Dhimbam : Journey into the heart of the jungle

Get hypnotised by the calm, says PANKAJA SRINIVASAN

PHOTOS: K. ANANTHAN

WATCH THEM IN THE WILD Spotted deer.

Some wise guy on the Travel and Living Channel said, "It is not the destination, but the journey there that matters." This RLT was something like that. The destination was "Tiger Farm", a spot tigers frequented once upon a time. With ridiculously improbable visions of cats roaming, romping and slumbering in the sun, we depart for Thalamalai, somewhere in the Sathyamangalam forests.

But first things first and breakfast is at Sri Ramavilas at Sathyamangalam. Hot pongal and vadai followed by coffee and a friendly conversation with R. Venkatraman, the owner, who says R. K. Narayan has eaten here. Then, safe in the belief that Bannari Amman is watching over us, (we visit her temple in the foothills), we set off.

The fun begins when we start the climb — 27 hairpin bends. We stop to watch a huge container struggling to make the turn. "Ever forward, never backward" says a pithy message emblazoned on the lorry. No wonder, all that trouble to reverse! I turn my attention to the other side of the road where a terse "Sound Okay Horn," is all the luxury of words that truck owner will allow himself.

Soon, we reach Dhimbam. There, we take a left turn and drive into thick forests. Surprisingly, the road is great. And, oh the silence... there are just a few birds exchanging notes, only occasionally. Suddenly, a streak of orange as a pack of furry creatures crosses our paths. Sennaai (wild dogs) says our driver. Before we can aim and shoot, they are gone, but not before flashing us looks of dislike.

I actually feel like the paparazzi — rude, insensitive and intrusive. Take the Grey Wagtail, in the rock pool where we have pulled up. It is minding its own business — absorbed in some complex preening ritual and we stare at its every move as it flits from rock to rock, looks at itself in the water, takes a sip or two and does a little happy jig. I wonder, if it really doesn't know we are there ogling at it. Or, may be it does. Watching the bird and sitting amidst mind numbing silence, I actually doze off for a few minutes!

A Brahminy kite at Thalamalai.

That is the greatest thing about this RLT. It is all about breathing in clean, sweet air and being hypnotised by the utter silence. It is a lovely, dreamy feeling. And, it is an ornithologist's heaven. Some spotted deer complete the feeling of euphoria.

But, we still have to see the gambolling tigers! And, of course, we don't. Tiger Farm is just an old bungalow built by a white man, near a pool where tigers once met over a drink. The yellow-washed bungalow looks intriguing. But, it belongs to someone and the caretaker is unwilling to let us in. So, we look at it from outside, and move on even as a Brahminy kite makes a repast of a short-lived reptile.

Permission: It is a protected area so contact the DFO's Office at 04295-220312 before you set off.

How to get there: From Coimbatore drive up to Sathyamangalam from where Dhimbam is approximately 25 km. At Dhimbam, turn left. The forest drive begins almost immediately.

Courtesy: http://www.hindu.com/mp/2007/01/20/stories/2007012001270400.htm

Ayyanar Sunai : On Nature's trail

A confluence of water, forest and sand dunes, says SOMA BASU

DENSE CANOPY Thicket of Talambumaram in Ayyanar Sunai

What a strange place for an RLT! I almost mistake it for a forest, then a beach and then, a desert! But the truth is Ayyanar Sunai is a fine spot where the elements of Nature blend. And it is actually known for a natural spring which has water throughout the year.

I set out for Ayyanar Sunai, a place that has been dismissed as just another "beautiful picnic spot" in tourism brochures. It is situated about 40-odd km from Tiruchendur.

On every RLT trip, I always wish the sun would be kinder, to enable me to enjoy the lush scenery. The busy highway from Tirunelveli to Thoothukudi takes a quiet turn into the countryside. I pass luxuriant paddy fields, banana plantations and coconut groves till I enter a narrow road lined with tamarind and neem trees that form a dense canopy. As I proceed further, the unique landscape unfurls like magic. To my left, the road is lined with hundreds of huge trees, with grey trunks, growing out of the water. Their thick intertwining respiratory roots, along with numerous arching branches cast a fantastic reflection in the water. The locals call it "Talambumaram" and vouch for the medicinal benefits of the oil extracted from it. Forest officials say the tree is akin to the Pandanus tree, often found near beaches.

