Ulakkaiaruvi : A walk on the wild side

Ulakkaiaruvi: also a botany lesson, says SOMA BASU

THICK-SET FORESTS, rocky tracts, hidden pathways, an effusive waterfall, a three-km trek on an abandoned forest pathway. Ulakkaiaruvi is impossible to do alone. If it wasn't for the help of the Forest Department staff, this RLT wouldn't have seen the light of day.

Locals know the area but don't venture out much. But if you manage to find someone from the village or, better still, the Forest Department, the journey could become more than just a walk on the wild side — also an interesting lesson in botany.

Nestling in the deciduous Asambu forests in Kanyakumari district in the southernmost tip of the Western Ghats, Ulakkaiaruvi is about 30 minutes drive from Nagercoil. We walk our way up through a patchwork of lemon grass, under the shade of teak and rosewood and wild coconut and on a pathway along which keezhanelli and other medicinal plants abound, a live pharmacy with cures or palliatives for everything from jaundice and diabetes to chest pain.

I am shown a bilva tree. A medicinal plant whose oblong leaves form the stem too making a beautiful rangoli-like pattern. There's a mahabilva too, whose leaves are offered to Lord Siva. My companions, Sreevalsan and Ramdas, give me an interesting demonstration. They cut a branch of a tree called pullani ("vedanintholan" in Tamil meaning a hunter's friend). To my surprise, it oozes crystal clear water. We quickly fill our empty bottles and the replenishment is truly refreshing.

The area is an "active ecological habitat." More than 2,500 species of plants are estimated to grow here. The place, besides being a delight to botanists, is also an ornithologist's paradise with 150 types of listed birds found here. Plus: it is home to elephants, sambar, chital, Nilgiri tahr, langur, mouse deer and wild boar.

When we reached the base of the falls — which cascade from a height of 100 ft in a single long column of water resembling a pounder (and so the name olakkai) — my friends egg me on to climb up to the top.

The view from there is unforgettable. The shifting play of colour, the deep gurgle of water and a peppermint-like breeze contribute to the sylvan setting.

It is believed that the area may be declared a sanctuary. At the same time, the district administration has a project in the pipeline to make Ulakkaiaruvi more tourist friendly by laying paths, creating resting zones and perhaps introducing a winch to ferry people to the waterfall. But all this is still very much at the conceptual stage.

The way down is every bit as tough as the three-hour journey up and so this RLT is recommended only for the hardy.

Courtesy: http://www.hindu.com/mp/2004/08/21/stories/2004082100290100.htm

Chitharal : History atop a hillock

The serenity you experience at the cave is worth the arduous uphill climb, says SOMA BASU

PHOTO: SOMA BASU

STEPS TO THE PAST Chitharal

After finding my way from Nagercoil to Chitharal, a tiny, unpretentious village, I stand in front of a huge Kerala-style arch. This impressive entrance at the foot of the Thirucharanmalai hillock welcomes visitors but gives them no indication of the hard climb ahead.

Lesson 1, I learnt: Don't overestimate your level of fitness. Lesson 2: It's always wise to choose a day when the sun is not too sharp to start your ascent of what is practically a vertical cliff. For, the only attraction at the end of the demanding RLT is a cave atop the hill which has rock cut sculptures of the Jain Thirthankaras and attendant deities dating back to the 9th Century A.D.

Uphill task

The moment I cross the arch and begin climbing the steps, I realise this is not an easy RLT, what with the merciless sun beating down on my face and the climb steep. Cement benches line the entire 800-metre climb but with the sun blazing down, it's impossible to sit on them. The path uphill is dotted with cashewnut trees, interspersed with other shade-giving trees. Around the benches, beds of colourful flowers have been laid and huge trees bearing red and violet flowers complete the picturesque scene - the handiwork of a former District Collector of Kanyakumari, who tried to develop Thirucharanmalai into a tourist destination.

At last, I see two men climbing downhill and hopefully ask them how far away the shrine is. They merely smile, shrug and walk on, making me wonder how much longer the trek is. But, with each step I take, it seems that I am going back in time, delving into the past, to another era. Yes, Chitharal is one of the last few vestiges of Jainism. In days of yore, this rock shrine was a pilgrim centre for the Jains.

Around the period of the decline of Jainism during the rule of the Cholas in the 11th Century, it is believed that Chandragupta Maurya, along with a Jain ascetic Badrabhahu, reached Sravanabelagola in 298 BC. Their disciples travelled to this region to spread Jainism and chose the hillock for meditation. It was, however, converted into a Hindu temple in 1250A.D., and an image of Bhagavathy was installed.

Almost an hour later, I reach the top of the craggy hill. Its name, Thirucharanmalai, means `the hill holy to the charanas'.

The charanas are said to be the eighth class of samanas who acquired the siddhi by which they could conceal themselves in flowers, water or sky. It also means `a place where Jains live in large groups.'

