The best laid schemes o' mice and men, gang aft agley. Robert Burns must have been talking about my plans for the year-end closure at work. Every plan seemed to be falling apart as the holidays got closer. For want of anything better to do, I even volunteered to work through some of the holiday. So when a plan to camp somewhere in the Nilgiris came up, I jumped at it.
The guide met us at Masinagudi and guided us through lunch, tea breaks and ga
rdens to Solur. From there, after a rather long discussion with the owners of the tea garden about whether or not it was permitted to camp in the hills, we hiked to a large grass field where the tents were pitched. Notice that I do not say that we pitched the tent. Anjali, Manik and I shirked our duties and headed up to the top of the hill to catch the setting of the sun. Suffice it to say that the sun has a lot more practice getting over hills than us city-slickers. As we stumbled our way down, we watched the campfire flicker to life and the stars follow Venus' lead in punctuating the deep indigo sky.
Sneha joyfully took charge of the supplies (Chinese camping and supplies joke's making me smile) that Ashwin and Roshan had lugged up and handed out tuna, luncheon meat and cheese sandwiches to go with the rum and coke. I can't remember what the conversation was about, but it was warm, in sharp contrast with the air which was beginning to bite. The cold chewed through the tent, through my sleeping bag and chomped on my toes, making the night rather restive.
We woke to see the sun rise and then decided to go up the hill again, and with Manik around, there's always a higher hill to climb. There were stone walls built at various levels on the way up, and near the top, there were some large flat pieces of granite placed so that people could sit and admire the view. I wonder what the walls are for - not supporting anything and too low to keep anything in or out. And I wonder who made those seats.
And then it was breakfast and the hike back to Solur. For the crazies in the bunch, it was walking all the way down to Masinagudi. And then surviving a hair-raising drive back to Bangalore so that I could make the airport in time.
rdens to Solur. From there, after a rather long discussion with the owners of the tea garden about whether or not it was permitted to camp in the hills, we hiked to a large grass field where the tents were pitched. Notice that I do not say that we pitched the tent. Anjali, Manik and I shirked our duties and headed up to the top of the hill to catch the setting of the sun. Suffice it to say that the sun has a lot more practice getting over hills than us city-slickers. As we stumbled our way down, we watched the campfire flicker to life and the stars follow Venus' lead in punctuating the deep indigo sky.Sneha joyfully took charge of the supplies (Chinese camping and supplies joke's making me smile) that Ashwin and Roshan had lugged up and handed out tuna, luncheon meat and cheese sandwiches to go with the rum and coke. I can't remember what the conversation was about, but it was warm, in sharp contrast with the air which was beginning to bite. The cold chewed through the tent, through my sleeping bag and chomped on my toes, making the night rather restive.
We woke to see the sun rise and then decided to go up the hill again, and with Manik around, there's always a higher hill to climb. There were stone walls built at various levels on the way up, and near the top, there were some large flat pieces of granite placed so that people could sit and admire the view. I wonder what the walls are for - not supporting anything and too low to keep anything in or out. And I wonder who made those seats.
And then it was breakfast and the hike back to Solur. For the crazies in the bunch, it was walking all the way down to Masinagudi. And then surviving a hair-raising drive back to Bangalore so that I could make the airport in time.