Ayyanar Sunai is not exactly a coastal town. Yet the foliage is so thick here that it is difficult for sunlight to penetrate.

After the road takes a few more turns and curves, I come across another enchanting sight. The landscape changes and from a distance looks like a beach. The palm trees on the sandy stretch sway in the breeze. I decide to walk and soon realise that the stretch gives way to a forest, even more picturesque with its red sand dunes. I am told that the unusual formations are the result of erosion in the Western Ghats and the sand particles carried by the wind from the sea. The soil here is said to be rich in minerals.

Natural spring

The sharp sun prevents me from taking a longer walk. So I motor further down the narrow road which twists and terminates at a huge natural spring, apparently one which never runs dry and is said to possess healing properties. The water is still and glistens under the sun.

On one side of the water body is a temple dedicated to Ayyanar, a village deity, and, on the other, are the sand dunes amid a dense forest. With the temple here, one cannot call it a tranquil spot. Devotees throng the temple and litter the surroundings. As in many other places, here too civic facilities have been given a go-by, a blemish on the beautiful and rare confluence of water, forest and sand dunes. People not only come to worship at the temple but also take a dip in the spring in the hope that the waters will relieve them of their aches and pains. Small shops by the temple selling eatables, puja items, and the special oil from the talambumaram add to the chaos and the cacophony.

Yet, having said that, Ayyanar Sunai is still recommended to those wanting to experience the unique sights of Nature. If you are a genuine environment lover, you can still manage to find yourself a secluded spot where you can commune with Nature - the chirp of birds and the buzz of insects providing the background score.

Avoid hot afternoons and visit the Sunai when the sun is mild. Late evenings are better as both mercury and decibel levels dip and the illuminated temple adds to the charm of the place.

Courtesy: http://www.hindu.com/mp/2005/06/25/stories/2005062502270700.htm

Thandigudi : Beauty at its peak

Swirling mist, winding paths and lush vegetation... the hills are a trekker's paradise, says SOMA BASU

PHOTOS: SOMA BASU

SERENE AND SCENIC Deserted home of a tribal.

On learning that Thandigudi is also known as "Aadha Kodai" (half Kodaikanal!), I set out on this RLT with mixed feelings. Forty-five km from Kodaikanal, on the road to Dindigul, is this revenue village that has an old- world charm at an elevation of 1,500 metres. But I could hardly believe the package of surprises that lay in store for me atop the hill.

First, the journey. As I took the Dindigul Road from Madurai and on to Batlagundu and the Chittaravu forest check-post, the heat and dust gave way to cool verdure. The tranquillity of the drive that wound up 23 hairpin bends on the Thandigudi ghat road was shattered by a convoy of cars. Allowing them to overtake, I followed the cavalcade at my pace only to find them parked next to the State Horticulture Farm and the Forest Department guest house, roughly six km short of Thandigudi.

Casual queries revealed an elephant, apparently ailing, had died in the morning bringing the Assistant Conservator of Forests, the Forest Ranger, Forest Guard and other staff to the spot. With the public banned from entering the area, I decided against wasting my time here and proceeded to my RLT destination.

Thandigudi, surrounded by the green Palani hills, looked like many other mini hill stations that have been written about in this column, including Sirumalai, Pachalur and Yercaud. Besides coffee and cardamom plantations, the landscape is filled with vanilla, pepper, hill banana, citron and medicinal plants. Carnations and other varieties of flowers added a dash of colour to the greenery. I chose to explore the place on foot.

Enveloped in small shola forests, Thandigudi used to have many trekking routes. But now, they are all damaged by prolonged wet spells and the wild growth of flora. Wild boar, barking deer, bison and sambar are occasionally spotted here and in the surrounding evergreen forests. But the department no longer allows trekkers into the forest. Only its staff goes on an occasional recce.

I stuck to the tarred road and followed a sign post which said Watch Tower, Pannaikadu. For city slickers it is a refreshing change to trek in the hills.

