era. Old plump peasant ladies doing laundry the old fashioned way, the smell of freshly baked bread, the quaint hand pump, the sepia tinted family photographs. I felt as if any moment someone would turn on the gramophone and the air would be filled with the lilting voice of Dooney Wilson crooning the famous Casablanca number “As time goes by”. The rotary dial phone seemed less like a show piece and fit in perfectly next to the transistor which I expected to crackle with news of the World War II.

In a stone house across, was the breakfast hall with an adjoining kitchen and a larder well stocked with local fare all produced within the village – succulent tomatoes, fresh orange juice, feta cheese and marmalades.

Yunak Evleri definitely prides itself as a private exclusive romantic retreat. To reach to your cave you had to navigate through a labyrinth of narrow passageways and curved stone stairways. This was because all the rooms were spread across the gigantic cliff and had their own private patios overlooking the Turkish mesa.

Until I stepped into my room here, the only way I could describe caves were dark, spooky and damp holes filled with bats. My cave, on the other hand, had dark hardwood floors, creamy whitewashed walls, old kilim carpets and handcrafts, writing desk, and a rocking chair all decorated in warm ottoman style. And not just a functional bathroom but a spacious marble one, fitted with a Jacuzzi. The carefully chosen lightning lent a romantic air to the cave.

The planter’s chair on my terrace gave me an uninterrupted stunning view and I resolved to stay here for the rest of my stay in Turkey. But then there was the so much more to explore.

Time seemed to have stood still in the sleepy small town of Urgup, where three left turns take you back to square one. As I walked down the streets I noticed that all shops, restaurants and houses were built of the same material and hence the town had the monochromatic yellowish tinge. Urgup managed to strike a balance between preserving its Anatolian traditions and cultivating an unobtrusive yet irresistible tourist infrastructure.

Not everyone in Cappadocia was lucky enough to get a cave with a view. I discovered that on my next day’s tour to Kaymakli. While the idea of pre historic people seeking shelter in caves is not entirely unique, what struck me was the sheer magnitude involved here. Within the entire region of Cappadocia over two hundred underground cities have been discovered and forty of these had atleast four levels or more. As a largely barren and desolate area, central Cappadocia was bypassed by many armies making it the ideal refuge for early Christians who built these underground cities to take shelter from the oppression of the Roman soldiers. These hideouts were again used after 6th century to escape from the Arab armies. The entry to every secret underground passageway was camouflaged by a circular keystone, which once closed could only be opened from inside.
As I crouched down the passageways, which now are well lit, I could not help but wonder at the tenacity of those people who have had to stay in these dark environs for months at stretch. The air shafts which allowed for ventilation were a sheer engineering feat. The underground city of Kaymakli could at one time accommodate upto 15000 people and was complete with kitchens, stables and even a grape press to make wine.
On the way to the Goreme, we stopped at Guray Comlekcilik, a family owned pottery in Avanos .Avanos has a history of pottery making that dates back to the Hittite times. I tried my hand at the Potters wheel, and if you happen to visit that place and spot a ceramic plate, shaped more like the map of Australia, you know who the artist is.
Goreme Open Air Museum is a monastic complex composed of churches, rectories and dwellings. This is where the early Christians preachers spread the message of Christ far away from religious persecutors. The frescoes in the church depict narrations from the Bible including the Last Supper, Adoration of the Magi and the Nativity Scene. As the frescoes continue to chip off the cave walls, it reveals a layer of earlier paintings underneath. While the later day paintings were colorful, the earlier ones used only red dye and were more simplistic. During the Iconoclastic period many of the frescoes and paintings were damaged while the eyes of the images were scratched out by the local Turkish population scared of the evil eye.

All over the panoramic view of Cappadocia, one can see, on closer inspection, niches carved into the soft tufa. Expecting another tale of blood and gore behind these mysterious carvings, I was a bit let down when I learnt that they were pigeon lofts, painted white to attract the birds, and built to collect pigeon droppings, an excellent source of fertilizer. On the way back we stopped at Uchisar, which must have had one of the greatest collections of pigeon lofts in the world and hence given the name Pigeon Valley. They were carved wherever space allowed including abandoned caves and the walls of collapsed churches.
In Cappadocia it is difficult to get a bad hike when you are surrounded by such spectacular scenery. I picked the Red Valley hike. It was like walking through an open air structure chiseled by Mother Nature. We saw the fairy’s chimneys at close quarters, walked over pink and yellow earth which changed colors as the day progressed. As the sun set down over the horizon and painted the sky hues of blue and orange, the colors getting reflected in the valley below, I knew I will be back to my Eden again.

