New Delhi

Our next port of call was New Delhi. We knew our friend, Abhi, was in the vicinity, and we hoped to connect with him if possible, and the chance was much greater the farther north we went. Unfortunately, the timing of that didn't really work out, but that is likely for the best, because I was ill. Again.

I don't want to jump ahead too much, so I will begin this story in Aurangabad. As Jon has alluded in his blogpost, everyone in Aurangabad was apparently headed in the same direction, but we were able to grab the last two seats on a sleeper train leaving from Jalagon—a city approximately three hours' bus trip to the north (winning!)

To make sure we boarded our noon train on time, we were on the first bus headed out of Aurangabad to Jalagon, which left at 7 am and should ensure a 10:30 arrival. Unfortunately, our bus broke down halfway there. Fortunately, a very sweet teenager stood out in the rain to flag down the next bus to Jalagon, and made sure we were on it. Unfortunately, this led to a 4.5 hour trip. Fortunately, we still had plenty of time due to a train delay, and it meant we weren't in Jalagon very long.

And so it goes in India; the hand of fate changes swiftly and often without notice, but it will certainly reverse direction, so it's best to simply sit back and enjoy the ride. (In regards to Jalagon, I have nothing nice to say about this city. When our bus did arrive, we were greeted by an act of public urination. A woman approximately my own age, who did not appear to be disabled or impaired in any way, simply hoiked up her sari right next to the bus. Not even bothering to duck behind a nearby tree. Seriously????)

When we got on our sleeper train, we found some used bedding, and 7 people in our 4 person compartment. Jon was kind and accommodating, but I was deeply annoyed. I think my lack of graciousness was somewhat obvious, because three of the people left the compartment shortly thereafter, leaving 2 adults and 2 rather bratty children. Partway through the trip, these individuals left, and two men with big bellies—fuel tanks for their snoring machines—took their places. If it sounds like I was feeling a wee bit grouchy, I was. By this age, I should handle fatigue a bit better, but I simply don't. Stay out of tired Monique's way!

So after an epic 25 hours, we arrived in New Delhi, a city that—admittedly—deeply intimidated us. We had not heard the best things—sexual harassment, safety concerns, general hassles, and cleanliness issues—so we emerged from the bus anticipating difficulties getting to our hotel. And to our surprise and delight, there were none! Kind and helpful people at the bus station directed us to the appropriate bus that was idling at the station, the driver let us know where to disembark, the streets were free of rubbish, and there were actually sidewalks! Sure, we did pass a man crouched on the sidewalk intently tapping on an amber syringe of liquid, which I could only infer was heroin. But the sidewalk was there, and it was clean!

After a brief wander around the Paharganj area, and an overpriced rickshaw ride later, we found ourselves staying on the 6^th floor of a hotel in the heart of the backpacker district, which is right off the main bazaar. An area full of character, but decidedly less clean than the aforementioned avenues. After we checked in, I have absolutely no idea what we did, so I'm guessing it wasn't very memorable? (For some reason, we both have little recollection of that day.) I can tell you we booked a city tour in two day's time, and had dinner at a nearby restaurant.

The following morning, we decided to check out various shops around Connaught Place, and Jantar Mantar, an ancient observatory of sorts. (They tried to sell us 'gently used' tickets here—ones that had already been torn, so they could just pocket the money, but we weren't having it.) I was decidedly impressed the Raj was so preoccupied with the movement of celestial bodies—enough to build several spectacular astronomical devices in the early 1700s. However, I later discovered the motivation behind this was to correctly assess auspicious dates. So maybe not the most scientifically minded regent (as I had originally hoped), but impressive nevertheless. Anyhow, we had a great deal of fun checking out the crazy looking instruments before heading to the main bazaar for a bit of a browse. 

 

Since it was a terribly hot day, we rationalized stopping in at a Costa Coffee to soak up the AC and have a drink. I suppose this set us off on a “Westernized” bender, because I ate some Mexican food for dinner, which was only distinguishable as such by the title of the dish. (Not to say it was bad, it was simply very different from what I'm used to in Texas.)

