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

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