Atop the hillock, a cool breeze brushes against my cheek and I take in the charming landscape. The jagged outline of the Western Ghats, enveloped by white puffs of clouds, presents a pretty picture against the blue canvas of the sky. Below, the gleaming lakes, fields, winding rivers, clusters of villages nestling amid coconut and palmyrah groves, tall church spires, lofty gopurams... appear enchanting.

I explore the natural cave that has made Chitharal so famous. What catches my attention on the hilltop are two huge rocks almost resting on each other to form a narrow opening through which you can see the beautiful landscape on the other side. Squeeze yourself through this aperture and take the natural stairway down to the rock sculptures. On the northern side of the overhanging rocks are carved images of the Thirthankaras, with their distinct hanging earlobes, the three-tiered umbrella over their tonsured heads, in sitting and standing postures. The images have broad shoulders, slender waists and a contemplative expression on their faces. Between each image are inscriptions in Vattezhuthu.

As you go around the wall of rock art, another flight of steps takes you to the imposing ruins of a temple perched right on top of the hill. Most of the deities in the central shrine are believed to be those of the Jain Thirthankaras, namely Parsvanatha and Mahavira. The Hindus, however, consider these to be images of Maha Vishnu. The central shrine is divided into three chambers — one for the Goddess, another for Mahavira, and, the third, for Parsvanatha in a standing posture. Another flight of steps leads to a pond in front of the shrine. On top of the central shrine is a brick gopuram. The three-storey pagoda apparently carried images of Mahavira. But I learnt that it was destroyed by lightning in 1908.

Tranquil spot

Chitharal is a tranquil spot — a confluence of history and religion. The serenity you experience at the cave is worth the arduous uphill climb. The district administration is busy giving the place a facelift. Many tourists have begun visiting the spot to catch a glimpse of the frescos and the panoramic view of the hills.

How to get there: Chitharal (also spelt Chidaral) is 55km from Kanyakumari, 36km from Nagercoil and 7km from Marthandam. The approach road is from Kandapuram, leading to Elanthavilas. Chitharal is located exactly 4km North East of Kuzhithurai.

Courtesy: http://www.hindu.com/mp/2007/04/07/stories/2007040700400300.htm

Kumarakoil : Ups and downs

Kumarakoil Not a perfect RLT destination, but you could still enjoy some picturesque sights, says Soma Basu

Photo: Soma Basu

For a short trip Kumarakoil

When reading up on Kumarakoil, I am tempted to visit this ancient Murugan temple on a green hillock surrounded by green fields and a lake. And I set out. I am on the mountain road that winds its way through small villages, I turn right 15 km down on Nagercoil-Thiruvananthapuram main road and in less than 30 minutes from Nagercoil, I reach the Kumarakoil village. A narrow, dusty, potholed road — dotted with paddy fields though — brings me right in front of the temple. A distressing truth unfolds. No green hill to climb. Just a cluster of houses fill up the area. Garbage is dumped on one side of the temple and on the other, few small shops sell puja articles. I think of cancelling the RLT and retreating. But having come all the way, I trudge ahead. I look up at the 250 feet high hillock and the temple appears a speck of white. The heat burns me and the 80-odd steps leave me breathless. Finally, at the temple entrance I am elated. I look below and see paddy fields, coconut groves and banana plantations... undulating green cover. The silence inside the temple is intense. The cool interiors refresh me. A grey-haired priest, guessing I am a first-timer and an unlikely pilgrim, offers help. He enlightens me about the temple’s history and mythology. Near Padmanabhapuram, the erstwhile capital of Travancore, this temple is on the slopes of legendary Veli Malai (legend has it that Lord Murugan married Valli here). The place is also known as Manamalai or Kalyanamala. The Travancore kings had set aside large areas of land and paddy fields to support the temple. By the temple are Kanjipuras, where ascetics and pilgrims were once served food. These structures are dilapidated now, but on special days, pilgrims are still offered prasadam.

Gauging my disinterest in the temple history, the priest arranges for a boat ride in the lake, which is the temple tank. A happy finale I thought as I hopped into the small boat. Somewhere in the middle of the tank, few people are taking a dip. As I leave them behind to the twittering of the birds perched on tree tops on the other end of the lake, I realise, it is Kumarakoil’s history and surroundings that makes it an interesting place.

How to get there: Kumarakoil is 34 km f rom Kanyakumari, 15 km North West of Nagercoil and three km from Thuckalay. It is also close to the old Padmanabhapuram palace.

Courtesy: http://www.hindu.com/mp/2007/07/16/stories/2007071651080200.htm

Manora,Vallanadu, Ariyankuppam, Vattaparai : The road comes to an end

In this final RLT, Soma Basu recalls the thrills and travails of exploring a hundred less-travelled roads

Historical heights

Manora 65 km from Thanjavur

Visited May 2004

I remember.The perilous journey to the tower across a tottering makeshift bridge with missing floorboards and shaky handrails.

Last week I wrote my 100th RLT (Kurangani) with a mind filled with mixed emotions. During four years of travelling across the Southern districts of Tamil Nadu and fringes of Kerala, I have realised travel writing is not easy. For, the sky will alway s be azure, rolling hills verdant and forests emerald. The vast emptiness of the pristine white sand on the beaches and the infinite blue sea is not easy to describe otherwise. But then the limited vocabulary was never a deterrent.

