National Geographic Traveller December 2013 India

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NAVIGATE

Bargain is a word rarely uttered here,
but that doesn't mean there aren't any.
Provision a picnic at the daily open-air
Condamine Market on Place d'Armes, near
the pedestrian-only shopping street Rue
de la Princesse Caroline. Locals have been
coming to the market since 1880 to buy
bread, wine, fruit, and cheese.
Champagne may be Monaco's elixir of
choice, but the local beer is worth a try.
Founded in 1905, the Brasserie de Monaco
shut down for over 30 years before being
resurrected in 2008 at the encouragement
of Prince Albert II. Reserve ahead for a
brewery tour and souvenir glass.
Rising 200 feet above the sea and jutting
between Port Hercule and Fontvieille is
the Rock, crowned by Monaco-Ville and
the Prince's Palace. The Grimaldi family
have ruled from this fortress since Fran<_;ois
Grimaldi, disguised as a monk, captured it
in 1297. Watch the changing of the guard
each morning at 11:55 and from June to
October tour the royal courtyard as well
as several interior state rooms (entry 8/
The Monte Carlo Philharmonic
Orchestra performs during July and August
evenings in the courtyard of the palace.
Coveted tickets go on sale in early June.
The narrow streets of Monaco-Ville
amble toward the Cathedral of Monaco,
celebrating its lOOth year this summer.
Princess Grace and Prince Rainier III wed
here and are now interred behind the altar
alongside other Monegasque sovereigns.
The site of their son's wedding dinner
and ball is the grandiose Oceanographic
Museum, built a century ago by Prince
Albert I and home to marine curiosities,
including a reassembled skeleton of a baleen
whale and an aquarium with 90 tanks filled
with 4,000 fish. The terrace boasts a photo-
worthy view (entry entry to
museum and Prince's Palace).
WHERETO EAT
Monaco's restaurant scene is rife with
big-name chefs and boasts an impressive
eight Michelin stars. Dinner can be budget-
savaging, but prix-fixe lunch menus dish
up starry cuisine at affordable prices. At
French super-chef Joel Robuchon's Japanese
restaurant Yoshi, inside the tony Hotel
Metropole, sample traditional sushi and
sashimi and sip sake or tea in the interior
Japanese garden. The bento menu is 29
for three courses.
On a neighbourhood street above Monte
Carlo, Polpetta (2 Rue Paradis) is a local
favourite, known for their handmade pasta
and fresh fish prepared tableside.
Just steps from the palace on a narrow
street of Monaco-Ville, the family-run
U Cavagnetu (14 Rue Comte Felix Gastaldi)
has been serving traditional Monegasque
cuisine, which is influenced by nearby Italy
and Provence, for 40 years. Try steamed
salmon with dill sauce or pissaladiere,
a tomato-less pizza topped with onions,
anchovies, olives, and garlic.
Yachts dock alongside the Port Palace Hotel, which also boasts a Michelin-starred restaurant.
30 NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC TRAVELLER INDIA I DECEMBER 2013
AWALKIN
FONTVIEILLE
Escape Monte Carlds bustle in this
quieter neighbourhood
This annexed
hundred-acre
land west of
the Rock was
reclaimed
from the
sea during
the 1970s
and today
harbours one
of Monaco's
most
treasured
gardens, a
rare car collection, and a restaurant-
lined port that's more low-key hangout
than hip.
1 H.S.H. The Prince of Monaco's
Vintage car collection Motorcar buffs
drool over this collection of vintage
and rare automobiles, including the
Rolls-Royce Princess Grace used on her
wedding day. Breezy posters (above)
capture a golden age of motoring.
2 Princess Grace rose garden This
peaceful green spot tucked into
Fontvieille Park is scented with over
4,000 rosebushes.
3 Columbus brasserie For more than
just a croissant to start the day, head
to this popular breakfast spot for eggs
Benedict or a full breakfast of eggs,
sausage, tomatoes, and toast.
4 Fontvieille flea market Juxtaposed
against Monaco's luxe boutiques, this
small Saturday morning market of
old books, cutlery, and knick-knacks is
fun to sift through before settling
into one of the busy cafes along
Fontvieille's port.
5 The sculpture path The curvy
pedestrian lanes of Fontvieille Park
reveal about a hundred sculptures from
contemporary international artists such
as Fernando Botero.
6 Louis 11 stadium The 18,000-seat
stadium is home to the AS Monaco
soccer team, but sprawling under the
ground is a vast sporting complex,
including an Olympic-size freshwater
heated pool that's open to the public
and used for international competitions.
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Tourism Authority of Thailand New Delhi Office:
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Tel: 91-11-46741111, 41663567-9 I Fax: 91-11-41663570
Email: tatdel@tat.or.th
Tourism Authority of Thailand Mumbai Office:
45 Free Press House, 4th Floor, 215 Free Press Journal Marg,
Nariman Point, Mumbai 400021 I Tel: 91-22-22042727-8
Fax: 91-22-22042729 I Email: tatmumbai@tat.or.th
Always Amazes You
www. tourismthailand.org
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CJ Twitter.com/ThaiAmazes You
NAVIGATE

A SLEEPY VILLAGE IN KARNATAKA GETS A FLURRY OF VISITORS EVERY NOVEMBER
By ANITA RAO KASHI
Spot-billed pelicans and painted storks (pictured) are known to nest in proximity. Both species
are near-threatened though their numbers in India have increased in the last few years. The
birds have 21 nesting sites in the country, most of which are in south India.
he winding road was a bit bumpy in
places, but I didn't mind. The uneven
path only heightened my expectations
of what lay ahead. I was about 70 km
from Bengaluru, flanked by parrot-green
sugarcane fields, looking for the sleepy
hamlet of Kokkarebellur. The village is
named after its migratory bird population
(kokkare is stork), which arrive in the
months following the monsoon.
For centuries now, legions of spot-billed
pelicans and painted storks have descended
upon this otherwise nondescript piece of
Karnataka, filling the verdurous landscape
with flecks of white.
The birds surprise me. I was expecting
large numbers, but I wasn't prepared for
their ease with the villagers. Most migratory
populations tend to flock away from human
activity but these birds were squawking
about in the heart of Kokkarebellur,
indifferent to the residents. The people too,
went about their day unperturbed by the
large, white creatures. Some were perched
on ficus trees; others swooped from the
roofs of houses to tamarind trees, where
they fussed about their nests. They fed on
fish from the River Shimsha, which was
about a kilometre away, but returned to
Kokkarebellur every day.
Over the years, a unique relationship has
developed between the villagers and birds.
The residents consider the birds harbingers
of good luck, and even tend to orphaned
fledglings that occasionally fall out of their
lofty homes. They use the bird's urea-rich
droppings as fertiliser for their crop.
I watched the birds that were clustered
in groups of ten or fifteen. The stoic
pelicans, with their long, pink, and
slightly intimidating beaks, devoted all
their attention to feeding their cackling
hatchlings. They were beautiful, but I
was fascinated by the low-flying painted
storks. At first, I was startled by their sheer
size. They reminded me of pteranodon,
the winged dinosaurs from Jurassic Park
and I instinctively ducked when a bird
close by took off. But the sheer elegance
of their flight across the spotless blue sky
mesmerised me. The massive birds have a
wing span of over seven feet.
Some villagers told me they flew in from
other parts of India; others claimed they
travelled from Southeast Asia. The birds
visit in November every year and stay until
early May. During their stay, they mate,
lay eggs, and tend to their hatchlings
until they are strong enough to make the
flight back.
Silhouettes of the storks and pelicans
dominated the village landscape but I
also saw other birds: flocks of cormorants,
egrets, herons, and black ibis. There were
crows too. But the otherwise boisterous
birds were pecking around the larger birds,
steering clear of their path, as if suffering
from an inferiority complex. I spent an hour
wandering around identifying different
birds, until I finally settled down on a
stone bench under a sprawling tamarind
tree at the entrance to the village. As I sat
enveloped by the raucous sound of the birds,
periodically interrupted by the muscular
flapping of wings and the swoosh of them
taking off, I knew this was going to be my
most enduring memory.
THE VITALS
Orientation Kokkarebellur is in Maddur
taluka of Mandya district, Karnataka. It is
80 km southwest of Bengaluru.
When to visit The birds generally arrive
in November and stay until May.
Route Head out of Bengaluru on
Mysore Road, past Ramanagaram
and Channapatna. About 5 km before
the town of Maddur, take a left at
Rudrakshipura village, near a large
Karnataka Tourism hoarding indicating
a "pelicanry". Kokkarebellur is 12 km
from the turnoff. The road is winding
and peppered with signs, and people are
happy to help with directions.
Getting there Taxis from Bengaluru
charge for a roundtrip. KSRTC has
services to Maddur, but departure times
are unreliable. From Maddur, there are
bus and cab services for half-day)
that transport visitors to Kokkarebellur.
Need to know There are no eateries in
the village, only tender coconut stalls.
Kamat Lokaruchi, outside Ramanagaram,
is the nearest restaurant. There are also
places to eat in Maddur. It is best to pack
a light lunch and picnic under the trees in
the village, but take care not to litter.
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Coffee Brewing is of two categories. Filter and Espresso.
Here is the process of extraction to brew an excellent coffee.
There are different ways of obtaining flavour from
filter coffee depending on the taste. In India, the
most commonly used filter coffee is what is known
as South Indian Filter Coffee.
Add 2og ( 4tsp) of fresh roasted coffee powder
to the brew basket.
Pour 200 ml of freshly boiled water over the
coffee powder and close the brew basket.
Allow it to brew for 4-6 minutes.
Wait for the brewing cycle to complete.
Pour the brew into the cup.
Add fresh, hot milk and sugar to the brew
(Optional)
The tasteful, stress reliever Filter Coffee is ready for
serving.
This is a liquid coffee extracted very fast under both
high pressure and temperature. A 30 ml of Espresso
coffee can be extracted from about 7 to 10 gm of
coffee powder within 30 seconds.
The extraction takes very little time. The Espresso
coffee has to be consumed immediately after
brewing to get that taste.
Coffee connoisseurs consume Espresso directly
without mixing it with either milk or sugar.
Espresso coffee blends itself excellently to creating
a large number of Espresso based coffee
preparations such as Cafe Latte, Cafe Mocha and
Cappuccino, to name a few.
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NAVIGATE

reasure
AN OPEN-AIR MUSEUM OFFERS AN INSIGHT INTO CENTRAL INDWS
LITTLE-KNOWN CRAFTS
Text & Photograph by ANURAG MALLICK AND PRIYA GANAPATHY
n army of metal warriors and
terracotta statues stands under the
blazing sun. We're at Purkhauti
Muktangan (literally, ''heritage in
an open courtyard"), the compound walls
of which are inked with godna or tattoo
designs. The interior walls have been
transformed into storybooks, bearing
murals of folk tales and a 3D relief depicting
children on a swing. Inside, there are crafts
such as dhokra figurines crafted with the
4,000-year-old lost wax technique.
The 200-acre, open-air museum, located
19 km from Chhattisgarh's capital Raipur,
gives a glimpse into the state's diverse
cultural heritage, from Surguja in the
north to Bastar in the south. In a departure
from the traditional "museum" as a
repository of relics in glass cases, most
installations at Purkhauti Muktangan are
open to the elements. Visitors can also
interact with the craftsmen.
The museum was conceived by the
Chhattisgarh Tourism Board and the state's
Department of Culture and Archaeology.
Its value lies in the underlying stories.
Window lattices, or diwal bitti, created
by Sonabai Rajwar of Puhphutara village,
in the northern part of the state, relate
the heart-rending tale of a woman whose
husband locked her away in their home for
15 years, starting in 1953. During that time
she only interacted with her husband and
young son, the guide tells us. To keep herself
distracted, Rajwar made clay dolls using
mud from the courtyard. Sticks and hay
became toy frames, and ground spices and
minerals served as paint. She also devised
a bamboo lattice screen door, embellished
with clay animal figurines, to cool her home

Orientation Purkhauti Muktangan is in Naya Raipur, Chhattisgarh.
Getting there From Raipur, drive 19 km southeast onto SH2 to reach Purkhauti Muktangan
at Uparwara in Naya Raipur. Raipur is connected to major cities by air and train.
Guided tour Chhattisgarh Tourism's Culture Department organises a two-hour guided
tour in English or Hindi on prior notice (0771-253 7404).
and to filter light from the courtyard. This
technique later came to be known as the
Surguji style of architectural ornamentation.
The artist was discovered by Bhopal's Bharat
Bhavan scouts in 1983, when they came
across her home in Surguja. Rajwar was
honoured with the President's Award two
years later, and went on to hold sculpting
workshops at international platforms, before
she passed away in 2007.
Visitors can also see exquisite carved
wooden combs, which are tokens of
affection that Muria boys offer their love
interests, sacred memorial pillars for the
dead that are usually erected in front of
Bastar tribal homes, intricate jalis, carved
totem poles, and much more. Time your
visit to coincide with Lokprasang, a three-
day cultural festival usually held in March,
April, September, and December.
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Paithani saris can take upto a year to weave, and cost between <5,000 to (5,00,000.

ine
COULD THE PAITHANI DATE BACK TO THE SECOND CENTURY?
By NEHA SUMITRAN
ou can't escape the Paithani in
Aurangabad. The sari is everywhere.
On hoardings, tourist pamphlets, and
bus stops sharing space with misspelt
graffiti and Bollywood heart-throbs. If the
advertising is to be believed, the local weave
is second only to Banarasi silk, and "only
because the holy city has better marketing;'
a textile merchant told me as he unfurled a
sari the colour of brooding amethyst.
Made from thick, heavy silk, the weave
is identified by its geometric animal motifs,
and liberal use of gold. A modest Paithani
weighs about 1.5 kg-a heavy Kanjivaram
sari is 500 gm lighter. Though I couldn't
afford one, the store owner was happy
showing off his collection. As the textile
parade continued, I began to recognise
some of the motifs. The peacocks and
flowers were remarkably similar to those
I had seen in Ajanta Caves. I was intrigued.
I knew that Paithanis were originally made
with fine muslin, which would explain the
translucent drapes of Buddhist apsaras in
Ajanta's frescoes. And they were both from
around the second century. Could the drapes
in Ajanta's murals actually be Paithani saris?
I figured the best way to find out was to
visit Paithan, 50 km north of Aurangabad.
The town is filled with chai shops, stores
selling cheap plastic toys, and jalebi-
coloured homes in various states of
disrepair-a far cry from its illustrious past.
In the second century, the town was called
Pratishtana and was briefly the capital of the
ancient Satavahana Empire, whose rulers
were known for their patronage of the arts.
It was under their rule that Buddhist monks
began carving Ajanta's masterpieces.
Pratishtana was a thriving trade centre,
and finds mention in Greco-Roman texts
dating back to the 1st century A.D. Ptolemy's
records mention a "Baithana", while Arrian,
another famous Greek historian, writes of
the region's beads, coins, and jewellery. But
the ancient city's most valued exports were
onyx, and intricately woven textiles, which
fetched a high price, if not royal favour.
It was hard to believe the squat,
characterless building before me was one
of few centres in the country preserving
the venerable art of Paithani weaving.
The only people in the store were three,
bored-looking cashiers. A few feet away, two
mannequins draped in Paithani saris were
frozen mid-namaste.
The looms-over a 100 of them-were
in a large room behind the store. There,
groups of women quietly worked to the
muted strains of a wheezing transistor
radio. Deepa, a shy but giggly weaver, told
me that Maharashtrian mothers would save
for decades so their daughter could wear a
Paithani on her wedding day. To be married
into a house with more than one Paithani-a
rarity, Deepa assured me-is considered a
matter of pride. Like the 200-odd weavers
here, she spends her days weaving these
saris but doesn't own one herself.
On returning to Aurangabad, I visited Mr.
Subramanyam at the Archaeology Society
of India, about the Buddhist connection
that spurred my visit to Paithan. Although
there is no way of knowing whether Paithani
saris actually feature in Ajanta's frescoes,
he says, generations of weavers have
sought inspiration from the cave paintings.
Centuries-old saris in museums, feature the
Buddha sitting on a lotus-the only human
or god to appear on these pieces.
Mustard yellow, unabashedly loud
greens, and purples-the saris I saw at the
weaving centre were so luxurious, I couldn't
imagine wearing one. I was content just
looking-until I spotted a black sari at the
far end. It had the glossy darkness of raven
feathers and a pallu featuring a single,
blood-red flower in different stages of
bloom. And just like that I wanted one too.
To swathe myself in luscious silk, hear it
rustle as I walk, and feel the woven petals
under my fingertips.
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TROPICAL INDOOR GARDENS THRIVE THOUGH IT'S FREEZING OUTSIDE
rom the air, the Eden Project in
Cornwall, U.K., looks like a set
of gigantic golf balls. Some even
compare the bubble-like structures
to alien spaceships. But the steel and
thermoplastic domes-spread across 37
acres of an abandoned quarry-are actually
greenhouses that recreate two kinds of
biomes (ecosystems): Mediterranean and
Rainforest. More than 5,000 plants grow
inside the eco-amusement park that was
opened to public view in 2001.
In July this year, the park went to the
next level, adding an aerial walkway
to the Rainforest biome, in one of the
biggest conservatories on Earth. The park
introduced an elevated treetop pathway
through a snazzy parkour video on its
website. The walkway allows visitors to
look at rainforest canopies without getting
a crick in the neck. Close your eyes, take in
the heady comingling of orchid, cocoa, and
By RANJABATI DAS
coffee aromas, and you can nearly see Marty,
Alex, Gloria, and Melman, the quartet from
Madagascar, in your mind's eye.
Several pit stops along the aerial route
attempt to offer viewers a glimpse into life in
the rainforest. At the Baka Camp, children
and adults can explore how Baka hunter-
gatherers interact with the forests of the
Cameroon, the Congo basin, and Gabon,
and how rapid deforestation now threatens
their existence. Canopy Camp is "an aerial
laboratory and campsite" where scientists
teach young visitors about the importance
of rainforests and their ecological impact
on the rest of the planet. And the Nest
Platform attempts to demystify the complex
internal life of temperate flora in "nature's
design studio". The park hopes to extend
the elevated path in forthcoming years, to
include a Weather Station.
The temperature inside each of
the biomes rests at a comfortable 18
to 35C (Rainforest) or 9C to 25C
(Mediterranean), presenting a sharp
contrast to the chill outside. At the
Mediterranean biome, the fragrance
of citrus trees lingers. The vineyard is
a popular draw along with the Indian
subcontinent's Dorset N aga chilli,
considered one of the hottest in the world.
(It's fun to reach out and touch the grapes,
but it is perhaps best to keep the chillies at
arm's length, as they can cause burns.)
But if plants and veggies don't inspire you,
plan a visit timed around Eden Sessions,
the annual music and comedy festival. Past
headliners have included Snow Patrol,
Paolo Nutini, and Mumford & Sons. Aside
from evening gigs, there are workshops,
and a fair-trade food market. For the more
adventurous, the Eden Project also has the
world's fastest and longest zip-wire ride
(www.edenproject.com; 10 a.m.-6 p.m.;
tickets 23.50ft2,376 for adults).
State Bank of India
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PROUD TO BE INDIAN
NAVIGATE

era ouse
HERE'S WHYTHEAUSTRALIAN ARTS CENTRE GETS SIX MILLION VISITORS EVERYYEAR
he billowing Opera House was a
gamble when it started. Literally.
Costs were estimated at $ 7 million,
but the building's final price tag
came to $102 million (over crore),
with the money coming mostly from
the State Lottery. And the punters who
paid for it had to wait to hear the fat lady
sing-the construction, estimated to take
four years when it began in 1959, took
14. The final result was worth waiting
for. Today, millions of tourists flock to the
Opera House annually, photographing
its gleaming roof (the shape of full sails
enhanced by 10,56,006 white ceramic tiles)
and marvelling at the wonder Down Under.
NICE PIPES
The Opera House was conceptualised by
Danish architect J0rn Utzon, who won an
open design competition conducted by
the South Wales government. Judge Eero
Saarinen described his plans as "genius". The
building's grand organ has 10,154 pipes.
By ANDREW NELSON
WHAT'S IN A NAME?
The Aborigines called the promontory
on which the Opera House was built
Tubowgule, or "meeting of the waters".
The settlers called it Bennelong Point in
honour ofWoollarawarre Bennelong,
one of the first indigenous Australians to
visit England.
REPEAT ENGAGEMENT
Queen Elizabeth dedicated the building
on 20 October 1973, and has since visited
four times.
PUMPEDmON
In 1980 Arnold Schwarzenegger won the
"Mr. Olympia" bodybuilding contest held
in the Concert Hall.
SEVEN HEAVEN
The Opera House hosts around 1,800
performances a year at seven venues. The
Concert Hall, with its grand organ, is
renowned for its acoustics.
CABLE STABLE
Construction included laying 349
kilometres of cable. Placed end to end,
the cable would stretch to the capital
city of Canberra.
LIGHTEN UP
Some 15,500 light bulbs are changed
annually. Workers are gradually replacing
old bulbs with more eco-friendly versions
that consume less power.
CROON WITH A VIEW
African-American opera singer Paul
Robeson was the first person to perform
at the Sydney Opera House. In 1960, the
baritone got up on the scaffolding and
sang "01' Man River" to the construction
workers on their lunch hour.
WHODUNNIT?
The Opera House is the setting of the
mystery novel Helga's Web, by Jon Cleary.
He put a body in the basement.
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Discover t e o u ence o Oman
Majestic mountain ranges tower over teeming coral reefs, where red desert sands
mysteriously shift as they whisper tales of a bygone era. Age-old traditions merge
seamlessly with modern five-star service and Oman's world renowned Arabian
hospitality. It's the perfect destination for your next holiday.
Beauty has an address
For more information, please contact:
Oman Tourist Office - India, Vaman Centre, Maro! Makwana Road,
Off. Andheri - Kurla Road, Andheri (East), Mumbai - 400 059, India.
Tel: +9122 2925 6965, Fax: +91222925 6967, Email: info@tourismoman.co.in,
Web: www.omantourism.gov.om, Visit our FB page: Facebook/Oman Tourism India
SULTANATE OF
om an
Ministry of Tourism
NAVIGATE
Park
SOAK IN THE LANDSCAPE THAT INSPIRED RUDYARD KIPLING
By NEHA SUMITRAN I Photographs by DHRITIMAN MUKHERJEE
Unlike tigers, which hunt in the day, leopards restrict their predatory excursions to the night. They are expert climbers and often spend their days
snoozing on branches of trees.
anha has spectacular sunsets. From
Bamni Dadar, the reserve's highest
point, herds of sambar and gaur
are reduced to delicate silhouettes.
Pools of water and the grasslands become
golden, the skies turn a moody purple, and
then an inky black. Deer huddle together
to find safety in numbers, as packs of
jackals begin to howl, giving the plains
a sinister air.
Decades after Kanha's landscape stirred
Rudyard Kipling to write the timeless tale
of Mowgli, the region's vast wilderness is
still awe-inspiring. The national park in
southern Madhya Pradesh is spread over
940 sq km and has marshes, thickets of
bamboo, sal forests, and grasslands. Tourists
visit in droves hoping to see Kanha's large
tiger population, but numerous other
animals also inhabit the region. Spend at
least two or three days in the park so that
you can dedicate one expedition to tiger-
spotting and the rest to observing Kanha's
other inhabitants at leisure.
EXPLORE
Park authorities track the big cat's sightings
and relay the information to guides with
walkie-talkies. This vastly increases the
chances of a tiger sighting, but it also
means that numerous jeeps will flock to
the spot within minutes of a tiger being
spotted, diminishing the magic of observing
the animal in solitary splendour. There are
jeeps and canter safaris
in open buses, which can be booked at the
Forest Office, or through the resorts. Only
a limited number of vehicles are permitted
to enter the reserve each day so it is best to
book safaris in advance. The national park
is closed on Wednesdays.
BIRD LIFE
In addition to the drivers, who are fairly
knowledgeable, visitors can also have a
naturalist accompany them on jungle
safaris. This is highly recommended if you
want to identify Kanha's reptilian life and its
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NAVIGATE
Park

