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Published: December 19th 2005
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Canters
Here's an action shot from inside the canter, taken at high speed and at incredible risk to my safety (not really). That I managed to make it to Sawai Madhopur in the first place seemed to me like somewhat of an accomplishment. The signs at the Jaipur and Tonk bus stations had been exclusively in Hindi. Yet somehow, by asking people randomly for help, I happened upon the ticket collectors for my desired buses, who in each case escorted me to the proper vehicle.
Sawai Madhopur struck me as a dirty, overgrown village. The real reason I had come was to see some animals at Ranthambhore National Park. Of course, there were plenty of animals of the pig, dog, goat, and cow varieties to be seen wandering the streets of town. But specifically, I was interested in tigers.
The method of choice for wildlife viewing in the park is the canter safari. The canter is a sort of open-topped truck that seats some 20 people. (Picture a D-Day landing craft with wheels and you won't be far off.)
I was picked up by the canter at my hotel, and it raced down the road to the park entrance. The pace only slowed down somewhat even once we were in the park. I couldn't help but think that any tigers
Ranthambhore Fort
Monkeys rule the fort at the park entrance these days. Maybe I'm a simpleton, but I thought it was pretty neat to be able to walk right up next to real chimps. around would hear us from miles away and go into hiding.
Nevertheless, once inside the park, there were plenty of animals to be seen: spotted deer, sambar deer, monkeys, peacocks, warthogs. The scenery was beautiful, even at high speed. There were lakes, rocky cliffs, thick forest, abandoned temples and hunting hides. As the trip went on, it began to seem that there would be no tiger spottings for our group, and there weren't. We spent the last hour being covered by dust from the canter in front of us that we followed out of the park.
I went to dinner that night at a nearby hotel to eat with the 55 year old Australian guy who had come in on the same bus from Tonk as I had. He and I had riden triple on a tiny motorbike from the bus stop to our hotels (with four bags between us), so we were automatically friends.
People at the restaurant were saying things like, "These Indians don't know how to run a proper safari. They just race around the park kicking up dirt." And, "Bloody true. The safaris in Kenya are much nicer." (Yes, a person really did
A Lake
The scenery was pretty enough that I didn't feel too cheated by not seeing one of those flighty felines. say "Bloody true." He was dressed from head to toe in khaki, but disappointingly, he wasn't wearing a pith helmet.)
Apparently my driver wasn't the only one with a need for speed. I was determined to go on another trip into the park the next morning, but found myself saying, "I hope I see a tiger tomorrow so I don't have to go on another safari." If it seems that there's something wrong with a statement like that, it's because there is.
My companions on the second safari were a group of Indian schoolchildren. Fortunately, they were better behaved and quieter than the handful of brats that had been on the previous day's trip. I was optomistic about seeing the elusive big cat.
There were less animals around that second day. (Perhaps because of a stalking predator nearby?) We travelled through a different area of the park, at somewhat more reasonable speeds. The driver killed the engine to let the canter roll down hills, so we could sneak up on any animals that might be nearby (at least, to the extent that a huge truck can "sneak" through the forest.)
Then finally, excited pointing as we
The Prints!
As close as I got. stopped. There in the middle of the road was a fresh tiger footprint! We were on the right track!
I'll cut this story short though and say that again, we didn't see an actual tiger, in spite of an hour of motorized sneaking around the vicinity of the print. Perhaps I should have warned you readers in the beginning that this was to be a story about not seeing a tiger. But then, who wants to read a story like that? Nonetheless, I apologize to anyone who feels cheated.
In the four year old North India guidebook I picked up in Turkey, there is mention of the Sariska Tiger Reserve near Ranthambhore. I learned in between safaris that whatever tigers once roamed Sariska have now been poached, and there was for some time an elaborate cover-up involving park officials and safari drivers to conceal that fact. I mention this side story only to point out that the tigers in Ranthambhore have not yet been wiped out, since I spoke with people who did see some on their safaris. So I was the victim of bad luck, not some vast criminal poaching conspiracy.
I felt like I handled my lack of tiger spotting gracefully enough. After all, when you can go by truck from the door of your hotel into the park in less than an hour with a load of chattering school kids by your side, you're not exactly having a wilderness experience. Seeing a tiger wouldn't have been that far removed from going to see one at the zoo.
Rather than make a third safari, I opted to blow my money on tea and lunch at the swanky Sawai Madhopur Lodge. The hotel was the former hunting lodge of the maharaja of Jaipur, and was appropriately deluxe. I felt as out place there as I have on any local Indian bus. The next day I was on an unreserved second class train (where I belonged?). Seated with seven other people on a bench made for four, and with passengers overhead in the luggage racks, I thus made the journey to Agra.
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Amanda
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Hello fellow traveller, I really enjoyed reading your blog and found it highly amusing. I just had the same experience in Ranthambore, although I drew a line at riding on a motorbike. But luckily last year one of the tigress had cubs so they were easer to spot. So my journey ended quite different and I saw four tigers. Happy travels! Amanda www.globosapiens.net/travel-information/Ranthambore+National+Park-2559.html?page=2