For us, the highlight of the day was witnessing several long and intense battles playing out over the rooftops of the city. There was blood, sweat, tears, and...colorful squares of paper flying high in sky. Yes, we're talking about kite-flying; not the stuff of the saccharine Mary Poppins' melodies, but the fighting kind! We watched intently as the kid on the neighboring roof cut down two of his rival's kites before losing two of his own (and a bit of his pride). So after a quick dash out, we found a kite shop and stocked up on several kites for him. It was partly selfish because we were eager to see the battles continue! 

Our kite-flying friend concentrating on the battle

Kite-flying action shot (including one hungry child inexplicably eating his kite in the background)

The next day, we went on the city tour, which was a bit of a farce. It started an hour late, nobody was on time, the tour guide exhibited lackadaisical attitude about timings, we only saw about 50% of the itinerary, had insufficient time at several of the places we did stop, and far too much time at shop selling tourist tat thanks to our guide's eagerness to collect a commission. In addition, apparently all the tour buses like to travel in convey, so it means hundreds of people at each site at a given time. This was particularly problematic at the Lotus Temple, where we were told 20 minutes, then 30, then “only 15 for photo” but some people went in instead and spent 1.5 hours there, while all of us waited on the sweltering bus. (No apologies from those individuals, no comment from the tour guide, so it was no wonder people were chronically late.)

However, the tour wasn't all bad, because we made a few new friends (two sweet Iraqi brothers who were studying in Aurangabad and an English guy who we hung out with for the next few days), and got to see several amazing places, which included a massive Hindu Temple, Biria Mandir.

We then stopped briefly to see Parliament and the Prime Minister's house, with a longer stop at the Indira Gandhi museum. (I honestly know little about her, aside from the fact that her treatment of several ethnic groups was...controversial..shall we say? But after seeing the museum, I am interested to find out more about her, and her son, who was also assassinated.) While the aforementioned places were interesting, hands down, our favorite stop of the day was the Qutb Minar, a tower built in 1192 and a designated UNESCO world heritage site. Both the tower and the complex are absolutely stunning, a real work of art and architecture. Jon and I had skipped lunch to get a bit more time there—which we definitely needed—and we were both completely smitten. The rich mosaic of colored sandstone is really unique and the overall effect is simply breathtaking.

We saw the outside (but not inside...grrrr) of the fantastic Lotus Temple.

 

The final stop of the day was at Gandhi's cremation site, which was situated in a lovely green space, full of squirrels and birds. It all felt very peaceful on the way in. Unfortunately, there were some people loudly hawking photographs for 100 Rupees immediately in front of the pyre, which felt rather wrong and disrespectful. I was also disappointed to see people spitting on the ground immediately around the pyre. Sigh.

That evening we had dinner with our new friend Mike, who takes beautiful photographs (these will definitely make you want to travel India) and also lived in Birmingham prior to his travels. Yes, it is a very small world. All in all, it was a really nice evening and a lovely dinner. So all was well until 1 in the morning when I regurgitated said dinner due to food poisoning. (Sad face.)

While I rested up the following morning, Jon headed back to the Lotus Temple to see it 'innards,' which are apparently as lovely as its exterior. He summed it up as, “one of the most calm and pleasant places of worship [he] has ever been to.” Ever the renegade, he trespassed on some government property to see the India Gate which led down to the capital building, where he snapped the following photograph before he was shooed away by police officers toting machine guns. 

 After bringing me gifts of Gatorade and shortbread cookies, Jon headed out for a few beers with Mike and a couple other guys. Meaning I got lots of time to Skype with my Mom, because that is what one does when one is ill, and yes, my mommy did make me feel lots better thankyouverymuch for asking.

The following day, Mike, Jon and I hopped on the lovely clean air-conditioned subway to check out Humayun's Tomb, which—according to the Lonely Planet—is a “beautiful example of early Mughal architecture built in the 16^th century, featuring a two-tone combination of red sandstone and white marble.” On the walk to the site, we stopped in a corner store that—randomly—stocked a million different British goods, prompting much excitement from the boys and the purchase of....two Indian beverages. After a slightly protracted walk, we arrived at the site; however, it was really really hot and none of us had the foresight to purchase water before entering. Ooops. Although we really enjoyed it, we left a bit earlier than we may have otherwise to glug down a few liters of that lovely H20. 