Like Baloo in The Jungle Book, the sloth bear's (top left) necessities include a diet of plump bugs, ants, and other insects, which they pick using
their sickle-shaped claws; Barasingha deer (top right) are named after their large antlers, which have twelve (hara) tines or branches (singha); The
Royal Bengal tiger (bottom right) and leopard are among the most threatened species in Kanha National Park, but numbers of other predators, like
jungle cats (bottom left) and.fishing cats, are also dwindling.
orchestra of birds. About 200 bird species
live in the reserve. By shallow water bodies,
storks, teals, pintails, pond herons, egrets,
and kingfishers are often spotted. Peacocks
are a common sight, as are spur fowls, ring
doves, spotted parakeets, green pigeons,
bee-eaters, drongos, warblers, and owls.
ANIMAL LIFE
In addition to the park's natural water
sources, Kanha has pipe-fed ponds to
ensure that animals survive the harsh
Madhya Pradesh summer. The watering
holes are popular with barasingha or
swamp deer, a species that Kanha's
authorities take credit for saving from
extinction. The trees are favoured by
striped palm squirrels, langurs, snakes,
and leopards, while the meadows are
the playground of chital, four-horned
antelope, and black buck. India's four most
poisonous snakes- Russell's viper, saw-
scaled viper, cobra, and common krait-
can be found here.
SEASONS
Kanha National Park is open from 15
October to 30 June. In summer (March to
LOCAL ICON
This May, the Corbett Foundation
established a tribal museum at the
park headquarters in Kanha village. The
museum features exhibits about the
ecosystem, as well as information about
the Baiga and Gond tribes, the region's
indigenous people. There are illustrative
panels and artefacts such as kitchen
utensils, to give visitors an understanding
of tribal culture. Buy local handicrafts
from the museum shop (7 a.m. -6 p.m.).
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Skytrax - 'Best Low Cost Airline in Central Asia I India' 2013
TripAdvisor - 'Favourite Domestic Airline' 2012
NAVIGATE
Park
May), the grasslands are parched. The
days are long, sweaty, and dehydrating.
However, the searing heat guarantees
sightings as animals flock to water bodies
to drink and cool off. Temperatures range
between 23.9C and 40.6C. Winters (Nov-
Feb) are much more pleasant. Big cats are
harder to sight but a host of migratory
bird species flock to the reserve. The forest
is green, days are cool, and nights are
chilly enough to require light layers. Day
temperatures are in the mid-20s, and the
mercury drops about ten degrees after
sunset. From mid-June to October, the
region receives heavy rainfall.
GETTING THERE
Kanha National Park is spread over
the districts of Mandla and Balaghat in
Madhya Pradesh. The reserve has two
entrance gates: Khatia in the Mandla
District and Mukki gate (also known as
the Khisli gate) in Balaghat district.
Jabalpur (160 km/2.5 hours) is equidistant
to both park entrances; it is also the
closest airport. There are taxis
and frequent buses between Jabalpur and
Kanha. The closest railway stations are
Gondia (145 km/3 hours) and Jabalpur.
STAY
There are many accommodation options
on the periphery of Kanha National Park,
ranging from eco-lodges and budget hotels
to plush resorts and five-star properties.
Package deals usually include park entry
fees, and one jeep safari. It is best to make
reservations at least a few weeks in advance
as Kanha is crowded in the winter season.
Gaurs (top) are the largest species of wild cattle on the planet and roam in temporary herds, often led by an oldfemale. They are the main prey of
the tiger but have, on occasion, killed solitary predators by banding together; Kanha's openjeep safaris (bottom) give visitors the opportunity to
photograph a variety of wildlife, ranging.from colourful li%ards and birds to big cats and herds of swamp deer.
NAVIGATE
~ r b a n Renewal
MANHATTAN'S LIVELY BOROUGH IS CELEBRATING ITS PAST
early a century after Langston Hugh es
and Billie Holiday turned Manhattan's
cultural landscape upside down,
Harlem is again seeing rebirth. "You
can smell the creative edge in the air;' says
Helena Greene, whose Swing boutique sells
European fashions alongside locally crafted
jewellery and art. Rather than obscure the
neighbourhood's history, newcomers appear
dedicated to reviving its past. A few blocks
from the famed Apollo Theater-the stage
By JACKIE CARADONIO
that launched Ella Fitzgerald and Jam es
Brown-MIST Harlem pulses with film and
live performances, ranging from jazz and
comedy to documentaries set on the streets
of New York. Throwback hangouts offer 2lst-
century interpretations of basement clubs
and soda shops, such as the vinyl-and-tile
Harlem Shake burger spot and 67 Orange
Street, inspired by an 1840s dance hall
that was one of the city's first black-owned
bars. Harlem's premier beer garden, Bier
International, serves Sugar Hill golden
ale, a riff on an old recipe brewed here
during the Harlem Renaissance. With new
condos rising, some locals fear the loss of
the neighbourhood's ''heart and soul;'
Greene says-but for now, its heritage is
proving strong.
Tip: Skip the bus tours and instead take the
number 2 or 3 subway line to 125th street
station; then explore on foot.
Enduring Value
Scan & join us on
www.facebook.com/Classmate
Email us at classmate@itc.in or call 1800 425 3242
BECAUSE YOU ARE ONE OF A KIND
. . . . . . r ~ ~
NAVIGATE
Traveller

nsi
THE FRENCH CAPITAL IS THE HUB OF LUXURY, BUT IT HAS BARGAINS-
IF YOU KNOWWHERE TO LOOK.
legant Paris is among the world's most
popular tourist destinations. With its
reputation for luxury chic, it can often
feel overpriced and overdone. But on
the flip side, Paris has always welcomed
students, artists, and freeloaders. It
remains a captivating city full of affordable,
enjoyable activities. As any Parisian will
tell you, style is an attitude-and it's free.
Pick a street-facing cafe table, order a glass
of wine, slow down, and watch the world
go by. Voila!
THE MUSEUM ROUND
For the culture buff, the Paris Museum
Pass offers a speedy entry to over 60 prime
institutions. But those planning to visit only
a few museums should try visiting on days
when entry is free. All museums are free on
the first Sunday of the month, but these can
get crowded, so look out for "nocturnes", or
late closing days, when many institutions
stay open until 10 p.m. Or just skip the big
By NAYANTARA MAYA OBEROI
guns for one of the city's 14 free museums,
like the Musee Carnavalet, which focuses
on the history of Paris. Located in a pair of
opulent 16th- and 17th-century mansions,
the exhibits trace the city's evolution from
prehistory to modern times. Whatever
museums or tourist attractions you do
choose, it's best to book and print out tickets
ahead of time, so that you can sail past the
lines ( www.parismuseumpass.com).
HIT THE HIGH NOTE
Paris boasts two world-class opera
houses and thousands of theatres. Early
birds can get spots from 5 423 at the
modern Opera Bastille, and
at the more sumptuous Opera Garnier
(www.operadeparis.fr/en). With a little
perseverance, same-day tickets can be
found for as little as generally
an hour-and-a-half before starting time.
(The spectacularly baroque, gilt-heavy
facade of the Garnier itself makes waiting
The Opera Garnier (left) was the settingfor
Gaston Leroux 's classic novel, The Phantom
of the Opera; Even.free museums in Paris
have art collections that include greats such
as Van Gogh (top), Monet, Manet, and Picasso.
around outside worthwhile.) At the
ordinary tickets start
at 20 but discounted seats go for
about if you line up on the day
of the show. However, many of these have
reduced visibility, sometimes from behind
pillars. To amp up your culture-vulture
credentials, go to Villette Sonique ( www.
villettesonique.com), an open-air festival of
rock, pop, and electronic music that takes
place every year in the Pare de la Villette.
To find a free Wi-Fi spot-there are many all
over Paris, including several in public parks-
visit www.wifi.paris.fr.
FLEA MARKET FINDS
The flea markets of Paris are justly
renowned: They sell everything from
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House Boat Haritha Coconut Country Resort
The call of the birds. The lull of the waters. And the verdant landscapes. Welcome to Andhra Pradesh.
A land full of irresistible wonders. Where nature is at its awe inspiring best. Where your every step transports
you to a new dimension of nature's beauty and grandeur. Enjoy your stay in Andhra Pradesh at Haritha Resort.
Where your every need and comfort are taken care of. It's always better here in Andhra Pradesh.
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Nature Heritage Pilgrimage Culture Adventure Wildlife Wellness Conventions
Coconut groves
Toll Free: 1800-42-545454
Email: info@aptdc.gov.in
www.aptdc.gov.in
NAVIGATE
Traveller
Studentsfrequent the small bookstores along the Seine (left) and then park along the city's many little canals to spend time with their purchases;
The banks of St. canal (right) are especially popular with young crowds who flock here on summer days.
statuary to sewing machines, birdcages to
Baccarat crystal. The city's most famous
marche (market), the Puces de Saint Ouen,
consists ofl4 huge markets, and it can be a
little overwhelming. If you're not feeling up
to negotiating what can feel like an entire
city, and high-end antiques are a little out of
your budget, head to the more manageable
(and more disorganised) Marche de Vanves
in the south of Paris. Look for signs that say
"Les Puces", or "the Fleas". Making it there
before 11 a.m. on Saturday or Sunday will
guarantee bargains: My last trip yielded two
art deco pendants from the 1920s, a heap
of second-hand books, and a typewriter
made in 1913.
Puces de Saint Ouen 140 Rue des Rosiers,
93400 Saint Ouen Sat-Mon 9 a.m.-6 p.m.
Marche de Porte de Vanves near Porte de
Vanves Metro. Sat-Sun 7 a.m.-1 p.m.
BROWSE BOOKSTORES
The English-language bookshop
Shakespeare and Co is deservedly famous,
but it's hard to appreciate its charms when
you have to elbow past tourists at every
turn, and more people are taking Instagram
selfies than reading. A far better bet for
those seeking English-language books is the
delightful Abbey Bookshop just around the
corner. While their organising policy can
best be described as anarchic, the store's
tiny aisles, sliding shelves and basement
full of political and social science titles are
a goldmine. The shop is best approached
with an open mind. You may or may not
find the book you came in to buy, but a
book-perhaps the book you didn't know
you were looking for-will find you. If
you're really set on a particular title, owner
Brian Spencer and the staff somehow know
where everything is and can pull it out. If
you linger for a chat they'll off er you some
Canadian-style hot coffee sweetened with
maple syrup.
You can also find (mostly) French-
language books at the city's flea markets
and at the bouquinistes: The used-book
sellers along the Seine around Notre Dame
who have been there since the mid-1500s.
Their characteristic green boxes are filled
with old books, posters, postcards, art
prints, and stamps. Skip the Eiffel Tower
aprons and baguette keyrings, because a
quayside browse can often lead you to a real
first edition, or a second-hand gem.
The Abbey Bookshop 29 Rue de la
Parcheminerie, 75005 ( +33-1-4633 1624);
Mon-Sat 10 a.m.-7 p.m.
PICNIC IN STYLE
When in Paris, picnic like a Parisian: on the
banks of the Seine, or in one of the many
beautiful parks. Choose from the Jardins
de Luxembourg, the Place des Vosges, the
Pare des Buttes Chaumont or the lush Bois
de Boulogne, where you can work up an
appetite by rowing around the lake. Or head
east to the Canal Saint-Martin, to mingle
with Paris's hip hobos (bourgeois-bohemian,
or standard-issue hipster), lining the quays
and footbridges, spilling out of the bars
and restaurants and playing petanque, the
French version of lawn bowling.
SHOP AT A LOCAL MARKET
You can stock up for your picnic at any
of the city's traditional outdoor markets.
The Marche d'Aligre offers everything
from cheese to socks to something that
smells suspiciously in between the two.
The organic market along the Boulevard
Raspail, the Rue Montorgueil, the Marais's
Marche des Enfants Rouges, and the stalls
at Place Monge are other great bets.
Start with wine: A crisp, cold white or
rose for summer, and a cheerful, not-
too-ponderous red for winter. Add fresh,
warm bread, some cheese, sliced cured
charcuterie, pate, olives, quiche, finger-
friendly fruit and veggies, and anything
else that catches your fancy a,t the marche.
Don't forget dessert!
For a list of neighbourhood markets see
marches.equipements.paris.fr/
Got no room for dessert? Short on cash? Or
just can't choose? Ask for a cafe gourmand.
One of France's best-ever idees, the cafe
gourmand usually comprises an espresso plus
mini portions of three or more desserts-a
lovely way to try several sweet nothings at
once, with no apprehensive rumblings in either
your stomach or wallet.
CLOTHES BY THE KILO
The super-hip neighbourhood of Marais is
awash with vintage and thrift stores, many
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of which are clustered around the Rue du
Roi de Sicile. At the Kilo Shop (which has
several locations around the city), second-
hand and vintage clothing and accessories
are priced according to weight-so much
more exciting than your daily vegetable
shop. Scales placed around the shop tell
you how much your chosen shoes, scarf or
jeans weigh, and what you'll pay. Hunting
through the polyester and rather-too-
distressed shoes takes time, but there
are real gems among the clutter. I'll have
400 gm of jeans, 400gm of chiffon skirts,
and 1 kg of winter coat.
Kilo Shop 69-71 rue de la Verrerie, 75004
( +33-9-6713 7954); Daily 11 a.m.-8.30 p.m.
FILMS UNDER THE NIGHT SKY
There's nothing quite as magical as watching
a film under the stars. Open-air screenings
take place through the summer at locations
like the Pare de la Villette. Take a blanket
and a picnic basket and settle down to watch
the evening's film projected onto a giant,
inflatable screen just after sunset. When
it gets colder, check what's playing at La
Pagode, a cinema built in 1895 to resemble
a full-scale Japanese pagoda as a present for
the wife of Bon Marche department store
founder Emile Morin.
Pare de la VilletteAvenue Corentin
Cariou, 75019.
La Pagode 57 bis, Rue de Babylone, 75007
( +33-1-4555 4848).
HAVE YOUR GATEAU AND EAT ITTOO
The luxurious, inventive flavours of Pierre
Herme's macaroon, the Japanese-French
fusion of Sadaharu Aoki's yuzu tartlet,
the classic patisserie of Jacques Genin
(best sampled at its tea salon), or the
space-age whimsy of La Patisserie des
Reves? Or new kid on the block, L'eclair
de Genie's spectacular (and pricey) 5 423
eclairs? Pace yourself well, and you won't
have to choose. Don't forget to grab a
little bouchee (a "mouthful") of exquisite
chocolate treats to go, from any of the
master chocolatiers around the city, like
Un Dimanche a Paris, La Maison du
Chocolat or Patrick Roger.
Pierre Herme 72 rue Bonaparte, 75006
( +33-1-4354 4777; pierreherme.com).
Jacques Genin 133 rue de Turenne, 75003
( +33-1-4577 2901).
Sadaharu Aoki 56 boulevard de Port-
Royal, 75005 ( +33-1-4535 3680) and 35
rue de Vaugirard, 75006 (1454 44890).
La Patisserie des Reves See www.
lapatisseriedesreves.com for locations.
,
L'Eclair De Genie: 14 rue Pavee, 75004
( +33-1-4277 8511).
Un Dimanche a Paris 4-8 Gour du
Commerce Saint Andre, 75006 ( +33-1-
56811818 ).
La Maison du Chocolat See www.
lamaisonduchocolat.com for locations.
Patrick Roger See www.patrickroger.com
for locations.
Paris is knownfor its buskers, (left) who play
at parks, metro stations, and on crowded
streets lined with cafes. The canal bridges of
Notre Dame and the square outside Centre
Pompidou are especially popular with street
musicians; Among the many, sinful desserts
that the French are known for, is the delicate,
airy, pop art-coloured macaroon (right).
LOCAL FAVOURITES
If you really want to blend in, order an espresso
and watch the world go by at a pavement cafe.
Pro tip: If you're not planning to linger, drinking
your coffee at the bar ("au comptoir") often
costs only a euro.
Look out for a copy of LYLO (Les Yeux Les
Oreilles, or The Eyes, The Ears), an impressively
detailed weekly that lists concerts and
performances by genre and neighbourhood.
The tiny Korean eatery Jules et Shim, with
its tongue-in-cheek nod to Truffaut, epitomises
the new wave of restaurants along the St.
Martin canal. The eponymous owners serve up
a different bibimbap every day, featuring spicy
pork, marinated beef, chicken, prawn curry, or
veggies. Grab a Korean beer and take yours out
to the canal for an impromptu diner en plein
air. 22 Rue des Vinaigriers,
75010(+33-1-58201791).
DECEMBER 2013 I NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC TRAVELLER INDIA 53
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In
The lcehotel in Sweden, the largest of its kind in the world, is reconstructed in winter each year. Visitors are provided cold weather sleeping bags
and reindeer skins to sleep on.

ere l in
RESERVE EARLY FOR THESE POPULAR ICE HOTELS THAT PROVIDE HEART-WARMING
COMFORTS IN FRIGID CLIMES
HOTEL DE GLACE
Quebec, Canada
Hotel de Glace, the only ice hotel in North
America, is made ofl5,000 tons of snow
and 500 tons of ice. It has 19-foot ceilings
and furniture carved out of ice blocks. The
hotel will likely attract 1,40,000 visitors this
year with its 36 handcrafted, themed guest
rooms. An ice candelabra lit by fibre optics
hangs in the lobby. In the cafe, guests sit on
ice chairs cushioned with fur and sip hot
chocolate ( www.hoteldeglace-canada.com;
packagesfrom CAD 498ft30,000).
SORRISNIVA IGLOO HOTEL
Alta, Norway
Built every year along the banks of the
Alta River, this ice hotel offers a cold, crisp
taste of Norway. The world's northernmost
By DANIEL BORTZ
ice hotel boasts an ice chapel with frozen
benches draped in animal skins, an ice bar
that serves bright blue vodka in ice glasses,
and huskies for dogsledding. Beds in the 32
guest rooms are covered with reindeer hide.
Glimpse the beauty of the fjords' icy waters
aboard a snowmobile (www.sorrisniva.no;
packages from NOK 2,150ft20,000 ).
IGLOO VILLAGE
Engelberg, Switzerland
Sweeping views of the Swiss Alps and of
dark night skies glittering with stars are
some of what make the Igloo Village special.
A standard igloo can hold up to six guests.
The village rests peacefully in Engelberg,
a popular mountain resort town in central
Switzerland. It was built by Iglu-Dorf, a
company with similar igloo villages across
the country, as well as in France and
Austria (www.iglu-dorf.com;from CHF
150ftl 0,950 ).
ICEHOTEL
Lapland, Sweden
First built nearly 20 years ago, the largest
ice hotel in the world is constructed from
30,000 tons of"snis;' a mixture of snow
and ice, in Jukkasjarvi, Sweden, a small
village outside Kiruna with around 900
inhabitants and a thousand dogs. Each
year more than 50,000 guests flock to
Icehotel to stay in rooms with elaborate
interiors carved from Tome River ice.
A night time dogsledding tour through
the city may off er views of the northern
lights (www.icehotel.com;from SEK
2,350ft22,300 per head).
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56
INDIA
A BEVY OF REASONS TO
EMBRACE WINTER
~ N PRAISE OF WINTER
68
PHOTO ESSAY
CHILLING TRANSFORMATIONS
IN EASTERN LADAKH
72
UNITED KINGDOM
CHRISTMAS MARKETS BRING OUT
THE SEASON'S BEST
80
FINLAND
CELEBRATING THE FINE
ART OF FREEZING
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THERE'S A BEVY OF
BEAUTIFUL REASONS
TO EMBRACE WINTER
ININDIA
BY TUSHAR ABHICHANDANI
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IN FOCUS
~ n Praise of Winter
If you know where to look, chilly weather can bring warm cheer
had spent six years living
in Mumbai, periodically
scoffing at Mumbaikars
who pulled on sweaters
the moment the temperature
dropped below 18C. This isn't
winter, I'd claim with Dilliwala
arrogance, recalling the sweet
smell of the kadamb flower
that wafts through the capi-
tal's streets early in winter, the
sight of the watchman huddled
around his tiny bonfire late at
night, the afternoon picnics, the
evening barbecues, the warmth
of a cup of coffee in my hand.
When I finally moved back to
Delhi in 2011, I wasn't prepared
for karmic revenge. In the last
week of October the weather
was pleasant, but November
snuck up on me with the full
brunt of winter arriving, almost
overnight. I chased sunbeams
around my house, trying to
stay in the warmth as much as
possible. I was soon digging in
old, forgotten trunks to salvage
woollen clothing unused for six
years, and drinking dozens of
cups of piping-hot coffee, tea,
and soup to defrost my bones.
It was one of Delhi's coldest
winters in years. Darkness de-
scended by 5 p.m., chilly winds
always managed to find the
gaps in the doors, and the win-
dows fogged up when I cooked.
Living in a corner of Gurgaon,
I rarely left the house. This was
not the winter I had craved.
When March reared its sunny
head, my husband and I took a
break from the city and headed
to the hills. We plotted a jour-
ney through the back roads
of Shimla district, stopping at
small towns and smaller set-
tlements. We saw greenhouses
full of mushrooms in Solan, and
the buds that had just begun
to show on the apple trees of
Rajgarh. The mountains seemed
to be shrugging off the cloak of
winter, and tiny rivulets car-
ried melting snow and ice down
the slopes. I soaked up the sun
sitting on the back of our motor-