I spent an unexpected four days in Shimla this September. I ventured into the northern parts of the country for the first time. I saw the capital city for the first time. I saw the Himalayas and snow-capped peaks for the first time. Here’s how it happened.

Club Mahindra announced a travelogue contest called ‘My Trip of a Lifetime’. The link was passed around quite a bit on Twitter and Facebook and managed to grab my attention on the last day of the contest. I sent in my write up of the Valparai trip along with the pictures I took there. Going by the track record of how my luck has fared in contests like these, I conveniently forgot about it until the results came out. I was pleasantly surprised and deliriously happy of course! This meant more travel, more photography and meeting more people. It also meant that I had to convince my manager to let me go for a full work week.

Luck still played along as I worked out my leaves and headed out on this journey. Also traveling from Bangalore were contest judges Lakshmi Sharath, a travel writer and Arun Bhat, a photographer and travel writer. The other two winners, Kanchuki and Kongkona joined us in the Delhi airport. Three other judges, Cdr. Satyabrata Dam, a renowned mountaineer, Arun Nair, the editor of Clay and Kiruba Shankar, a blogger and columnist joined us in the Delhi bus station where we boarded an overnight bus to Shimla.

The Club Mahindra Whispering Pines Gables resort is located on top of a vantage point with a lush view of the valley in Mashobra, 15 kms from Shimla. The sunrise that greeted us on the first morning there made sure that I woke up at 5.30 every chilly cold morning just to catch a glimpse of it. And shoot tons of pictures. And look for incredibly tiny, beautiful birds making merry in the golden light. And drool over the mesmerizing view.

This trip also turned out to be one where I ate. A lot. Starting from the delicious and mouth watering breakfast spread, proceeding to lunch and a scrumptious dinner, I only ate, ate and ate. The sous chef Vikas personally ensured that we were being over-fed and his able group of stewards never let a plate go empty or a cup run dry.

I particularly recall Balwinder, who was omnipresent. You just had to look up from your plate and he would appear out of nowhere, offering you more food. The resort manager Monish pulled all strings to ensure that our stay went well. Overnight camping trips, hosted dinners, barbeque in the lawn, packed breakfast boxes for an early morning outing, he took care of everything.
When I took breaks from eating, I did travel around Shimla. The group went to Kasauli the second day. A quiet little town, other than the customary mandir and market, there’s nothing else to do or see. The third day took us to Chail, which more than made up for the first day. Chail is a quaint little town with a very old-world charm, partly because there is a ban on new constructions. Long walks in the amazing weather, lunch at the Chail palace, some lovely bird sightings (Eurasian Jay in particular) and walking around the highest cricket ground in the world .. we did it all. We camped out one night. When sweaters, rugs and sleeping bags didn’t give any respite from the biting cold winds, we turned to raucous singing well into the wee morning hours. Tributes to Hemant Kumar, Rafi, Kishore and Lata ended with a grand finale of Govinda’s ‘Tujhe mirchi lagi to main kya karoo.’

We trekked back to the resort through the hills in the morning and met an old shepherd who sat with his sheep and a dog in a beautiful meadow. In the evenings we walked up and down the Mall road, eating corn and kulfi and also made a couple of trips to India Coffee House.

The return day journey from Shimla to Delhi gave me a first hand experience of road-travel up north. The lush landscapes of Punjab, massive highways, the lovely city of Chandigarh and New Delhi of course. I am yet to see a city as massive and well-planned as Delhi. The infrastructure took me by surprise and I inevitably kept comparing it to Bangalore.