Visual treat

The winding road leading to the hilltop.

The backdrop formed by rolling green hills with a dreamy mist swirling up kept me busy with my camera. To reach the watch tower, I had to take a small detour on a slippery muddy track into the forest. The only wildlife I managed to spot was a pair of tiger lizards. But before I could photograph them, they disappeared into the bushes.

Work on the watch tower is yet to be completed. But a labourer at the site assured me it was safe to climb up and enjoy the view.

And it was captivating indeed. The lush vegetation was a visual treat and the long, winding road cutting through the hills was picturesque. In the valley below, the Maruthanathi, a squarish water body, reflected the silver rays of the sun as they tried to penetrate the grey clouds. A dewy haze filled the area that seemed painted blue. The worker pointed to a peak called the "periya malai", perhaps because it looks the tallest and to a cluster of rocks called "ponnu mapillai rock". Taking a closer look at the rock I realised it looked like a bride and groom, surrounded by friends!

As I prepared to return, the worker told me to check out the echoing rock and the dolmen cave. I skipped the first, but took a dekko at the now deserted ancient home of a tribal.

Walking down, I passed by the Central Coffee Research Station, the Indian Cardamom Research Institute and the Regional Spice Board Research Station.

Thandigudi may have been dubbed `Aadha Kodai' but the beauty and serenity here cannot quite be experienced in the more famous Kodaikanal.

How to get there

Thandigudi can also be reached by Palani-Oddanchatram check-post. It is 56 km from Dindigul, 45 km from Kodaikanal, 88 km from Palani, 97 km from Madurai and 126 km from Thekkady.

Courtesy: http://www.hindu.com/mp/2006/10/16/stories/2006101600290300.htm

Alagarkoil - Bison valley : Deep in the woods

For a quiet walk through thick forests, says SOMA BASU

PHOTO: SOMA BASU

ENVELOPED IN SILENCE At Azhagarmalai

To be honest, this was not meant to be an RLT.

It began with a visit to the much celebrated Vishnu temple, Alagarkovil, 22 km northeast of Madurai.But to my delight, the trip ended in a trek on a relatively lesser-known route in the forests of the Azhagar hills. That's how Azhagarmalai became an RLT.

Alargarkoil is situated at the foothills on the southern end of Azhagarmalai and around it are the ruins of an ancient fortified town.

From the temple, there is a narrow path uphill which takes you to another temple in the wilderness, an abode of Lord Subrahmanya. The four-km distance can also be covered by road and it ends in a park of medicinal plants.

The park is managed jointly by the Forest Department and Bangalore-based Foundation for Rehabilitation of Local Health Traditions. You need prior permission to look at in situ conservation plants.

To the right of the park, a flight of 70-odd steps takes you to Lord Muruga's shrine, also famous for a small spring called Noopura Gangai. The water is considered to be as holy as the Ganges. According to myth, Brahma poured water from his kamandalam on Vishnu's feet during his `trivikrama avataram.' A few drops fell off Vishnu's `silambu' (anklet) and flowed out as the Silambu river.

Another three miles uphill is a waterfall, which derives its name from the ornament and hence is called Noopura Gangai.

Though it is supposed to be a perennial waterfall, the spring at the temple below is dry now.

But devotees get to bathe in a restricted supply of this holy water, which reaches them through six taps installed in the spring.

Funny as it may seem or sound, nobody seems to mind, as a continuous stream of devotees undergoes the ritual under watchful eyes of temple guards and monkeys. Yes, monkeys. They are there everywhere and you have to tackle them before finding your way.

Bats everywhere

But before taking the steps to Noopura Gangai, look up at the sky and you can spot colonies of flying fox (the Indian fruit-eating bat) hanging upside down from the trees.

They can be seen on any fruit-bearing tree, resting, nesting or flying over it repeatedly. There are hundreds of them almost forming a dark cloud against the sunlight.

After paying obeisance to the Lord, we encountered a bemusing sight on the temple terrace. Scores of men, women and children — and not to forget our simian brothers — were having a picnic. But, what was disturbing, however, was the mess they created all around — polythene wrappers, plastic cups, empty water bottles and waste food strewn all over.