cycle as
we rode through
towns like Dibber,
Sainj, and Kotkhai.
Our destination was a
tiny, three-lane town called
Kharapathar that I'd randomly
selected for its location in
the orchard-draped Pabbar
Valley, and because it had an
HPTDC hotel.
But as we gained altitude, the
warmth slowly slid away. The
higher reaches were still firmly
in the clutches of an extended
winter. Tiny banks of snow
began to appear by the side of
the road. Cars struggled on the
slushy ice. The biting chill made
me hide behind my husband for
protection on the motorcycle.
As we rolled into Kharapathar,
the sun seemed to completely
give up and was little more than
a distant, pale orange circle. The
town itself was so tiny, its few
shops still shuttered, that we
might have missed it altogether
if it wasn't for the sight of the
Giri Ganga Resort, whose staff
was rather surprised to have
visitors in this weather. The
hotel hadn't
yet opened up
as winter was
still in the air, but a
room was quickly prepared
for us. The staff advised us to
have a quick bath before the
evening chill set in, and buck-
ets were filled for the morning
because the pipes were likely to
freeze overnight.
I was shivering and not very
happy. Sensing my distress,
the friendly hotel manager set
about making me comfort-
able. Placing a sofa in front of
a large window, he brought
a giant pot of ginger tea and
some steaming pakoras. As
the cold edged out of my body,
I began to see the magic of
a cold winter evening in the
mountains. A stillness filled the
valley before me as the fog lifted
into the folds of the mountains,
wrapping itself around the tops
of the deodar trees. Dispersed
lights twinkled in the distance,
and when I leaned to look
closely, my breath fogged up the
glass, making them disappear
altogether. A spicy rum toddy
followed. Snuggling up, my
husband and I sipped the warm-
ing liquid and watched the trees
and the valley disappear in
the moonlit fog. Winter was
suddenly attractive.
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The pipes didn't freeze that
night. And although the morn-
ing was frosty and crisp, the
manager talked us into hiking
up to the Giri Ganga temple.
A little picnic lunch was packed
and we set off on the trail.
Pine needles covered the path,
crunching softly under our feet.
A troop of monkeys eyed us
curiously. Halfway up, soft snow
began appearing on the trail
and soon it was completely cov-
ered with a white blanket. Dra-
matic icicles hung from exposed
roots of trees and somewhere
below, I could hear the rush of a
noisy river. The temple complex
was covered in snow, with nary
a soul in sight. All around us it
was silent and still, sacrosanct
without the summer crowds.
Bright red flags and old, grey
stone cut a dramatic picture
against the dazzling brilliance
of the snow. We clambered up
the hillside to the source of the
Giri Ganga river, filling our bot-
tle with the cold, sweet water.
On the way down, we slid and
rolled, shrieking with delight as
the snow got into our hair and
jackets. Being outdoors and
active in the icy weather was
invigorating, especially since we
knew we would return to mugs
of delicious ginger tea. Over the
next two days, in the unexpect-
ed sharpness of frosty morn-
ings and the stillness of chilly
evenings, I rediscovered my love
for winter.
-By Neha Dara
IN FOCUS
BEYOND THE
ORDINARY
Offbeat experiences to escape
your comfort zone
During winter, when passes close due to heavy snow, walking on the.frozen Zanskar River is the only way to reach Padum, the main
town of the Zanskar region. This route has become the famous and arduous Chadar trek. A road connecting Darcha in Lahaul and
Padum, which is due to open in 2015, will completely transform this region.
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n d i a ~ longest cave system, the 25-km-long Krem Liat Prah, was discovered in Meghalaya's Jaintia Hil"ls in 2006.
TREKTOSANDAKPHU
The trail to Sandakphu, the
highest peak on the Singalila
Ridge, is one of Darjeeling's
toughest trekking routes.
Located on the edge of the
Singalila National Park, the
3,780-metre-high peak is
famous for its panoramic view
of the Himalayas. Four of
the five highest peaks in the
world-Everest, Kanchenjunga,
Lhotse, and Makalu-are
visible along the trail. The
trekking season lasts from
October to May, but for those
looking to experience the
extremes of winter, December
to February is the time to go.
Many trekkers tend to camp
overnight around Sandakphu
to catch the early morning view
of the four peaks.
LAZEATKHAJnAR
This meadow in Himachal
Pradesh's Chamba district
is surrounded by dense pine
forests. It features a button-
shaped plateau with a lake that
has an island at the centre. This
combination of three alpine
features has led to it being
christened "Mini Switzerland".
Though there are brief spells
of snowfall, winters here
aren't as harsh as in the rest
of Himachal Pradesh. Hike
through the Kalatop Khajjiar
Sanctuary that surrounds the
meadow. Visit the Khajji Nag
temple, famous for the wooden
images of the Pandavas and
Kauravas hanging from its
ceiling. The main reason for
Khajjiar's popularity is that it
affords travellers a tranquil,
isolated winter experience
without having to travel to
extreme altitudes or locations.
WALK ON THE FROZEN
ZAN SKAR
The Zanskar river has some of
the most thrilling white-water
rafting routes in the world.
But during the winter, it gives
way to a whole new adventure
sport- trekking on ice. The sole
route connecting the villages
in the Zanskar Valley to the
rest of Ladakh is known to
travellers as the Chadar trek.
The nine-day journey through
the canyon goes past Buddhist
monasteries and frozen
waterfalls. It is considered one
of the most difficult routes in
the world because of altitudes
that go as high as 3,850 m and
temperatures that can drop to
-35C. The ice can be thin in
some areas, so it is important to
hire guides.
CAVING IN MEGHALAYA
Meghalaya is home to some of
the deepest and longest caves
in the subcontinent, some of
which are still unexplored.
Negotiating the caves can be a
challenge even for experts, but
a good option for beginners is
the 7-km-long Krem Mawmluh
cave near Cherrapunji. The
hike involves walking through
water pools past dramatic
stalactites and stalagmites,
while avoiding run-ins with the
occasional bat. The ideal time
to visit is between December
and March when the region's
rivers are at their shallowest.
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IN FOCUS
SLALOMING
THROUGH THE
HIMALAYAS
Five frosty skiing destinations that
offer a great workout
A range of slopes that suit different skill levels and one of the highest cable cars in the world, have made Gulmarg India:, most popular
skiing destination.
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Beginners can learn skiing at Solang Valley,just 14 km from Manali.
NARKANDA, HIMACHAL
PRADESH
N arkanda is one of India's
oldest skiing destinations.
Located 64 km northeast
of Shimla, it has numerous
slopes, from gentle inclines
for beginners to steep tracks
for experts. The Himachal
Pradesh Tourism Development
Corporation offers ski packages
with courses, equipment, and
accommodation. The best time
to visit is between December
and March, when there is
plenty of snowfall.
GULMARG, JAMMU &
KASHMIR
One of Gulmarg's most
prominent attractions is the
Gulmarg Gondola, the highest
ski lift in the world. The first
phase goes to Kongdori station,
located at an altitude of 3,099
metres. The second goes all
the way to Apharwat peak, at
a height of 4,200 m. Apharwat
has some of the most difficult
skiing routes in the country.
Another recently-added
attraction is heli-skiing: expert
skiers are flown to a peak in
a helicopter so that they can
ski back down. Apart from
the regular routes, Gulmarg
also has several routes that
experienced skiers can explore
with the help of guides. A
bonus: It has one of the longest
skiing seasons in the country,
from December to mid-April.
SOLANG VAI.I.EY,
HIMACHAL PRADESH
In February, hordes of skiing
enthusiasts, both amateur and
professional, head to Solang
Valley for the Alpine Premier
League-one of India's biggest
skiing competitions. Thanks to
infrastructure projects in recent
years, like the Solang ropeway,
it has become a major skiing
destination. While Solang
does not have many extreme
or unexplored slopes, there are
several ski routes suitable for
both beginners and experts.
The Atal Bihari Vajpayee
Institute of Mountaineering
and Allied Sports conducts
certificate courses in skiing
here. Several private instructors
and guides are available. The
best time to visit is between
January and February, when
snowfall is at its peak.
PHUNL SIKKIM
Located near the Yumthang
Valley of Sikkim at a height
of 3,500 metres, Phuni has
some of the world's highest ski
routes. However, since it's one
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of the country's newest skiing
destinations, infrastructure
is still rudimentary. When
planning a trip, it is advisable
to organise guides and
instructors well in advance.
The closest available
accommodation is in Lachung
village, which is about an hour's
drive away.
AULLUTTARAKHAND
The ski slopes of Auli rise
from 2,500 to 3,050 metres
above sea level. They offer a
panoramic view of some of the
highest peaks of the Himalayas,
including Nanda Devi, Kam et,
Mana Parvat, and Dunagiri.
Auli can be accessed via road
or a 4 km-long ropeway from
Joshimath. It also has a ski-lift
connecting the lower and upper
slopes, making it easier to do
multiple ski runs.
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IN FOCUS
ESCAPE TO
THE WOODS
From the Little Rann of Kutch
to Arunachal Pradesh, these
wildlife parks come alive in
cold weather
Snow leopards in the Himalayas generally hunt bharal (blue sheep) and ibex. While resting, the leopard uses its tail like a mu.filer,
wrapping it around its neck and face.
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The Wild Ass Sanctuary in the Little Rann of Kutch has the added attraction of winged visitors like flamingoes, pelicans, and cranes in
the winter months.
NAMDAPHANATIONAL
PARK,ARUNACHAL
PRADESH
The lowest point in the
N amdapha National Park is
200 metres above sea level,
while the highest is 4,571
metres. This dramatic range
of altitudes gives N amdapha
the rare distinction of having
tropical, temperate, and alpine
forests within its area. As a
result, its residents include 60
per cent of the species found
in any checklist of Indian
mammals. It is one of the few
places in the world that has
four species of big cats-snow
leopard, clouded leopard,
common leopard, and the tiger.
It also has over 500 species of
birds, including some that are
only found in northeast India.
Jeep and elephant safaris are
available in the park, while
trekking is also an option
for those who want to head
into less-visited territory.
There are government-run
lodges inside the park and
camping accommodations
are also available.
POBITORA Wll.DLIFE
SANCTUARY, ASSAM
An hour's drive from Guwahati,
Pobitora is a relatively small
sanctuary. Large parts of it are
covered by marshland, making
it the perfect habitat for the
one-horned rhinoceros and
thousands of birds. Between
November and March, several
species of migratory birds visit
the sanctuary. They include
the greylag goose, grey heron,
great egret, and large-billed
crow. Visitors can take jeep
and elephant safaris. Though
accommodation is available
within and around the
sanctuary, most people tend
to visit Pobitora Wildlife
Sanctuary as a daytrip from the
city of Guwahati.
WILD ASS SANCTUARY,
GUJARAT
Deserts and salt flats might
not be the first things to come
to mind when you think of
sanctuaries, but the Wild Ass
Sanctuary in the Little Rann
of Kutch is an interesting
exception. Spread over 5,000
sq km, it is the only place in
the country where the Indian
wild ass survives. During the
winter, the sanctuary is home
to hundreds of kinds of birds,
including migratory species
such as the ceraneous vulture,
demoiselle crane, blue-tailed
bee-eater, and houbara bustard.
Camel and jeep safaris are
available from the nearby
towns of Dhrangadhra, Patdi
and Zainabad.
NEORA VALLEYNATIONAL
PARK, WEST BENGAL
Rising to an altitude of 3,000
metres, Neora Valley National
Park is a region with extreme
biodiversity. The national
park has leopards, clouded
leopards, Himalayan tahrs,
black bears, civets, and the
adorable red panda. It also has
one of the most diverse bird
populations in India. Rare
species that have been spotted
here include the satyr tragopan,
rufous-throated partridge, and
pygmy wren-babbler. The only
way to explore the park is to
trek through it. A number of
camping trips are organised
by private operators between
November and March.
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IN FOCUS
JOIN THE
FESTIVITIES
Events and celebrations that
warm the spirit and put local
culture in the spotlight
The Hornbill Festival's open-air show area hosts tribal peeformances by day and rock concerts by local bands at night.
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Elaborate sand sculptures are created during the annual Puri Beach festival.
HORNBJI.L FESTIVAL,
KOHIMA, NAGALAND
Every December, the tribes
ofNagaland come together
to showcase their cultural
diversity at the Hornbill
Festival. Arts, crafts, music,
and culture from the region are
on display during the ten-day
event. One of the biggest draws
is the Horn bill National Rock
Concert, which attracts bands
from all over India.
PURI BEACH FESTIVAL,
PURI, ODISHA
In November, the coastal town
of Puri showcases the varied
talents of the region. For five
days, there are classical and
folk performances, along with
fashion shows and concerts.
The biggest draws are the
sand-sculpting competition
on the beach and the fireworks
displays at night.
KOLAYAT CATTLE FAIR,
BIKANER, RAJASTHAN
Held at the start of winter
every year-usually early
November-the Kolayat Cattle
Fair is an interesting mix of
religion and commerce. It
attracts pilgrims eager to take
a dip in the holy Kolayat Lake
during Kartik Poornima, as
well as people looking to sell
or buy cattle. The animals
are decked up and auctioned
during the festival.
COCIDN CARNIVAL,KOCID,
KERALA
A reminder of Kochi's
Portuguese past, the Cochin
Carnival is held over the
last ten days of December.
Events take place across the
city,BM and include a tug-of-
war, beach volleyball, bicycle
racing, concerts, classical
performances, and parades.
KILA RAIPUR SPORTS
FESTIVAL, KILA RAIPUR,
PUNJAB
Held in February every year, the
Kila Raipur Sports Festival is
often called the rural Olympics
of India. It is a festival that tests
the limits of rural athletes and
their animals. There are dog
races, camel races, and tractor
races, though the most fanfare
is reserved for the bullock-
cart race. Some truly oddball
competitions include lifting
bicycles with the teeth and
racing on bicycles with
burning tyres.
JAISALMER DESERT
FESTIVAL, JAISALMER,
RAJASTHAN
The J aisalmer Desert Festival
showcases Rajasthan's
traditional desert life. Held
for three days in February
each year (12-14 Feb in 2014),
the festival has a number
of events involving camels,
including camel decorating,
camel-fur cutting, and camel
polo. Non-competitive events
include gymnastics on camels
and camel formation dancing
accompanied by a band. There
are also music and cultural
events for those looking to
spend time away from the
humped creatures.
THE GREAT ELEPHANT
MARCH, KERALA
Every January, a number of
elephants are decked up and
paraded from Thrissur to
Thiruvananthapuram as part
of The Great Elephant March.
The parade is accompanied
by religious and cultural
activities at each stop of this
three-day f es ti val.
HAMPI UTSAV, HAMPL
KARNATAKA
This festival showcases the
cultural traditions of the
Vijayanagara Empire (starting
10-13 Jan 2014). Dances,
dramas, and puppet shows,
along with popular instruments
of the time are used to recreate
the era. Elephants, horses, and
men are dressed in the attire
of the Vijayanagara period
and a marketplace is set up to
showcase traditional markets of
the time.
IN FOCUS
-----
~ n P1aise of Winter
Text & Photographs By Sankar Sridhar
NorbuLa, a pass at an
= altitudeof16,000feet,
offers a grand view of the
Tso Moriri Lake. According
to Changpa "legend, the
great lakes of Ladakh don't
freeze gradu.ally. They.freeze
overnight during cold snaps,
when the temperature can
drop by more than 10C in
a matter of minutes.
PagalNallah, a stream on
= the way to Pangong Tso, lies
in winter's grip. Like at the
lake of Tso Kar, when the
water freezes, the marshes
in the middle of the stream
become accessible, offering
untouched reservoirs of
grassfor herbivores in the
season of scarcity.
A herd of kiang, Tibetan
= wild ass, makes its way
across thefar bank ofTso
Kar. During winter, the
anima"ls are perpetually
on the move in search of
patches of grass and shrub
in the.frozen landscape.
Carnivores and scavengers
= such as the redfox don't
mind winter too much.
Pika, the tailless rodents
that don't hibernate and
spend most of their waking
hours basking in the sun,
make easy pickingsfor the
red fox.
I
By Slueya Sen-Handley
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IN FOCUS
Praise of Winter
We were on tiptoe, craning to get a better look. Around us thousands
jostled for the best view of the dazzling Christmas tableau on the
first storey of Anson's, the biggest department store in prosperous 1980s
Manila. It was the most important time of year for devout Roman Catholic
Philippines and there were church bells pealing everywhere.
But as this was a country that knew how to have fun too, there was
much glitz and bonhomie. A visit to see Anson's automated Christmas
display was part of our family's annual ritual. In the middle of the
crush, one balmy evening in 1983, were three Indians-my mother,
four-year-old sister, and me. We watched in wonder as nimble elves
danced to the rousing sounds of an illuminated choir of angels, in a
swirl of fake snow. Then a cheer went up as a blur of red and gold
jingled into the midst of the tableau. Santa had arrived-rotund, rubi-
cund, and jolly-with his retinue of frolicking reindeer. It was exciting
for us little girls and for our mother, but the day was waning and with
a festive dinner waiting for us at home, we had no choice but to tear
ourselves away from that magical spectacle:'
I interrupted my story as my children's attention was momentar-
ily caught by a vendor in elf costume rolling a trolley full of seasonal
goodies past us. On a frosty morning in early December, we were on
the Christmas Special train from Nottingham to Lincoln for the big-
gest Christmas fair in Europe. A month ago we had decided to take
our kids there to enjoy a truly classic British Christmas. The togged-up
train put us in the Yuletide mood, and my story of Christmases past
reinforced the festive feeling. "Tell us more;' said my young son.
"We got home to the delights of a traditional Filipino Christmas
dinner-honey and cinnamon-glazed ham, chicken adobo, cuts of
lechon (roast suckling pig) and sticky-sweet coconut lumpias.
Gathered around our modest but twinkling tree after dinner, my
parents caught up on their reading while my sister and I kept a close
eye on the gifts beneath the tree:'
Glimpsing the soaring spires of Lincoln Cathedral, I pushed ahead
with my story. 'i\. few years later we returned to Calcutta where, despite
my mother's best efforts, recreating those fabulous Filipino Christ-
mases proved impossible. We would scour Gariahat unsuccessfully for
Christmas trees and baubles as New Market felt a tad distant. And
while Park Street was very merry come Christmas, the rest of Calcutta
didn't necessarily follow suit. Still, my mother was a great believer
in festive fun, whatever its antecedents, so Christmas in our home
Hogmanay is a three-day-long Scottish New Year celebration that kicks off with a Viking torchlight procession. Over 25,000 people take
part, creating a "river of fire" through streets.
~ n i t e d Kingdom
continued to be celebrated with delicious cooing over the children all the while. And
food, good company, and even carol
singing. But the splendour was miss-
ing and so was Santa with his caper-
ing crew. I felt like I might never ever
experience a perfect Christmas again:'
I wrapped up my account as we
walked into Lincoln's central square.
Though their brows had furrowed at
my story, the children were instantly
swept up in the thrill of the Christ-
mas fete. The fair swamped the city of
Lincoln. Its cynosure is its an-
cient cathedral with Tudor luminaries
We got home to the delights
of a traditional Filipino
Christmas dinner-honey
and cinnamon-glazed ham,
chicken adobo, cuts oflechon
(roast suckling pig) and sticky-
sweet coconut lumpias
then our little girl spotted the most
magical carousel shimmering at the
end of the street. She was awestruck
by the antique carriages, each of
which was a red-and-gold sleigh.
The following weekend we found
ourselves at majestic Chatsworth
House in the Derbyshire Dales. The
Duke of Devonshire's estate is consid-
ered the grandest in Britain, perfectly
placed in green, rolling Derbyshire.
It is also believed to be the mansion
buried within. Parliament was held there
in the 14th century, and The Da Vinci Code
was filmed in its halls. Just across the cobbled square was Lincoln
Castle, a drab museum with a magnificent facade. Walking past the
ruined abbey and rows of pastel-coloured homes, we stopped for a
one-sided natter with the statue of Lincoln's favourite son, Victorian
poet Tennyson. But the kids were quick to remind us why we were
there. So we plunged into the packed heart of the fair, dipping into
festive stalls, picking up Swedish baubles, German cake, and quick
gulps of Irish cream (hot cocoa for the kids) to keep warm on the icy
day. In a narrow snicket, we were ambushed by ladies in Regency
dress, who arm-twisted us into buying their cinnamon-spiced nuts,
on which Jane Austen based Darcy's
estate Pemberley. With its extensive gardens,
immense orangery bursting with every kind of
flora, Elizabethan hunting lodge, and ornate Italian fountains (their
waters frozen into sparkling crystal shards on that bright winter's day),
it was dazzling. Four and a half centuries ago, Mary Queen of Scots
was incarcerated here by her jailor and lover, the Earl of Shrewsbury.
Our own Warren Hastings' Chatsworth connection is evident in the
rooms full of purloined Oriental treasure.
In the spectacular entrance hall stood a massive, magnificent
Christmas tree. The red-carpeted stairs had glittering tinsel and
holly around each balustrade. Chatsworth was celebrating a Geor-
gian Christmas and everything from furnishings to festive decor, to
Edinburgh:, wet and windy winters don't discourage locals and tourists from being part of one of the biggest Christmas and New Year:,
celebrations in the UK.
IN FOCUS
the sheets of music at the grand piano was so elaborate they looked like art. Up the hill
in keeping with the theme. Even the
dinner laid out in the vast dining hall
was Georgian.
In the farm shop, there were festal
favourites on sale-cranberry sauce
and chestnuts, sage and sausage
stuffing for the Christmas turkey,
fruity festive cake and mince pies, bot-
tles of eggnog and mulled wine. And to
the children's delight, shelf upon shelf
of elf-, snowman- and Santa-shaped
chocolates. Returning to the car with
Returning to the car with
more goodies than we could
consume in one Christmas, we
found ourselves embroiled in a
snowball.fight with a group of
children, ducking and diving
behindfrost-laced bushes
to the quiet family church there was a
joyful trail of traditional decorations.
The freezing winter wind loped up
the hill with us, ringing the bells in
the trees, rocking the little wooden
sleighs that led to the church door.
We found Santa in the Victorian sta-
bles, smelling of damp and hay. Yet, so
warm were Father Christmas and his
helpers with their genial chatter and
thoughtful presents, that the odour
and bone-rattling cold were quickly
more goodies than we could consume in one
Christmas, we found ourselves embroiled in a
snowball fight with a group of children, ducking and diving behind the
frost-laced bushes of the icy parking lot. Relieved to have held on to
our wobbling pile of luscious purchases through the boisterous snow
battle, we went home dripping but delighted with our hoard.
But Christmas isn't complete for kids without a session with Santa.
For this, we travelled to the splendidly shabby Calke Abbey in Leices-
tershire. That year, they were playing on their gone-to-seed wartime
look. The intriguingly melancholy dining room was arranged to look
as if a bombing raid had sent the family scurrying to the cellars, leav-
ing their festive dinner untouched. The dust-covered furniture was
askew, the shutters off their hinges and the walls had damp patches
forgotten. We all agreed that Calke Abbey
with its heart-warming conviviality easily out-
did grander places in festive cheer.
However, no Yuletide outing can finish without food, so we braved
more mud and biting wind to join the bustle in the large barn. Along-
side handcrafted wreaths, spirits and chatter were tables piled high
with Calke's famous reindeer pies. Finding a warm corner, we were
ready to tuck in when we noticed our children's reluctance. "Is Santa's
reindeer in there?" our son asked anxiously. Despite our reassurance
that these were made from farm-reared reindeer and that Santa's
squad with its gift-transporting duties was far too important to ever
become pie, they were clearly not convinced.
We couldn't let the festivities end on that sombre note, so we
Parts of Chatsworth House in the Derbyshire Dales have been remodelled to bring to life the world of"The Lion, The Witch and The Ward-
robe" from C.S. Lewis' The Chronicles ofNarnia.
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plumped for an impromptu trip to Edinburgh to see the year out.
Edinburgh is an elegant city with grand old architecture, mouth-
watering seafood and the wettest, windiest weather in the British
Isles. In the depth of winter, we knew it would not be comfortable
but the annual Christmas market and Hogmanay festival did promise
colour, excitement and the perfect end to our classic British Christmas.
Bundled up in our warmest woollies, we jostled with thousands for a
safe perch on Edinburgh Castle's medieval walls just as the torchlight
procession began. To the beat of drums and pipes marched Vikings,
Romans, and men in Tartan kilts, the national costume of Scotland.
There were even a few "Bravehearts" in blue face paint. As night fell,
Edinburgh lit up like an enormous firecracker. In fact, there were
colossal crackers going off everywhere, the noise mingling with the
cacophonous warbling of drunken revellers. Manoeuvring our way out
of the crowd, we returned to our room where a scrumptious dinner
and bottle of bubbly were waiting.
Just before midnight, with the kids asleep, my husband and
I stood at the Victorian sash windows and listened to the count-
down from the square, clinking glasses as the clock struck
12 and the cheer went up. I knew then that I had found the
perfect Christmas I had been looking for since I left the Philippines.
Shreya Sen-Handley is a former journalist and television producer
who now writes and illustrates for British and Indian media, when
she's not tending to two toddlers, a husband, and a home in Sherwood
Forest, Nottingham.
Kingdom
Delicate, glass tree ornaments are solil at Christmas stalls
across Europe. Pine cones, reindeer, snowflakes, and minia-ture
nutcrackers are especially popular.
Built by the Romans, Steep Hill is a vibrant street.full of pubs, restaurants, and shops. It leads up to Lincoln Cathedral, which is
the backdrop for the city's Christmas festivities.
IN FOCUS
Praise of Winter
Stolkn, the German Christmas cake (top left)
covered with marnpan and icing sugar, is said
t;o represent baby Jesus wrapped in swaddling
clothes; Visitors buy heart-shaped gingerbread
(top right) and Santa chocolates (bottom left),
and sip on mulkd wine (middle right) and
eggnog at outdoor winter markets; At a
traditional English Christmas dinner, a whol,e
roasted turkey is the centrepiece (bottom right).
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C1.Ass1c BRmsH CHRIS GUIDE
LINCOLN CHRISTMAS MARKET
The Vitals 5-8 December; hours vary; entry
free; lincoln-christmasmarket.co.uk
Getting there Finding parking in Lincoln city
centre during the Christmas Market is diffi-
cult. It's convenient to take one of the spe-
cial trains that are organised from most U.K.
cities to Lincoln during the fair. Or use the
Christmas Market park-and-ride service at
per car, which operates from the
Lincolnshire Showground on the A15 just
north of Lincoln. There is a dedicated park-
and-ride service for people with disabilities.
CHATSWORTH
The Vitals From 9 November-23 December;
hours vary; house and garden entry for adults
senior citizens and students 14/
children family (2 adults
and up to 3 children) www
chatsworth.org
Getting there Chatsworth is in rural Der-
byshire, a 30-minute drive from the nearest
town Chesterfield. When tickets to the house
are booked online, car parking is free, other-
wise it costs There are a number
of buses to the estate, including direct ones
from Chesterfield and Sheffield, and National
Express or Transpeak services from London
and Manchester.
Note Additional activities like the Narnia Tour
three-course winter lunch
nativity performance and din-
ner wreath-making session
etc. cost extra.
CALKEABBEY
The Vitals From 5-22 December; house and
grounds entry for adults
children family
www.nationaltrust.org. uk/calke-abbey
Gettingthere There are no direct buses so it's
best to drive down or take a train from the
nearest city of Derby or the closest town of
Burton-on-Trent.
Note Regular house tours may not be avail-
able from 5-8 December, during Christmas
celebrations. Additional activities like a visit
to Father Christmas in his grotto
including present), Christmas craft fair (adult
child family 12/
plus park admission), and Christmas
concert cost extra.
EDINBURGH HOGMANAY STREET PARTY
The Vitals From 31 December, stages live
from 9 p.m.-1 a.m., no entry after 11 p.m.;
entry plus booking
fee; www.edinburghfestivals.eo.uk/events/
edinburghs-hogmanay-street-party 3
Getting there Scotland's capital is a major
travel hub and there are night coaches from
major U.K. cities as well as many trains to
Edinburgh's Waverley Station.
Note The party takes place at Princess Street
and surrounding streets, against the back-
drop of the Edinburgh castle. There are live
bands, DJs, giant screens, outdoor bars,
and fireworks.
CHRISTMAS IN LONDON
Kew Garden Illuminated Trail
Walk on a magical Christmas trail through
the gardens. The Christmas Village and
market are free, but only open on Illumi-
nated Trail days. Santa's Woodland Grotto,
Victorian Carousel, and rides cost extra.
The Vitals From 28 November-4 January;
open 4.30-10 p.m.; entry for adults 12.50/
children (free under 5 years),
family
www.kew.org
Hyde Park Winter
Wonderland
Entry to this well-
known and much-
loved attraction is
free but visitors
need to purchase
tickets for the rides.
Entry to popular at-
tractions like the
Ice Rink, Magical
Ice Kingdom, and
Giant Wheel can be
booked online.
The Vitals From 22
November-5 Janu-
ary; open 10 a.m.-
10 p.m.; entry free;
hydeparkwinterwon-
derland.com
Tudor Christmas
at Hampton Court
Palace
year, but a large groups can book a private
tour for up to 35 people;
roughly per head).
The Vitals From 7-8 December, 27 Decem-
ber-1 January; open 10 a.m.-4.30 p.m.;
entry for adults children
between 5-16 years family
www.hrp.org.uk/Hampton-
CourtPalace/WhatsOn/tudorcookery
The Snowman by Birmingham Repertory
Soak in the Christmas magic watching this
stage production of the famous children's
book by Raymond Briggs at the Peacock
Theatre on Portugal Street.
The Vitals Playing until 5 January; shows at
11 a.m., 2.30 p.m. and 7 p.m.; duration
1 hour 45 minutes, including 15-minute
interval; tickets from per head;
www.london-theatreland.co. u k/theatres/
peacock-theatre/the-snowman.php
Note Family ticket prices apply for two adults
and up to three children (under 16 years).
Food archaeologists
revive Tudor kitch-
ens of Henry Vlll's
court with tradi-
tional recipes. The
popular Ghost Tours
are sold out for this
The aromas ofhot,freshly roasted chestnuts and other baked goods
are hard to resist at Christmas markets.

