Temples, Tigers, and Trains

  After literally jumping onto the train from Sarnath, our overnight trip to to Khujaraho went smoothly. We had time to go for dinner in Varanasi while waiting for our next train to leave. We took turns watching the bags in the station, Raven and I going first for chai and thalis across the street. A thali is a platter of rice, dhal, curried vegetables, spicy pickle, and usually a few chapatis, a staple food in India, cheap and usually delicious. The train was only a few minutes late leaving the station, very encouraging. Su and Raven had the outside sleeper berths, the ones that run parallel to the aisle, and I took the upper berth on the inside, the only place I can stretch my legs without getting jostled by people passing by all night. It was a little chilly, but Raven shared her sleeping bag, so I had a great sleep. Raven's window wouldn't shut properly, so she didn't sleep well, and I felt guilty for using her warmest layer. The train was nearly on time, which was very surprising. I was sure it would be at least a few hours late, giving the sun time to rise before we had to navigate our way to a hotel. Just like Varanasi, Khujaraho has the hotel/rickshaw commission racket, so after getting a ride to town, we tried to ditch the rickshaw driver by having breakfast before finding the hotel we wanted. None of the restaurants were open at 6:30, so we drank chai in the main square, watching the bright green parrots squawking overhead. The driver just wouldn't give up! He waited for over half an hour until Su tried to sneak off to the hotel, while Raven and I stayed with our pile of bags. As soon as she wondered away, he started following her, still intent on collecting a commission from the hotel, at our expense. Su is catching on very quickly, and has no qualms about being confrontational. 'Are you following me?! Don't be rude. Go away!' Ha! She found the hotel, but eventually stormed out, frustrated with the haggling process after being on a train all night. Since she'd already chased the rickshaw driver away, we packed up and went back, settling on a room with three beds for 500 rupees. They were supposed to have WIFI, but it was down, but after a hot shower, Su and I went up to the roof for the free yoga class.

We had been warned about the overbearing and very persistent touts and 'guides' in Khujaraho, and they weren't an exaggeration! The guidebook also had warnings about the free yoga classes and massage guys most hotels have on staff. I hadn't taken someone-else's yoga class since I left Victoria, so I was really looking forward to my first yoga experience in India. Boy, was I in for a surprise! This guy was brutal! It turned into a lesson on what never to do in a yoga class. He was forcing people into advanced poses, causing them to literally cry out in pain! He wanted us to do a 'toe to forehead pose', so he grabbed my ankle and the back of my head, and pulled them together with all his strength, until he was shaking with the effort. He also twisted our arms behind our backs, attempting to achieve a palms together, pointing upwards posture. My shoulders have never been able to bend so far, and I had to tell him to back off before he tore something. Every body is different, but flexibility can be improved over time, with regular practice. Forcing anyone past their pain threshold is unproductive and dangerous. I wonder how many people this guy has injured, and how many more will never attempt another yoga class. If I didn't know better, I would have thought I wasn't flexible enough, or had the 'right' body type to do yoga. I'm still looking forward to a genuine yoga experience, with a yogi who is aware and knowledgeable. It did give me even more of an appreciation for the excellent and comprehensive training at Feel Good Yoga. Thanks again Laura, you are an inspiration and an embodiment of the Yogic tradition.

Besides being the most annoying place I've EVER been to, the temples are still worth the visit to Khujaraho. There was over 80 temples spread out over the area, a thriving city in the 10^th century, that was abandoned and overgrown until the 1830's when it was 'rediscovered'. Home of some famously erotic depictions, the 23 remaining structures are incredibly intricate and well preserved. The scenes include musicians, magical beasts, battles, gods, bestiality, and orgiastic indulgences. Definitely a must see, on par with any archeological site anywhere in the world. It's too bad the people are so overbearing. Shopkeepers actually yelling at us, competing for business. I had a guy try to pull me into his sari shop, despite my firm reply of 'I don't wear saris!' The kids learn early, and it's impossible to walk anywhere without someone following along, buttering you up for a sale or a plea for money. Even in the hotel, which is usually a safe place to hide out from propositions, the staff were constantly asking where we were going, did we need a bike rental, or a rickshaw, or a massage, or henna. On the morning we left, during breakfast the kitchen staff just stood over us, asking for baksheesh (tips), over and over. Whew, was I happy to leave town, even though I knew we had a long day of travel ahead of us.