So, this is how one trip led to another. The best memories of this trip will no doubt be the breathtaking landscapes of the Himalayas. However, I will mostly remember this trip for the people I met and spent time with.
The journey continues. Till we meet again…

I wanted to begin the new year by indulging in my passions of travel and photography and did just last month. We drove down to Karde from Mumbai for a rejuvenating beginning to the new year and spent a couple of days gorging on sea food and gorgeous sunrises and sunsets!
We set out from home at 0630hrs on the first day of 2010 and got on to NH17. Had an idli dosa breakfast at Kamaths in Mahad and moved on to Khed from where we take the turn for Dapoli and onwards to Karde where we had booked a room in Hotel Kinara.
We finally reached the hotel at 1230hrs after covering a distance of 290kms. Our lunch order was confirmed on the phone by the hotel a day earlier. This is the practice followed by all the hotels in the area hence you cannot just walk in and expect to be served. The meal order has to be placed at least a couple of hours in advance.
The fish thali and the veg thali were delicious. We got back to the room and rested awhile before proceeding to Harnai beach to witness the fish auction.

Harnai beach is around 8kms away and we reached there via a treacherous path by car. The boats had come in and the auction was on in full swing.
What struck us was the way the fish was transported from the boats to the shore. The boats cannot come in right up to the shore due to shallow waters and hence bullock carts take sacks of ice to the boats, offload the fish onto the ice in plastic crates and cart it ashore!

Spent nearly an hour there, watching and clicking all the activity, after which we returned back to our Hotel to watch the sun go down that created a magical ambiance with paragliding activity on the beach.
Had an awesome dinner of, yes, fish! Retired early for the day as had to get up early to go for the ‘dolphin viewing’ boat ride at dawn.
The motor boat puttered in on time, and we, along with 8 other tourists, were helped aboard by the crew. And on we went in search of the elusive dolphins.
Managed to spot a few in the half hour ride that cost us only Rs.100/- per head.
The sunrise witnessed from the ocean was awesome!
Back to the hotel, had ‘kanda pohey’ for breakfast and got ready to visit the ‘Kadyavarcha Ganapati’ which is around 20kms from the hotel at Anjarle.

This idol is believed to have come ashore Anjarle from the sea and was installed on the cliff using wooden pillars in around 1150. Later it was renovated during 1768 to 1780. The Ganesh idol’s trunk is curved towards the right, which is very rare. Kadyavarcha Ganapati is also considered as the live deity (a jagrut daiwat) who responds to distress calls of common people (nawsala pavnara Ganapati).The dome of this temple has the ‘Ashtavinayak Ganeshas’ embedded on it.
We sat there awhile and returned back to the hotel for yet another excellent meal of fishfried and curried and ‘vaalaach beerd’.We spent the evening walking along the beach, watching a glorious sunset.
For dinner that night had an unusual prawn biryani. It was a Malwani flavoured biryani and absolutely yummy! And of course every meal was accompanied by delicious solkadi.
We got up early on the final morning at Karde as we wanted to take in as much as possible of the ambiance of a lovely morning on the beach.

We went for a long walk on the beach and around 0930hrs set out on the return journey to Mumbai. But had a stop scheduled on the way. There was this beautiful old temple at Murud Harnai which is just about 2kms from Karde.

Murud is also the hometown of our great freedom fighter Bharat Ratna Maharshi Dhondu Karve whose bust is erected opposite the Durga Devi temple.This Durga Devi temple was built almost 300yrs back and the pujari affirmed that his was the 6th generation looking after the temple. The carved wooden pillars in the temple are beautiful.There is a large bell at the entrance of the temple. The temple poojary told us that it was brought by Chimaji Appa after winning over the Vasai fort, from one of the churches there.

We finally had our breakfast at Dapoli and returned to Mumbai via Mandangad covering a distance of 249kms. The roads were largely good and the traffic minimal. We reached Mumbai at 1630hrs after a magical holiday at Karde.

Getting there
By Train

Mumbai – Karde
• Mumbai – Khed Station (via Konkan Railway)
• Khed Station – Dapoli (29 km) (via private transport – jeeps, etc. / state transport – ST buses)
Dapoli – Karde (20kms) (via private transport – jeeps, etc. / state transport – ST buses)
By Road
Mumbai – Karde
290kms Route Mumbai – Panvel – Mahad –Khed – Dapoli – Karde (Mumbai –Khed NH17)
250kms Route Mumbai – Panvel – Mangaon – Mandangad – Dapoli – Karde (Mumbai – Mangaon NH17)

The rolling hills and silver oaks invited us to visit them at Panchgani. We had heard a lot about the breathtaking view from every corner of Panchgani and were intrigued. So finally, we decided to make the trip in December 2009. Yes! My mother and I are just back from the cozy town of Panchgani.