 

Our next stop was Gandi Smriti, which is a memorial on the site where Gandhi was assassinated by a Hindu extremist in 1948. The memorial consists of raised concrete footsteps to space on the lawn where he died. The house nearby has been converted into a museum, with the upper half featuring a series of somewhat unusual interactive exhibits and the lower half featuring a bit more historical information and several of his personal artifacts (i.e. walking stick, glasses, and sandals.)

After the museum, we headed back to the hotel, arriving with sufficient time for Mike to dash off to for his train, and for Jon and I to book our train tickets since we had finally decided on our next port of call, Amiritsar. Since we were able to leave in here were a few things we wanted to do before we left, namely visit the Red Fort and check out a Jain Temple that featured—what I'm guessing is—one of the world's only bird hospitals.

While the Jain temple was really pretty and featured an art deco style, the standout was definitely the bird hospital. I was completely and utterly charmed by it. Some of the little birds looked kind of sad, but I had complete faith in their doctor, who told me they “admitted approximately 30 to 35 patients each day” and had a strict rehabilitation program to get these birdies back on their feet and into the sky. His operating room was immaculate...the hospitals in Hyderabad could have learned a few lessons here.  (In keeping with their religious beliefs, only vegetarian birds are admitted as inpatients; non-veggie birds are treated as outpatients.)

After attending the light and sound show at the Red Fort—which gave us the opportunity to see a bit of the fort in cooler temperatures and an interesting (though somewhat protracted) history lesson to boot—we headed back to the guesthouse via McDonalds, where we picked up some McMasala Veggie Burgers.

Aurangabad

I am pleased to say that the journey was well worth it.

There's not much that I can say about Aurangabad itself, partly because I suspect that there is not much to say about it in general, and partly because we made very little effort to explore the town. We were not there for the city itself but for the nearby Ajanta and Ellora caves, which are billed as one of the top sights in India.

The morning after our arrival we took a three hour local bus, followed by a shorter trip on a dedicated bus that brought us to the bottom of a series of stairs that led up to the Ajanta caves. (If you were invalid, or just fat and lazy, you could hire four lucky men to carry you around the site.) I should say from the outset that “caves” is a complete misnomer and does an injustice to the fantastic things we saw in the Aurangabad area, which are a series of increasingly elaborate temples carved directly from one huge solid piece of rock.

The Ajanta caves comprise a horseshoe shaped area of cliff-face into which Hindus, Buddhists and Jains have created a series of more than 30 amazing temples over a span of around 900 years starting in the 2^nd century BC. Thus, each so-called 'cave' is tunneled directly into the cliff-face with thousands of tons of rock removed to create spacious rooms supported by numerous pillars. In Ajanta, several of these temples featured elaborate murals, much of which have miraculously survived.

We joined a friendly Indian family on a guided tour of some of the key temples. The guide was extremely well informed, however he focused primarily on the paintings within the temples for which Ajanta is famous.

Whilst the paintings are undeniably impressive, particularly in light of their age, and the stories they tell interesting, for me these paintings very much took second place to the incredible feats of creating the temples themselves. I can't even begin to imagine how many man hours it would have taken purely to excavate tons of rock from the cliff-face, before the skilled task of carving out the details of the temples could begin. A number of the caves were never completed, which gave an interesting insight into the process of creating them, but unfortunately our guide didn't really go into any detail on the creation process. 

 

The interiors .of the finished temples are all unique, but do follow similar themes. Obviously they each have a series of pillars to support the huge weight of the cliff-face above, and the focus of each temple is the idol at the far end. Photos can't really do the caves justice, because they really need to be appreciated in the context of seeing the raw rock from which they have been made, but here are a few samples to give an idea:

The area was crawling with thousands of centipedes which our Lego friend inspected closely.

On our return journey to our guesthouse we struggled to find a single rickshaw driver who would give us a decent price for the trip from the bus station (every one quoting over twice the amount we had paid to get there in the morning) so we decided to walk. After a while we were a little unsure as to whether we had passed our turning and so we approached a rickshaw driver for directions; rather than try to charge us for an extremely short journey, he informed us that it was around the next corner and that we would be better off walking. Having found a reasonable rickshaw driver (which are about as common in India as steakhouses) we subsequently hired him to take us around the remaining sights of the area over the next two days. Rickshaw drivers take note: it pays to be reasonable!

