After spending over two weeks in thirty plus degree weather, Vic and I are ready to temporarily spend time in the hills of India for a cooler climate. From April to May, when temperatures can reach 40 degrees, it is common for Indians to flee to the hills to escape the scorching heat.
We take a 5 hours windy bus journey to Ooty, considered one of the India’s favourite hill stations. By the time we get there, it’s evening and quite a sight to see Indians decked out in scarves, jackets and big woollen hats. It’s winter and cold for the locals but at 18 degrees, for us Canadians used to cold weather, it’s perfectly balmy.
We came to Ooty to do a little hillside trekking and easily find a local guide to take us through the hills the next day. Sini, our guide, arrives at our hotel in the morning and we walk to the bus station to take a short journey out of the town into a more rural area.
The starting point of our trek is a popular area for Bollywood movies to be filmed, and coincidentally, a movie is being filmed that very day. We watch for a bit before continuing on our way.
Sini is great at pointing out all the different types of flora and fauna on our trek and has a habit of pausing every time he finds animal feces to identify what it is. He quickly points out the feces of wild rabbit, wild pics, deer, cheetahs and antelope. Half hour into our trek, he points to yet again more feces, “you know what that is?” he asks us. I dunno, more antelope perhaps?
“It’s tiger, old. About two-three months.” Uh, excuse me. Tiger, did you say?
“Tigers? There are tigers out here?” I ask. Sini suddenly has my full attention.
“Yes, 1 bengal tiger every 15 miles. I’ve seen tiger 5 times. Once with 2 British ladies over there (he points up ahead) and we slip down the mountain.” Sini continues with all of his stories, loving each one, completely oblivious to the concern in my voice.
We trek through an unmarked path past a lake, bush, forest and villagers for four hours before taking a break for lunch. The entire time Sini makes a point of pointing out anything tiger related. An antelope skull (tiger food). Marks on a tree (tiger scratches). A hole in the ground (tiger tracks).
A group of howling monkeys rain down and scare the crap out of us during a short break during our trek. And during lunch over vegetables thalis, a full on fist fight erupts right by our table between a drunken villager and the proprietor of the restaurant. But (thankfully!) no actual tigers for the day. Strangely enough, I think Sini is somewhat disappointed.