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~ I n Praise of Winter
The toilet is right in front of me, and I'm dying to go, but it's too cold
to pull my pants down.
For the record, it's an attractive toilet, one of the prettiest I've seen.
It's located in the middle of a remote wilderness in the Harne region
in interior Finland, on a densely forested isthmus between lakes Pyha
and Nasi. The loo itself is a tiny but charming hut built of wooden
planks, painted red, and with a heart-shaped window in the door, the
perfect place for private affairs. The latrine compartment is open at
the back where the dirty business falls down, so that any foul smell
is swept away by winds, disappearing into the Finnish wilds, possibly
scaring off lurking polar bears.
I'm on holiday, and I've borrowed a friend's cottage as far away from
civilisation as possible. However, I can't quite relax. On this lovely
evening, the temperature hovers around zero degrees Celsius but it
feels much colder this far away from the comfort of electric lights. The
outdoorsy toilet has neither running water nor heating. The candle in
my handheld lantern flickers.
I try to fight the cold by telling myself that feeling frozen is noth-
ing but a state of mind and that people hereabouts have been using
similar eco-friendly toilets for ages. Even in the heart of winter, when
temperatures go down to minus 25C-and that's in the daytime.
Night temperatures dipping as low as minus 50C have been re-
corded in the Lapland Province at Salla, a small northern Finnish mu-
nicipality. It markets itself as a tourist destination with the intriguing
slogan "In The Middle ofNowhere" and where one of the main annual
events is the "Nothing Will Happen Week". Finnish humour aside,
Salla was where one of the decisive battles of the Winter War, featuring
Finns on skis against the mighty Soviet Army, was fought in the winter

ofl939-40. And boy, those soldiers must have frozen their butts off!
I finally do my business as a matter of national pride. I was born
here, in the nearby tiny Finnish township of Forssa, and repeating
this fact to my disobedient genes convinces them that using this loo is
therefore my birthright and duty.
My native Finland is a smallish country with a population of five
million people scattered around an area of 3,04,623 sq km of heavily
forested land. Approximately 75 per cent of it is covered in trees, a
westerly extension of the Russian taiga. Besides, one-third of Finland
lies north of the Arctic Circle. If I had lost my way while getting to the
forest loo, there's a good chance I'd never meet another human again.
However, should you ever meet Finns, you'll discover they are a har-
dy people descended from an ancient Uralic tribe, speaking a language
that is thought to have structural likeness to the Japanese and Dravid-
ian tongues. The Finns stick to their traditions: laconic manner, sen-
timental tango music reflecting the melancholic Finnish post-World
War mentality, steam baths, severe alcoholism, and high suicide rates.
There's an oft-repeated anecdote of two Finnish men meeting
to have a good time. As they uncork their vodka bottles, one says,
"Cheers, then:' The other replies, ~ e we going to talk or drink?" The
gloomy autumns and long, lonely winters are supposedly the cause of
this introverted manner.
I've returned to Finland, and more specifically the small town of
Forssa, to poke around at my own roots after decades spent in the
tropics. I've come to look at the hospital where I was born and to
walk through the dark forests where I spent my childhood years being
scared of trolls and other supernatural creatures, and to see if I can
remember anything else of those long ago days.
~ i n l a n d
Reindeer (top) grazing in the northern province of Lapland are one of the main reasons why tourists visit theArctic Circle;
Helsinki is the capital of Finland and the main harbour (below) on the south coast for both cargo shipping and passenger traffic.
,......
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During winter, when roads are blocketf
by snow, residents have to rely Of
traditional means of transport such aa
sleds pulled by hardy husky dogs.
Initially, everything felt really nice: cool weather, fresh air, and the
amazing natural spectacle of the onset of winter. Maple, oak, and birch
trees become naked, gnarled skeletons standing out against the thick
carpet of yellow, red, and golden brown leaves.
As the days grow darker it is easy to believe in magical beings like
trolls or Santa Claus.
Midwinter, there is feeble sunlight only for an hour or two. At the
end of September, the nights become longer than the days, and a few
weeks later, in October, snow begins to fall. It goes on falling until
March, sometimes into May if it's a freaky year.
The snow adds beauty in the darkness, covering everything with a
shimmering whiteness. It's a miraculous material from a child's point
of view. Snowmen, snow castles, and snow balls to throw at friends
and enemies alike make for creative fun.
But the one thing that I had managed to forget, and suddenly re-
membered now, was how cold it gets as soon as autumn starts to turn
into winter.
Winters can be a formidable enemy of humans. One's snot freezes.
Icicles and snow fall off sloping roofs, killing people-in fact a rooftop
avalanche almost smashed me once, long ago. It is no wonder, there-
fore, that those who survive this hostile weather love that generous
bringer of gifts, Santa Claus. Santa is known among Finns as Joulu-
pukki or the Goat of Christmas, suggesting that he was worshipped
here in a pagan form before Saint Nicholas, or Claus for short, became
the object of Christian winter feasts.
The typical Santa figure-bearded man clad in homespun clothes
and knitted red cap-is based on the folksy tonttu, a dwarfish gnome-
like spirit living under peoples' houses. If you're good to it and put out
a bowl of porridge every Christmas, it'll act like a watchdog, keeping
evil at bay and looting your neighbour's larder to fill your fridge with
~ i n l a n d
free food and beer. Neglect it and it'll ignore you too, and won't bother
to wake you up if your house catches fire.
The modern avatar of the tonttu remains the only supernatural entity
Finns take seriously. It is said that Santa's top-secret James Bond-style
workshop, where toys for kids are made, is hidden inside the 1,630-
foot high Korvatunturi Mountain right at the border with Russia.
According to my GPS, that is 800 km from where I am right now, but
as we all know, Santa-just like James Bond-operates globally.
Santa gets 7,00,000 request letters a year, which means that the
Finnish postal department virtually lives off Santa's fame in these days
when post offices elsewhere are shutting down due to lack of business.
The postal department maintains an official webpage at www.santa-
claus.posti.fi with guidelines for those who want to become Santa's
pen pals. Tourists can even stay at the official Santa Claus Village near
the Arctic town of Rovaniemi, where Santa's mailroom, incidentally, is
located next to the airport (santaclausvillage.info).
It sounds like a fairy tale, doesn't it? I too was a staunch believer in
Santa as a child, but I couldn't help noticing one curious thing: every
Christmas, just before Santa was expected to drop by, my dad would
have to go to the loo. Year after year he missed Santa's visits, which
irked me a lot, until I put one and one together. My dad was leading a
double life ... Santa and my dad must be one and the same!
The other thing that keeps Finns alive during those long, cold win-
ters is the sauna. An estimated two and a half million saunas cater to
five million Finns. Even if the entire population takes a bath at the
same time, visitors needn't be afraid of ever being left without a seat.
In theory, Finnish saunas are a distant relative of Turkish hamams,
but are actually nothing like the spacious architectural structures in
Istanbul. Nor are they similar to the clinical saunas found at interna-
tional spas. The Finnish sauna is usually a small wood-panelled cabin,
For the Finns, saunas are akin to cafes in winter. They are the place where they meet friends, sip a beverage, and generally have a good time.
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IN FOCUS
~ I n Praise of Winter
almost pitch dark, lit by a single candle and a wood-fired stove. In the
old days saunas were set at a safe distance from the main house-just
in case the sauna caught fire, your home wouldn't burn down with
it. The best saunas are usually by a lake, so that you can take a dip
in cold water when the sauna gets too hot. However, modern saunas
tend to run on electricity and have a thermostat to control the heat, so
nowadays you also find them in basements of apartment buildings.
But this particular sauna I'm talking about, in the forest north of
Forssa, is where I used to bathe as a kid.
And yes, let me assure you that a sauna remains the best cure for
wintertime blues. Thoroughly frozen after my visit to the loo, I hit the
sauna to thaw my bones. The heat makes my curdled blood flow again.
The main challenge was to undress outside in the ice-cold night.
The typical sauna has a three-level set of wooden bleachers: first
timers are advised to occupy the bottom one because the higher you
go the more mind-blasting the heat gets.
Among men, it is a popular sport to throw ladles of water at the
kiuas, a wood-heated stove stacked with hot rocks, and create loyly,
hissing clouds of steam. It may seem like torture, but this is the way
men befriend each other here. Women go to the sauna separately, so
I'm not sure if they also do the loyly one-upmanship thing.
Inside, the temperature can easily cross 90C, which means that the
difference between outside and inside temperatures is around 100C,
if not more. After a while in the sauna, I can't breathe anymore and
scoot out to cool off. If there was snow on the ground, I would have
happily rolled in it. Instead I fumble about in the dark outside the
sauna, trying to locate the cans of Finnish beer I had picked up at the
supermarket on my way to the forest, and greedily suck down the ice-
cold Lapin Kulta.
This is how the Finns do it. First you purify yourself on the outside
with hot steam, and then you wash your insides with cold beer. After
one beer, the sauna suddenly seems attractive again and it's time to go
indoors for the next round of loyly.
Zac O'Yeah lives in Bengaluru, India and has worked as a travel
writer for over two decades. This was his first return to his roots, to
write about the country of his birth. His last book in English was Mr.
Majestic! The tout of Bengaluru (Hachette 2012).
SAUNA MATTERS
In Finland every hotel, public bathhouse, home, and cottage has a
sauna, so finding one is never a problem. Having a sauna bath is a
social custom and a good way to get to know Finns. However, as
ladies and gents usually bathe separately, you will not get to know
any Finnish ladies in the sauna if you are a gent. Avoid big meals
and hard liquor before a sauna, as this can precipitate a heart at-
tack. Finns usually steam before dinner and only have beer during
breaks. At public bathhouse saunas, visitors must shower before
going in. Place a towel on the wooden bleacher before sitting, to
avoid scorching your privates. If being nude makes you uncom-
fortable wrap yourself in a towel. However, this will make you feel
hotter. A first-time visitor should sit as far away from the stove as
possible, since the hot steam can cause burns. If somebody offers
to whip you with birch twigs (vihta), this isn't anything more than
common practice to make the skin breathe. Finns usually steam
for 10-15 minutes, take a break, and return for another round or
two. Newbies can spend as long or as short a time as they like. The
finishing touch is to wash with soap, usually outside the sauna in
the outdoors, or in an attached washing chamber.
Finland is al,so known by the sobriquet "The Country of a Thousand Lakes". In many lakes the water is so clean and fresh that it can be used
for drinking without.filtering.
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1 In Finland, you're never too far
.from a lake-should you need a cool-
ing bath or just to sit and write poetry
or meditate. > To meet Santa Claus in
his home, visitors must travel to his
base camp at the Arctic Circle, near
the town of Rovaniemi. Dog lovers
can volunteer at husky fa s, helping
train and look after puppies. if Fin-
land has a national dish, it would be
the humble pirog. This pie lly has
a.filling of mashed potato or carrot
mash. It is sold by the kilo in bakeries
and supe arkets, and is best eaten
slightly heated with a dollop of butter.
Despite the long winter, Finns are
kno to enjoy their beer. Here a pub
in He"lsinki, named after the iconic
fo er president Urho Kekkonen, has
elevated him to a patron saint of beer
drinkers. Ii Brightly lit Christmas
trees and a cheery snowman enliven
the Finnish winter. Finns a"lso believe
in the Goat of Christmas, a pagan
version of the jolly Santa Claus, which
brings joy to the icy landscape.
IN FOCUS
Praise of Winter
THE GUIDE
ORIENTATION
Finland is located in northern
Europe. Most of its main cities,
including the capital Helsinki, are
concentrated in the south and
along the coast. Forssa is a town
in Harne region in the south. It is
116 km northwest of the capital
Helsinki. The towns of Salla and
Rovaniemi are located in Lapland,
Finland's northernmost region.
Rovaniemi is 835 km north of
Helsinki. Sparsely populated
Lapland falls above the Arctic
Circle-but is a popular place to
see the aurora borealis (Northern
Lights), visible on winter nights.
GETTING THERE
Finnair has direct flights thrice
weekly between New Delhi and
Vantaa International Airport near
Helsinki. The flight takes under
eight hours. Travel via other air-
lines can take up to 27 hours with
layovers. If the transfers are not
in a Schengen country, you may
need an additional transit visa.
VISA
Finland is part of the Schengen
area so a Schengen visa is valid
here unless it has travel restric-
tions. Otherwise the visa fee
is payable to the
Embassy of Finland in New Delhi,
where visa applications are han-
dled: read instructions on www.
finland.org.in. (011-4149 7570)
GETTING AROUND
The most flexible way for internal
travel is to rent a car. Note that
there is the danger of colliding
with wildlife, big animals such as
moose and bear, or sliding off icy
road surfaces. There are good
long-distance bus services; the
main carrier Matkahuolto (www.
matkahuo/to.fi/en) offers a variety
of tickets including unlimited
travel passes for between one
and two weeks priced at 149-
Trains are
only convenient between main
cities in the south or for a long
overnight ride between the capital
Helsinki and the Arctic Circle up
north. Finnair flies to major cities
including Rovaniemi if you want
to visit the Santa Claus Village
situated a few km from Rovaniemi
Airport. Cruising by ferry lines
through the archipelago to the
remote Ahvenanmaa Islands is
reasonably priced and fun.
May-September (Occasional thunderstorms)