The objective always was to dig out exotic spots may be few knew about and fewer perhaps cared to visit. And now there can’t be a better moment, completion of hundred articles, to windup the column.

Several sweet and some not-so-pleasant memories will always remain etched. Poring over maps for hours and friendly suggestions even from strangers led me to several perfectly created places for the column such as the Cardamom Hills, Thengapattinam, Manora, Chunnambar, Valinokkam, Govindapperi, Kumbhavarutty, Kiliyur, Kuttikanam, Mannavannur, Ambanaad and many more.

Buck is beautiful

Vallanadu Black Buck Sanctuary 22 km from Tirunelveli

Visited June 2005

I remember. The thrill at spotting a black buck after a four-hour wait!

“Have you really been to all these places? Are they as beautiful as they look in your photographs?” From cynicism and suspicion to appreciation, they have all come my way and even earned me the nickname “RLT Soma”.

First encounter

What started as an innocuous decision about a travel column in November 2003 turned into quite a haul week after week over the years for the MetroPlus team. When I made my debut with Karaikudi’s majestic banglas, trepidation overshadowed enchantment. I was neither a travel writer nor a professional trekker and had no knowledge of Tamil (having come straight from Hindi heartland of Delhi). But all through I banked on my boss’s precious words: “Your personal experience will drive your narrative. What you see, smell, hear and taste will make your copy interesting.” To the best of my ability, wherever I went I tried to present the flavour of the area, many a times at the cost of aching and cramped legs, terrible back pain, a ravenously hungry stomach, several near misses of blinding my vision by some dangerously thorny branches and even slipping off wet rocks.

One of my most difficult treks was to Olakkay Aruvi water falls near Nagercoil. I began disastrously. While crossing a stream to enter the forest I tripped over a slippery rock much to my embarrassment. For me, my expensive digital camera was more precious and with some never-tried-before acrobatic skill I managed to hold it aloft like an Olympic flame. Several uphill walks left my pair of legs shaking like tottering stilts and each time I yearned to be tucked inside a rolling drum for the descend.

The Thenmala Eco-Toursim Centre on Madurai-Kollam Highway had me literally on the rope, not the road! I crawled across a rope from one bank of a pond to the other like a spiderwoman but was never sure whether I would survive to write the next RLT.

View from the tree-top

Chunammbar In Ariyankuppam near Cuddalore

Visited September 2006

I remember.The heady feeling at night in a tree-top house.

At Sittanavasal, I temporarily lost my bag to a chatter of prancing monkeys who pounced on me when I was climbing up to reach the Jain caves. I almost thought of lodging a police complaint when the simian brothers took pity and flung it back at me. But I dropped the catch and the bag hurtled down the very 150-odd steps that I had just managed to conquer huffing and puffing. I was back at step one to retrieve my bag.

Quitting reluctantly

I had ambitiously dreamt that all the trudging for the column would help me knock of several kilograms. Four years later, people still recommend a gym. I started, albeit, reluctantly. Today I quit yearning for more.

On these roads less travelled I met several well-meaning individuals, who volunteered information and entertained me with jokes, food and history. I met some forest caretakers more than once as they got transferred in these four years from one district to another. Some of them spoke a smattering of Hindi being ex-Army jawans and helped me to improve my knowledge of Tamil. These years have surely made me a better photographer, a keen bird watcher and much more knowledgeable about flora and fauna.

For a cool splash

Vattaparai: 15 km from Nagercoil

Visited: November 2007

I remember.The uncanny feeling it left. Anything could happen in this corridor that's teeming with wildlife.

The RLTs took me on smelly boat rides in Muthupet and Manakudy, rattling bus journeys to Manjolai, Thiruppodaimarudu and clattering taxis which broke down and left me stranded in the middle of nowhere for seven hours in Kanyakumari.

Bio-diversity

Whether it was experiencing a slice of bio-diversity from a close range or letting imagination run riot in fort ruins, or the romantic misty mountains and cascading water falls, the unusual swamp forests or the archaeological sites, each time it was an exciting and adventurous road that I refused to stray from even though it brought me dangerously close to elephants, bisons and bears. Various snorts and grunts kept pushing me deeper into the Saptur forest, and I had never been more scared. Mainly because my three-year-old son was with me. Unlike me, he was bereft of any tension, comfortably perched on the shoulder of a forest guard. My daughter’s first expedition with me was as a four-month-old in a basket to mist enveloped Addukam and Poolathur near Kodaikanal, where we almost lost our way back. Ever since she has accompanied me on almost every RLT.

All good things come to an end but I remain “not out” after a century. I owe a lot to scores of faceless and unknown readers who call, e-mail and write letters suggesting new and less-known places. I am only declaring my innings today. There are still many hidden spots in the State waiting to be explored.

Courtesy: http://www.hindu.com/mp/2008/01/28/stories/2008012851190300.htm