Panchgani is around 21 kms (30 mins) before the other more popular and populated sister hill station, Mahabaleshwar. It is in the state of Maharashtra, India and an ideal place for a quick getaway. The travel agents tried very hard persuading us to go to Mahabaleshwar instead but we were firm on our decision.

We set out on a sultry Friday night from Mumbai by the 10:30 pm bus. The bus set off on its 6 hour journey to Panchgani where we arrived at 6 am. It was pitch dark and freezing cold. As soon as we stepped off the bus, we were surrounded by taxi drivers wanting to drive us down to the hotel. Drive!!! Are the hotels so far away?!! These are the thoughts which might come to the minds of my readers.

You see I had done a lot of research before booking our room. There are several hotels in Panchgani. Some are 2.5 km away from the Market. Some are at a walk of 15 mins away (without being loaded down with luggage and bags!!!).

I asked them for directions to our hotel and we were told that it was within walkable distance down the road. I had already enquired at the Front Desk before booking and was informed that it was around 2 mins away from where the bus stops. So we were prepared for a little walk. We hoisted up our bags and moved ahead, trying our best to get our bearings and did realize that the bus had dropped us off on the main market street and had carried on straight ahead to Mahabaleshwar.

We asked for directions at a roadside tea stall where the owner was brewing steaming hot tea. Since it was all dark, the landmark given to us was the streetlamp and Mala’s outlet and we turned right from there down a sloping road and were soon at our hotel. We were met by a closed door and sleepy hotel staff wrapped up in their blankets; one of which got up and handed us the room key. Once we got there, we put down our bags and stretched out our tired selves on the warm, cozy and comfortable bed and were soon fast asleep.

Day 1 : We were woken up at 8:30 am by the doorbell. It was a kind staff member informing us that hot water would be available only till 10 am. So we went about our ablutions and called room service for breakfast consisting of buttered toast, scrambled eggs and tea. The bill totaled Rs 300 for 3 days breakfast.

Now that we were fully awake (as my mother said later, the 2 hrs sleep did us good!!), we drew aside the window curtain and took in the beautiful view of the hills covered in mist right outside our picture window. The considerate hotel manager had given us a room on the topmost floor. There were 2 schools in front of the hotel. Panchgani is known for its vast number of prestigious boarding schools.

The sun was shining brightly but I noticed a lot of people walking around wrapped in shawls or cardigans. The hotel was in a quiet lane.

Once done with breakfast, we moved out of our hotel and walked up to the top of the slope, to the Main Road/market street/shopping area. We decided to walk around the place and discover its nooks and crannies. We saw the well-known Vidya Niketan Co-educational School just opposite our lane. This is where we met our bus, 3 days later, back to Mumbai.

Now that we were at the market street, we decided to walk up and down. We walked up first, in the direction, towards the place we stepped off the bus from Mumbai. The shops were open and there were plenty of shops. Oh my!!

We saw a shop selling pure honey , fruit punches, chana (white chickpea), juices, squashes, sweets, groceries, hardware, home essentials, stores, vegetable market, fresh stock etc. etc. There was even a Cottage Industries Emporium selling hand crafted Kashmiri items and clothing where we shopped in the evening, at the circle where the bus stops. A husband and wife run the shop which deals in silks, pashmina’s, silk embroideries, shawls, carpets, leather goods, wood carving, jewellery, paper machie, dress materials. It is situated on the Main Road. Cell: 09890590546, 02168-241722. The owner, Mr. Tariq was very helpful when my mother bought a whole lot of cardigans and shawls for herself and her sisters. He also has a wonderful stock of Indian wear and men’s pullovers, winter jackets etc. along with Kashmiri handicrafts. And, if I may say so, he serves very nice tea to selective customers. This being my mother’s declaration!!

As we walked down the Main Road or market road, we came across a garden, a Mapro factory outlet and passed by the lane leading to Hotel Prospect, IL Palazzo. I had visited the website of these 2 hotels and was keen on seeing them for real. Hotel Prospect was the first hotel in Panchgani, built in 1912, run by a Parsi family. It is a good 15 mins walk away from the Main Road, secluded inside a quiet, winding lane. We stepped through the huge, wrought iron gates kept wide open onto the flower lined driveway. We met the jovial elderly gentlemen owning the hotel along the way. He was on a short mid morning walk and welcomed us in and asked us to explore the property. We did peep in but didn’t go upto the office as all the details were on their website.