The following day our driver first took us to the Daulatabad fort which is pretty impressive in of itself, but also offers some great views of the surrounding area. The landscape is very different to the lush green which we had become used to in Kerala.

As I braved the sweaty climb to the very top of the fort (during which I was very glad that we visited first thing in the morning before it got really hot) Monique made friends with with elusive yet adorable Indian squirrels.

Next stop was the Ellora caves. Having been wowed by the Ajanta caves, we assumed that they couldn't top what we had seen the previous day. Incredibly Ellora managed to top Ajanta by a distance.

The 34 Ellora caves are spread over a long stretch of cliff-face, and again are a mixture of Hindu, Buddhist and Jain temples built into the rock.  They are more recent than the Ajanta caves, dating back to the 5th century, and their creation is part of the reason why a number of the caves at Ajanta went unfinished.  Whilst many of the Ellora temples were very similar to those which we had seen at Ajanta, a few stood out as bigger, more elaborate, and frankly better than what Ajanta had to offer—something I did not think would be possible.

Amongst the first of the Ellora temples we visited was a massive Hindu temple which included multiple massive carvings depicting the various deities and scenes from stories. I have never seen so many carvings on that scale before. Whilst Ajanta is renowned for its paintings Ellora is, understandably, famous for its stone carvings.

5'10" girl included for scale

The Hindu sculptors were clearly breast men

One “cave”, however, blew everything else out of the water; an enormous and elaborately decorated Hindu temple consisting of multiple buildings all created out of the same enormous piece of rock. The temple, which is really more of a palace, incorporated a number of smaller temples, was dug out from the top down over the course of 200 years. Taken out of context the buildings would be impressive when compared to many of the temples which we had seen on our travels so far, particularly because the level of decoration better than most. However unlike those other temples, it is surrounded by the raw rock from which it has been created, a reminder that you are standing in a massive negative space in the middle of what was once solid rock, and that every part of the temple is created from that same rock. None of the buildings or sculptures have been imported from elsewhere, they have all been carved directly out of the rock from the top down. It is really one of the most incredible things I have ever seen. Words cannot do it justice, and unfortunately neither can photos, but these might give a bit of an idea.

On the way back, we stopped by a quiet corner of Aurangabad to see some beautiful tombs of Muslim spiritual leaders. The tombs are also home to an important relic, part of a cloth robe purporting to belong to Muhammad. While it is only displayed once a year, it is possible to touch the gate that holds the relic and be (gently) hit with a broom to obtain some blessings.

The following day our driver had waited outside our guesthouse on the off-chance that we wanted to hire him again, and it was extremely lucky for us that he did. Firstly he was extremely helpful in assisting our travel plans onwards towards Delhi, which had not been as straightforward as we had hoped. One stop at a helpful travel agency followed by a trip to the railway where we scooped the last 2AC tickets to Delhi. 

We then headed off to the Aurangabad caves, which were nice, but remarkable mostly for the attention we attracted from the other visitors—everybody wanted their photo taken, and taken again...and again. Afterward, he took us to the Bibi Ka Maqbara, which is affectionately referred to as the “Mini Taj”. The building, a mausoleum like the Taj Mahal itself, is very impressive in its own right but also served as a sample of what we could expect to see when we get to Agra towards the end of our time in India. Much like the Taj Mahal, it was created for a loved one, only this was built by a son for his mother. Made of limestone, it is more fragile than the Taj, but with a considerably smaller price tag. 

 

Suitably wowed by everything we had seen, we prepared for a long, long journey to Delhi.

We get to Aurangabad, or (1000 miles/4 days)^(Indian transport + Monsoon) = Craziness

Okay, so it's not exactly a secret we're behind schedule on our posts, mostly because “updating the blog” falls far below “visiting 14^th century fortresses,” and only slightly above “underpants hand-washing time,” So I'm going to make this post as brief as possible. Well, as brief as my verbose, excessively articulated self will permit.

