Sunday 27 November 2016

Kerala, an adventure in India.

Kerala, an adventure in India. 

11th November - 20th November 2016

Rudyard Kipling.

There is a place where the ocean melts into the sky like a cup of warm milk. Its mountains are soft and green as if mown by giants. Great eucalyptus forest cover their slopes and tumble down to meet the rolling puzzle of brilliant green tea plantations. High above rocks adorn the grassy upland, black and smooth. White waterfalls spill, lacy waters over curved edged ledges as they carve their way down into a tangled forest of tousled trees and vines and make their way into great coastal rivers. These holy waters run through the country like a thread, binding its people in a multitude of faiths, joining sprawling cities of newly built concrete, ancient dusty relics of a long gone past or tin roofed shacks that cover every inch of space in another urban puzzle, so different from the countryside.
I was privileged to visit this country with Macmillan cancer support and take in its serene beauty as we trekked through the bewildering tea plantations of Kerala and on up across the high plateau of the Western Ghats in neighbouring Tamil Nadu. The trek was organised by Discover Adventure and lead by local guides.

22 intrepid trekkers gathered in Heathrow that cold, dull November afternoon to embark on a very long journey. Initially to India, entering via Mumbai and the not so fast new e-visa system and only just catching our onward flight to Kochi. This part of the journey always seems the worst; queuing, bag checking, more queuing, more bag checking, longer queues, scanning, even more queuing, finger printing and just a little more waiting. Never mind, we made it there, although much later than expected but in time to enjoy a meal and a shower before bed.

I do believe I read the written information on the shower correctly, in spite of not using my reading glasses. It stated “Leave the hot running for ten minutes to enjoy hot water”. Well, after ten minutes of a cold shower I was well ready for bed and my tent buddy thanked me for warming the shower for her. At least someone was happy with the Indian plumbing system.

India is an amazing mix of cultures, religions and geographic regions. It is the 7th largest country in the world but has the second largest population. In fact India has a larger population than the entire western hemisphere of the earth. At present its population exceeds 1.2 billion making it the world’s largest democracy.

Cochin Port was a fascinating place. We were all excited to finally see India and immerse ourselves in its beautiful cultural differences. Here fisherman mended nets, cross legged and silent as they had always done. Others worked huge catapult type constructions fashioned out of whole trees and ropes worn down by time and water. They sorted their catch into small baskets of even tinier fish, holding them up as if great prizes with warm and energetic smiles. The milky air washed over us, quietening our thoughts, slowing life down and immersing us in a land of silvery dreams. Being here was like hanging in a magic bubble, blown in on the wind from an ancient sea. We were in our new world, captive and by it spell.

Upon trees and Chinese fishing nets sat little egrets and black cormorants drying huge feathered wings. They gathered on every pole or rock in hope of a feed, while local fisherman showed us the ropes of the Kerala fishing industry.
These shore operated lifting nets are unique to this area of Southern India, introduced by the Portuguese during the 1700. The technique was ordinarily use in Southern China, using huge structures of around 10 metres in height with large nets of at least 20 metres width. They hang above the water until they are lowered completely by a pulley system of ropes and rock balances. The fishermen singing a short pulling song as they bring it back up after just a few minutes. It’s never a large catch but the fish are quickly sold as they are unloaded.

We ambled down to a lovely old church, built 300 years ago when spice wars raged on the high seas between the Dutch, Portuguese and English all to secure cheaper spices than those that came overland from china. The joyful singing of Sunday worship drifted, as we did, down to the narrow streets of old Cochin that lead to an ancient palace, colourful streets of the old Jewish quarter and a lovely synagogue, jewelled with coloured glass lights. We took mental notes and wandered back to our awaiting coach, leaving beautiful Cochin behind.

When they say 4 to 5 hours’ drive they mean it. Only on this occasion India had decided to scrap all large back notes that weekend and most banks were now either closed or every ATM had long queues of people desperately trying to get the allowed 2000 rupees or around £25 out of their accounts. Finally we found a bank that appeared open but it was not only a long wait but a lottery to whether the recipients received a little wodge of crumpled and dirty bank notes.

Finally making it to Munnar after passing huge white cascades, trees of orange flowers and monkeys enjoying their forest home. We arrived just as darkness came and it was yet again time to eat and sleep before our first day of trekking in the morning. There was however a little time to take a thrilling ride down to Munnar on a Tuc tuc and look around the markets before falling into bed.
It’s difficult to know what season it is in India, I guess it must have been autumn. India’s Hindu calendar has 6 seasons; spring, summer. Monsoon, autumn, winter and prevernal. Out here in the mountains the air was clear and cool, so different to that of Mumbai which we had passed through. So many of India’s cities suffer from large amounts of pollution and overcrowding.