There is no straightforward connection between Khujaraho and Tala, the access point for Bandhavgarh National Park, which boasts the highest concentration of tigers in the world. We started with a four hour bus ride to Satna, then got suckered into a bus going to Rewa. We wanted to go to Umaria, around four more hours to the southeast, and I was very clear about the destination. The bus was literally pulling away as we pushed our bags into the 'trunk', assured we would be heading to Umaria. Sure enough, two hours later, we arrived in Rewa, northeast of Satna. We'd skipped lunch at the last bus depot, so after a rickshaw ride across town to the Rewa bus station (not where the bus had dropped everyone off), we let the first bus leave while we picked up some pakora patties and Mountain Dew. We found seats on a comfortable looking luxury bus, and ate lunch while waiting for it to fill up. The ticket guy said it would be five more hours to Umaria, which is still an hour away from Tala, our final destination. The Very few tourists come through the area, and there was no English on any of the signs, so I really had no idea where we were for quite a while. I turned the gps on my phone on, but it wasn't getting a position. Eventually we went through a town where I spotted a name that I could read. I wasn't sure if it was just the store name or not, until I saw it again. I checked the map again, and found out where we were, on the other side of the 1100 square kilometer park! The highway would eventually wind around to Umaria, but we had already been on the road for 8 hours. There is a junction, with a small road leading through the park directly to Tala, so we kept our eyes peeled, and jumped out when we saw the turnoff. What a pleasant change from Khujaharo! The people we met while waiting for a local bus to Tala were so curious and kind. A teacher from a village nearby spoke English, and acted as translator, while others asked questions about our religion, jobs, family, Canada, our impressions of India and the local area. It was so nice to meet Indians living away from the sphere of tourism and foreigners. This is best type of encounter you can hope for while travelling; open, accepting curiosity. “Hey. Wow. Where are you guys from? And what's it like there?” We had some tea and chatted until the bus came past. Ahhh. The last step in a tiring day. Or so we thought. Why do buses never go all the way to where you need to go?! Arrrg! We got dropped off in the town 13 kms before Tala, and the auto rickshaw driver wanted 500 rupees to make the trip. We were starving by now, but couldn't find anyone with food that Raven would eat. I decided to try another rickshaw, after getting the price down to a reasonable 200, so we could just get to a hotel, which would have a restaurant, and finish this gruelling day. After four bus rides, two auto rickshaws, and 12 hours, we finally checked into Kum Kum Home Lodge. It was dark, but I could tell it was going to be beautiful, and very quiet.

Considering it's claim to fame, Tala is still a very small rural town. There are a few high end safari lodges that deal with people on packaged tours, and only a few stores, restaurants, and budget hotels. We hardly saw any other travellers, as I suppose most people in the high end, all inclusive resorts have little reason to venture out, except as they drive through town on their way into the park. There are three different 'gates' you can enter through, and only by jeep. The package tour operators have booked up the best gate, with the highest number of tiger sightings, Tala gate. There is a limited number of jeeps allowed into each area per day, so it was frustrating to not be able to get tickets for that area. During the drier months, tigers are spotted every day in Tala gate, as the watering holes dry up, and the prey become more concentrated. We settled for door #3, Khatali gate, for our early morning safari. We had left our passports in the hotel, and couldn't get through the gate without them, even after an attempted bribe. Su got a great ride back, as the driver flew along the terrible road back to the hotel, while the rest of us waited, throwing icy stares at the stubborn guards. We heard some warning calls from the barking deer, an indication that a tiger is in the area. After Su returned with a crazy grin on her face, describing how far she had bounced out of her seat on the way back, we slowly worked our way deeper into the park, eyes peeled. We heard more alarm calls, and started racing around the sandy tracks, trying to locate the tiger causing the excitement. We met some other jeeps, and the drivers and guides talked excitedly, before racing off in a new direction. We did hear a tiger roar in the distance, but our time was up before long, and we left a little disappointed. Since we'd found enough people to fill a jeep, and split the costs, we decided to double up, and take the evening safari as well. This time we managed to get VIP passes to gate # 2, Maghdi gate, which was much better, all around. There were so many more animals; many different types of deer, wild boar, peacocks, and finally, a Tiger! We must have missed the best part of the show, because there was a pair of tigers who had just mated, but the female was still visible through the trees, resting in the shade. We got lots of pictures of tiger stripes while jostling for position with the other jeeps, but couldn't really tell which way she was facing. This is the only area that has elephants to spot the tigers, so the rangers rode into the bush, trying to flush the tigers out. That's when she sat up, just long enough to snap one picture, before moving away. Then came the roar. Oh My God. I've heard the expression 'Strike fear into the hearts of man,' but...Wow. All of a sudden, I realized how close we were to a massive predator. Chills ran down my spine, and I could actually feel the roar reverberate in my chest. Think Tyrannosaurus Rex loud. I'll never forget it for as long as I live. Everyone looked stunned, eyes wide, jaws agape, looking around desperately, like the tiger was about to leap from the shadows and snatch one of us away.

