Prasad Rao
'Twas a cold, windy and snowy 4th Saturday of December....No, not quite. In fact it was a hot and humid summer afternoon in Chennai that had turned 10'F warmer indoors due urban warming snake-twined with global warming. The 'Feels Like' Index on the Weather Channel was running out of Colour codes to depict the Weather Torture! Drained of all energy from years and months of commuting in congested buses on congested roads, and wishing we had an AC in every room of the house, Sandhya suggested we consider a holiday in the mountains - Ooty-Coonoor to be precise. Not one to let go of the rare occasions when we agreed on any matter at all, no matter how trivial, I jumped at the suggestion. As is familiar practice amongst the middle class in the Billion-plus India, I immediately dashed for the IRCTC app, and booked tickets online, even those waitlisted, albeit with a reasonable chance of confirmation. Indeed, the upwardly-immobile in the Indian society are occasionally thankful to those other upwardly-mobile Joneses for taking to the Public skies or the Private roads - and anxiously (or excitedly) await the evening hours every day when the Railways churns its lists of hopefuls through their berth choices, even if it means being assigned the infamous end-of-compartment seats, or the 'you-are-not-quite-as-tall-as-you-think' side-berths! (Factoid: The IRCTC PNR Confirmation web page competes ever so closely with the Weather Channel 6-hr Satellite Radar video!)
The hunt now turned to landing a suitable place to holiday at. With hindsight from our Kodaikanal trip, I presumed, rightly, that Ooty too would be a jumble of cramped buildings in the vicinity of the commercial district. Preferring a more serene place (after peeking at my PV balances), I scanned the various directions and contours that make Ooty a must-visit. Searches are that much easier these days on the internet, though it's hard to reconcile the owner's description of their properties with the reviews of those who lease them. Eventually, I spotted one, not too close, not too far - almost the distance at which we stay from Georgetown, Chennai. But what clinched the deal in favour of Wild Horizons, was its Manager, Shazia, who was inviting with amenities, yet firm with her pricing. She promised it'd be quiet and enjoyable holiday and, I, tired of comparing latitude, longitude, distance from the road, amenities, prices and availability, was all too willing when Sandhya suggested I buy in to Wild Horizons.
Destinations in the mountains are hazardous for any number of reasons - wild animals, landslides and rock fall, boulders on the rail tracks, fog and diminished visibility, even errant drivers on the snaky ghats, not to mention under-maintained vehicles. And Chennai is not unknown for Cyclones that force a public standstill, and cause train cancellations at their origin. So we put on our brave faces and took the mighty gauntlet of weather and travel risk that stood between us in sweltering Chennai, and the supposedly salubrious Ooty. The Weather Gods smiled though, and we reached Mettupalayam nestled in the foothills of the Nilgiris for our 2nd leg of the train journey.
The Nilgiris Mountain train is no mystery, and yet it is a sight to behold the small steam engine lined up to push the quaint blue coaches up the winding mountains. Cramped as they were, the lack of coach amenities were soon a distraction with the sight of the grand mountains, valleys, mountain streams, and the 'choo choo' train winding its way on the geared third rail, through tunnels adjacent deep gorges, streams and rivulets. The TTE volunteered us into her 'Ooty Mix' of Malayalam, Tamil and Hindi songs, and we soon reached Kallar. The sight and sound of a gurgling stream underneath a rail bridge immediately beside the station was mesmerizing to the weary urban eyes accustomed to switching gazes between the tail lights ahead and the road signal. The train driver was accommodating of our dalliance with nature, and every passenger filled his/her senses (and image storage) to the hilt.
Then came a no-name, no-stop place, Udderly. Udderly is nature at its resplendent best, and we might just have camped right there for the rest of our holiday! Soon after, we came across, albeit between stations, an enthralling mountain face with water plunging down in a narrow fall - a vertical Rock face that all us 'Nature fledglings' craned our necks to get a fill of! And so we got to Hill Grove, and then to Coonoor. Tea estates announce the arrival of this famous Rich town. The Coonoor station is a sight in the contrast of the green carpet of Tea shrubs all around. The train emptied in half before it chugged again, and we got to Ooty.