From the village of Nagarmundid the following morning we wave goodbye to the jeeps and gradually ascended the hill behind us. The views were stunning, as was the flora, almost magical. The plantations spread out in all directions, bright green and often tangled with blue morning glory where they met the forest that hugged the slopes.  We rose up onto the grassy uplands on a tiny track of crumpled grasses. Our guide told of meeting elephants just 13 days before as they lay sleeping in the undergrowth. There noisy snoring could be heard a distance away by his tuned in ears, we too hoped that we would see these wonderful beasts as they enjoyed their normal 21 day route around the hills and mountains in this region. They had left their mark well with ruts and nibbled roots of grass, oversized clumps of manure and scrape marks on tree trunks where they had rubbed their massive bodies.

Up here it was like being on an anchored ship, as clouds rose up the sides of the hills and rolled back down the other side, giving glimpses of the hidden valleys below, with their splendid tea plantations, lakes and rivers. We sailed on up the Seven Malai hills and descended back down through eucalyptus, the beautiful orange flowered African tulip tree or Nirukai Mara (Spathodea Companulata), cardamom plants, coffee and tangled peppers. Finally after leaving all the wonderful butterflies, flowers of pinks, yellows and orange we reached the edge of the tea plantations again. On a wide track now we watch tea pickers gathering their allotted 20kg of leaves and more. Prizes given to those picked the most.

After walking back to the hotel we enjoyed lunch and then walked into the busy little town where we managed another successful ATM visit of another 2000 rupees and decided that we should be ok now for the rest of the visit. In town we joined the others for a little cultural interest, a visit to the tiny local theatre to see the Kathakali dancers. This “dance” is quite unique to Kerala. I must first confess that along with a number of jet lagged individuals I feel asleep quite a few time during the performance.  The dance itself was quite fascinating as they took us through the different hand movements and facial expressions. It culminated in a green ogre cutting both the breasts and head of a fair maiden. That woke us all up!

We rose early the next day and after taking the jeeps up the beautiful Silent valley we arrived at our camp. It was a beautiful morning walking up the wide rocky track to the plateau above. Now steadily moving upwards we climbed the many rolling undulations of the seven rounded peaks that was our ladder to Meesapulima Peak (2630 metres and the second highest in Southern India). This grassy wilderness was home to eagles, buzzards and numerous tiny wild flowers. At first the cloud would clear just enough to see down into the lush grass tea estates but by lunch nature was in charge and our views were gone. From here on we climbed on upwards into cloud. There were a number of people who were suffering from knee and back injuries now. For some their day had already been cut short but others struggled on. My own asthma was bothering me too and I was taking Diamox due to my susceptibility to altitude problems over 2500 metres. It was good to reach the top but it wasn’t for long as time was marching on and cloud had engulfed the summit. After congratulations all-round and a group photography we began our descent into the central valley. Here bracken covered the land, golden and amber with dips and rises until we met the first tall rise in front of us. It was hard to see old friends suffer and new friend struggle but it’s all part of the challenge and once at the top of the wide track again a jeep came to help those in difficulties down.

The light was fading fast as we watched the sun set and distant stars rise in an inky black sky. Fireflies danced in the air, little frogs of black and brown leapt from rock to rock and one by one our head torches came on and lit the way to camp.

It was a late night, but we gathered around the warmth of the glowing fire, ate our dinner and yes it was curry again but they had made us some tasty snacks too and soon we were asleep.
The night didn’t seem very long. We rose at 6am and as soon as breakfast was eaten we were off up into the hills once again, this time over the plateau of the Western Ghats. Again there were members of the group who could now hardly walk, most joined us while a few returned on the bus to join us at the next camp.
We took a small track up through the trees to reach a splendid waterfall. I was a little rebellious I must admit and would not wear the cotton leech proof socks fearing that they would lead to blisters. The rebellion spread, some wore the socks and got blisters, some wore gaiters and were bitten by leaches. I sprayed my feet and legs with DEET and receive neither so perhaps rebellions are sometimes needed.
After crossing the stream above the falls the little path was full of fallen trees branches and hidden stumps. It was a lovely path, scattered with 200 year old red rhododendrons. The mountains rose above us, while wild elephants had left their trail along with that of leopards. It was a beautiful wild, high place in every sense. After a lunch of curry, carried by the local guides we dropped down into the damp forest where thousands of leeches awaited us. They crept across our boots, into socks and up trousers legs, piercing small holes and fattening themselves on our blood. Members of our group wore their dressings with pride, one ever professing to have received a total of 9 leech bites in one day.