But if you overlook the foreground and look beyond, a lush landscape meets the eye.

Peeping over the wall, we spotted a muddy track cutting through the grass, shrubs, plants and trees. We decided to scale the wall and found ourselves inside a forest.

As we walked deeper into the forest, the path became prominent. Enveloped in silence, the only sound we could hear was the crunch of dried leaves under our shoes.

Suddenly, a team member hushed everybody up and asked us to listen to the chirping of a bird.

"That's a large green barbet," he whispered excitedly.

Pursuing ornithology as a hobby, he told us we were in the Silambar valley, which is free of biotic influence. "This place is hardly known, you will not see a soul here."

I learnt later that there are three routes from different valleys — Silambar, Periyaruvi and Bison — that all meet at the highest point in the area called Phalaianaiparai at a height of 880m. The trek from Silambar valley to this point through the Azhagar forest is the shortest at six km. Bison Valley, which has to be approached from the north-eastern side of Noopura Gangai, has a fair population of bison and is about eight km.

The longest trek is 12 km in the Periyaruvi valley. All the three paths merge at `End Point,' which is a plateau at the base of the peak.

The three routes are also partially motorable but to go deep inside the forest, the department's permission is required.

In our unplanned march though Silambar valley, we couldn't go too far either, given the restrictions.

But I learnt that the area has been identified for bird watching. The white browed bulbul, orioles, changeable hawk eagle, shama and barbet, besides the migrating birds during winter season, are sighted here regularly. Animal life is negligible.

With the sun setting, we too decided to return, especially since the possible presence of large snakes scared us.

We walked back in silence, through the jungle of banyan tree, the kiluvai tree, kunguliam and itchi maram. Perhaps it is a good way to round off a visit to the temple — a quiet walk through Nature at its pristine best.

How to reach

From Madurai, take the Alagarkoil Road.

The ascent to the plateau from Silambar valley starts at Natham Road. For Bison valley, take Alagarkoil-Melur Road and turn right from Kidaritatti village.

Courtesy: http://www.hindu.com/mp/2006/07/08/stories/2006070800440200.htm

Chinnampathy - Vettu Maduvu Aruvi : Oh, What a fall it was!

A tryst with Nature, writes PANKAJA SRINIVASAN

PHOTOS: K. ANANTHAN

ADVENTUROUS TREK The waterfall

"Don't let go of my hand, no matter what," he says to me. "Not till death do us part, pal," I mutter under my breath as I tighten my grip. And the end seems to be a very real possibility as I sway and teeter and desperately try not to go over the edge, in more ways than one...

After a long gap, the prospect of an RLT into the great outdoors to a waterfall seemed lovely. So our photographer Ananthan and I set out to discover the beauties of Vettu Maduvu Aruvi — a day's trip no more. The start was propitious enough, with our car speeding away from the heat and dust towards the beautiful green hills of the Coimbatore range.

At the railway gate, I watch idly as the guard plucks a pavakkai growing wild, examines it and puts it away — a surprise for the wife no doubt. The Shoranur-Coimbatore train hurtles past and the silence is overwhelming.

Forest guard C. Renganathan awaits us at the check post. A sense of importance as an escort comprising one milkman, two anti-poaching personnel and, of course, the forest guard is provided.

Jumbo walk

This is elephant terrain. The halo diminishes somewhat as one watches the team arming themselves with small explosives and scythes, the former to scare away the elephants and the latter to cut a path through the jungles.

"Totally out, madam," says one of the escorts as he recounts with relish how his compatriot had been trampled to death by an elephant, just where we were headed, and he does a little stomping dance to better illustrate how the deed was done.

A last longing look at our car and we start our march. Hardly a short walk away and we stop to remove our shoes. It is a grove of trees with bells hanging from them — offerings to the residing deity Muniappan. Tribals pray before they enter the jungle. Just beyond is the Walayar river and we cautiously step into the waters to get across. In my heart, I am longing to suggest that this itself could be a great RLT, why go further? But, it is too late and we are now climbing, climbing, climbing, and then some more...

