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Published: June 27th 2006
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lionofmysore
defender of the maharaja's palace Carmen had insisted that whenever possible I stay at any Neemrana property. Before leaving London I had looked up the one in Pondicherry and it promised to ‘take you back in time’. - http://www.neemranahotels.com/
Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately for my wallet) it was booked up. However, as my dad has always advised me to go and use the loos in posh hotels, I did go and sup a traditional g&t in it’s cool courtyard (is there a theme here?). In the process I found another Neemrana property in the hills of Tamil Nadu, in Coonoor, 1 hour away from it’s more famous neighbour ‘Ooty’. Getting there involved a stunning drive through wildlife sanctuaries, misty hills and spongy green tea plantations full of silver oak and eucalyptus. The Nilgiri mountains are truly stunning. To be honest it’s not unlike the lake district - and that includes the weather. At 1858 m high, I was expecting it to feel cold. I wasn’t however expecting to get one… but I guess that’s what happens when you go from 38 degrees and sunny to 21 and rainy.
As it happens, the wildlife sanctuaries of Mudumalai and Bandipura have only recently reopened to tourists.
alllitup
90,000 bulbs light up this baby For the last 20 years the forests have been presided over by India’s very own Robin Hood - the infamous Sandalwood and ivory smuggler Veerapan, who steals from the state and gives to … err… well… himself. He began his career aged 14 and 2000 elephant carcasses later depleted Karnataka’s main export of sandalwood by 70 per cent. In a particularly bloody attack in 1993 he ambushed and killed 21 policemen who were after him. As he and his gang hid out in the hills for 40 years tourists weren’t immune from the attacks. It wasn’t until he was given away by his superfurry moustache and shot last year that the parks were reopened. Not that there is much chance of seeing lions or tigers as a tour of the park is approached in the same manner as any Indian driving. Ie: never dropping below 90km/hour, honking at every opportunity, undertaking on bends and generally making as much noise and pollution as possible to prove your virility. It would take a brave animal to hang around.
Just as I think I’m beginning to ‘get’ India it changes. No one place is alike. In each state and even in each
town the people are different, making for a very idiosyncratic experience. After 6 weeks in rural Tamil Nadu I was getting used to bullock carts, men in lungis (that’s skirts to you and me), the impossibility of communication and overwhelming poverty. In Mysore I saw shocking opulence and a thriving city. And then there’s Ooty…
Ooty and Coonoor are legacies of another era. Whilst Mysore pays homage to the sultans and maharajas, Ooty is on the map thanks to the British. The hills in Northern Tamil Nadu were previously occupied by the Toda tribe (very few of whom survive today and those that do make a living showing their homes to curious tourists). That was until John Sullivan turned up in the nineteenth century. He soon realized the economic potential of the lush area and hookwinked the Toda into selling their land for shoelaces. With crops of hemp, barley, flax and of course tea, he soon made a fortune. Not surprisingly enticed by the prospect of making money in a familiar climate, other Britishers soon followed and before long Ooty was looking remarkably like a romanticized memory of a Surrey village - cottages named ‘Apple Blossom’, ‘Peach’ and ‘Wallwood
glimpsed
This guy escaped Veerapan Garden’, sprang up, next to quaint tea houses, artificial lakes, boat houses and churches. The town even offers a replica of Kew Gardens. Now, it just smacks of tat - offering boat rides across the lake, horse rides, balaclavas, chocolate stalls, carrot sellers (I didn’t quite get that one), rose gardens and a ‘Thrillarium’ - an ‘Edge of your seat ride’, which as far as I could tell was some dilapidated dodgems. Coonoor, however is lovely and I was quite happy trying to keep warm in my nineteenth century Scottish cottage, if a little bemused by it all. As a property I’m not sure the Coonoor Neemrana is so much ‘lost in time’ or ‘lost in space’.
And now I’m in Kerala. Kerala is wet. And closed. Or more specifically very wet. And mostly closed. Indians keep telling me how cute the rain is. I keep scowling at them. Particularly after they have shouted ‘Hello! You Spanish. I can tell… You have big nose. All tours of the backwaters are cancelled due to the monsoon and Kochi is pretty much a ghost town. I have however spoken to my first westerners in 2 months. I can’t work out if
highlands
nineteenth century scotland? that is a good or bad thing.
What Kerala does have is 100% literacy. It’s a communist run state and the government here has invested heavily in education, unlike Tamil Nadu. English is widely spoken, which I’ve got to confess makes my getting around a lot easier (as I sit here typing I’ve just been invited to a party :-o).
Whilst the mostly sixteenth century Fort Cochin and the Dutch area of Mantecherry have a certain scenic dilapidation about them you also feel that this place is largely geared towards tourism. Some of the things that’s aren’t closed are the jewelery shops, the silk shops, pashmina sellers, ‘art dealers’ and antiquarians all offering to take visa cards and foreign exchange. I’m finding it overwhelming now. I wouldn’t like to be here in the height of tourist season (though it might at least stop raining). What I have discovered is that sapphires suit me. I mean REALLY suit me…
What also wasn’t closed was the daily performance of traditional Keralan theatre - Kathakali. As the only onlooker I had my own private performance, and whilst I was worried about yawning the whole way through some bizarre act I
fishing
fishing with the boys down at Kochi harbour. The Chinese fishing nets are lowered in using an ancient system of pulleys and weights. wouldn’t be able to follow, I was completely enthralled as experienced performers took me through the range of the 9 stipulated human emotions (love, contempt, sorrow, anger, valour, bravery, fear, revulsion, wonder and tranquility) using only hand gestures and some extremely bizarre facial expressions.
The other night I realized that on some level I must be settling in as when my dinner bill came, my eyebrows raised in my own Kathakali-like expression of disbelief. ‘That’s not cheap,’ I thought And then I laughed. At 2 pounds 20 I reckon I can afford it. At least if I stay away from those sapphires…
China - I've started Kalarippayat and it's pretty cool (apart from the 5.30 am starts). You'd love the whole mythology, burning oil lamps, daily rituals, discipline and of course the assortment of very dangerous looking weapons.
Annalisa/Lexie/Mum/Surya&Andy - I presume as I haven't heard from you that the bathroom ceiling hasn't fallen down....
Jim - Good luck with the interview. Err, I think.
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Mark
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Hey Susie Fancy closing some of these dastardly trac tickets you've left me with? There's only so many times I can write 'expected behaviour' without screaming ;-) Is running wild in the office and shouting expected behaviour? I think it probably is... Other news just in. We have Portugal in the quarters on saturday. Be fun to watch that in Goa (not that it's anywhere near you)... H11-14 is now a 9-month project... V leaves me for the States for 4 months - the day *after* the WC final. What will I do then? ... the rains are back and I'm wearing flip flops... the courtyard bar is still not open... we all got hammered at the work do... except Brett as I sent him to Belfast, ha ha ha... ttfn x