widldlife sanctuary

i'm on a rooftop, squating under an umbrella, half sheltered from the downpour. sharing the umbrella with me is baby (pronouced bebi), a rather petite man who appointed himself as my guide through the wilderness of indira ghandi wildlife sanctuary, in topslip, on the anaimalai hills. when i arrived, i agreed to go trecking with him the next morning. of course by then, i didn't know there was an acute shortage of food in the park which meant that, after having foolishly skipped my lunch, i had a chapatti with gravy and went to bed starving. i began to think that going out on a four hour walk on no breakfast wasn't the best idea, but baby was coming to meet me at six in the morning and i had no way of cancelling. i managed to bribe one of the staff into getting me some food for the morning and i got off with a small pack of out of date biscuits. not bad when you're starving. half a pack of biscuits later, i was fast asleep to the deafening sound of crickets in the night.
i wake up at 5.30. the day is slowly rising but it's raining. i sit out on the porch of the humble cottage where i spent the night, having a couple more biscuits and thinking it might be sensible to postpone my venture into the wild. when baby arrives carrying a machete, i sensibly explain my reservations to go on with the plan but to no effect. from my eloquent efforts, the only thing that comes across to him is that i have no raincoat - yes, i shipped it when i realised it was of no use under the monsoon and thought that if i ever needed one, i'd be able to buy it. diligently, he fetches me an umbrella. warned about leeches, i tuck my trousers into my socks and off we go.
i seem to find traces of the absurd everywhere i look and now is no exception. as we climb up the hill i picture the comical duet we make: baby carrying a machete , i, a brollie.
it turns ot that baby's little understanding of english is a blessing in disguise. not only i don't have to make or engage in trivial conversation but also, we can walk around all morning wholy enjoying the sounds of the forest. the scenary doesn't disappoint: it's luscious and green and intensified by the ascending mist. however, as the morning progressed, i came to realise that maybe i wasn't so keen on wildlife spotting after all. we walked swiftly and sometimes baby would come to a halt and point into the distance which usually made me regret i hadn't brought my glasses. 'bison!', he said, or 'deer!'. after a few moments i would be able to discern the animal shapes among the green and then, we proceeded. so far, everything was fine with me as i was really enjoying being in the forest. i mean, of course i'd love to spot an elephant, or a herd of them, but i wasn't really counting on that. and as for bisons, what are they really, if not darker cows that live in the wild? i'd say they have it easy compared to some of the cows i've spotted in rush hour mumbai. now that's wild!
anyway, baby took it upon himself to give me a closer view of the wildlife experience. i belive that fuelling this was the customary increase in tip if you actually see any animals. and that is how we came to be on a rooftop under the pouring rain.
baby decided to check an old abandoned forest shelter. he thought that, because of the rain, some animals might be going there for shelter, and he was right. there were two bears inside. my instinct told me 'oh great! bears. let them sleep!' but baby demanded pictures. so we climbed to a good spot on the roof and waited. one of the bears sensed us and came to the door, looked around and went back in. and then, to my horror, baby started making some noises which really upset the bears and scared them off, running. in a childish need for comfirmation baby asked, 'very good?'. out of compassion more than honesty i said, 'yes', and we left. i realise now that there is little need for a machete in the forest except for opening up the path. animals are chased away by the simple presence of people. i can understand why. we carried on into the woods up to where there was an opening into the surrounding mountains. the mist had cleared up a little and the landscape was more defined. all around me, the deafening sounds of water, wind, birds and other animals speak up, drowning my narrating voice

sleep well, good night and don't let the...

bedbugs!?... so it seems i have been having some nightly visits but not the good kind. it actually took me a while to figure out which kind of crawling bug had left its trace on me. it was only after explaining the symptoms - patterns of very itchy bites that start off tiny and expand every day - to other fellow travellers that i actually found out what had bit me. however, i'm still not sure i know what bedbugs are. i thought they were mythical creatures that existed only to frighten small children and make them tuck in snuggly in their beds. like the bogeyman. i hope i don't get bitten by the bogeyman, though...

colective sigh

i had visited the palace during the day. the gardens are strikingly well maintained and the building is very impressive but it's only inside that the palace in mysore presents itself in its full glory. or so i thought.

during the dussera festival, they light up the outside during the festival's 10 consecutive days and every sunday throughout the year, between 7 and 8, they present us with the same stunt. came sunday, i awaited outside the palace's gates as the crowd gathered. at 7, the doors to the gardens were opened, the huge space soon filled. finally, i joined in the collective sigh of marvel as the lights were turned on.

the crowd was further impressed by a militar fanfarre playing waltzs, which i thought was quite amusing even if not particularly well performed, and remembered being gracefully led through the dance floors of sao pedro do sul.

calangute beach

calangute beach wasn't to me the most inviting place to bathe but indian tourist seemed to disagree. the seaside was packed and whoever wasn't bathing was watching others doing it. needless to say, the dresscode was rather different to that of western beaches, particularly for women but not only. i'll let the images speak for themselves.

elodie, thierry and bertrand

last night i hooked up with elodie, thierry and bertrand - three french students doing internships and exchange programs in bangalore - who came to panjim for the weekend. i met them at the restaurant were i had dinner by asking if they knew about a good place to watch the football. eventually, the football was on but i was too busy talking to my new friends to watch it.

i ended up joining them in their explorations today and we spent the day together visiting fort aguada and calangute beach. it was really good to get out of my solitary mode for a change and, at the end of the day, i felt really refreshed by having spent time in their company. they went back to bangalore in the afternoon but we exchanged contacts and, who knows, we might still meet along the way!

panjim, goa

it's still raining. i woke up in anjuna, decided it was more than time to leave and headed to panjim, the state's capital and former portuguese administrative centre.

totally depressed by my stay at the beach, i decided it was time to upgrade and chose to stay on a beautiful restored heritage house, in the fontainhas neighbourhood, which i don't regret.

panjim is strangely quiet and orderly. there are more tourist here than in other places i've visited, but still not that many. everything is also strangely familiar with words and names in portuguese scattered through labels and stret signposts. it's as if i'm in a portuguese interior town that has been colonized by indian people.

i'm happier here and certainly happy to have left anjuna. although, i must say that the good thing about anjuna was to meet sauhard, tenzin and aadittya - is this spelled right? - with whom i watched the beautiful portugal-czech match.

hit by the monsoon

i'm disheartened by the rain... my fantasies of clear water beaches fringed by palm trees go down the drain as i contemplate anjuna's littered stretch of sand that has been partially claimed by the rough sea. there is nothing pretty about this place and i'm starting to question my choices and consider my options...
before i got here, i had no idea what the monsoon really meant except for the knowledge that there was rain involved, sometimes heavy rain. i never considered that the sea would be affected making bathing impossible. every now and again i am assaulted by images of the alentejo, where the beaches and the weather will be at their best this time of the year. again, i consider my options...
on the first chance, i hop on a bus to try and explore the surroundings. i had read that there are other beaches near by that are more peaceful and, hopefully, better kept.
after a couple of entertaining bus rides, i arrive at arambol (pictured) which has a beautiful long clean beach. there are a couple of kids splashing in the waves while they are watched by their mothers who are close by. i fold up my trousers and the sight of my bleach-white legs makes them laugh. i stroll along the beach, feet in the water, trying to conform to the idea that this will be as close as it gets to going to the beach.


ps_i've found another place to stay. not as grotty.