So we traveled from Wayanad to Aurangabad, which is a distance of approximately one thousand miles, or an estimated driving time of 25 hours according to googlemaps. Did we fly like normal, rational people? No, no, we did not. Flying is just too quick, too efficient, and because—apparently—we are neither normal nor rational people. Plus, just think of all that fun we would miss along the way!* 

So it ended up taking us 4 days/nights to make our way overland, and in a nutshell, our journey went a little like this: Walk, Bus, Train, Rickshaw, Rickshaw, Rickshaw, Bus, Train, Train, Train, Walk, Rickshaw, Train, Taxi. A slightly longer explanation follows, in which I switch to present tense to let our trip unfold in 'real time.' Yes, I like to flout grammatical conventions, because I'm crazy like that.

1. We walk the mile or so to bus station. This is not too bad, it's cool and reasonably early in the morning, and our packs are light. 
    
2. We get on the local bus from Manathavadi to Kannur. The seats are so narrow, I decide this vehicle is must be some kind of decommissioned school bus specifically sized for children. A man sits next to me, and his elbow is uncomfortably close to my hipbone, then my chest, then my hipbone, then my chest. I spend the next two hours engaging in the near-impossible task of positioning myself so there is no accidental touching, whilst trying to decide if I am paranoid or if he's some sort of disgusting miscreant. An answer that becomes abundantly clear to me in the last ten minutes of his journey time, when he leans across my seat and attempts to directly touch my breasts. Yay.
   
   
3. We are sitting on a train from Kannur to Mangalore in unreserved second class. It is rainy, and otherwise thankfully uneventful. We chat a bit with our seatmates, a friendly family of three. It is also our first exposure to a beggar who looks like he has been intentionally maimed and disfigured. This is very tough to see.
   
   
4. We try to get tickets for the sleeper train to Mumbai. We do this by waiting in the (very long) main ticket queue. After we finally arrive to the front, they direct us to information desk. The person at the information desk tells us there are no tickets at this office, but to go to a different train station 7km away, and there may be tickets there. Thirty minutes down the drain, we hop in a rickshaw to train station #2. 
    
5. We wait in the main queue for ticketing. A man finally appears at the window, who seems irritated by our request. He directs us to a second (closed) window. We wait another twenty minutes. The same man appears at the second window, and without accessing any information, informs us that all sleeper trains to Mumbai are booked solid for the next week. Apparently the lack of space on this train is simply “common knowledge,” which could have been communicated at the first train station, or even the first window at the second train station. 
    
6. I experience some quandary over who I should punch in the face first. 
    
7. We pay 50% over the odds for a rickshaw back to Mangalore city center due to collusion among the drivers and complete lack of options.
   
   
8. I ponder the meaning of “justifiable homicide.” 
    
9. Naturally, our preferred hotel is full, as is our second, third, and fourth option. So we wander about in the rain, not finding a hotel, but an extremely helpful travel agency, who suggests a sleeper bus option. We finally find a hotel that is across from a mall. A lovely lovely mall.
   
   
10. We eat at Pizza Hut for dinner, and we amble about the mall. We love the lovely mall. We swoon at its many stores, air-conditioning, and Westernized vibe. When we leave the following afternoon, we have no compunctions about how we spent our time in Mangalore. After the butt-kicking we received in the past few days, such delights were greatly needed.
     
11. We get on our sleeper bus from Mangalore to Mumbai, which we have booked online. We are pretty sure we have arrived in paradise. AC, power outlets, smooth suspension, bottom bunk, and television screens featuring our friend—Amir Khan—in a variety of music videos. We watch Side Effects on our laptop, which we thoroughly enjoy until the actors begin speaking in Arabic for the last fifteen minutes of the film. We actually get some proper sleep. 
     
12. We are dropped off in Mumbai in the middle of Nowheresville. After some kind assistance from locals, we are directed to a train station. Walking toward the train platform, we see approximately 20 people clinging to the doorframe of each train carriage. As we gawp, a man runs past us, jumps onto the mass of passengers riding outside the carriage and begins punching them in the head in an effort to clear a handhold. These people are clinging to the outside of the speeding train with their fingertips. In the torrential downpour of a monsoon. We decide to wait until we can get some space inside (v. outside) the train, because it shouldn't take too long.
    
    
13. An hour and a half passes, and we are still here. Finally, we make a break for it. I'm able to secure a space in the ladies carriage, while Jon is mostly inside an adjacent carriage, a fact that doesn't matter much, given the vertical river moving in the sky. He emerges drenched, but has successfully protected our laptop from the deluge. 
     
