We’ve moved quite a bit in the last 4 days, and I’m starting writing this blog on our flight from Kochi to Mumbai. I will cover the 4 days in which we have travelled from Munnar down to the bird sanctuary in Thettekad, then from there for our last night in Kochi, and finally our day of travel out of Kerala and up to the north-western desert state of Rajasthan.

Friday –

Although we can do a bit of exercise in our bedroom, we were both missing a bit of a leg stretch and so we started the morning on Friday with a 30 minute run out from The Shade. The Ghats were the first place where it was cool enough at 7am to run so we thought we’d take the opportunity despite the precipitously steep roads all around. Feeling well-exercised, we had our last breakfast on the balcony and packed our bags ready for the taxi Santhosh had booked.

Santhosh came out to say goodbye and took our photo, so we managed to get a photo with him in return. Packed up into the taxi, we sped down the mountain roads and into the Western Ghats foothills where the Thettekad bird sanctuary was located. As our host, Vinod, told us later that day, Thettekad is the only forest bird sanctuary in India and is a hotspot for several endemic species to Southern India. The bird sanctuary itself was only 20 minutes or so off of the main road from Munnar to Kochi, and so we arrived after 2 hours or so around lunchtime.

We walked a little way with our bags into the sanctuary and found “Birds Song Homestay” where we had booked 2 nights quite recently. The homestay was run by Vinod and his family, Vinod being the chief guide of the sanctuary where he had worked for 27 years. He showed us to our room which was neat and tidy but simple and in a separate building to the main house, and wrestled with the air conditioning remote until it reluctantly started working.

Vinod had asked us on arrival whether we were “birders”, which was the word for people in the know for avid bird-watchers or bird photographers, to which we said we weren’t, but we did very much like birds. Vinod looked very slightly disappointed by this, and left us to settle in. Vinod’s mother served us a very good lunch out on our verandah, and we had the rest of the afternoon to ourselves until we were to go “owling” at dusk.

As we unpacked, the clouds outside began to gather and the wind picked up. After a little while, we got the first proper experience of the pre-monsoon rains that sometimes fall over Kerala in the hot season, bar the time we heard them overnight in Kochi. The heavens truly opened and the thunder was nearly continuous for a time. We sat out on the verandah which had just about enough cover to watch without us getting soaked. To our disbelief and despite our protests, Vinod’s daughter and mother kept venturing out under an umbrella from the main house to bring us sweet, milky coffee and snacks.

Once the rains cleared, we got ready for our first taste of real birding. We set out in Vinod’s car with a bird photography enthusiast from Chennai who had taken advantage of the fact his doctor wife was doing a set of night shifts to escape to the bird sanctuary. He was a jolly man who chuckled at everything, called Vinod “sir”, and kept saying things like “luck makes up for all!” when we managed to spot a rare bird. I was very much tickled by the fact that both Vinod and our friend from Chennai had clearly intentionally worn forest green and camoflage clothing whilst I happened to be wearing something similar as well, whereas Ellie had set out in a bright orange jumpsuit and a vivid turquoise rain jacket.

We got out at a forest track, and watched Vinod work his magic to try and attract/find/track our friend’s target birds that could be seen at that time of day, the Indian pitta and the nightjar. As dusk fell, we walked to and fro on a dusty track whilst Vinod cupped his ears and played a variety of bird-call tracks from his portable speaker. He had an incredible ability not only to hear bird calls inaudible to us, but identify the species and it’s direction and distance amongst the myriad of other insect and bird sounds, not to mention passing rickshaws and motorbikes. In this way, we were able to track the pitta and the nightjar, though our friend wasn’t able to photograph the latter and bitterly reprimanded himself for his slowness before chuckling and resuming his normal cheery demeanor.

As it became properly dark, we got back into the car and drove through some small villages on the way to find a mottled owl. We pulled up on a track by a field, and Vinod went ahead with his owl calls then beckoned us forward. He pointed to a pitch black bough of a tree above us and told our friend from Chennai to get ready. Clicking on his torch, he illuminated an owl sitting on the bough above us, looking directly at the four of us looking up at him. It was an amazing sight to see, and nearly as amazing that Vinod had located him in the darkness. Our friend took his photos, and it was only when it was too late that it occurred to me that the owl was close enough for me to take a photo with my phone camera. After a couple minutes, Vinod turned off the light and we drove back to the homestay. (Don’t look too hard at the below photo, there’s no owl in it).

Once back, we had our late dinner out on the verandah and headed to bed as we were due to be up and out by 6.30am the following morning to catch the morning birds.