It was lunchtime soon and we were hungry walking around. The mountain air added to it all. There is a shopping centre close to the post office which has around 3 or 4 restaurants. Lunch was at the canopy covered courtyard of the Red Sea restaurant (pix at the end of post).

As soon as we stepped out of this open air restaurant, we came across an old man selling slippers in various colours for Rs 100 each. I bought 3 pairs in mauve, pink and dark blue. They were so comfortable to wear. I request all my readers to patronize this old man who makes the slippers at home.

We had a short nap after lunch. Our hotel manager told us that a sight seeing tour of Panchgani tourist spots would cost us Rs 350 and take around 3 hours, beginning at 3 pm..
So we met the cabbie below at around 3 pm which took us first to Sydney Point, close to Hotel Ravine. There is a breathtaking view of the surrounding hills and the Krishna river flowing in between, at the foot of the hills.

The next stop was the Tableland which is the second highest plateau in Asia, the highest being the Tibetan plateau. The Tableland has a circumference of 6 ½ km and takes around an hour to cover by the horse buggy/carriage or by foot. We did it by foot to where the horses take the tourists to view the surrounding landscape. The tableland is at a walkable distance of 20 – 30 mins from the Main Road, past Mr. Tariq’s shop, up the slope towards the St. Joseph’s school.

The next stop was Parsi Point and then back to our room till we stepped out for dinner and a little shopping at the Mala’s outlet close to our lane. They sell the most amazing fresh jams, squashes, syrups, fruit chews, cordials etc.

The shop selling honey, also stocks cashews, chikki, and the most tasty and delightful chocolate-walnut fudge (Rs 120 for a 250 gm box). I recommend all to try it. We did buy some strawberry and choco-walnut fudge in Mahabaleshwar but it wasn’t as nice as this.

Day 2: We decided to make a day trip to Mahabaleshwar considering it being a short distance of 21 kms or 30 mins away by bus. We made all the enquiries the previous day. The bus depot is on the Main Road and Mr. Tariq advised us to take the “green luxury” bus which passes by every hour through Panchgani on the way to Mahabaleshwar. The tickets are Rs. 18 per person.

So, soon after a hearty breakfast, we set off to the bus depot and waited for the “green” bus! We discovered that there are local State Transport “red” buses every 15 mins to Mahabaleshwar but opted to take the green bus as I suffer from hill road sickness.

The bus came around 11:20 am and after a short halt of 5 mins, set off. We arrived at the Mahabaleshwar bus depot at around noon. The bus depot is opposite the petrol station. We have been to Mahabaleshwar twice before and are familiar with the place. So we strolled down the market place and shopping area lined with shops crowded with tourists and touristy things. It is a highly populated and busy place. We did visit all the shops though as the colourful, attractive displays pulled us in. Lunch was at Nukkad Restaurant close to the church.
Tip: They do have a washroom in the premises which was a welcome relief.

Dessert was at Strawberry Den in the market place which dishes out the most amazing Strawberry and Cream for Rs 60. It has loads of strawberries, cream and ice-cream. This is the most popular place.

My advice to all fellow travel sickness passengers who suffer from this discomfort would be to have lunch as soon as you get to Mahabaleshwar, i.e. if you are traveling up from Panchgani and have to return in a few hours. You can do your shopping after lunch, the walk and after lunch duration helps digestion and you will be able to make the journey back by bus.

We arrived at 12 noon but I made the mistake of having lunch around 1:30 and we were done by 2:15. We had already seen everything and visited all the shops; did our shopping. There was nothing much left to do after lunch and we would have to while away our time for atleast 2 hrs. before I could hop onto a bus. That was too much time to kill. We did walk around for around half an hour but how much more?! So we returned to the bus depot to see if I could make it back by bus. There was a ST bus about to leave and we stepped in. I felt squeamish as soon as I set foot in so I retreated. The “green” bus would come only after an hour, so we asked around for a taxi to Panchgani. There is a taxi stand just outside the bus depot. We were already aware of the charges of Rs 350 to Panchgani/Mahabaleshwar, one way. We didn’t have a choice. My mother was tired already, I was feeling unwell and so we hopped into the cab and sped away to Panchgani. The cabbie did tell us that a trip to from Mahabaleshwar to Panchgani and back would cost us Rs 425. He dropped us outside our hotel in 25-30 mins. We were exhausted and took a nice long nap till evening. Dinner was at the same restaurant.