14. We change trains and hop on a blissfully empty carriage, but almost instantly regret it because it smells of rotten fish. We debate getting off to switch carriages at the next stop, but are actually thrown off the train by security because we are in the ladies' carriage. And Jon ain't no lady. 
     
15. We wait for our third train of the morning, which is indeed lucky, because we take this baby all the way to the final station. We are shell-shocked, and the rain is not letting up. Jon says, “This is like Mumbai is telling Kochi, 'That's not a monsoon, this is a monsoon.'”
     
16. We walk to our hotel in the rain, which is superfuntimes, particularly because it has been billed as “exceedingly difficult to find” We get there, dry out, relax, and then spend the next 24 hours enjoying Mumbai despite the weather. We check out an art exhibition, eat dinner at one of our old favorite restaurants off Colaba, and walk along the seawall during an intermission in the rain. It's all very pleasantly familiar. The next day we visit the Prince of Wales museum (v. good) before grabbing a (blissfully metered) taxi to the train station for our trip to Aurangabad. 
     
17. We find our seats on the train. Jon and I are seated across the aisle, but we are simply happy to have assigned seats. I am next to a family of four with two small children of ages 1 and 3. The parents are lovely, and do their best to keep their kids content on the long journey, although—like every family we've seen in India—they have brought nothing for the children in the way of entertainments. Jon sits behind a massive family of six who appear to have only purchased four seats for the journey. We are amused by the contrast between the patriarchs of the families. The father next to me stands in the crowded aisle so his son will have room to sleep, rocks the baby, and is in charge of toilet trips. The father in front of Jon does not appear to take notice of the comfort of his brood, who are all stacked on top of each other. In fact, he appears to not notice them at all. Jon reads National Geographic along with the man next to him, who peers over his shoulder the whole time. After he finishes the magazine, I suggest offering it to Nosy Neighbor, who—naturally—is no longer interested. 
     
18. We have a free pickup from our hotel, a small luxury, but a delightful one. The driver makes a beeline for us... we are the only Caucasians on the train. After a short drive, we arrive at our hotel. It looks clean, and we are happy. We have finally arrived. The journey of a thousand miles may have begun in eagerness, but it has ended in exhaustion. I'll leave it to Jon to let you know whether it was worth it. In the meantime, here are a few snaps from Mumbai. 
    
     
    
    
    
    * (In fairness, there were no direct flights to Aurangabad, those flights that did exist were prohibitively expensive, and we just couldn't make up our minds about when to move on.)
    
    

Wildlife Spotting in Wayanad

As we rode our luck with the weather quite considerably in Alleppey we decided to give Kerala's beaches farther South a miss and head North to Wayanad Wildlife Sanctuary to do some wildlife spotting. So we took a train to Calicut/Kozhikode from where we took a bus up into the mountains to Kalpetta, a small town that is (relatively) conveniently near Muthanga national park.

There is very little to be said about Kalpetta. We settled into our chosen guesthouse which appeared to have last been renovated sometime in the 1950's (only did the rarely trodden areas right around the skirting board and under the bed reveal that there was actually carpet of sorts on the floor) and ate dinner at a nearby restaurant for the princely sum of $1.50 between us. Monique started gaining her wildlife spotting badge early by snapping the biggest grasshopper just outside our room.

Very early the following morning we checked out of the hotel, and took the 2 hour bus ride to Muthanga where we arranged a jeep tour through the park (after being charged some unofficial additional charges in addition to the usual significantly higher foreigner rates – something we have unfortunately become quite accustomed to). We were pretty excited as we had been informed that this was the best place in Kerala to see wild elephants. Although we had seen 4 already they had either been a blur as we passed by them by bus, or had been quite a distance away. We wanted to see real wild elephants up close and personal.

Our tour guide gave us lots of confidence; his head constantly flicked from one side to the other surveying the surrounding forest for animals like a little meerkat looking out for predators. If there was wildlife to be spotted we were pretty sure that Mr. Meerkat would spot it. Things started off well with a group of wild deer close to the jeep very early on, including two stags locking horns, which was quite impressive.

Those were the first of literally hundreds of deer we saw during the tour, including one big group of about 50 in the distance, and loads of smaller groups much closer. We also saw various monkeys, a mongoose, and a giant flying squirrel. Unfortunately they were all too quick to get photos of, but some huge termite mounds (up to 2m high) stayed still for us to snap.