The Nilgiris Mountain train is no mystery, and yet it is a sight to behold the small steam engine lined up to push the quaint blue coaches up the winding mountains. Cramped as they were, the lack of coach amenities were soon a distraction with the sight of the grand mountains, valleys, mountain streams, and the 'choo choo' train winding its way on the geared third rail, through tunnels adjacent deep gorges, streams and rivulets. The TTE volunteered us into her 'Ooty Mix' of Malayalam, Tamil and Hindi songs, and we soon reached Kallar. The sight and sound of a gurgling stream underneath a rail bridge immediately beside the station was mesmerizing to the weary urban eyes accustomed to switching gazes between the tail lights ahead and the road signal. The train driver was accommodating of our dalliance with nature, and every passenger filled his/her senses (and image storage) to the hilt.
Then came a no-name, no-stop place, Udderly. Udderly is nature at its resplendent best, and we might just have camped right there for the rest of our holiday! Soon after, we came across, albeit between stations, an enthralling mountain face with water plunging down in a narrow fall - a vertical Rock face that all us 'Nature fledglings' craned our necks to get a fill of! And so we got to Hill Grove, and then to Coonoor. Tea estates announce the arrival of this famous Rich town. The Coonoor station is a sight in the contrast of the green carpet of Tea shrubs all around. The train emptied in half before it chugged again, and we got to Ooty.
Our Driver, Raja Mohammad, obliged us with the Toyota Etios we sought, and we soon extricated ourselves from the town traffic, crossed the Police check point, and negotiated so many hairpins that the 9th hairpin landmark seemed almost a misnomer. As we entered Wild Horizons, we didn't at all mind its aloofness, its quasi old-fashioned construction with rough-cut stone blocks, the broad green lawn that reminded me of our Wheaton, MD, residence, or the view from our Verandah upstairs. We soon turned friends with Shehab, the resident Manager. On his advice we covered the Sholur View point after a breathtaking few minutes at a lake before the Tree Park. Distance is Time in these parts, and the Sholur View point put us back a few hours. We headed back to town and lurched at the opportunity to munch at Nahar Sidewalk Cafe (munch away!), and shop spices along the streets of the Town centre.
Post breakfast, Day 2, served by Joseph at Wild Horizons, we headed to all the traditional sights : Bison Valley - an outstanding Tourist pit stop on way to which you could stock up with fresh estate-packed tea and condiments; Pykara Falls and Pykara Lake; the Tall Eucalyptus at Tree park, the Balding Shooting Point View Point, and the Ooty Botanical Garden, to name a few.
Doddabetta, on Day 3, was a disappoint for the bad roads (a repeat of Pykara roads that your Car Insurance would rather you not hazard) but the windy mist made up for the lost sights. Our drive to Coonoor from the 'betta reminded me of how, two decades ago, I leaned on Sandhya to keep to my driving lane in West Virginia's hilly roads. Despite our 'nature misses' on the Ooty-Coonoor stretch (call it a 'Test of the locals'), Raja tried to get us to Dolphin's Nose in time, but in vain. Instead, we interrupted ourselves, encroached on the Tea estates of Coonoor, drowned ourselves in the misty cold rain, sipped chai, and stuffed our bags with Coonoor Tea, peeped in to Sims Park, and scampered out ever so soon. And not a minute earlier, for the Blue Mountain Train rolled in as we put our bags down Coonoor station.
As we left, I remembered my Dad recounting his years at Aravankadu and Coonoor in the pre- and post-independence years, and how he was surprised by a Big Cat lurking in the hinter of the House....
Doddabetta, on Day 3, was a disappoint for the bad roads (a repeat of Pykara roads that your Car Insurance would rather you not hazard) but the windy mist made up for the lost sights. Our drive to Coonoor from the 'betta reminded me of how, two decades ago, I leaned on Sandhya to keep to my driving lane in West Virginia's hilly roads. Despite our 'nature misses' on the Ooty-Coonoor stretch (call it a 'Test of the locals'), Raja tried to get us to Dolphin's Nose in time, but in vain. Instead, we interrupted ourselves, encroached on the Tea estates of Coonoor, drowned ourselves in the misty cold rain, sipped chai, and stuffed our bags with Coonoor Tea, peeped in to Sims Park, and scampered out ever so soon. And not a minute earlier, for the Blue Mountain Train rolled in as we put our bags down Coonoor station.
As we left, I remembered my Dad recounting his years at Aravankadu and Coonoor in the pre- and post-independence years, and how he was surprised by a Big Cat lurking in the hinter of the House....
Until the next Vacation and more hairy tales.....
Season's greetings from the 'What-if' Martian Robot-Economist ! !