After watching monkeys in the trees we reached the tea plantations once again. Women were coming down through the crops carrying sacks upon their heads, they chattered and giggled as they passed us. They had been working all day picking tea, not surprising as there was so much of it and it needed to be gathered every 17 days. The bushes were wonderfully clipped and neat, many of them were between 70 and 120 years old. Tea processing factories stood tall and dark with huge piles of timber stacked outside them. An incredible industry. Tea grow wild in India and has been brewed and consumed since the 12th century by the indigenous population. By the early 1820’s the British East India Company began large scale production of tea. Tea is actually a camellia bush, its botanical name being Camellia Sinensis. It the most widely drunk beverage in the world and only water is consumed more widely throughout the world.

Here in Kerala the leaves are picked by hand as all high quality tea is picked. They are then left to wither, where they lose more than a quarter of their weight. This process allows leaf proteins to break down into free amino acids, changing the taste of the tea. The next part of the production is called Disruption, during this process the leaves are tumbled in baskets on trays. This quickens the oxidation, before the tea is rolled and dried. Wonderful to be part of this incredible green world.
But night was nearly upon us once again and we still had around 2 to 3 hours of walking to undertake that day so after saying goodbye to one or two of our most exhausted walkers we trekked on through the tea plantations and back to camp. With head torches on once again we walked in our bubbles with thoughts of a hot supper and a warm sleeping bag.

The fire was inviting back at camp but I went to my tent to sort out my bedding and ready things for another early start in the morning. There had almost not been time to let this beautiful country sink into my soul. I wanted more time to let my thoughts float.

At 5am the next morning, while darkness still reigned, the local village megaphone system played a merry Indian tune and announced the break of day. I waited until 6am, dressed, packed and breakfasted before leaving Top Station at 1930 metres and descending to the tiny village of Kotakuddi. The scenery here was magnificent as tall rocky outcrops rose up from grassy slopes, forests and flowers lined the track down to the bottom station. Once we reached the village we waited for other members of the group to arrive. How hard this trek had been for some, they had put everything into this long arduous journey. They struggled down the next part with stiff and painful knees, crippling back pain and tiredness. We helped each other to achieve our goals and looked in wonder as crops of coffee, pepper, bananas and oranges lined our route. As we entered the village a mother showed us her home and the teacher proudly introduced us to his class of five small children.
Finally we reached the larger bottom village with its shops, school and tea stalls. 70% of all tea produced in India is consumed in India itself. Tea is drunk with milk and sugar in India. The leaves are boiled and the black tea is boiled again once the milk and sugar is added. It’s widely drunk by locals at these little tea stalls. We waited for the police to sort out the group’s paperwork and then made our way down through coconut and mango plantations, waving to children, mothers and chickens as we descended. Only the river stood before us now and it wasn’t long before we crossed that too and gathered spend to reach our finishing line and awaiting mini buses.  After more hugs, tears and chatter we were on our way once again, this time to Thekkedy.

The next day we left the hills for the coast and the house boats at Alleppey. I wasn’t sure what to expect of this part of the adventure, but it was that inner peace and the time to let India reach into my soul that I had wished for. TIME. Yes, time didn’t matter here it brushed by like the water under our boat. Here was beauty and serenity. Here was peace and pure joy and I thanked Macmillan for this precious and very special time. It had been a busy year of fundraising and now I enjoyed watching river life pass by. Birds in the paddy fields, people washing clothes in the river, children catching the ferry home from school and men fishing. This was a very different Kerala. We moored up overnight and finished our journey on the beautiful backwaters in the morning light.

There was one last thing to do before returning home, a dip in the Arabian Sea and our celebration meal. Now I was ready to go home and proud to wear my India trekking T shirt.











Friday 25 November 2016

Andrews Mare, Stoney Cross, New Forest.

A lovely new walk today. Starting from Andrews Mare near Stony Cross. Leaving the A31on the south side at Stony cross and taking the small track on your right a short way down the road. This leads to Andrews Mare car park and picnic area. The walk is around 3 to 4 miles and circular. Takes around 1.30Hours. Easy walking on good tracks, just two small streams to cross (We didn't get our feet wet). Head west on a wide grassy track that runs parallel to the A31. This dips down to two small streams before turning at the top of the second rise on a v shaped turn. Turn left here and keep to the track running along the edge of the forest. Beautiful you reach the road turn left on a grassy track to reach the car park. Beautiful views throughout.