Ha me
Kdrvatu ntu ri
Mol)ntain
'

October-April (Snow)
MAX: 27C, MIN: l0C MAX: -0to -20C, MIN: -25TO -50C
During spring and summer the weather is pleasant. Visitors can
go boating or canoeing, and enjoy outdoor entertainment such as
concerts/theatre in parks. From June to July, the sun barely sets. The
drawback is the abundance of insects, including ferocious mosquitoes.
Winters get colder the further north you go and the snowy season
may continue into April-May. Low temperatures require you to have
the right layered clothing. Finns suggest you eat vitamin C tablets to
keep healthy in the cold.
Camping Most towns maintain a camping
site, often by a lake. Guests are expected
to bring their own tents, but the ticket fee
includes facilities such as toilets and hot
showers. Generally only open in summers;
from Go to www.camping.fi
Camping in the wild According to an ancient
custom, a traveller may pitch a tent in any
forest as long as no trees are damaged, no
fires lit, or garbage left. You are not allowed
to put up a tent within sight of any habita-
tion. If in doubt, ask at the nearest farm for
advice about where to camp.
STAY
Rent a cottage Basic cottages and posh
log cabins are available all over the country.
The best are situated by lakes, but even
the simplest have a sauna and a kitchen
where you can cook. Guests are expected
to do the cleaning or pay extra cleaning
charges, and might need a car to access
remote cottages. Depending on facilities,
a week costs 200 to 1,000
85,000); expect higher rates in summer,
the peak holiday season. Book through www.
finlandcottagerenta/s.com or www.lomaren-
gas.fi/en or go to the Visit Finland website
www.visitfinland.com/directory and click
"Where to Sleep".
Igloo Village Kakslauttanen is situated in
the northern fells of Lapland and offers
accommodation in igloos, a kota (an indig-
enous tepee), or log cabins. It gets
cold but you're provided with a sleeping
bag, woollen socks, and other necessities
( +358-16667100; www.kakslauttanen.fi/en;
from
Rovaniemi Arctic Snow Hotel is built of ice
and snow and even has a snow sauna. It is
open only from end-Dec to March (+358-
407690395; www.arcticsnowhotel.fi; from
with breakfast).
90
KENYA
UP-CLOSE AND PERSONAL IN
THE MAASAI MARA
HIGHLIGHTS
102
MONGOLIA
ON THE STEPPE, WARMED BY THE
KINDNESS OF STRANGERS
108
TO ANTARCTICA
TEN WEEKS AND 16,000 KM ON A BUS,
TO REALISE A DREAM

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Jomneys
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Into the Wild
he animal world strides on to the plains
of the Maasai Mara like the grand open-
ing of a theatre production, each species
vociferously announcing its role. On this
stage, no actor has a minor part, from the male
ostrich in his pink slender tights seducing his
rather dull female with the clumsy grace of a
novice ballerina, to the raucous vulture preying
on a carcass, and the half-smiling villainous
hyena watching from the sidelines. If you are a
tourist from India, used to trundling around the
jungle for hours hoping to catch a glimpse of an
animal, the open savannah of the Maasai Mara
rewards you within minutes of your arrival.
But there's a downside to being in a place that's so spectacular. In
July and August, when thousands of wildebeest make their way from
Serengeti to Mara, the game reserve gets choked with tourists and
their vehicles, as everyone wants to catch a glimpse of the Grand Mi-
gration. To beat the tourists, I have signed up to stay in a conservancy-
a community-owned piece of land outside the Mara. Conservancies
are less crowded, the experience is far more intimate and the profits
go directly to the community. It seemed like the more responsible
thing to do.
When we land at the Jomo Kenyatta Airport, Kenya feels like an old
friend. I was here ten years ago to work for an NGO, building over-
bridges for the colobus monkey, whose forest habitat had been sliced
in two by a highway. In the decade since, the country hasn't changed
much except that there are more cars and, I'm told, less crime. As we
head out of the airport, the huge acacia trees seem to ache under the
weight of large nests occupied by giant, glum-faced Marabou storks.
They are the "ugliest birds" in Kenya, our guide declares. Still, I can't
help but admire their nest-building abilities. As matatus (mini-vans)
honk and hundreds of vendors and pedestrians jostle through Nairo-
bi's streets, the birds sit stoically on their trees, oblivious to the chaos.
Once in a while, they spread their wings to provide shade to the chicks
in the nests. These grand storks are our first indicator that here in
Kenya, it is possible to get very close to wild creatures.
We make our way down the road to the Wilson airport, our link to
the African bush. Here, hundreds of small white planes are waiting
to ferry tourists back and forth. My photographer-husband Vijay and
I board an eight-seater Cessna. The planes are so small, they cannot
fit big suitcases and since the photography equipment with us weighs
30 kilos, we are asked to leave our clothes behind in a locker. I stuff
two shirts into my handbag; the thought of wearing the same clothes
for the next four days is daunting.
As we take off I hear violins in my head as the savannah stretches
out below us. It's a landscape of yellow and green, with the occasional
white and black stripes of zebras. Then suddenly I see a spot of bright
red-it's a Maasai man, a member of the community that have the
original rights over this magical land. Forty minutes later, we land in
the Mara and a group of red-shawled Maasai run towards the plane to

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Jomneys
--------
Into the Wild
help us with our luggage. Antony, our guide, drives us to our camp-a
tent with no other barriers between us and the natural world.
Around midnight, when the lights are out and I am comfortably
ensconced in my bed, I hear a scraping sound against the flap of the
tent. I am glad I've zipped the tent flap right to the bottom, but I wake
Vijay, who immediately wants to take photographs; but I won't let him
step out. We hear some howls and grunts, before the animals move on.
This may be a fun story to tell at breakfast the next morning, but for
the moment I am a bit frightened. Later we hear that the sounds could
have been hyenas or even a pride of lions prowling around in the dead
of night. "But they will not harm you, so you had nothing to worry
about", says Antony reassuringly.
During each safari, life follows a simple ritual. Every action, from
what we eat to when we eat it, is centred on how to best experience the
wilderness. At 5.30 a.m., a tray laden with tea and chocolate biscuits
is slid into our cosy tent. I groan. I am on holiday, after all. Vijay has
already packed his 600 mm lens, his still camera, his video camera, his
400 mm lens, his batteries, and his tripod. He urges me to hurry, eas-
ing the heavy backpack onto my shoulders, and marches outside with
his own. Our Land Rovers are ready. Within minutes, we see zebras
rolling in the dust, a pride of lions, and banded mongoose hiding in
clumps of mud.
Every minute we're in the bush we see animals. In fact, there seems
to be a new species to observe every day. But in that frenetic pace of
zipping around trying to capture every single animal on camera, I feel
that the magic of the moment is sometimes lost. It's probably best to
put the camera away and simply soak in the landscape.
On one sun-glazed afternoon, we stop the Land Rover, and silently
absorb the sights and sounds and smells of the bush. On our right
is a herd of bachelor elephants, among them a young male we name
One Tusk. He's presumably cracked his tusk in a fight. He spends a
few minutes tearing down an acacia tree. As soon as the tree is down,
the rest of the males move in for their share of the morning chomp.
Within minutes, giraffes appear as well, bobbing their heads above
the trees. Two male giraffes have their necks intertwined, giving them
a Disneyesque comical look. From a distance it's so gentle I'm fooled
into thinking it's a display of bonhomie. In fact the males are locked in
this position for a while, trying to establish supremacy over the other.
Behind them, a male giraffe, bends its tall neck and sniffs at a fe-
male's genitals. Is she ready for some love? Could this be his lucky day?
He follows her, his tongue hanging like a lovesick teenager, as the shy
female gives him chase. Nature's soap opera is in live mode.
The next day, we travel from the conservancy to the actual reserve.
'i\.t the end of the day, tell me how many differences you can observe
between the game reserve, and my land at the conservancy", Antony
says to me.
Half an hour later, as we approach the gates of the Mara, we're
greeted by a cloud of dust. Hundreds of vehicles are waiting to get in.
Maasai women swarm around, in their bright red-and-yellow jewel-
lery, urging us to buy a necklace here, a giraffe bowl there.
Once inside the reserve, we're hit by the scale of the Mara-it
stretches out over 1,500 sq km. It has one of the highest concentra-
tions of lions in the world. Over one million wildebeest, zebra, and
Thomson gazelle migrate annually from the Serengeti plains in Tan-
zania to fresh pastures here in the Mara. But because it's so large, the
animals are more dispersed, and it takes more time to sight them. It's
quite a contrast from the close encounters we've had with animals in
the conservancy.
Up ahead, we are told, there is a cheetah. It's lying quietly on a
mound in the midday sun surrounded by a sea of yellow grass when
The topi are a very social, species of
mid-med antel.opes that spend much of
their time 'ID'ith other animals BUCh as
.udebeest, sebras, and ostrich.
I NATIONAL GEOG LLER INDIA 97
Jomneys
--------
Into the Wild
we approach. Even before we can start clicking pictures, at least ten
vehicles have surrounded the animals. We move on.
An hour of driving, and we get information that a herd of wilde-
beest may be crossing one of the rivers. Their dark grey silhouettes
make their way, like children, towards the river. In the water, a
crocodile is sun-basking with its mouth open and a herd of hippos
lazing around. But most amusing is a troop of baboons, on their
haunches at the edge of the river staring across it at another troop.
There they sit, the leaders on either side of the water, making faces
at each other like two army generals ready for war. Baring their ca-
nines, they screech, but because they're divided by the river, they can't
get any closer.
The wildebeest disappoint us. Just short of the river, they decide not
to cross today and start grazing on the plains, before dispersing. We
head back, tired from being rattled around. The Mara has been fun,
but the intimacy of the wildlife experience was far greater and richer
in the conservancy. As if to make our evening even more special, we
are told to be ready and stay close to our tents because there are lions
ahead. We see the male first, with a gorgeous dark mane; he's just tak-
ing in the last rays of the sun. Behind him in the bush, are four cubs,
gambolling, ignoring their grumpy father. He gives us one look, glanc-
es back at the cubs, and rolls over to sleep. We are told that the mother
is probably out hunting. We spend almost half an hour watching the
cubs playing. When the mother returns, the male continues to sleep.
We return to our camp. It's time for a sundowner and a chance to
sit around the fire, surrounded by howling jackals and roaring lions.
Bahar Dutt is a conservation biologist and environmental journalist
based in New Delhi. Vijay Bedi is a wildlife filmmaker.
1 About.five lakh wiMebeest calves are born in February and March
each year, at the start of the rainy season. 2 Maasai women weave
intricate bead jewellery that is worn by members of the tribe to
indicate their identity and position. Each colour holds a meaning-
whitefor peace, redfor bravery, etc. 8 Cape buffalo, the largest species
of African buff aw, is one of the Big Five animal attractions of the
Maasai Mara. It is seldom spotted without its companion the red-
billed oxpecker that spends most of its life on its hosts.
~ e n y a
6
4A distinctive feature of African elephants is their
enormous ears, which radiate heat and help them stay
cool on hot afternoons in the Maasai Mara. 5 Safari guides
.from the local Maasai community know the bush well and
are able to quickly spot animal signs, call,s, and pugmarks.
6 An ostrich's wings might be uselessfor flying but useful as
rudders to help change direction whik running at speeds of
up to 70 kmph.

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Orientation
,
,
The Maasai Mara National Reserve is a
1,500-square-kilometre protected wildlife
area in southwestern Kenya, adjoining
Serengeti National Park in Tanzania. It is
famous for the Big Five-lion, leopard,
elephant, rhino, and buffalo-that roam
its landscape, which varies from thick
woodland to open plains. Conservancies are
areas around the reserve boundaries that
protect the park by providing buffer zones.
They are run by the Maasai people and
help to ensure that some of the benefits of
tourism go back to local communities. The
01 Kinyei conservancy, which is 17,500 acres
of communal land owned by 85 families, is
one of the oldest in the Mara ecosystem and
the wildlife here is both prolific and varied.
Getting there
Kenya Airways operates direct flights
from Mumbai (duration 6 hours) and Delhi
(duration 7.5 hours) to the Kenyan capital
Nairobi. Flights that are routed via Middle
Eastern cities like Doha, Sharjah, or Dubai,
take a total travel time of about 13 hours
but tend to cost significantly less than the
direct flights. To reach the Maasai Mara,
visitors can take a 30-minute flight from
Nairobi Wilson Airport to one of the smaller
airstrips in the reserve. AirKenya flies to the
Mara thrice daily during high- and mid-
season, and twice daily during the rest of
the year. An economical option is to rent a
vehicle for the 6-7 hour drive to one of the
5 gates leading into the reserve.
Visa
To apply for a visa for Kenya, travellers
require a visa application form, which can
be downloaded online, and supporting
financial documents. A single entry visa

THE GUIDE

I I
, --
'
to Kenya costs and should be
submitted via a bank draft in favour of the
Kenya High Commission. Applications can be
made directly at the commission's office in
New Delhi or via a travel agent. The processing
time is at least 24 hours (011-26146537;
www.kenyahicom-delhi.com). Do get a yellow
fever vaccine in time. The certificate may be
required with the visa application and will
definitely be demanded by Indian immigration
officials when you return.
Seasons
The Maasai Mara has a mild and damp climate
throughout the year, with highs of 30C during
the day and night-time lows of 15C. The rainy
season is from Apr-May and in Nov, and during
this time the road from Nairobi can become
impassable rendering some parts of the
reserve inaccessible. The dry season (Jul-Sept)
is usually considered the best time to visit the
reserve as it is easier to spot animals out in the
grasslands. The wildebeest migration across
the reserve and the crocodile-infested Mara
River takes place between July and October.
Park fees
Entry to each of the
park's three sections
is per
day. Children below 3
years are free, and those between 3
and 18 years are charged
There is a daily fee if you stay in a camp
inside the reserve for adults;
for children). The conservancies
charge separate fees.
Staying in a conservancy
The conservancies are large tracts of land
with very few camps and vehicles, which
makes for plentiful animal sightings. This is
especially important during the migration
season, when the main reserve is teeming
with people and vehicles. However, if you
want to see wildebeest you will have to join
the melee. I went on game drives in the 01
Kinyei conservancy and stayed at Perini
Camps, which is run by Gamewatchers
Safari and has been awarded the "Most
Responsible Tour Operator" by Kenya
Wildlife Services. This is the only camp
within the 01 Kinyei conservancy and hosts
only 12 guests at a time. I liked that as soon
as we arrived, we were advised to conserve
water since it is scarce and told that the
camp itself had no walls constructed to
minimise human footprint. The camp
seemed committed to sustainable tourism
and had a clear policy on solid waste and
garbage management and ran on solar
power. This to my mind is low impact
tourism at its best. (+254-774136523;
www.porini.com; per person
including stay, game and night drives, park
fees, meals, and airstrip transfers.)
Booking a safari
Using a reliable tour operator to book a
safari is convenient as they bundle park
fees, accommodation, game drive charges,
Nairobi to Mara flights, etc. so you don't
have to worry about the details or carry
extra cash. The Internet is flooded with
information on how to book your safari,
which can leave you quite overwhelmed
especially since the market caters more
to a western clientele and follows a very
fixed plan. I used an Indian travel company
called Chalo Africa. One of the co-owners
is Sangeetha Prasad, a trained biologist
who had a number of ideas on where we
could go to avoid the crowds, since we were
travelling during peak season. It was on
her suggestion that we went off the beaten
track to travel up to Lake Bogoria to watch
millions of flamingoes
that descend on the
lake in October.
------------------------------------------ --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- --
Journeys
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
~ l i c e of Life

Jomneys
-----
~ l i c e of Life
was tired and nauseated from six hours in Manault's beat-
up, blue Russian jeep, jostling on the rocky terrain of Central
Mongolia. I hadn't showered in days and requested that we
stop for the night at an official guesthouse. The official guest
houses didn't have much in the way of accommodation-
usually a series of gers, traditional tents made of hides, and a small
restaurant but they did have toilet facilities, and taking a shower
was a luxury after days along the dusty paths. But as usual, Bubu,
my bubbly 18-year-old translator and guide, didn't seem to hear.
She had only recently taken a job with the tour operator and
although she was Mongolian, she was from the capital city ofUlaan-
baatar, where bus stops had Wi-Fi, and teens in popped-collar
polos strutted streets filled with high-end cars. Her knowledge of the
rest of Mongolia was shaky at best. The other night I had caught her
taking notes from Lonely Planet's guide to the country.
So when we stopped in the most rustic ger camp we'd ever seen,
owned by a nomadic family, I was not pleased. My sick companion
The nomadic people (bottom right) of Mongolia have roamed the steppes for -two millennia; Archery, (left) wrestling, and bareback horse riding are
coming of age skil"lsfor every nomadic boy; Karakorum was the old capital of Mongolia.from the 18th to the 15th centuries. Four of these gi,ant stone
turtles (top right) once marked the corners of the city. Only -two remain, including this one outside the monastery's northern gate.
was groaning next to me, and bathrooms here were non-existent.
When your stomach is sick, squatting on the steppe with no cover
isn't the greatest option. The two Japanese girls we had caravanned
with earlier on the trip had demurely used a large umbrella for cover
on restroom stops, but here the flat countryside offered few oppor-
tunities for privacy.
The family had an extra tent covered in drying skins and bags of
airag-fermented mare's milk-that did nothing to settle our stom-
achs. Bubu didn't understand why I was so angry until I explained
it, my temper finally bursting after weeks of dealing with her lack of
attention to our requests.
But I wasn't about to insult our hosts. The relationship between
guest and host is all important in this most remote of countries,
where you never know when you will be in need of housing. Deter-
mined to make the best of things, I brought out the great equaliser-
alcohol, in this case a few bottles of beer and Chinggis vodka-and
headed to the camp where our host family was making dinner on an
open fire. With that simple gesture, everything changed.
Maybe it was my obvious irritation, maybe it was the host family's
inclusive sentiments, but Bubu immediately started translating ev-
erything, something that usually took multiple requests to get her to
do. And silent Manault, always uncomfortable indoors, opened up,

his face crinkling in pleasure in the afternoon sun.
I squatted on the ground as the family passed me an intensely
flavourful bowl of rice and beef broth along with a huge femur bone.
After my partner roused herself from her stupor, we took pictures of
the kids and printed them on a mini-printer to hand to the family.
We had heard that though gers were often equipped with TVs and
satellite dishes, photographs were still highly prized. After letting out
an almost girlish squeal, the mother issued marching orders and the
kids were immediately cleaned and dressed for more pictures.
After the impromptu modelling session, while the men were still
sucking marrow from bones with gusto, we left with the mother
to pick wild strawberries on the slopes of the closest mountain. As
we hiked up, she told us about the sacredness of the area. Wolves
lived on the slopes and a shaman had recently climbed to the peak
to perform a sanctification ceremony. The constant questions by a
foreigner from the other side of the world didn't seem to faze her. In
fact, with her sun-weathered face, piercing gaze, and rugged lifestyle
amidst acres of isolation, I got the feeling that very little fazed her.
In this culture, the blue sky is worshipped and high places are
held in reverence. Throughout the trip, we had passed ovoo, piles
of rock (or wood in the north) that are ritualistically circumambu-
lated clockwise. We had circled many. Sometimes, we added a rock
Bactrian or two-humped camel,s transport tents and supplies. They are sometimes usedfor wool, milk, and meat as well.
Jomneys
-------
~ l i c e of Life
or stone to the pile in respect to the sky. When we were too rushed
to stop, Manault had honked, keeping the totems on his right as we
passed them while driving. But while walking around them, Bubu
would often get confused about the direction she was supposed to go.
By the time we returned to the camp, other relatives and friends
had stopped by on horses and old motorcycles. Manault, perhaps re-
laxed from the vodka, but more likely because of the camaraderie of
the steppe, taught me how to drink properly. When serving, I learnt
to pour with my right hand supported by the left at the wrist. And to
pour for everyone before I pour for myself. Bubu declined the drink,
instead she dipped a finger lightly into the vodka, flicking it to the
sky as an offering.
As the wolves from the mountains started howling, my drunken
host wrapped his arm around my shoulders to lead me back to my
tent for the night. He was overjoyed to discover that we were the
same age. I looked at his family, his friends, his tents, and his slice
of this wide, wild country and wondered at how similar in spirit we
were-and how utterly different.
That night, the camp dogs awakened me, barking at attacking
wolves that had come down from the mountain. The growls I heard
from the wolves were like nothing I had ever heard before; they went
straight to my brain. Wide-awake, I heard the dogs fight back, driv-
ing the wolves away from the horses, the greatest treasure of any no-
mad. I fell asleep amidst the strange smells of drying skins and fer-
menting milk, wondering the next day whether the wolves-or even
the past 24 hours-had been nothing more than a dream.
We took our leave the next day to an empty camp. The family
had gone to tend their flock. But the dynamics in our group had
changed subtly. Our driver was silent again as he revved up his jeep,
and as the bright azure sky beckoned I remembered the clink of
bottles and the words spoken the night before.
"Tocktoy!" Manault had exclaimed, his normally stoic face break-
ing out into a wide grin as he lifted his Chinggis vodka in cheers and
benediction, "To blue skies, straight roads!"
Biju Sukumaran is a travel writer currently based in Argentina, the
latest stop on his slow travel through South America, living in each
new place for 3-4 months.
The barely-there roads of the steppe are usually traversed in Russian 4x4s (top left), which are prone to breakdowns thanks to the terrain; Chinggis
vodka (bottom left), which derives its name.from Genghis Khan, is Mongolia's most popul,ar vodka and a great way to break the ice with locals; The
Mongolian Steppeforms a crescent to the north of the Gobi Desert (right).
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JOURNEYS

but I do remember that I wished for Antarctica when I blew out the
candles on my cake. Impossible dreams make good birthday wishes, and
I used mine silently hoping that somehow, someday, I would make it to
Earth's frozen continent. I had wanted to travel to Antarctica ever since
I learned such a place existed. I craved the haphazard polar voyages
of men before the era of airplanes and travel brochures. Those early
travellers seemed so sincere as they set off for the bottom of the world
with their optimism, simple dogsleds, and year's supply of station-
ery. In pursuit of my dream, I auditioned for scientific internships on
research ships and applied for menial jobs on American polar
bases. I wrote elaborate proposals for special grants that were never
granted and made wild attempts to win Internet contests. None of
those efforts bore fruit. So I decided to just go.
I traced an imaginary path on a map, from Washington, D.C.,
where I live, down to the seventh continent. Where there's a road
there's a way, I figured, and much of the distance to Antarctica was
paved with roads. All I had to do was head south some 16,000 km
until the road ended in Tierra del Fuego. From there it was less
than a knuckle's width of mapped sea to Antarctica. The catch
was to figure out an affordable way to travel. My research revealed
there were public buses in every country I'd pass through to the
frozen continent. If I made no reservations and had no daily
itinerary, bus travel would approximate the journeys of early ex-
plorers. For the spots of water I'd cross-the Strait of Magellan and
the Drake Passage-it looked like I'd have to forsake bus for boat.
I eagerly mapped out a rough ten-week plan, arranged to post
entries to National Geographic's blog from the road, bought my
first bus ticket-and embarked on my one-man polar expedition
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JOURNEYS