Enter the jungle

This is a perfect habitat for elephants as there is plenty of food, water and minimal human intervention. As I clutch my side and gasp my way onwards and upwards, every rock looks like a baleful elephant and every rustle of leaves sounds like an imminent charge. At this juncture, Sivamani the milkman enlightens us about the malaipaambu that also make their home here. So, now, I also have to watch out for pythons.

Breathtaking

Everything looks freshly painted in shades of green. Every time we stop to catch our breath, there is an impromptu botany class — it is amazing what a treasure trove of information the `simple folks' have and in contrast how little we know about nature, enveloped as we are by smoke, stink and squalor of city life.

It is time to catch our breath again, this time for another reason — a spectacular view of a waterfall in the distance. That is where we are headed. We quicken our steps as we know that a treat awaits us. And, reach a good two hours later.

The forest

For a want of a better adjective, it is awesome. A cascade of water crashes down and splashes up again. We reach the spot. On one side a quiet river, flanked by trees with overhanging branches, bubbles and gurgles over friendly round rocks and then suddenly, as if realising it is late for an appointment, it gathers speed and rushes off in a hurry to the spot where it metamorphoses into a great big waterfall.

Footloose

It is the best pedicure anywhere in the world, as you dip your feet into the water. It is freezing cold at first and then pure bliss. Silky water washes over your poor urban feet and with only a grasshopper overseeing the take off and landing of hovercraft-like insects, one could stay there forever.

But return we have to and once again we cross the stream and this time we have to go down the hill all the way, negotiating forest, thorny bushes, red ants, elephants and god knows what other perils. If I live to tell the tale, my odyssey would be the subject matter of my next RLT.

How to go

Permission of the DFO has to be sought before visiting Vettu Maduvu Aruvi. Call the DFO's office at 0422-2302925. It lies off the Coimbatore-Palakkad Road. Just before the Walayar Bridge, take the road going right towards Chinnampathy. Drive on till you reach the forest check post (approximately one km from the main road). From this point, the foothills are about six km.

Courtesy: http://www.hindu.com/mp/2006/12/16/stories/2006121600190200.htm

Kullur Sandhai : A forgotten destination

Once a favoured spot of bird lovers and children, it is now waiting for care and attention

WATER WATER EVERYWHERE The dam site

Not sure whether this place will make for an RLT, I still head for it. So far all RLTs have been about exotic beaches, cascading waterfalls, beautiful valleys, eerie jungles, adventure treks and so on. But never a one with a "once upon a time" tag. This week's RLT is about a place that was once a beautiful spot. But neglect has rendered it, literally, a road less travelled. There was a time when anybody who fancied a date with birds thronged this place, which also reverberated with the cacophonic sounds of children having fun in the adjacent park. Now, all that remains of the park is a name board, a broken slide and a swing. The piece of land is crowded with overgrown trees. One hears that the district administration has decided to revive the place.

Barely six km from Virudhunagar town in a sleepy village called Kullur Sandhai is what was once known as Tourism Department's District Excursion Centre. It made a nice picnic spot with PWD's reservoir scheme and play equipment for children. Despite Kullur Sandhai's forgotten status, it still makes for an outing if you overcome the initial shock. Hardened by all my previous RLT treks and (mis)adventures, I reach the village centre and take a narrow muddy path full of slush now. It curves and bends through bramble and other shrubs. The familiar, yellow whitewashed wall of a PWD building or construction is visible in the background as I watch my step during the less than 30-minutes walk. The blazing sun, I left behind in Madurai. Now, I could see black clouds on the horizon. The sky threatening to burst any time and a gentle breeze refreshes me despite the not-so-inspiring surroundings. Nothing to write about in superlative terms, I tell myself. A flight of rocky steps elevates me to the dam level and what shows up is a vast watery expanse. Miniscule islands of green grass float in the placid waters that fill up the PWD's reservoir that covers almost 300 acres. With the mercy of the rain gods, the reservoir is brimming. It is `water water everywhere' but no awesome sight to behold. But a strange silence befalls.