After our encounter, I still wanted to try to get a better view of a tiger, so we joined up with another jeep for the next evenings safari. Su thought we should end it on a positive note, but I figured that after the effort it had taken to reach Tala, we should take one more shot, so to speak. We ended up back behind door #3, which was a real disappointment. We only saw a handful of deer, and the driver and guide were so bored, that we just parked and sat around for half the time. We were laughing and joking about how deserted it was, and started amusing ourselves by pretending to be watching something in the bushes very intently when other jeeps would approach. The passengers would invariably stand up and start snapping photos of the empty treeline, as we broke into uproarious laughter. They would turn to us with confused expressions, before realizing the joke and laughing along.

Su and I went for a walk along the dirt track winding through the forest beside the park boundary one day, and I couldn't help questioning the sanity of walking through the area with the Highest Density of Tigers in the world. Hmmm. We ended up staying in Tala for five days, just enjoying the peace and quiet. There were lots of langurs running through the hotel grounds, and once while having dinner, the cooks chased a cow through the dinning room. Raven adopted the resident puppy, and despite the fleas, would spend hours snuggling and swinging on the bench swings in the garden. We had a 25 hour train ride planned, so had no problem relaxing and reading a few afternoons away. We were catching the train from Umaria to Puri, 1250 kms away on the coast of Orissa. It was supposed to leave at 5:30 AM, so we caught the bus to town and got a room in the closest hotel to the train station. When we booked online, we could only get wait-listed tickets. The proliferation of the internet has changed travel both for the better and for the worse. Not only can you book many things online ahead of time, but now you HAVE to book ahead for some things. We didn't want to spend an entire day in a crowded chair car, so we checked in with the station manager, and luckily, our sleeper berths were confirmed. They hold a certain amount of tickets back until 24 hours before departure, so even though we were 78^th on the wait list, we still got seats. Whew. Our hotel in Umaria had a TV, which even had two English channels, so we stayed up late enjoying the novelty. We were up at 4:40AM, not wanting to chance missing the train, on the off chance it was somehow miraculously early. Of course, it was two hours late, so we drank chai and watched the sun come up. The train ride was pleasantly painless, and never once full to capacity. For most of the trip,we had the whole six seat compartment to ourselves. We met lots of locals, and had more pictures taken with assorted men, couples, and crying babies. Away from the tourist hotspots, we enjoy the status of minor celebrities. People approach us at restaurants, on the street, at temples, train stations, all taking turns for their chance to get their picture taken with some foreigners. Strange, but oddly flattering, and usually amusing. The babies almost always cry, but the parents insist we hold the squirming, frightened children. It must be good luck.

Long train trips are a necessity for most Indians, so food is always available. The train serves vegetable cutlet sandwiches, or veg. Biriani rice, depending on the time of day, and the larger stations always have food sellers that work the trains. Snacks, drinks, samosas, eggs, rice; plenty of variety, and since we never got sick, reasonably sanitary. Although, at one station they were serving up diced salads, with chopped tomato, cucumber, onion and peppers. It looked delicious, but fresh vegetables are always suspect. You never know if they've been washed, or with what, so we didn't indulge. Which is good, because as we pulled out, I watched one guy cleaning off his chopping knife by wiping it back and forth on the ground! There's nothing like watching the geography slowly morph through the windows of a train, tiny mud hut villages appearing and disappearing, the passing train causing everyone to stop and stare, kids waving and running alongside for as long as they can. We slept well this time, filling up on some spicy cutlet snadwiches for breakfast. Even though the train was a few hours late, 27 hours in total, I felt great when we finally pulled into Puri, returning to the tropical coast of the Bay of Bengal.