Ironically, accidents and breakdowns offered new
opportunitksfor dbJcoverg. When a coupk of:J t tyres
occupkd our driver for hours, I took llCl"oss the rock-
strewn altiphlno, ga%ingup at the blu,est sides I've ever seen.
from a sidewalk bus stop outside National Geographic's headquar-
ters in Washington, D.C. It was New Year's Day, and all I carried
was a backpack stuffed with clothes, a camera, and the National
Geographic flag. I paid $1.35 to ride the S2 Metrobus down 16th
Street past the White House. An hour later I boarded a Greyhound
bus to Atlanta, nervously anticipating the long road ahead. The bus
driver took my ticket and asked routinely, "Your final destination,
sir?" I mumbled. Greyhound wouldn't get me all the
way there, but it could take me at least a few thousand kilometres
closer to my dream.
it: boat or plane. Taking a tip from noted adventurer Paul Theroux,
who for his best-selling book The Old Patagonian Express chose a
plane ride, I flew to Cartagena, Colombia. There I boarded the next
bus and within hours was travelling through the beautiful, and
steep, Colombian Andes. These eventually gave way to Ecuador's
endless green banana fields. Then came a jungle road in Peru that
turned into a desert track; I tasted the dust on my teeth. Bus by bus I
motored on into Bolivia, where, halfway across, the road vanished;
the bus just followed tyre tracks across the stratospherically high
Uyuni plain.
Asphalt, smooth asphalt, returned in Argentina. Eager to catch
my boat across the Drake Passage to Antarctica, I raced down these
last 5,000 kilometres-the length of Argentina-in just seven days,
watchingthelandscapetransitionfromC6rdoba'sflatgreenpampato
Patagonia's dry brown hills, to the snow-sifted mountains of
glowing tip of his cigarette and some vague white Tierra del Fuego (where we detoured briefly
stars, the only light flickered from a pile of or- / f ' - (,_ h:,-.....TC'\ \.\ ., into Chile). The air cooled as we proceeded,
After three days of riding silver buses across the American
South I found myself at a roadside rest stop in northern Mexico at
midnight. While the other bus passengers slept, I ventured out
into the cold, dry air and stretched my legs, kicking holes in the
dust while the bus driver had a smoke. Aside from the
// UNITED STATES t
the austral sun setting later

squatted and shaped tortillas, pat-pat- ...,/:....... , MEXICO HdNDURAS \ \ ........._ When nights came, I tried to sleep by
pat. I felt overwhelmed by the obscure ! , / \ \ "\ folding my six-foot-four body into a
, f GUATEMALA-/ ;/ l PANAMA j \ \
scene and the utter darkness. I'd been t o
/
..........; .... EL SALVADOR ...
7
...... ., .......................... ..................... \ bus seat and dreaming of Antarctica.
Mexico before, but not like this. The ...'{....... / ; \ \"" One night, somewhere in Colombia,
bus had delivered me to an invisible ! ECUADOR.....-- l J I was awakened by a loud crash, fol-
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\ : PERU .
part of the world. lowed by our bus rumbling off the
I HOPPED FROM ONE BUS to the \ ' , , " " road. Nobody risked stepping out
next over the coming days, grabbing any .. , ,., to see what happened, fearing bandits.
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school bus painted with a rainbow of trim .........,_ .......... __,...,.... ........................
and with unhappy chickens wedged beneath :::'".:::.:.... .-::..,_:.:::.. ......::.:/ ........:.:::-'/ ..:.::---,...-
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killed. As the sole passenger with a camera, I
was enlisted to help document the carnage for
the police. the seats. A bus attendant hung from the ..................ANTARCTl.CA ../ _......- .......... ..
open door with one hand and announced the des- ..... ..::....=:::_....,,,......... .... .., ..
tination, Huehuetenango, by shouting "Hue, Hue! "
to everyone waiting. Any spot where a person stood waving be-
came a bus stop. A hundred heads bobbed in time with the
road. When the bus cruised around mountain turns, our jam-packed
bodies slid from side to side. Audio speakers blared a sound track for
the jungle landscape, but the CD skipped every time we hit a bump,
turning sappy Latin love songs into thumping Spanish rap and
back again.
After Guatemala's hairpin-bend highways, the bus careening
along the edge of every mountain, we trailed through El Salvador's
smoky backyards and the hacienda-feeling countryside of Hondu-
ras. The giant volcano hovering in the distance marked Nicaragua.
In Costa Rica, the road became all twisty and pimpled with gaping
potholes. We crossed into Panama, then over its famous canal on the
1.6-km-long Bridge of the Americas. The next hurdle was the geo-
graphical difficulty between Panama and Colombia known as the
Darien Gap, a swath of jungle and swamp that forms a tricky 160-
km interruption in the Pan-American Highway. My options around
Ironically, accidents and breakdowns offered new
opportunities for discovery. Cruising at 12,000 feet along
the Peruvian Andes, I'd just noticed that my inflatable neck pil-
low had sprung a leak when the wheels on the bus went pop, pop,
pop. The flat tyres occupied our driver for hours, which I spent tak-
ing walks across the rock-strewn altiplano, gazing up at the bluest
skies I've ever seen.
Passenger participation was mandatory in Bolivia. Each time
we got stuck in mud-a regular occurrence-the bus driver would
fling open the door and motion out our mix of bleary-eyed back-
packers and gold-toothed Aymara Indians. Together we built
piles of rocks behind each tyre, then put shoulder to bumper and
heaved. When we finally dislodged the bus, we sloshed through
puddles to reboard.
Still, I can't think of a greater disappointment than rushing a
first visit to Bolivia; it's like taking a kid to Disney World for the
first time and telling him it closes in ten minutes-forever. During
my week travelling through it, Bolivia delivered some of the most
memorable landscapes on a journey through remarkable places.
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Eerie bluer-than-blue splinters of sea ice (top) drifting off the Antarctic coast and colonies of emperor penguins (below). ''Is this
place beautiful? Oh yes. No land can compare," Evans posted.
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JOURNEYS
~ u e s t
The town of Uyuni, in southwestern Bolivia, for example, gives its
name to the largest salt flat on Earth, which occupies a vast, dried-
up prehistoric lake. At 10,000 square km, 40 times larger than the
Bonneville Salt Flats in Utah, Uyuni's arid salt flat gives the odd
sensation of standing on a blank piece of paper-a wide-open feel-
ing of nothingness that attracts thousands of sightseers yearly.
The surprise upon our arrival was that heavy seasonal rains had
turned the salt flat into a saltwater flat. I found myself walking
through six inches of lukewarm brine that crystallised up my leg
on contact. Equally curious was the extraordinary way in which the
sun reflected off the forever horizon of salt water-which burned
my skin to a crisp.
Descending from high-altitude Bolivia into the desert hills of Ar-
gentina's Jujuy region proved another scenic highlight. Drab rock
landscapes suddenly turned into pink-tinted rock formations, col-
oured sandstone swirls, twisting mountain streams, and saguaro-
like cacti. It felt as if we were driving through the arid reaches of
southern Arizona-and it was HOT. How hot? My thermometer
claimed the temperature was 48C. Still, travelling in Argentina
was a relief because everything was suddenly easy. Need a shower
and nap before your next bus? There's a hotel with rooms for a few
dollars an hour around the corner. Plus you can check your email
and recharge any batteries.
MY LAST NIGHT, on the final bus, it snowed. I used the oc-
casion to mark my progress with a marker on a tattered map,
amazed at the distance I'd covered on wheels. Finally, we rolled
into a rainy parking lot in Ushuaia. This was it: the end of the road
at the bottom of the continent. We stopped next to a dock for ships
with reinforced hulls. On board one the next day I would spot my
first icebergs.
Looking back now, I see my transcontinental ride as a road for
which only I knew the directions. My bus fare from Washington,
D.C., to Antarctica? A total of $1,102.60-half the price of a plane
ticket for the same distance. The bus took longer, yes, but I got to
see everything we miss out on when we choose to fly: The gradual
changes from one place to another-and the real size of Earth. Be-
fore my trip, I only guessed at the planet's actual size. Now I've felt
every inch of my 16,000-kilometre roller-coaster route in my lower
back. I know the rhythm of so many landscapes from resting my
forehead against countless bus windows.
On a bus, I can tell you, the world is measured in days. Earth is
small-so much smaller than I once believed. Part of me wishes
I could go back to the time when the planet felt huge and infinite.
We accept intellectually that things don't become smaller, but
secretly we may still wonder. Perhaps travel is the way we check
our bearings, just to make sure. Are we getting bigger? Or is the
world shrinking? What I do know is that my trip to Antarctica is no
longer a dream. It's now a vivid memory.
Andrew Evans is National Geographic's digital nomad-always
travelling and always wired. He's constantly on the move sharing
his adventures as he explores great destinations around the globe.
"It's just yards away!" Andrew Evans tweeted when he was almost there. "I'm looking right at Antarctica, and I'm beyond exuberant!" Evans posted.
"Antarctic landscapes are hypnotic. The moving floes of brash ice pull my gaze into their cold and shifting patterns. If I spent half a lifetime dreaming
of Antarctica before I arrived here, I will spend the other half plotting my return:
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HIGHLIGHTS
116
WALKING HOLIDAY
SCALING PERSONAL HEIGHTS IN SIKKIM'S
RHODODENDRON SANCTUARY
122
ADVENTURE
PONDICHERRY HOLDS DEEP SECRETS
FOR SCUBA DIVERS
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~ i k k i m
A TREK IN SIKKIM IS THE CHANCE TO BURN OFF YEARS
OF ACCUMUIATED FAT I TEXT & PHOTOGRAPHS BY RISHAD SAAM MEHTA
On clear days, the sight of the Kanchenjunga peak is a constant companion on the trek (top left); The nearest road head is another hour's walk
ahead of the beautiful exit gate of Barsey Rhododendron Sanctuary at Uttarey (bottom left); Buddhist chortens and shrines are often found in the
middle of the trail and trekkers must walk past respecifully keeping them on their right (ri ght) .
''
am going to die here;' I thought,
as I clung to a green sapling
for dear life. We were trekking
across the 4,150-metre-high
Darwa Pass in the Garhwal Himalaya, when
a sudden thunderstorm completely washed
away our guide's sense of direction. We were
lost and struggling up a grassy incline. The
slippery soles on my canvas shoes didn't
help. As I clutched the sapling, precariously
close to the edge of the cliff, I found myself
wishing that I'd eaten the super-stacked
hamburger instead of the spindly chicken
roll at Wimpy's in Delhi, four days earlier.
That was in September 1997, on my first
trek ever. The guide managed to throw
down a rope and haul me up to safety, so
I've had plenty of hamburgers since then.
The trek changed my life. The article I
wrote about it landed me a job with an
automobile magazine, transforming me
from a bored electronic engineer into a
budding travel writer. The job brought lots
of driving holidays but no treks.
But recently, as I stood on the scales, I
wondered whether the the guide would
have been able to haul me up if I was this
heavy-both of us would most likely be
sitting on a cloud somewhere playing harps.
I bought a pair of fancy trekking boots off
GET GOING
Holiday
IT WAS mE MIDDLE OF APRIL, mE BEST TIME TO SEE THE RHODODENDRON
Once the sounds of pitching camp and settling in ebb away, little visitors drop by. At this campsite we saw a mongoose and a pair of woodpeckers.
Amazon, deciding that this would be a year
of walking trips rather than driving jaunts.
That very day, I bumped into my old
friend Piran Elavia, looking sunburnt and
slim. When I'd seen him last, he was rotund
and edging sideways through open doors.
It turned out that he'd been leading treks in
the Northeast. I signed up for the next one,
in Sikkim, a month later.
The next time I saw Piran, he was in the
middle of a mob of heckling taxi drivers
outside Bagdogra airport. There were
three people on this trek through Barsey
Rhododendron Sanctuary in West Sikkim
and it took seven hours to drive the 165
km to the family-run Sherpa Lodge in the
little village of Okhrey. Ploughing through
a mountain of rice during dinner, Piran
briefed us on what to expect in the next few
days-the distances, terrain, and campsites.
Roughly shaped like a butterfly, the
104-sq-km area was declared a sanctuary
in 1996. We would enter through the Hilley
Gate, on the bottom of the right wing, and
spend five days trekking all the way across
to exit at the Uttarey Gate, on the top of the
left wing. It was the middle of April, the
best time to see the rhododendrons bloom,
but often a time of relentless rain. Thunder
rolled ominously.
However, the next morning brought blue
skies and butterflies. Since the 4-km trek
from Sombaria to Barsey, the first campsite,
was quite popular, the paved trail had a
constant flow of walkers. Though there is a
huge concentration of rhododendron trees
in the sanctuary, all don't bloom every year.
But every once in a while, there is a mass
flowering and the forest explodes in a riot
of red, pink, and white. This was one of
those extraordinary years and a number of
people had come to enjoy the wonder.
At Barsey, camp was set up on a ridge
looking out at Kanchenjunga but clouds
had gathered, obscuring views of the
snow-capped range. When I stepped out
of my tent at dawn, my back in knots
from sleeping on the ground and inside a
sleeping bag for the first time in 15 years,
I saw the magnificent peak stripped of
cloud cover. After a quick breakfast of fried
eggs, porridge, and toast, we set off. The
camp staff would cook and pack lunch,
break camp, and leave 40 minutes later and
~ i k k i m
THE FOREST HAD EXPLODED IN A RIOT OF RED, PINK, AND WHITE
The staff packed up camp after we left, walkedfast, and had the tents pitched before we reached, singing cheerfully as they did all this (top left);
Since the sanctuary is protected, evenfallen trees can't be cut though they may block the trail (bottom left); The water in the streams is so clean and
clear that it is possible to drink directly .from them (right).
yet beat us to the lunch rendezvous.
Over the next three days, we walked in
solitude. Most visitors usually trek only up
to Barsey. To continue beyond, you need a
knowledgeable guide as well as tents and
provisions. On the second day, the trail was
no longer a paved path. There were plenty
of ascents and descents over terrain that
varied from grassy trails to gnarled roots
and scree, ensuring that muscles that had
long been dormant were put to work.
Just as we approached Devlingali Dhap,
a huge meadow, I heard a series of shouts.
It was our staff-they hurtled past us and
by the time we crossed the meadow, they
had lunch set up. The crew was headed
by Nar Bahadur Bhandari (who we called
NB), a cattle-herder turned Him Rakshak
(mountain protector). He had been trained
under a programme initiated by the World
Wildlife Fund, The Mountain Institute
India, and the Sikkim Forest Department
that taught former herders and poachers
to monitor wildlife and keep an eye out for
traps and other poaching activities. Since
they know the lay of the land and routes so
well, they supplemented their income by
working as trek captains.
The cook and three porters were
cardamom farmers from villages along the
Hee River. Sikkim was one of the largest
cardamom producers in the world until
an unidentified disease depleted most
plantations in the last decade.
As we finished lunch, it started to drizzle.
We pulled on waterproof shells and started
the three-hour climb to Joreybotey, our
next camp. Dense clouds rolled in, reducing
visibility. NB warned us that the weather
was about to sour, and we barely managed
to pitch the tents at our second campsite
when it began to pour. At sunset, the rain
turned to hail that drummed a staccato
beat on the tent. Frost started to form on
the walls of the tent. Though I was warm in
my sleeping bag, I prayed that the tent's guy
lines would hold. Bagdogra seemed like a
memory from another lifetime.
Morning brought blue skies once again
and I woke up to a porter's loud singing.
Even though they couldn't carry a tune,
the staff loved to sing and their songbook
ranged from vintage Kishore Kumar to
new-age jingles like "You're my pumpkin,
GET GOING
Holiday
THERE WERE PLENTY OF ASCENTS AND DESCENTS OVER VARIED TERRAIN
The highest point of the trek is a ridge that falls on the border be-tween India and Nepal. Lunch that day is shared with the sentries at the Indo-
Nepal Border Police Post (top left); Badi elaichi or big cardamom is one of Sikkim's most profitable crops, though it is not used much in Sikkimese
cooking (bottom left); Jaand, a local millet beer made by mixing a fermented millet-yeast preparation with hot water, gets stronger even as you
sip it (right).
pumpkin ... " As we started the third day's
climb, I realised that I wasn't as breathless
as I had been the previous day. My muscles
hurt, but it was the sweet pain one feels
after a good workout. My shoes were
proving their worth, and since my heart
was no longer pounding in my ears, I could
hear birdsong all around. I stopped often
to identify birds and take in the stunning
views. This was a new experience for me:
on my driving trips the scenery was usually
just a flashing blur.
Thulo Dhap, the third night's stop, was
the quintessential Himalayan campsite
with a stream running past and a wide-
angle view of the mountains. Snacking on
freshly-steamed momos, Piran told me how
he became fat boy slim. In 2007, he went
to Lachen in North Sikkim to volunteer
and fell in love with the Northeast. He
quit his job and started a travel company
specialising in treks, wildlife, and
homestays, working with local communities
to give visitors a local experience.
The fourth day brought us to the trek's
highest point. It was a ridge 10,500 feet
high, with Nepal on the left and India on
the right. A stone marker indicated the
border. At the Chiwabhanjyang border
post, we met people for the first time in
three days. The roaring kitchen fire and the
masala chai made by the Gujarati sentry
provided respite from the rain. I returned
the favour by talking to him in Gujarati,
which he hadn't spoken in eight months.
From Chiwabhanjyang, we descended
2,000 feet over 600 uneven stone
steps that led to the fourth and final
campsite, Chittarey. It was locatedjust
outside another border police camp and
they allowed us the use of one of their
luxuries-a clean and covered toilet. By
now, though, I was quite at ease squatting
in a grassy field, and comfortable changing
my clothes kneeling down in the small tent,
and sleeping on the hard ground in my
sleeping bag.
On the last day of the trek, a pleasant
three-hour walk to the Uttarey Gate, we
met a steady stream of locals and soldiers,
and a train of yaks carrying supplies to
Chittarey. From the gate, we drove to the
village of Darap, 43 km away. We checked
into the idyllic Daragaon Homestay, run by
~ i k k i m
MUSCLES THAT HAD LONG BEEN DORMANT WERE PUT TO WORK
The cook preparedfulfilling breakfasts of fried eggs and porridge that couldfortify trekkers until lunchtime (left); The grandmother at the window
(top right) had clear memories ofWWII when the Japanese threat loomed at the border close by. She still works at a cardamomfarm and doesn't
know how old she is; Two days of complete relaxation followed the trek (bottom right), providing a buffer between the austerity of the wilderness
and the return to city routines.
Shiva and Radha Gurung, for three nights.
It was set at the base of a hill and done up
in traditional village style. This was a time
to shower, launder, laze, and loosen up
before plugging back into the grid.
On an early morning stroll through
one of the villages perched on the hillside
behind the homestay, a granny with a
creased countenance enjoying her morning
smoke beckoned me for a cup of tea.
During the course of conversation, I told
her that I cooked as a hobby. She handed
me a fistful of big cardamom from her
recent harvest and told me that it would
add divine flavour to my cooking.
Sitting there, basking in the sun
reflecting off the Kanchenjunga, I felt more
alive than I had in years.
DO THE TREK
DURATION 9 days, 8 nights
COST (24,500 per person Bagdogra to Bagdogra (99300 02412; www.kipepeo.in)
ORIENTATION Barsey Rhododendron Sanctuary is in west Sikkim and part of it
forms the border with Nepal. The closest airport is Bagdogra (160 km/6 hours to
Hilley) and the closest railway station is New Jalpaiguri (150 km/6 hours to Hilley).
Okhrey is 9 km from Hilley.
SEASONS To see the rhododendrons in bloom, the best time to visit is from
March through May. June to September is usually very wet. The second trekking
season runs from October to December. At this time of year, the days are clear
and there is little or no haze, so the Kanchenjunga and other snow-capped peaks
and ranges are clearly visible. Though devoid of rhododendrons at this time, the
sanctuary is quite pretty.
GET GOING

