Unlike yesterday, today has been the epitome of a perfect day on holiday. We were up early for a quick breakfast before setting off by rickshaw to the Keoladao National Park. It used to be the Maharajah’s hunting grounds and is now a wildlife sanctuary with a huge variety of birds. Apparently there are fewer species than there used to be, because the government diverted the water to supply people, meaning the lake is now much smaller, but it still looked pretty good to us. It was cool but not cold and incredibly peaceful. There weren’t many other visitors when we set off at 7am, though those who had made it out early all seemed to be serious Indian twitchers with massive telephoto lenses playing the game of ‘mine’s bigger than yours’. David pointed out they ... read more

Will the mist ever clear to give us a decent view of the Nilgiri Hills? We set off optimistic as ever, this time to a couple of viewpoints a few kilometres out of Coonoor. First up is Lamb’s Rock. Mr Hussain enters into heated discussion with a man lurking at the entrance then tells us he will show us round for 100 rupees. On the basis that Mr Hussain usually warns us off guides, we agree. It’s billed as a trek but in fact consists of a round trip of just a kilometre. As ever, the view into the valleys is shrouded in mist, but the guide does show us lemon grass growing wild. He points out a village that has appeared in the valley a couple of thousand feet below us. “Tribal people live down ... read more

The first night in the Wayanad hills, we are the only guests. We have a pleasant meal which is slightly marred by the fact that one or both waiters spend the entire meal watching us, and waiting to serve another spoonful of food. We’re not sure if this is the novelty value of having non-Indian guests, or if there is just a big cultural difference between India and the UK. The waiters serve us a spoonful of each dish, then hover nearby waiting for us to consume that, so they can serve the next spoonful. The constant scrutiny makes us feel slightly uncomfortable, but we’re starting to think that’s just expected behaviour here. David thinks any discomfort is due to the fact that we are not used to having servants; in the days of the Raj ... read more

I love morning game drives. Out at dawn, in time to watch the sun come up over the forest. It’s cool but not cold, in the breeze created as you drive in an open jeep. The air is fresh, and smells slightly of smoke, either woodsmoke from the villagers' fires, or from the controlled but now dead fires set along the paths in the forest to improve the chance of seeing animals. So the first ten to twenty feet from the road is dark grey, with a scattering of ash and some lines of white where logs have slowly smouldered out of existence. Beyond that there is sometimes forest and sometimes scrub. The forest consists of mostly spindly trees, well spaced out, with skinny silver trunks, interspersed with some bigger trees with dark bark that looks ... read more

Indian hill stations are not what we expected. We had a romanticised mental picture of English style buildings dating back to the Raj, clinging to the hillside in small towns. Well, the houses cling to the hillside all right, but traces of the Raj are few and far between. Coonoor and Ooty are both surprisingly large towns, and the 17km drive between them has few stretches that are not also settled. The houses are brightly coloured boxes of different sizes and shapes, almost filling large sections of the hillside, but often leaving space for a few cultivated terraces in between them. One settlement is, bizarrely, a massive billboard, with dozens of identical homes all painted bright yellow and emblazoned with the logo of a cement company. We are nonplussed to drive past a needle factory – ... read more