Day 3: Mr. Tariq had told us about Sherbaug and we had seen it advertised everywhere. He told us that it was a nature theme park and that we would find it quite interesting. So we set out soon after breakfast and decided to walk down to Sherbaug. We left the market road, past Hotel Ravine, Hotel Mount View, and Hotel Mount Castle etc. The entrance fee is Rs 300 per person and Rs 50 for a camera. The entrance has a jungle theme to it with an artificial blue stream of water continuously flowing. The entire park has a quaintness about it with winding pathways where people can walk in single file, through archways, past waterfalls, gardens, flower beds, horticultural spaces, all along guided by signpost saying “This Way Please”, otherwise one can just lose oneself in this labyrinth. You suddenly cross a wooden bridge to come across an Art Gallery where Mr. Tariq has his other shop. It was a surprise for us too. I did buy a Kashmiri embroidered short tunic in white from there. There is a restaurant close by; food cooked by local housewives and served by students in a village style ambience. Next to this is the dinosaur cave and the cave of ghosts. I cannot describe any of this as we didn’t venture in. We did stop for a chilled glass of “Maaza” and then carried on. Too soon we reached the exit and left the theme park walking past a blue stream of flowing water. We walked back to our favourite restaurant for lunch at around 2 pm and then a short nap at the hotel till evening tea.

Dinner was light and ended with a glass of hot chocolate.

We had to meet the bus back to Mumbai outside the Vidya Niketan School at 9:30 am. The bus begins at Mahabaleshwar. I had my breakfast around 8:30 am and we boarded the bus at 10 am which was a wise decision since I was the only lady who was not “sick” in the bus. The other passengers had boarded the bus at Mahabaleshwar and a little out of Panchgani the bus had to stop for all the “sick” passengers. I faced the same ordeal on the 2 earlier occasions when we were traveling down from Mahabaleshwar.

We were back home by 4:30 am.

My mother and I were both heartbroken when we left Panchgani and wanted to linger on and on. There is a kind of calm and peace still there, free from tourists (of course we made the trip just before the season time begins around Dec 20th). Unlike Mahabaleshwar where one has to travel to be with nature, Panchgani offers the regular tourist a chance to be with nature anywhere in the town itself.

HOTELS – http://www.mahabaleshwar.com/
Hotel Summer Palace, Tel: 02168 – 240523, 240538 – Entrance view, our room pix – For other information – http://www.panchgani-sheeshmahel.com/
SHERBAUG pix – http://www.sherbaug.com/sherbaug/sherbaugintro/ , http://www.sherbaug.com/sherbaug/sherbaugliving/
MALA’s – http://www.malasfruit.com/

Legend goes that when Babar was scouting for routes to find an easy way to cross the Hindu Kush mountains over to India, a wise man suggested that he follow the tracks of the Indian Wild Ass, which in those days roamed all over North West India, Pakistan and Iran. When my guide DevjiBhai, saw the incredulous look on my face as he narrated this story, he simply said “Come with me for a safari. Not many can survive such tough conditions.”

A couple of hours later, as we rode over the bleak and barren landscape, flat as a pancake, the sun beating down on us, the salt laden winds cutting across ,DevjiBhai ‘s words kept ringing in my ears. After countless trips to the salubrious mountains, here I am on a battered jeep, driving through, what for me, was one of the most inhospitable and unwelcoming of all terrains- Little Rann of Kutch.

I couldn’t have asked for a better guide for my stay in Rann. DevjiBhai Dhamecha, a local from Dhanghadra, one of the few villages dotting the border of the sanctuary, started out as an amateur photographer, chronicling life in the sanctuary. Over the years he became the voice of Little Rann, and protecting the sanctuary has since been his sole ambition in life. We stayed at DevjiBhai‘s Kooba huts, circular mud huts with conical roofs, built on the style of Banjania tribes of Northern Gujarat.

The Rann of Kutch is a vast saline wasteland of around 30,000 sq kms, between the Gulf of Kutch and the Indus in Pakistan and is the largest declared biosphere in India. This inhospitable terrain is an effective deterrent for illegal immigrants – a wrong turn in this endless desert could indeed prove fatal. This vast expanse was once an extension of the Arabian Sea, but centuries of silting have turned it into an extensive mudflat, inundated during the monsoons, salty and cracked in the other seasons. The Rann (salt marshes in Hindi), was a navigable lake during the time of Alexander.