Preparing to dive at Temple Reef, a dive site at an artificial reef recently built by the Temp le Adventures team and the local.fishing community. The
reef was made to boost the.fish population in the area, which had depleted due to over.fishing.
bout 17 metres underwater in the Bay of Bengal, a
few hundred cardinal fish were working on a deep-sea
version of Swan Lake. We were diving, nine nautical
miles off the coast of Pondicherry. Thirty metres under,
when our descent was complete, I watched a pretty white dress float-
ing past-it was a giant jelly fish. Dainty little damselfish danced,
schools of surgeons swayed overhead, and sea plants quivered on the
seabed, turning the ocean into an underwater Yash Chopra set.
My oceanic adventure in Pondicherry was only beginning.
When I discovered that it was possible to scuba dive in
Pondicherry, I was delighted. I had spent a few days idling around
beaches with a book and munching on croissants at the Auroville
bakery. An evening stroll on the beach promenade amounted to
an active day, and lunch with Spanish acquaintances warranted my
Sunday best. Just when I was feeling the need to dial my visit up a
notch, I saw a tiny poster glued to a lamp post during a visit to the
botanical garden.
The Temple Adventures dive centre buzzed with divers of all
levels. Wetsuits hung from a steel rod on the porch, where some
people busied themselves cleaning the equipment. The atmos-
phere was decidedly international. One French instructor called
out in Hindi, an Australian was giving directions in Tamil, while
Stephen, who was also French, spoke English with a pronounced
south Indian accent. Everybody at the dive centre, including the chef
Elisa, shared a great love for diving and marine life. I half expected
to see Rango the cat pulling on a scuba mask.
The dive centre is obviously popular with advanced divers. But
beginners can pick the "Discover Scuba Diving" programme that
allows even non-swimmers a glimpse of the world under water. My
Advanced Open Water PADI certification, which I had obtained
in August, meant that I could dive to a depth of 30 metres. At this
depth, one can swim around wrecks and reefs.
The waters around India's east coast remain largely unexplored.
Every now and then, a new dive site is discovered. In the centre's five
years, Temple Adventures has found 21 new spots. As per tradition,
dive sites are named after their discoverers. But occasionally, there is
a lucky traveller on board after whom the site may be named. The spot
where I was diving was one such exception. It was named "Sylviane's"
after a cheerful 58-year-old lady from Toulouse, France.
Sylviane's was marked by bright red gorgonians (sea fan corals). I
was admiring a great moray eel's double chin when I realised there
was a giant emperor grouper, about a metre long, staring at me
to my left. The most important lesson I've learnt from my dive
expeditions is that sea creatures, like all other wildlife in the world,
are shy. Just as I turned around to take a good look at him, the
grouper swam away.
An hour later, as we prepared for our second dive at Sylvian e's,
I felt my heart pounding in excitement. As we discussed the topog-
raphy and the marine life we could expect to encounter, the vast
blue sea stretched out before us. This, I thought, was perhaps how
Columbus and other early explorers must have felt. In my own little
way, I was ready for the next discovery.
1 At Pondicherry, visitors can also
learn.free-diving, which involves
going deep underwater without any
breathing equipment. 2 All diving
courses start with some pool time
when instructors run students
through dril"ls on using scuba gear
and signalsfor communicating
underwater. 3 A school of yellow
.fusiliers at the Ghost 18 dive site.
Improving on the traditional
practices of local.fishermen who
throw trees in the sea to create
temporary reefe, a number of
artificial reefs have been built
around Pondicherry to create new
fish habitats. 4 Beautiful gorgonian
or fan corals can be spotted at dive
sites around Pondicherry at depths
of about 30 metres, accessible
only to advanced divers. 5 A diver
prepares to go underwater at Shy
Shark Reef, a popular dive spot for
shark sightings.
GET GOING

ORIENTATION
Officially renamed Puducherry
in 2006, Pondicherry is located
on the eastern coast of India,
310 km southwest of Bengaluru
and 160 km south of Chennai.
GETTING THERE
By Air Spicejet operates
several flights from Bengaluru
to Pondicherry (1 hour) during
the week. The airport is 6
km/30 mins from Beach Road
(autorickshaws charge
By Train There are many
trains between Chennai and
Pondicherry, but they take much
longer than the road journey.
The Puducherry Express runs
overnight between Bengaluru
and Pondicherry every Friday.
The station is 2 km/10 mins
from Beach Road.
By Road Pondicherry is 160
km/3 hours south of Chennai.
The drive down the East Coast
Road is rather scenic. Frequent
buses leave from the bus station
in Koyambedu (tickets
Shared taxis are available at
Chennai airport, and charge
for four passengers for
the one-way trip.
From Bengaluru, Pondicherry
is a 310 km/6 hour-drive down
NH66 (taxis charge
each way). The 7-8 hour
overnight bus journey from
Bengaluru to Pondicherry is
perhaps the cheapest and most
efficient route. There are both
government-run and privately
operated buses, most starting
from Madiwala or Shantinagar
bus stand (www.ksrtc.in or www.
redbus.in; tickets
GETTING AROUND
Pondicherry is fairly easy to get
around on foot but autos are
also available for short distances
(the unofficial minimum fare is
You can rent bicycles
per day) or motorcycles
per day) at Mission Street.
SEASONS
Pondicherry's pleasant
winters (Nov-Feb), when day
temperatures are a maximum
of 30C, are the high season
for tourists. Summer (Mar-Jul)
is hot and humid, with highs of
40C. The monsoon (Jul-Aug),
lowers temperatures and brings
relief. Light showers continue
through Sept and Oct. Though
you can dive all year round, the
best visibility underwater is
from Nov to March.
STAY
BASIC
Hotel Coramandal Heritage is a
simple, heritage building located
on Mission Street. The rooms
are simple, yet comfortable
and there's free Wi-Fi (0413-
2260269; www.hotelcoramandal.
in; doubles
Dumas Guest House is a
charming guest house located
close to Beach Road in the
French Quarter. It is a convenient
place to stay if you want to
venture out on foot (0413-222
5726; dumasguesthouse.com;
doubles
COMFORT
Les Hibiscus is an old, colonial
house on Suffren Street that has
been converted into a popular
guest house. Rooms fill up
quickly (0413-2227480; WWW.
leshibiscus.in; doubles from

Hotel de l'Orient is a Neemrana
establishment, a magnificent
mansion with colonial-style
interiors. Its restaurant serves
Creole (Tamil-French) food
(0413-2343067; hotel-de-lorient.
neemranahotels.com; doubles
from
LUXURY
La Villa Shanti is a hotel
with contemporary design
and facilities, attached to a
19th-century bungalow (0413-
4200028; lavillashanti.com;
doubles from
Palais de Mahe is a brand
new hotel on Rue De Bussy
that manages to be luxurious
without being fussy. It has a
nice swimming pool for guests
(0413- 2345611; www.cghearth.
com/palaisdemahe; doubles
from
GO SCUBA DIVING
Temple Adventures is the only
dive centre in Pondicherry. It
is located in the residential
area between the railway
station and Pondicherry
harbour, near the Indira
Gandhi sports complex (99402
19449; templeadventures.
com; 5, Veeramunivar street,
Colas Nagar). It offers trips
for qualified divers as well as
certifications and courses,
such as Discover Scuba, an
introduction for beginners.
Discover Scuba Diving: As the
name suggests, this two-day
programme provides a brief
introduction to the activity by
running participants through
the hand gestures used for
communication, and gives
them a basic understanding of
scuba gear (SCUBA stands for
Self Contained Under Water
Breathing Apparatus). The
following day, they are taken
out to sea for an assisted dive
to a depth of 12 metres
two days; one dive).
Open Water Diver: This is the
basic certification level for
divers. The four-day course
teaches participants about
the equipment and using it
underwater independently.
This allows participants to dive
anywhere in the world up to a
depth of 18 metres
four days, four dives).
Qualified Divers: You can simply
opt to go on fun dives
1 day, 2 dives) or get a higher
certification like Advanced Open
Water Diver, Enriched Air Diver,
and more.
WBATTO EXPECT
Temple Adventures is run by a
small team of friendly, helpful
divers. Diving in Pondicherry
isn't exactly what one would
describe as resort diving.
Compared to diving in Maldives,
it is like trekking through a
reserve forest. You may or may
not spot a manta ray or a shark
while diving here, but will be sure
to have an adventure.
FACILITIES
Diving gear can be rented at
Temple Adventures for
per day. They also have a dive
shop that sells protective rash
vests, Scubapro wetsuits,
masks, and more. Do remember
to book lunch at the
dive centre on the day you go
underwater. Elisa, the chef, is
one of the best in town. There
is free Wi-Fi.
WBATTO BRING
Do not, under any circum-
stances, forget to bring your
sunscreen lotion and a hat.
Sunglasses will help too. Bring
towels and a change of clothes.
It is very easy to get dehydrated
when you are out on a boat, so
always remember to drink plenty
of water.
126
FROM BE RU
DIAMONDS AND MEDIEVAL
TREASURES IN GANDIKOTA
HIGHLIGHTS
130
FR M BAI
BEYOND THE PILGRIM ROUTE
IN TRIMBAKESHWAR
134
0 AV
BUNDELKHAND'S ECOLOGICAL
AND HISTORICAL GEMS
135
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HARK BACK TO THE RAJ ERA
IN MUSSOORIE
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SBORTBREAKS
~ r o m Bengaluru

Finding medieval treasures inside a fort in Rayalaseema backcountry
By ALIYEH RIZVI Photograph.s by NIRLEK DHULLA
hen intrepid traveller and
gem merchant Jean-Baptiste
Tavernier, rode into Gandikota
in 1652, it had just become
Several dynasties and empires have passed
through the portals of the Gandikota Fort.
Since the 13th century, when it was built, it
has been under the control of the Pemmasani
Nayakas, the Qutub Shahis, the Kingdom of
Mysore, and the British empire. part of Golconda territory. The Frenchman
was on a mission to sell pearls and precious
stones to Abdullah Qutub Shah, of the Qutub
Shahi dynasty that had ruled the area for
over 150 years. But Tavernier had to first
pass muster with the Nawab of Gandikota,
the powerful Persian, Mir Jumla. Tavernier's
description of the short meeting is colourful-
he dined on fragrant pulao, inspected the
cannon-casting foundry, witnessed swift
executions, and received permission to
trade. The arduous journey to this isolated
12th-century fortress in the Deccan had been
dramatic. Centuries later, it still is.
Perched on a rocky precipice beyond
sunflower fields, dusty Kadapa stone mines,
windmills, and cement plants, Gandikota
Fort appears to be located in the middle of
nowhere. Low hills and thorny babul trees
stretch endlessly into the horizon while in
the valley, the river Pennar cuts a deep gorge
through the bedded sandstone layers of the
Erramala hills, and flows into the Mylavaram
Reservoir. This strategic location is why local
rulers bribed, poisoned, fought, and betrayed
each other for this gandi (gorge) kota (fort), a
600-year-old military stronghold and political
hotspot in the Deccan.
EXPLORE
GATEWAY TO THE PAST Solid, nail-spiked
gates embellished with a delicate, fringed-
lotus motif are portals to another time ripe
with romantic history, political intrigue, and
prepossessing architecture. The massive fort
has 101 bastions located on a thick stone
periphery that meanders through a large part
of the surrounding countryside. Built with
huge stone blocks that are wedged together
with loose mortar, it shuts out the world and
offers me a weekend of long, exploratory
walks through this now-forgotten citadel.
Keeping pace with me are many magnificent
ghosts from the past.
According to the District Gazetteer,
Cuddapah (published 1915), written by C.F.
The fort, guarded by thick iron doors (top left), is often compared to Hampifor its architectural and historical grandeur, though it has not drawn
the same level of attention.from authorities or travellers. The fort complex has two tempks- Madhavraya andRaghunatha (top right). The latter
offers a view of the Pennar gorge.
Brackenbury, the fort and the village inside
it were originally built around 1290 by the
early medieval king, Kaka Maharaju. Soon
after, dynasties gained control of and lost
Gandikota at dizzying speed.
The sturdy bastions inside the fort offer a
great vantage point from where I look down at
the rugged, boulder-strewn landscape. I can
almost see the mighty Qutub Shahi forces
who camped there in the 16th century, during
the siege of Gandikota, when the Vijayanagar
ruler Venkata 11 forced them to retreat. They
returned repeatedly, only to possess it a
century later in 1652 when Chinna Thimma
Nayudu, last in line of the Telugu Pemmasani
Nayaks, lost it to Mir Jumla.
Another hundred years later in 1780, Hyder
Ali, the ruler of Mysore would stand on these
ramparts to evaluate its impregnability, after
wresting it from the Nawab of Cuddapah.
Following the Third Anglo-Mysore War in 1791,
large portions of the fort, including the palace,
were knocked down when his son, Tipu
Sultan, had to cede it to the British, but many
of its original structures, including the pigeon
tower, jail, granary, and temples still remain
(open 24 hours; no entry fee).
ANCIENT CITADEL From the main
gateway, I approach the almost 30-foot-
high Qutub Shahi Charminar, also called
the Pigeon Tower, where doves gurgle and
parrots flutter through its fretted windows.
A rusty cannon lies nearby, reminding me
that the fort once had a magazine and a
17th-century foundry, supervised by the
French gunner, Claude Maille, a European
adventurer who sought fame and fortune in
India. Past the Charminar is the jail, a grim
stone building with narrow doors. Explore this
one cautiously. Open doorways, steps without
handrails, and the absence of warning signs
UNIQUE EXPERIENCE
Go spelunking
An underground Karst cave system
is a hop away from Gandikota at the
prehistoric Belum Caves (60km/ l.5 hrs)
in Kolimigundla. Clay vessels discovered
here date the caves to around 4,500
B.C., but they were rediscovered around
1884, long after Jain monks are believed
to have meditated here. A century
later, German speleologist Herbert
Daniel Gebauer pegged the length of
the caves at 3.5 kilometres, but local
guide Chandrashekhar Reddy is happy
to introduce you to the predetermined
1.5-km route. Dramatic illumination
and humidity-reducing blowers help
you walk down more than 150 feet
to what seems like the centre of the
earth. Multiple rows of stalagmites, the
Thousand Hoods meditation room, and
Pataalganga, a subterranean stream,
add to this surreal experience. Confront
can catapult you head first into the dark,
20-foot-deep prison pit. The tiny windows
located high above made fleeing impossible.
While walking within the fort precincts,
don't be surprised if you run into a goat or
are forced to dodge a motorbike or two.
For Gandikota village's Telugu-speaking
claustrophobia and crawl through
narrow passages and galleries filled
with beautiful sculptural rock form-
ations that are created when natural
acid in groundwater dissolves soluble
rock. Local guides speak only Telugu-
Dakhni, but hiring one is advisable
(open daily, 10.30 a.m.-5.30 p.m.;
entry 5 ; no cards).
SHORT BREAKS
~ r o m Bengaluru

..

The unfinished gopuram of the Rameswaraswami temple in Tadipatri, about 2.5 hours away.from Gandikota, is a mix of Chalukyan, Chola, and
Vijayanagar styles.
inhabitants, the fort's past as a site of
hectic political and military activity is nearly
forgotten. Now, it is equally amenable to
afternoon naps as sessions of kavade aata, a
local dice game. Take a nap in the monument
yourself or wander through the narrow alleys,
paved with slate grey Kadapa stone and
flanked by bright, painted doors. The lanes
offer a peek into lime-daubed courtyards
where Andhra chillies roast in the sun.
JEWEL FOR GODS Further inside the
village, the gopuram of the Dravidian-style
Madhavaraya temple towers into the sky.
It's the colour of the famous Tavernier Blue
diamond, which the gem merchant procured
for the French crown. A strong breeze propels
me into the now deserted temple that was
built (according to a local guidebook) by the
kings who founded the Vijayangar empire in
1336. Local legend says it was constructed
following a visit from its principal deity Lord
Madhavaswami. Though the use of granite
made intricate carving difficult, the temple's
sacred iconography evidently fascinated
Tavernier enough for him to dub it the "2nd
Humpy", according to a board outside the
fort. Notice the Vijayanagar-style, pillared
porch (maha mantapa) with rearing horse
hippogryphs (ya/i) and beautifully carved stone
tree maidens (sa/abhanjikas) flanking the
temple entrance.
RAGHUNATHA TEMPLE is a ten-minute
walk away. It is built along similar lines but
compensates for the lack of a dramatic
gopuram with erotic stone etchings located
in a discreet corner on the northwestern wall.
Since I have all the time in the world, I walk
behind the Madhavaraya temple to the now
dry royal water tank, raya/acheruvu, and follow
traces of an ancient pipeline back to the Jamia
Masjid.
PEARL IN THE WILDERNESS Long before
he craftily chose to ally with Aurangzeb, Mir
Jumla began his career as apprentice to a
diamond merchant. He is rumoured to have
owned the famous Kollur mines in Golconda,
as well as the legendary Koh-i-noor. It is said
that he presented the Mughal Emperor Shah
Jahan with a similar stone, in return for royal
favours, and went on to become the Mughal
governor of West Bengal. This expertise with
jewels is visible in the delicate lustre of the
Jamia Masjid that he commissioned. Built
in the Qutub Shahi style, the mosque creates
a beautiful relationship between symmetry
and spirituality. It has no dome, but two
ornamented minarets adjacent to each other,
connected by a perforated parapet. Flat-
pointed arches lead to a vaulted ceiling in
the prayer hall. Five arches were a metaphor
for the five sacred personalities (Panjatan-
e-Paak) of the Shia Muslim faith the Qutub
Shahis followed; the mosque here has three,
representing Allah, Prophet Mohammed, and
his son-in-law Imam Ali.
Like the locals I eat a packed lunch sitting
under the fragrant Akash Ganga or Indian cork
tree in the mosque. Later I walk past a pond
called Kathula Koneru, where Telugu kings
are said to have washed their swords after
battle. Near it is Mir Jumla's stone granary,
inside which a high-vaulted ceiling, imposing
columns and a play of light and shade reflect a
long-forgotten ethos that merged beauty with
functionality. Its minimalistic, almost religious
austerity drives home the importance of food
in this siege-prone military stronghold.
GOLD-TINTED SUNSETS As the sky turns
a delicate pink, I pass the Raghunatha temple
once more and make my way across the rocks
to the high point of Gandikota. Red sandstone
cliffs straight out of a Hollywood Western
create a sharp, 300-feet drop to the Pennar
gorge and offer a breathtaking view, especially
at sunrise and sunset. The banks of the river
once had a 17th-century landscaped garden
called Parebagh, with a man-made waterfall.
Apparently, a Persian inscription on a boulder
still appears here when the river runs low in
the summer-although no one seems to know
what it says.
The stone steps on the northern fort wall at
Parebagh are rocky and precarious, but they
offer a way down from the fort's bastions to
the sandy banks of the Pennar. Though the
official viewing point is near a rock face called
Sudigoonda, I decide to sit here and throw
my voice across the river. Within seconds,
there are echoes, as if from a past that has
been lost forever on the edges of time.
STAY
Gandikota is not a full-fledged tourist destin-
ation; it's more of an unconventional road trip.
APTDC Bart Guestbouse, ota
near the fort has clean, functional rooms
and a dormitory (99596 59353; doubles
from no cards).
The Mylavaram Dam and reservoir (above) is an important irrigation projectfor theAndhra
Pradesh government. On a good day, the reservoir doubles up as a pretty picnic spot.
YSR Haritba Ho Kadapa (84 km/1.45
hours from Gandikota) offers basic but
reasonably comfortable accommodation
(0856-240533/240192; doubles from
no cards).
EAT
(cost for two approximately meals
must be ordered in advance) while south
Indian cuisine is served at Navayuga Hills
in Jammalamadugu (13 km) and Sathyagiri
Lodge in Tadipatri (78 km).
Orientation
Gandikota is located in the YSR
(formerly Kadapa) district of the
Rayalaseema region in Andhra
Pradesh, northeast of Bengaluru
(283 km/5 hrs) and southeast
of Hyderabad (370 km/6.5 hrs)
via Kurnool.
Getting there
Air The nearest airport is
Bengaluru, which is well
connected with the rest of the
country. Taxis charge around
for the one-way journey.
Rail The closest railhead is
Kadapa (74 km). Taxis charge
around for the one-way
journey to Gandikota.
Road Direct buses ply from
Bengaluru to Kadapa, the
nearest interstate bus station
from Gandikota, and charge
approximately for
a one-way journey (7 hours).
From Kadapa (74 km/1.5
hrs), both private taxis and
The APTDC Haritha Guesthouse in
Gandikota offers simple, vegetarian meals
local buses are available to
Gandikota and Jammalamadugu
(taxis cost Autos from
Jammalamadugu (11 km/20
minutes) to Gandikota cost
around one-way. Local
buses are also available. Taking
your car is most convenient,
because the roads are in good
condition. If driving, take
NH7 out of Bengaluru via the
Devanahalli BIAL Airport road.
Hired taxis from Bengaluru cost
approximately for two
days, and charge per km for
side trips.
Getting around
Gandikota has no public
transport, so you'll need to
explore everything on foot.
Seasons
October-February, when
temperatures are between
21-30C, is humid, but a
pleasant time to visit. Summer,
between March
and June, is
hotter than
Andhra chillies
(30-44C) and
avoidable. There
is substantial
rain during the
monsoon (June-
Oct) turning
the landscape
green and the
weather a little
more pleasant.
Need to
lmow
Restaurants,
shops, medical
facilities are
non-existent in
Gandikota and

