Hiking in the hills of Ooty

Waking up to Ooty’s misty rain, damp winds, and low lying fog confused my coffee deprived mind. No, I wasn’t in Seattle anymore but in one of India’s old hill stations to do some “trekking” and to breathe cooler air for a few days. The mid-afternoon average temperature drop from the lower plains’ mid 90’s to the mid 60’s is a welcome respite. No wonder the rich foreign population established their summer residences in “snooty Ooty” since the mid 1800s!

Unfortunately, Ooty (short for Ootacamund which is not the original name of Udhagamandalam) doesn’t retain the charm and the number of British style buildings that the northwestern hill town of Shimla did…even though I was robbed by monkeys there. Instead, Ooty is just like many other Indian cities with overcrowded streets, beeping horns from cars and rickshaws navigating through narrow streets, and stores upon stores often selling the same things. The big differences are that Indian tourists seem to outnumber the locals, the rickshaw drivers and store owners aren’t endlessly touting their products, and people walk slower maybe because they are wrapped in shawls or wearing jackets and ear muffs. Ooty’s high season is April through June and September and October so these tourists are braving the “cold temperatures” of mid 60s in the day and low 60s at night to come in late November. Even I find it cold and wear a fleecy and my rain jacket at the same time.

Wearing my three layers and armed with a bottle of water and some biscuits, I went trekking for four hours with a hired guide, Charles, and Bernard who is from Montreal. Luckily, Bernard was a very entertaining travel companion and felt comfortable asking a lot of questions too as Charles was the most taciturn of guides that I have ever hired. Not that I can complain as Bernard had done all the work of finding a guide, I just had to run into Bernard in the street and ask him if he knew how to hire a guide as one tourist office was closed and I couldn’t find the other.

Charles seemed to operate under the belief that relating two pages of information over a four hour period, walking quickly, but patiently waiting for picture taking were the requirements for a guide. When asked a question, though, he would provide a detailed answer. Which, of course, leaves me with the pestering question of “Shoot, what should I have asked?”

As we walked by tea tree plantations, we learned about how only the newest leaves are harvested and the smallest buds are what is used to make white tea. We learned that the average tea leaf picker makes about US$3 a day until they become a permanent employee after two years. Then, they earned $5 a day and get vacations, pensions etc. He told us that tea trees are planted in the less desirable soil and the most fertile soil is used to grow potatoes,carrots, and cabbage as the farmer can get three crops a year from vegetables. We learned about the farmer’s life as we winded down and through the narrow paths on the terraced farm fields near the end of the trek.

Much of the trek was through a national forest. Our path was sometimes a dirt road, a narrow trail, a cow path, or just a foot path through eight feet tall brush. We wandered up and down hills with pine and deciduous trees and through quiet eucalyptus forests. The only people we saw were laborers. Until the normal cacophony of engines and horns are gone during the day, you don’t realize what a subtle irritant it can be.

I’m attaching some pictures of the vistas that we saw along the way. I still don’t understand my camera enough to capture the views. I also am including some photos of some of the laborers along the way. The group of farm kids ran after us yelling “hello, hello!” Their only other English vocabulary was “What is your name” and “bye-bye.” Their energy and friendliness was like a jolt of caffeine though.

Yet, at the end of the 11 mile hike, we weren’t tired and I wasn’t even sore the next day. Hiking in the northwest, the next day tightness in the calf is a given. Perhaps since we had started at 7,000 feet, we didn’t have as much altitude gain as in the Northwest. My rock hard bed provided cold comfort that night but at least my two blankets and my fleecy kept me warm. When you wake up tomorrow, be grateful for central heating and long, hot morning showers. Also, appreciate the cooler weather, hundreds of tourists come here just for the temperature. At least I assume that is the reason, because the bedraggled and forlorn amusement park called “Jolly World” and the decrepit boats around the lake can’t be the main reason. Since we never saw any other hikers near or far the whole day, I don’t think most come for hiking either.

Perhaps, they come for the panoramic views and for the ride on the miniature railroad which is another UNESCO World Heritage site. The Nilgiri Blue Mountain Railway takes almost five hours to go 46 kilometers while passing through 16 tunnels and 19 bridges. The narrow-gauge train is even operated by a steam engine so it is one of South Asia’s last functioning steam routes. There is only one train a day that descends all the way to the sea level and it is sold out for the next three days. Tomorrow, I will descend back into the heat with an earlier 1 ½ hour long train ride and then switch to the much faster but far less romantic bus to get to Maderai. Hard to believe that a week from tomorrow, I will be drowning in my own sweat doing yoga and dreaming of this cool, misty weather!

Terraces in Ooty

Terraced veg gardens

typical house, pots used for feasts

Forest worker

Enthusiastic farm kids

guide w/ posts to lift loads onto heads

Hindu temple with terraces