I spot two young boys by the side of the bund, carrying books and, surprisingly, a pair of binoculars. They are preparing for their mid-term exams in a place, which they feel offers them tranquillity. There are too many disturbances in the home, they tell me, half smiling. And binocs? Well, when they get bored, they do a bit of bird watching. There was a time when tourists used to come in dribs and drabs as post-rainy season also brought flocks of pond herons, open-billed storks, cormorants and babblers. The boys tell me many terrestrial and aquatic birds visit the reservoir between November and March. Though the surrounding vegetation has now thinned, the avian population has not forgotten Kullur Sandhai. Whiling away time by the dam site, these two friends got interested in birds. They saved money and bought a pair of good binoculars. But there was nobody to guide them. So whenever they meet any amateur or professional ornithologist at the site, they take quick lessons on the avian visitors.

The place can be restored to its earlier glory with some care and attention. Like the two boys, others in Kullur Sandhai are waiting for people to return to the park and the dam site.

Courtesy: http://www.hindu.com/mp/2006/11/13/stories/2006111300130300.htm

Athikkadavu : Woods, water and wings

For a walk in the wild, says W. Sreelalitha

PHOTOS: K. ANANTHAN

DIVERSE SIGHTS A Malabar Pied hornbill, a forest track along the River Bhavani in the Athikadavu Forest, a nest and a giant squirrel

It was my first RLT. I did not sleep a wink the previous night. It seemed like a blind date — I did not know what to expect. I realised later I should have snored away merrily. I had laid three conditions (to myself) for my debut — the trip should have a river, a trek and an encounter with a tiger. And lady luck, I guess, did not just smile, but guffawed, for the RLT had all the three. Well, almost!

Driving down to the Kobanari Reserve Forest in the Karamadai range, K. Kalidasan, president of Osai, an NGO, involved in environment conservation, mentioned the possibility of sighting hornbills. Accompanying us was forester K. Krishnasamy.

We got off the vehicle near Athikkadavu bridge, and looked down at the River Bhavani murmuring softly amid tall trees. Dazed after such a serene sight, a ruffle in a tree nearby grabbed our attention — the Indian giant squirrel. All crimson and black with a long, bushy tail, the squirrel could give its cousin in our balcony a run for its money! Once aware we were gaping at it, the rodent scurried off into the comfort of healthy shrubs.

Our one-and-a-half-km trek, just near the bridge, began. On the path, less than a foot wide, we frequently saw cakes of fresh and not-so-fresh dung of the gaur, ants — big and small, black or red — marching busily, flamboyant blue-green beetles, and loads of tiny insects.

The call of the birds

We carefully planted our steps. Cleverly camouflaging themselves in the greenery, the cicada chattered, the Malabar whistling thrush whistled, the crested serpent eagle cried, the hoopoe called, and the red-vented bulbul chirped. Dry brown leaves rustled underneath, and the river, running along our path, gurgled. This spontaneous orchestra in the wild made a perfect musical accompaniment for our journey. And just five minutes into the trek, the enchanting happened!

From atop a tree nearby, we heard an unpleasant sound like a row of boxes strung together being pulled with great effort. At once, an alert Kalidasan whispered: "Hornbill!" I could not see the bird, but soon realised that it was the flutter of its wings that was causing the discord. Had I come all this way just to spot this bird, I wondered.

But, in two seconds, as if to put me to shame for my impertinent thoughts, the rare and endangered Malabar pied hornbill took off brilliantly. Gliding with peerless flamboyance, he flew across the river, and perched himself on a treetop. He flaunted his imposing casque one minute, and tossed his head like a teasing lover, the next. After a few minutes of conceited peek-a-boo, he disappeared into a particularly flourishing tree. Ananthan, our photographer, waited for it. We too lingered, desperate for more — in vain. But this is one scene none of us would forget in a hurry.

As for me, I could not have cared if a tiger, with his lady and cubs in tow, preened endlessly in front of me for a photograph! As we continued to walk, we saw in the distance gibbering bonnet macaques jumping into the river and swimming to the bank in reckless abandon. Elsewhere, a couple of cormorants rested on a rock after a hearty breakfast and white-breasted kingfishers wheeled over the river for their meal. Throughout the stretch, we spotted at least five Indian giant squirrels. Magpie robins, babblers, bee-eaters and flower-peckers flying about with a sense of importance became boringly common.