Erramala hills

Bel.um caves
along the Bengaluru-Gandikota
route. Pack water, snacks, and
all other essentials before
leaving the city.
Trekking down to the Pennar
river bank is not advisable.
There are no local guides
and tourist information is not
available. It is advisable to
travel by day.
Plan your journey only after
checking if the state's political
conditions are stable.
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SBORTBREAKS
~ r o m Mumbai
Both pilgrims and casual visitors can look beyond the sacred in Trimbakeshwar By ANDRE MORRIS
Maharashtra has afew jyotirlingas-
Trimbakeshwar (below), close to Nashik city,
Bhimashankar near Pune, Vaidyanath in
Parli, and Grishneshwar atAurangabad.
ost visitors toTrimbakeshwar
are religious pilgrims. The city
is all about its temples, the
--jyotirlinga, water tanks and
flowing rivers, samadhis of poets and saints,
and of course, the Kumbh Mela, held here once
every twelve years. It is, after all, the source
of the Godavari, one of the holiest rivers for
Hindus. But for both pilgrim and casual visitor,
there is a chance to look beyond the sacred.
The area's verdant serenity probably tempted
the venerable sages and gurus to come and
settle here-why else would one find an almost
decrepit temple dedicated to Muktabai ,
halfway up the hillside, surrounded by a
forest full of fruit trees and a lovely stone
mansion? A little way into the forest is a
stepwell that, even today, would have good,
clean drinking water if it weren't for the
garbage and litter that pilgrims deposit in and
around this sanctuary.
:.,'4 I
LORE
RISE AND SHRINE The Trimbakeshwar
temple is the area's biggest religious attraction.
The basalt stone temple was built by Peshwa
Nana Saheb upon losing a bet. It is one of the
twelve jyotirlingas (representation of Shiva)
around the country. For many devotees, Trim-
bakeshwar's lingam is the most important one,
possibly because it is the only structure with
three faces-embodying the trinity of Brahma,
Vishnu, and Shiva (open 5.30 a.m.-9 p.m. daily).
Nivruti Nath temple is where the local saint
Nivruti, the elder brother of Sant Dnyaneshwar,
is believed to have taken samadhi (salvation
through meditation); a black basalt tombstone
and temple mark the spot. Visitors and pilgrims
can often be seen meditating here, but it is in
January, when there is ajatra (fair) that his
devotees converge in large numbers (open 5
a.m. -10 p.m. daily).
MONKEY BUSINESS Aside from religion,
Trimbakeshwar is full of intriguing geological
and mythological features. If you fancy a hike,
head up the Brahmagiri Hill, to the spot where
the Godavari is believed to originate. Another
temple and a spring will alert you to the spot.
This is a difficult walk (2 hours) so go
prepared. Make an early start: The climb will
be cooler and you will have the trail all to
yourself. The track starts just beyond the ta/ab,
or tank, behind the Nivruti Nath temple (just
above the MTDC Resort). There are several
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~ Trimbakeshwar
One of the deities at the Trimbakeshwar temple (top left) is believed to have been adorned with a neel mani, or blue diamond. Allegedly, the storied
stone was appropriated by the British East India Company after the ThirdAnglo-Maratha War in 1818, and after a series of acquisitions, now rests
in Connecticut, USA, as the Nassak Diamond; Millions of devotees (top right) converge at religi,ous spots in and around Trimbakeshwar. Women,
however, are not allowed inside the main temple's sanctum; Pilgrim traffic is especially heavy during the Kumbh Mela (bottom left), held every 12
years; The mela- next in July 2015- is accompanied by the mushrooming of shops selling vermillion and other ritual accoutrements (bottom right).
tea stalls along the winding trail, which sell
cold drinks, fresh lime juice and other forms
of sustenance that your body will crave on the
trek uphill. My advice is to first get a walking
stick. They cost only 1 0 (if you return it, you
get a refund of 5 . The stick helps on the walk
up and down, but more importantly, it ensures
that the persistent, and sometimes aggressive,
monkeys are kept at bay. One actually climbed
onto my shoulders in an attempt to get at any
goodies in my daypack.
The first kilometre or so is along a well-used
trail and goes up gradually. Soon you will come
out onto a flat, thickly forested area, with plenty
of tall, shady trees and Karvi bushes. A couple
of hundred metres into the forest you come
across a dilapidated and seemingly abandoned
stone structure-this is the Muktabai temple
(described later). The trail then flattens out
and is very pleasant, but don't drop your guard
INSIDER TIP
Most people visiting Trimbakeshwar
come via the direct route from N ashik
city, 28 km away, but there's an easier
and more scenic route out. About 2-3
km out of Trimbakeshwar, turn right and
head to Awarli, 26 km away. This is a
nearly deserted road, when compared to
the main road to N ashik, with fields and
farms, majestic cliffs, and rock structures
on either side. Stop and marvel at their
stark beauty. From Awarli, take a right
for Ghoti and Igatpuri (another 27 km).
When you are a couple of kilometres
from the main Nashik-Mumbai
highway-you'll be able to see it-look
out for Ambali Wadi. There is a lovely
government resthouse on top of a little
hill here. If you're looking for a little
more solitude before returning to the
hectic pace of the city take a break here.
However, to book either of the two
suites you need to contact the rather
elusive N ashik PWD in advance
(doublesfrom ~ 8 0 0 .
If you have your own mountain bike
or even just a bicycle, you will love this
route either to or from Trimbakeshwar.
If you choose to go in to Trimbakeshwar
via this route, take a left turn 1 km after
crossing the toll plaza at Igatpuri, on
the Mumbai-Nashik highway. And if
you have the time, swing by Vaitarna
Dam as well.
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~ r o m Mumbai
Muktabai temple is wcated at Brahmagi,ri peak, adjacent to a serene stone mansion where visitors can rest awhile (left); In July this year, the Public
Works Department cleared a proposal to convert the Nashik-Trimbakeshwar Road into afour-lane highway, lined with banyan and peepal trees (top
right); Just past the source of the Godavari is a small, open shrine (bottom right) with ajyotirlinga, where devotees stop for a quick darshan.
yet, because the tough section is yet to come.
Soon you reach a flight of steps where a marble
plaque records the name of a donor who
funded the building and repair of the trail. From
this point till the top the way is steep and less
than two feet wide in some areas.
This is also the part of the trail where the
monkeys tend to accost you, especially if you
are carrying any visible food. Keep calm and
walk on. Even if they tug at your trousers, don't
panic-they are quite used to being shooed
away. There is no escape as you are on a steep
rock cliff and cannot jump aside anywhere ...
the monkeys have chosen their spot well. If
you've taken my advice and have a stick, just
wave it around and you'll be left alone instantly.
After huffing and puffing up the steep steps
you'll come out on to another open, flat, grassy
area from where it's a gentle climb to the top
of a ridge, and then a descent to the temple of
Brahmagiri and a spring. The spring water is
cold and refreshing-it is after all, the source
of the Godavari. The views are worth the trek:
One can see Anjaneri, one of the many places
believed to be the birth place of Hanuman,
Harihar, Fani Dongar, as well as a lake in the
distance. Looking towards Nashik, you will see
several other hills that appear to be cardboard
cut-outs. In the monsoons the entire area is
green and shrouded in mist. It's also a time
when several new waterfalls and streams
spring up. Bear that in mind when going up to
Brahmagiri during the rains.
FOREST HIDEAWAY I prefer to spend less
time on making it to the top of the hill and
more time around the temple of Muktabai,
Nivruti's sister who allegedly followed him
here to look after him. At first glance, the place
appears to be an overgrown jungle, but give it a
couple of hours. A little ahead of the temple is
a large two-storey stone mansion, the exteriors
of which blend in with the surroundings. Inside,
it is cool even on a hot day. Of course, rare is
the visitor that does not deface walls-here,
even the high ceilings are coated with the
names of their lovers. But there is still a charm
and appeal about the place. The walk up is not
too long or too tiring, and even in the monsoon
when the hills wear a misty cloak, the stone
hall offers shelter and warmth.
Sit under one of the many trees and give in
to the simple pleasures of hearing the birds
chirp and the wind gently rustling through the
leaves. Lost in my reverie, I suddenly noticed
that the trees are not wild, but carefully
planted guava, mango, lime, jackfruit, and
other fruit trees. I decided to wander around
a little and came upon a trail, nearly hidden
by the undergrowth. In a couple of minutes
I reach a large stepwell that is still in good
condition except for a part of the western
wall that is collapsing at the top. I find that
there is still plenty of water in the well but a
lot of garbage as well.
MYSTIC RIVER On the way down you may
want to traverse across the forest and make
your way to Gangadwar, this is where the
Godavari reappears after disappearing into the
hill at its source at Brahmagiri. As you reach
the temple of Muktabai, look for an obvious
trail on your left. This is an easy, flat walk and
has several spots under shady trees where
you can rest your weary legs while taking in an
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Trimbakeshwar
The Godavari, India's second-longest river that courses for 1,465 kilometres, is believed to originate in Trimbakeshwar,.from a gaumukh (mouth
of a cow) like this one (top left); The Brahmagiri Hills accord a wonderful vista ofTrimbakeshwar (top right), especially during the monsoon.
aerial vista of Trimbakeshwar. Gangadwar is
also where the nondescript Gautami caves are.
There is a small temple at the point where the
Godavari emerges out of the hill. Note that this
is nothing but a little trickle; it's only faith that
brings people here. A little further away from
Gangadwar are another small set of caves the
locals call Machindranath caves, which they
claim have 180 lingams, although I did not
see them.
STAY&EAT
Trimbakeshwar has limited options for
accommodation. All the hotels and lodges
Orientation
Trimbakeshwar is a city in the
Nashik district of Maharashtra.
It is 178 km northeast of
Mumbai.
Getting there
Air Although Nashik is the
nearest airport it is not very well
connected with the rest of the
country. Flying to Mumbai (178
km/3.25 hours) is easier. Taxis
charge for a one-
way trip from Mumbai.
Rail Many express trains
halt at Nashik (39 km/1
hour), the nearest railhead.
Taxis to Trimbakeshwar are
easily available at the station
(approximately
Road There is a frequent state
transport bus service between
Central Bus Stand, Nashik, and
Trimbakeshwar. If driving from
Mumbai, take NH3 (178 km)
or the Mumbai-Nashik
Expressway (203 km).
Getting around
The best way to explore
Trimbakeshwar and the
surrounding trails up to
Brahmagiri and Muktabai
temple, is on foot.
Seasons
The ideal time to travel to
Trimbakeshwar is between
October and March, when the
weather cools down. Summer
temperatures hover between
22-44C, while in winter (Nov-
Jan) it verges between 6-28C.
Monsoon (June-Aug) is also
a really pleasant time to visit,
when several waterfalls and
streams sprout up along
the way.
within the temple complex are vegetarian.
Hotel Sahvadri offers both AC and non-AC
facilities and meals (94225 06534; doubles
from
SanSmrtt Ho el used to be the MTDC resort,
and later Atithi International Hotel. It offers
basic amenities (97633 89545; doubles from
.
Godavari river
Brahmagiri h1Ds
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Pradesh .
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I
CHHATARPUR, f Saraiaf Toria
,
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STAY
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,MADHYA PRADESH
I
_I
Sarai at Toria celebrates Bundelkhand's ecological and
historical treasures I By ANNIE M. MATHEWS
t's golden hour at the Sarai at Toria.
The long evening shadows slither
into the grass and hiss down to the
__ sparkling river Ken, which is ablush
in the slow burn of the setting sun. The
early birds swoop past with raucous cries,
leaving the skies open to the hoots of the
nocturnal ones.
Soon, the pathways between the tall
grasses come alight with solar lamps. Pre-
dinner, around a fire and under the blazing
stars, hosts Raghu Chundawat and Joanna
van Gruisen, mingle with the guests. Over
a sundowner, they share their sightings
and insights of the day, with discussions
ranging from a roaring tiger startling a
herd of deer to the marvellous intricacies
of Khajuraho's sculptures. Because even
though the Sarai at Toria is a destination
in itself, its location in the heart of Madhya
Pradesh's Bundelkhand region makes it
an expedient caravan stop en route to
several places of historical and ecological
importance nearby.
ACCOMMODATION
Spread over nine acres of field and jungle,
Sarai is a luxury resort, but don't expect
to find bathtubs with rose petals or infinity
pools. Chundawat and van Gruisen, a
wildlife scientist-photographer team, who
also spent several years working with
tigers in neighbouring Panna National
Park, have brought their sensibilities to
the property. Their keen dedication to
ecological matters informed their decision
to build their spacious, eco-friendly
thatched cottages in compressed mud
using the traditional local method.
The interiors of each of these eight
pastoral cottages, with private porches
and courtyards, have been finished in
different rustic oxide shades. The aesthetic
detailing, and meticulous attention to
comfort and service, ensures both pleasure
and repose. Meals are part of the package
and are gastronomic delights; the spread
ranging from Chundawat's Malwa family
recipes to Joanna's continental ones.
Walks are aplenty-within the property,
by the riverbanks, or through the
neighbouring fields to the village of Toria.
All routes are a birder's delights, so if
you'd like a guide, many of the local staff
members double up as naturalists. The
resort also offers a morning or evening
boat ride on the Ken.
If you're looking to explore further afield,
Sarai at Toria also organi ses more offbeat
road trips and day visits. Explore the ninth-
century Ajaygarh Fort and plateau (45 km),
or the diverse architectural influences of
Panna town, located about half an hour
away. You can even choose to hop across
the Madhya Pradesh border into Uttar
Pradesh to view the fortress-city of Kalinjar
(73 km), or spend a soothing picnic day at
either the Pandav or Raneh falls close by
(doubles including meals and
on-site activities).
THE VITALS
Sarai at Toria is located offNH75 in
Madhya Pradesh, a short drive from
Khajuraho (23 km/ 20 mins) airport
and railway station. Visitors can also
take a train to the busy Jhansi junction,
182 km/ 3.5 hrs away. The resort
is open from 1 October to 15 April
( 0124-2356004/ 96852 93130; WWW.
saraiattoria.com) .
SHORT BREAKS
~ Uttarakhand
STAY
Be English at this Mussoorie manor I By DIVIYA MEHRA
riving through the crowded
twists and turns of the narrow
road leading up to Rokeby
Manor, I watched the scenes of
Landour Bazaar go by. Pine and deodars
punctuated a landscape of thatch-roofed
homes and antique shops. In the street,
pretty Tibetan girls sell knick-knacks in
the company of troops of monkeys, while
rosy-cheeked school children run down the
slope. All this, against the backdrop of a
lush, green valley. I stuck my nose to the car
window and tried to connect every scene
to my father's stories from his days at St.
George's College, Mussoorie.
Rokeby Manor-a bungalow with Raj-era
characteristics such as a slanting, red roof,
brick arches, and stone walls-sits on a
slight hill engulfed in clouds, overlooking the
Doon Valley. I discovered that the
manor, built in 1840 by a Captain
G.N. Cauthy, was inspired by
the writings of Scottish novelist
Sir Walter Scott, the author of
Ivanhoe. His narrative poem
Rokeby is about the battles
fought near the original
Rokeby Castle in England.
I had two days to tick off
my "Must-eat in Mussoorie" list: stick-jaw
candy and milkshake at Chic Chocolate,
pizza at the Clock Tower Cafe, and parathas,
memos, and Maggi at Chaar Dukaan. I
started early. Back at Rokeby, and two kilos
heavier, I contemplated cycling up the hill.
But I gave in to lethargy and instead strolled
toward St. Paul's Cathedral along a path
lined with pine trees and chirping birds.
Time ambles here and allows you pause
and reflection.
In his recent book, Landour Days, Ruskin
Bond wrote, "Landour itself is a magical
world, where every month has its own
flower, every walker his own style, and the
countryside is filled with a beauty, all its
own." Taking inspiration from the great
writer, I picked up a fallen flower and placed
it in my diary.
ACCOMMODATION
As I entered the big oak door, I was
transported to a different era: A wood-
panelled living room with a fireplace
surrounded by plump, upholstered couches
and a bookshelf with leather-bound classics.
Two cloth dolls, hand-stitched by local
artisans, stared at me from a glass case
next to an antique wooden telephone. I felt
part of an old mystery novel.
The rooms at the Rokeby, have nature-
themed names such as The Rhododendron,
Rose Suite, Acorn, and Pinecone. We were a
large group so we chose to stay at the cosy,
three-bedroom Log Cabin (from ~ 5 0 0 0 0
May-July; ~ 3 5 0 0 0 Aug-April; with breakfast).
The estate has cute, framed quotes
everywhere and a very English "Tea Garden",
which blooms with a variety of flowers.
The sun was setting and it started to
get cold. As the mist faded, the valley
which was a blur, just a few moments ago,
became visible. A little later, we sat in the
courtyard sipping tea and watched the
landscape of the town below glitter. The
following morning, Chintamani, the hotel's
friendly butler led us to the dining room
"Emily's", where the most scrumptious
breakfast awaited us: a spread of eggs,
bacon, pancakes, freshly baked breads, and
a variety of fruity jams and jelly. These
weren't even on my list-but I wasn't about
to start complaining.
THE VITALS
Rokeby Manor is located at an altitude
of 7,500 ft in the Landour Cantonment
area ofMussoorie, Uttarakhand. The
nearest airport is Jolly Grant, located
24 km from Dehradun. Mussoorie is
269 km from Delhi, and is well
connected by a state transport shuttle
service ( 6 hrs). Dehradun is the nearest
railhead 34 km away (135-2635604/
96344 43666; www.rokebymanor.com).
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NATIONAL
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TRAVELLER
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BIGSBOT
~ o n t e s t
NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC TRAVELLER INDIA'S MONTHLY PHOTOGRAPHY CONTEST
. . . . . .
..
Cricket fever
BY UDAYAN SANKAR PAL
Among the many things that amused
me on my trip to Ladakh was the playful
monks who I met there. Many of them
were only young children themselves,
priests in training. Here, I saw a group
engrossed in a fast game of cricket. This
particular shot was a six, and went on to
win the game for the crew.
Photo Contest
Next theme: In Praise of Winter
Send us pictures of your favourite winter
moments. It can be about food, culture, or
simply the way your neighbourhood looks in
the cold. Submit a single photo, along with
your caption (100 words).
DEADLINE
31 December 2013
HOW TO ENTER
Log on to www.natgeotraveller.in to
submit your photo or email it to bigshot@
natgeotrave//er.in with "Big Shot-In Praise of
Winter" as the subject.
For Terms and Conditions visit www.
natgeotrave/ /er. in/ bigshot/ bigshot_ tnc.docx
One winner will get a year's subscription
to National Geographic Traveller India, a
National Geographic fleece jacket, the book
History Through Headlines, and a telescope.
Runners-up get a free subscription
to National Geographic Traveller India
(12 issues).
INSPIRE
~ a p a n
Wisteria Tunnel
Kitakyushu, Japan
If there was ever a real-life
version of walking into a
surrealist, animated world, the
Wisteria Tunnel in Kitakyushu,
Japan would be it. Blanketed
by flowers, the tunnel is a
dry, twisted mass of vines
throughout the year. But in
spring it blooms to create
a corridor of elegant pastel
colours. The main attraction
of the Kawachi Fuji Gardens in
Kitakyushu on Kyushu Island in
southwestern Japan, it consists
of 150 wisteria plants of 20
different species. The wisteria
has delicate, hanging flowers
and elaborate branches that
make it a popular element in
ornamental gardens. Each
variety is a distinct shade and
is arranged to create varied
patterns and designs on
the tunnel walls. Every year
between April and May during
the Fuji Matsuri or the Wisteria
Festival, thousands of people
visit the gardens to catch the
tunnel in full bloom.
INSPIRE
Ireland
The Dark Hedges
Armoy, Northern
Ireland
The Dark Hedges is a stretch
of road in Northern Ireland that
provides the perfect setting for
a Gothic novel. The road is lined
with beech trees that have, over
the years, grown high enough
for their branches to entangle,
forming a continuous canopy.
The trees were planted in the
18th century by the Stuart
family, who wanted to impress
visitors coming down the road
to their mansion, Gracehill
House. According to locals the
stretch is haunted by the "Grey
Lady", who glides over the road
and disappears after passing
the last tree. Some say she is
a maid from a nearby house
who died under mysterious
circumstances, others say she
is a spirit from an abandoned
graveyard that was lost a long
time ago. When photographed
at night, the area's eerie beauty
is clearly on display.
(/)
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INSPIRE
Tunnel of Love
Klevan, Ukraine
The words Tunnel of Love
don't usually conjure images
of a railway line. But a three-
kilometre stretch of railway
track in western Ukraine seems
to have earned that moniker,
purely by accident. When the
private railway line was laid, the
surrounding vegetation was left
untouched. The line was used
to transport wood three times
a day to a fireboard factory.
The daily movement of the
train eventually moulded the
adjoining trees into this tunnel.
In the springtime, this arch
stretches for three kilometres.
In winter, it wears a fairytale
look when heavy snow covers
the trees creating a dreamlike,
romantic landscape. Couples
who want a few moments of
solitude are often seen strolling
through. It is believed that true
lovers who cross the tunnel
together are always granted
their wishes. It has slowly
turned into Klevan's biggest
tourist attraction.
(/)
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THE COMEBACK
~ e i s Magos Fort
An old Goa fort gets a new lease of life as a cultural centre
BY KARANJEET KAUR
t different points in its 462-
year history, Goa's Reis Magos
Fort has served as a military
outpost, a seminary, a jail, and
as inspiration to the famous cartoonist,
Mario de Miranda. The artist, who passed
away in December 2011, is also responsible
for the fort's latest iteration-a cultural
centre that hosts photography exhibitions
and concerts. This transformation is the
result of a tripartite agreement between the
Goa government, Indian National Trust for
Art and Cultural Heritage (INTACH), and
London's Helen Hamlyn Trust (HHT).
Until 1545, the village of Reis Magos
("Three Wise Men") was a Bijapur
Sultanate outpost. The fort's construction
began a few years after
Portuguese forces gained control of the area
and was finally completed in 1551, under
the viceroyalty of Afonso de N oronha.
I ts location on a precipice overlooking
the Mandovi river in the Bardez district,
was strategic-it acted as a buffer for Old
Goa, the capital of Portuguese Goa, nine
kilometres inland. Over the years, a church
and cemetery were added to the complex.
By the time the 20th century rolled in,
Reis Magos had lost its importance and
was turned into a jail, especially useful for
incarcerating freedom fighters. After the
end of Portuguese rule in 1961, it continued
to serve as a jail for independent India until
1993, when it fell into disuse for the next
17 years. In the intervening years, Miranda
in his capacity as the convener of INTACH,
approached the HHT to fund the complex's
restoration, which began in 2007.
"The fort was completely intact, but
the buildings inside the fort had been
modified and changed so many times,
that it didn't reflect what they were in the
past;' said architect, Gerard da Cunha,
who spearheaded the fort's refurbishment.
The only sources that da Cunha and his
team had were some sketches of the fort
from 1862 and some photographs dating
back to 1900. To renovate the floor, which
had sunk in several parts, the team drew
from contemporaneous structures like the
Bishop's Palace in Panaji.
The biggest challenge da Cunha and his
team faced was recreating the military-style
tapering roofs. "We used the methodology
of that period, and worked with lime,
mortar, and stone;' he said. The original
roofs were built with interlocking Roman
tiles that kept houses cool but were
impracticable for heavy rains. The team
scoured ruined or abandoned buildings for
1,00,000 such Roman tiles, that had slowly
been replaced with Mangalore tiles in the
last 100 years. In addition, they had to
remove several structures, such as a kitchen
and bathrooms that had been added when
the fort was being used as a jail.
Ironically, the Goa Ancient Monuments
and Archaeological Sites and Remains
Act of 1978 did not allow the structure
to be used for any other purpose than for
which it was originally built. Spelled out,
the restorers could not add electricity and
water connections necessary to turn the
fort into a cultural centre. Those troubles
are now in the past (the Act was amended
in 2012)-and perhaps the fort's wise new
avatar will serve as the blueprint for our
other heritage structures.

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