Surprisingly enough, the Rann has five distinct wetlands which are a rich habitat for a wide range of water and terrestrial birds including the famed flamingoes. We took the highway which ran alongside the sanctuary to a marshy area where DevjiBhai assured me I would still be able to see a few of those remaining migratory birds – given that it is almost summer now and they have flown back to cooler climes.

I expected to spot a few desultory birds, and was pleasantly surprised to see rows and rows of birds, carpeting the entire marsh – a colorful tapestry of the white Demoiselle Cranes, the Pink flamingoes and red-wattled Lapwing, interspersed with the Little Cormorant, Pelicans, Lesser Flamingoes, Herons and Egrets. In the winters, I can only imagine this place turning into a bird lover’s paradise.

Trying to get a better shot of the birds, I waded through the black mud as quietly as I could. My foot slipped and I was unsteady for a moment. Enough to alert the birds and I witnessed the magnificent sight where the entire lot took to the air en masse, and the only sound I heard was the distinct flapping of a thousand pairs of wings.

On the way back to the Kooba huts, we were lucky enough to cross a group of Maldharis, as they were packing up for the next leg of their journey. The Maldharis are nomadic herdsmen who migrate annually after the winters from Kutch and Saurashtra to Madhya Pradesh. From their long black headscarves and magical symbols tattooed on the arms, we were told that they were the Rabaris, believed to be descendants of the Huns who invaded India in the 5th century. The women were tall and well built and clearly very business savvy as they demanded 300 rupees before I could even take off the lens cover from my camera!

The next day’s safari, far inside the sanctuary, transported me to a different panorama altogether. In a landscape where nothingness defined everything, it was DevjiBhai’s experience that guided us around the flat land and a bare horizon broken only by the occasional salt pan or sometimes a bet (plateau or elevated island).

The only other tire tracks we saw were that of salt trucks. Gujarat is the largest salt producer in India and a third of it comes from the salt pans of Rann. And due credit must be given to the hardy Agarias, the traditional salt workers, who battle hard conditions ,camping in the midst of the desert to eke out a living from the salt pans.

It is important for the water to keep flowing through the salt pan without interruption so that salt crystals are formed properly-which makes it imperative for the Agarias to pitch tents with family, in the summer heat. As the summer heat intensifies, the salt in the blistered earth is transformed into a radiant dazzling whiteness “Even after an Agaria is cremated, the soles of his feet remain intact “, rues DevjiBhai who himself hails from a family of salt workers. “Years of toiling bare feet in the salt pans harden their skin to the extent that even fire cannot burn it.”

I was prepared to see mirages in the desert, of course, but that still did not bar me from making the classic blooper, the first time I spotted a ‘lake’ far off in the horizon. In my defense, I actually thought it was an artificial water body constructed by the salt workers. A few moments later I saw a couple of trucks hovering above the shimmering reflection and I was finally convinced that it was a mirage after all.

As we moved away from the salt pans, the hard cracked earth gave way to the softer sand of the deserts, where we drove across herds of the chestnut brown Wild Asses (Equus Hemionus Khur).Locally known as the Ghud Khur, it is one of the sturdiest animals able to withstand the desert heat and survive on scrubby grass and food of prosopsis- the few saline resistant plants that can grow here. The Rann is the home of the last surviving Asiatic Wild Asses and along with the Blue Bulls (Nilgais) they are most easily spotted fauna in the desert.

In the monsoons, tidal waters flood the land and the land becomes totally submerged as the Rann fills up with seasonal brackish water ideal for shrimps. The desert metamorphosises to a huge fishing pond and the Agarias give way to the local Maachlimars who then use boats for shrimp cultivation. That explained the rather surreal scene of boats lying abandoned in the midst of the barren deserts!

Evening set in and as the jeep took one last turn, I saw smoke coming up far away from an Agaria camp. A family of salt workers preparing for dinner maybe? For me it was a step into a difficult hostile terrain – I could enjoy the novelty of this unique terrain, unparalleled in the world, comforted by the fact that I was just hours away from the comforts of city life. But for that family of Agarias, the summer has just started. And with it the beginning of hard toil under the relentless sun, with not even a tree for shade.