Saturday –

We got up early as planned, and sat out with a coffee that Vinod’s mother had kindly made for us before we set off. We were accompanied by our friend from Chennai again, and the four of us drove in a different direction this time to find a good spot to see several different species that we on our friend’s target list. We pulled up by a slope of granite rock in the jungle surrounded by dead trees which offered a perfect view of any perched birds without the foliage getting in the way, and stayed in this area for some time.

The morning started misty but the sun quite quickly burnt the mist away and the day became hot and muggy. Throughout the course of a couple of hours, we spotted a variety of endemic and beautiful birds which our friend was exceptionally excited about though often failed to photograph. On several occasions where he thought he’d got a decent photo, Vinod would look at it over his shoulder and shake his head sadly or tut disapprovingly. These included greater and lesser flameback woodpeckers, malabar parrokeets and malabar parrots (the only Indian parrot species), and the famed trogon which was only to be found in two places in India and, somehow, Costa Rica (see last photo for a Malabar trogon.)

Once we had our fill of these, we headed to a chai-vendor in one of the surrounding villages for some tea and snacks in lieu of breakfast. Feeling replenished, we headed back out to look for the rare “frog-mouth” for which Thettekad is renowned. Vinod told us that the sanctuary has 17 other guides apart from himself, 14 of which were his students and 3 of which were trained by his students. A couple of these were out in the surrounding area looking for rare birds, and had found a frog-mouth (which are nocturnal, see last picture) sleeping in a tree. We hurried there and got the necessary photos of the bizarre looking bird, though our Chennai friend was just a little disappointed that the eyes of the bird were closed.

We spent a brief period of time looking unsuccessfully for a particular kind of woodpecker in the same area, then made back for the homestay for lunch. Vinod, however, received a phone-call from one of his students and, after a short conversation in Malayalam, turned the car around. “I’m sorry”, he said dramatically, “but we need to turn around”. Our Chennai friend asked what was wrong. “Nothing is wrong, they’ve found a bay owl”. This produced enough of a reaction in our friend that he actually kept clapping Vinod on the back as he was driving, and looked like he might kiss him on the cheek. Vinod looked at us in the rear-view mirror. “Are you OK?”, we said we were. He gave us a smile and said, “that’s birding.”

And with that we were racing back to another spot in the jungle to meet us with Vinod’s students. They led us through a jungle path to a tree and pointed up. An owl was perched only a few metres away, apparently asleep. It was indeed a Sri Lankan bay owl, which, we were told, are rare enough that several of Vinod’s students comb areas of the jungle each day looking just for them. Today they had been lucky. Our Chennai friend took at least a thousand photographs whilst we wondered at the magical looking bird sitting quietly up on a branch. It was at this point we discovered that we could just about take a photograph through the lens of the binoculars, which are below.

As we turned to go, Vinod’s students told us that they had made another discovery. They took us a bit further through the undergrowth, and pointed up to the thick canopy of a tree. We stared and, for a moment, couldn’t see anything. But, with the help of the binoculars, three frog-mouths were sat there, eyes wide open, staring directly at us. They are by far and away the strangest looking birds I have ever seen, and it was quite something to see the three of them gawking back at us. Our friend took another few thousand photographs before being almost literally dragged away by Vinod.

Compared to the morning, the afternoon was quite tame. It was Vinod’s son’s 7th birthday and so we got a share of the banana leaf curry that the Keralans have for special occasions. Vinod hadn’t clarified whether we were owling that evening, but as the afternoon progressed it was clear that the time was ours. We read, did some exercise, had dinner out on the verandah, and took ourselves off to bed.

Sunday –

We woke at around 8am, packed, and went outside for breakfast. We were served cold curry and a cold boiled egg by a slightly sheepish looking Vinod’s mum. We couldn’t tell whether we were late, but no-one had told us the timing. Shrugging this off, we waited for the taxi that was coming later in the morning. Once loaded up, we said goodbye to Vinod and left for Fort Kochi.

Our driver immediately stopped once we had left the bird sanctuary and said “photo, photo!”. I thought he meant a photo of the destination address, but he in fact meant a selfie with us in the backseat. This kind of thing has happened on several occasions in India so far. Each time, I wonder whether there is some kind of nefarious purpose to people taking our photos, asking where we are going or where we are from, or showing us the way to somewhere or other. However, so far, it has always come from a genuine interest or desire to be helpful. Long may that last in the north.