Towards the end of the trek, we dipped our feet into the cool and pristine waters of the Bhavani, clinging to the smooth rocks. On the dry grey rocks were marvellous patterns of off-white algal remnants. Resting for sometime to watch tiny frogs and hoping an elephant would stop by, we trekked back to the vehicle. As it started, I grinned happily — I could not have asked for a better first RLT!

How to go

Karamadai is 35 km from Coimbatore. From there, drive down or take a bus to Athikkadavu, 30 km away. For permission to visit, call the District Forest Office at 0422 2302925.

Courtesy: http://www.hindu.com/mp/2007/04/09/stories/2007040900160300.htm

Govindapperi : Far from the madding crowd

Much more than just a village, says SOMA BASU

LUSH LANDSCAPES Govindapperi PHOTO: SOMA BASU

Enquire about Govindapperi and chances are it will be dismissed as any other unheard of village or place. Unless, of course, you are willing to do a bit of exploring, which I did. However, I must admit, there were many moments when I almost gave up the search.

It is neither easy to find nor describe the place. Despite proper directions, it took me all of six hours to cover the 167 km stretch from Madurai.

Govindapperi is a small village, tucked away deep in rural Tamil Nadu, where farmlands stretch for acres in all directions. The Western Ghats form a magnificent backdrop. Small waterfalls appear like silver streaks in the distance; and the watercourses through the fields and the grasslands, create a unique pattern on the landscape.

Open fields

At Govindapperi, you can take a tour of a farm with peacocks following you. The place gets plenty of rainfall and enjoys pleasant weather round the year.

The 400-odd acres of open fields, criss-crossed by small and big water retention basins, irrigation channels, streams and embankments, belong to a Kerala-based architect. When he bought the land in 1993, it had sparse vegetation, was overgrazed and prone to fires. It took 10 years of nurturing to restore and re-vegetate the land and transform it into lush fields. So much so, Govindapperi merits a place on an adventure traveller's map.

Apart from diverse fauna, the region has grown into a bird watcher's paradise. On reaching, I take a tour of the farm accompanied by Joseph, manager of the Mayura Lodge, the only accommodation available here.

The bungalows

The owner has built two bungalows, which are a curious mix of Kerala and Tamil Nadu architecture. Spartan but comfortable, my room offers a beautiful view.

As we walk across fields of organically grown tomatoes, egg plant, okra, ginger and lemon, I am thrilled to see different kinds of birds with brilliant plumage. Joseph rattles off their names — laughing dove, wood sand piper, red-wattle lapwing, black ibis, little cormorant, Oriental magpie, robin, spot-billed pelican, jungle babbler, purple sunbird, weavers and pipits...

On the fenced wall, I spot chameleons perched on the pillars. We walk around with half-a-dozen peacocks following us and hares jumping across our path. The air smells sweet, and the cool breeze is soothing. We reach a lake that is dotted with coconut and palm trees. Farmers use the water from the rain-fed lake to irrigate their fields. There's plenty for Nature lovers and trekkers at Govindapperi. Tiger, deer and boar are reportedly sighted here, given its proximity to the Kalakkad-Mundanthurai Sanctuary. You can enjoy a day's outing in the pristine surroundings of Govindapperi, which is by and large untouched by modern technology. You can also stay here for a few days and enjoy some guided tours. For that, you will have to make advance bookings at the Mayura Lodge.

How to reach there: Govindapperi is 167 km from Madurai; 137 km from Thiruvananthapuram and 67 km from Tirunelveli junction. Take the NH 208 to Tenkasi and turn off the highway on the road to Ambasamudram. Eighteen km later, you'll reach Kadaiyam. Turn right here and cross Mandiyur and Rajangapuram before reaching Govindapperi. While asking for directions, ask for the Kerala bungalow not the Mayura Lodge.

For accommodation (inclusive of food), contact Joseph (04634-240294) or Rajesh George (0484-2706475-6). The peak season is from October to March.

Courtesy: http://www.hindu.com/mp/2005/09/24/stories/2005092401550300.htm