The excitement cranked up a notch when Mr. Meerkat spotted some fresh tiger tracks near to a puddle in the road.  Although the chances of seeing a tiger were extremely slim, just imagining such an endangered animal drinking from that puddle shortly before was pretty cool.  It was, however, slightly less cool to imagine that same endangered creature taking a dump just a few feet away as it had evidently done.
 
Such was our eagerness to see something exotic that any sort of movement in the surrounding forest became worthy of excitement.  "What's that?" I asked, pointing towards a number of large creatures moving in the undergrowth.  "Domestic cow" came the deadpan reply from Mr Meerkat.

Unfortunately the tour ended with an anti-climax. Needless to say that we did not spot a tiger, but nor did we see any elephants. Seeing hundreds of wild deer fairly close was really nice, but it wasn't what we had visited Wayanad to see. Consequently we left Muthanga a little downheartened, and with a difficult decision to make as to whether to stay another day and visit Tholpetty park, where the chances of seeing wild elephants were apparently lower, or to continue our way further North.

The day was still young, however, so en route back to Kalpetta we stopped via the Edakkal Caves to see some cave carvings dating back to 5000 BC, some of the oldest known carvings in the world. Having agreed with our rickshaw driver that he would wait for an hour for us we were slightly surprised to find that the route to the “cave” was up a lung-bustingly steep winding path that took about 40 minutes to climb up (although a good 10 minutes of that time was taken up when we came across a group of monkeys laying siege to some cars and stopped to take photos of them whilst a man, presumably the owner of one of the vehicles, tried to chase them off with a stick without any success).

Before entering the “cave” at the top of the climb we took some time to take in the breathtaking views. According to the Lonely Planet, Wayanad is considered to be the most beautiful part of Kerala. For my money the views on Munnar were more beautiful, however from this viewpoint the terrain dropped down extremely rapidly making for really dramatic scenery that made the climb up well worth it.

As for the “cave” itself, it is less of a cave and more of a rift with a roof made up of some very large fallen rocks that looked a little precarious for my liking. The carvings were really interesting, and unlike anything I've ever seen before; amongst the many undecipherable markings were clear images of human forms and faces. It's really hard to believe that they were made over 7000 years ago.

After some consideration we decided that as we had come all this way to see wild elephants it would be silly not to give it another go while we had the chance, so we decided to stay another night and head to Tholpetty park as early as possible the following day (having been told a very early tour would maximise our chances) and then move onwards afterwards. First, we had to suffer an incredibly frustrating afternoon/evening of trying to check into a suitable guesthouse as near to the park as possible.

First we took the bus to Manathavadi which was straightforward, however it was raining when we arrived and each and every guesthouse/hotel we enquired at informed us that they were fully booked because it was the high season for them (despite the town appearing to be dead and there being a number of keys hanging up behind reception at one guesthouse). We were directed towards one guesthouse which we were assured would have a room available, however the room which we were shown (available at a pretty outrageously high price) stank so strongly of urine that we could probably have discounted it before opening the door. We're not particularly picky when it comes to where we sleep, but that smell would probably have killed us during the night.

Soaking wet and fairly pissed off we decided to take a rickshaw to a town even closer to Tholpetty and which would make our planned early arrival at the park even easier. En route we stopped at a hotel which looked like it had some potential; we explained our situation to the hotel owner who informed us that it was not the high season at all (as we had expected) but that the majority of guesthouses in the area were not willing to let rooms to foreigners because to do so required them to fill out some additional forms for the local authorities which they were not willing to do. Nice! Without much choice we continued on our way only to be informed in no uncertain terms by every guesthouse we spoke to that there were no rooms available (one hotel owner was so vehement in shooing us off his property that if he had had something in his hand I'm sure he would have thrown it at us!). The feeling of being unwanted was palpable and deeply unpleasant to say the least.

Fortunately, just as we were at our wits' end we finally found some helpful people who confirmed what we had previously been told about the reason for being refused a room and gave us a list of three places back in Manathavadi that were worth trying. We took a bus back and with a huge amount of relief found that a guesthouse right next to where the bus dropped us off had really nice rooms available for a really low price and had an owner who couldn't have been more nice and helpful, even directing us to a delicious and ridiculously cheap restaurant. We were exhausted, stressed, wet and incredibly grateful for finding a place that didn't discriminate against us for not being Indian. Our long, long day had consisted of bus; bus; jeep; bus; rickshaw; walk up a mountain; rickshaw; bus; bus; walk in the rain; rickshaw; walk in the rain; and one final bus. Tholpetty had better be bloody worth it!

The following day we woke up before dawn determined to make it to the park at its opening time of 7 am. Our wonderful guesthouse was located right by the bus stop for Tholpetty which greatly assisted this aim, and with the help of some locals we got on the bus in the right direction. The bus journey was brightened up considerably by the sight of a group of wild deer, and then another, and then another. Whilst we had already seen hundreds of wild deer the previous day it was certainly a welcome sight to our tired eyes and surely bode well for further wildlife spotting that day. Then, unbelievably, we drove right past two wild elephants feeding right at the side of the road. Tholpetty was worth it before we had even arrived! We couldn't contain our excitement, and luckily the other passengers on the bus also seemed excited by the sight so we didn't feel too much like silly tourists.

Once again we arranged a jeep tour upon our arrival, but this time we were the first of the day to pass through the park. Initial signs, however, weren't great; in contrast to Mr Meerkat. our guide did not fill us with confidence. We weren't sure that he would have even spotted the elephants which we had already seen on the way, and our driver seemed more interested in his mobile phone than in stopping to look at anything. Our first sighting was of a wild boar which I spotted before the guide and which the driver went straight past before reversing far too late to get a good look.

For some reason our guide was particularly excited by peacocks. We had seen a few the previous day, but as we had both seen plenty before in the UK, US and already in India we weren't particularly excited by them. Our guide, however, acted like they were super rare and the most exciting thing to spot in the park. Annoyingly this had the effect of getting our hopes up for something actually exciting each time he anxiously directed our attention to yet another bland pea-hen.

Again we saw loads of deer of different types, including some fighting females and a stag who reared up to full height on his back legs to warn us off his harem.

We did see some more monkeys and a kingfisher, however time was ticking on far too quickly and our guide was pointing out far too many unoccupied areas which he informed us were usually popular with elephants early in the morning. We were nearing the end of our allotted time, and our driver seemed keen to get back promptly so was no longer even stopping for long to watch groups of deer (or even peacocks!). 

It's amazing how, when you really, really want to see an elephant, things start to look a lot like an elephant; rocks, trees and even cows got my heart racing at various points (yes, the rear of a cow from a distance can look surprisingly similar to an elephant!).  However as time passed our optimism waned, and I got the distinct impression that our guide had also given up.

But then, out of nowhere, we saw the most beautiful sight; a fully grown male elephant drinking from a river just to the left of the road. After having given up hope we were absolutely elated. We watched for a few minutes as he repeatedly drank from the river, first spraying the water into his mouth and then spraying the remained back out. After a short while he turned and started walking away, perhaps aware of our presence, however he then stepped back down to the river slightly further away and continued to drink. It was absolutely incredible how gentle such a large creature could be so gentle and even graceful as he lowered himself down to the water, and amazing to watch him playfully spraying water around. It made all the difficulties in getting to Tholpetty well worth it.

After watching for quite a while our guide insisted that we head back, and we reluctantly left our new friend behind us. Our guide still insisted on pointing out yet another bloody peacock, which stood very little chance of making any impact on us given our excitement. Incredibly only a few moments later we saw another elephant, this time an even larger male, albeit a little further away, strutting through the forest towards us swinging his trunk from side-to-side. We were completely content after seeing the first elephant, so this one really was the cherry on top. We watched him strolling through his territory until he passed out of sight.

 

Our experience in Wayanad is pretty typical of our experience in India generally, albeit in a somewhat exaggerated way. Almost everything in India is hard work and just when you feel like you're getting on top of things there is an unexpected difficulty to set you back again. However, just when you start to feel like India is grinding you down, it throws up a friendly person who goes out of their way to help you or an experience that makes all the hard work worthwhile. In terms of time the vast majority of our time in Wayanad was fairly unpleasant, however the memories of the highs will long outlive the memories of the lows.