We arrived in Kochi and our old homestay, Greenwoods Bethlehem, at about 1pm and were met by a very effusive Sheeba and Ashley, who looked genuinely delighted to see us. When we left Greenwoods last time they had cleared up the room debacle by explaining that someone was making a big fuss about requested the room that we were in, and so Sheeba suggested to us that we moved rooms. We told her that if she’d said it would have made their lives easier, then we would have been very happy to move, but she said she didn’t want to inconvenience us. This explanation didn’t hold up to thinking about it too much, but it was nice that they had tried to clear the perplexing incident up a bit.

Sheeba and Ashley sat us down as usual with chai and asked all about our stay in Munnar and Thettekad. Eventually Sheeba had to tend to attend a grandchild, which she always seemed to be either carrying or tending to, and Ashley showed us to our room. We got ourselves settled in and headed out to Mary’s kitchen, a local fish restaurant we had been to previously and loved, for lunch.

The food was delicious as always, but the day was stiflingly hot and humid – probably the hottest it has felt so far (so hot, infact, that I seem to have forgotten to take any photos until the evening). Even sitting still under a fan made us sweat. We got an afternoon coffee from one of the good art cafes, got a couple of essentials from the shop, and headed to the Cochin Club pool to cool off. Other than one other man, we were again the only people there. The water was like tepid bath-water, but even so it was a blessed relief from the heat.

After cooling down, we made the hot 20 minute walk back to the homestay. The following day was the first flight since travelling from Mumbai to Kerala, and our bags had become heavier and less organised. So, we took an hour or so to reorganise before walking back to Fort Kochi for dinner.

We headed to our favourite spot in the garden of the art gallery, and had pizza and tacos which, as usual, came has a welcome break from three time daily curries. From there, we went to the wine bar across the road and tried some more Indian wine. It was still very hot and humid, so the cold wine and cold beer was a delight. We then walked back down to Greenwoods and to bed.

Monday –

We woke early, as our taxi was booked for 8am. Sheeba had made us some jaggery pancakes and a huge plate of fruit for breakfast, and sat with us whilst we ate. All packed, we said our fond goodbyes to Sheeba and Ashley, and made for the taxi.

The hour or so journey was uneventful, as was the flight from Kochi to Mumbai. Despite buying a portable scales from one of the shops in Kochi which suspiciously told us both our bags weighed exactly 15kg, our bags each came in at a couple of kg over the limit but the check-in agent didn’t seem to care. We were thankful of not having to unpack and repack the bags at the front of the queue as you would for EasyJet or RyanAir.

Once in Mumbai, we had to make the journey from Terminal 1 to Terminal 2 (several kilometres away), which we had to do when flying to Kerala right back at the start of the trip, as our rickshaw driver had dropped us at the wrong terminal. We had learnt from our mistake there in waiting for the shuttle bus as it came irregularly, and even then you were unlikely to get onboard amidst the throng. Instead, we ate a leisurely lunch in the outdoor food court and walked round to get a rickshaw from the rank to terminal 2, feeling like old hands at travelling.

Mumbai airport, like Kochi airport, was sparklingly clean and had practically an entire mall inside of it. We passed again through security, where I had to explain what my cartridges for my digital whiteboard stylus were to a uncomprehending security officer, which wasn’t altogether easy. Having narrowly avoided being dragged off for further questioning, we found a spot at by our gate and settled in.

The short flight to Udaipur went about as smoothly as could have been hoped, and we landed ten minutes early. Udaipur airport is small as it only has flights to Dehli, Mumbai and a couple of other local airports. Our bags were on the conveyor practically before we’d disembarked, and we stood outside in the mercifully dry evening warmth waiting for our airport transfer to the hotel.

After waiting for 15 or so minutes with no sign of the driver, I messaged the hotel who promptly rung me back. The manager apologetically explained that, since today was Holi, his driver had decided to turn his phone off and go out to celebrate, so they couldn’t get hold of him. He did, however, call the taxi rank manager at the airport and arranged for him to charter us a cab for free.

The toothless but friendly old taxi rank manager, who I had previously told that we definitely didn’t want a taxi because we had one booked thank you very much, came over to us and brought us to a beat up old cab. The driver wandered about for a minute, then got in and drove us the thirty minutes or so through to the dark towards our hotel right in the centre of Udaipur.

Udaipur was, in some ways, similar to Mumbai mainly in that it feels very difficult to Kerala. The usual cacophony of motors and car horns was ever present as always, but the palm trees and tropical humidity was gone. Being dark, we didn’t see a great deal of the city as we passed through it, but our taxi driver had to stop at a road block to cars 200m from the hotel, so we walked the rest of the way. The taxi driver got out to help us with our bags, at which point we realised he was very clearly quite drunk. This explained how he managed to clip the arm of a boy walking in the street without noticing, and other moderately hair-raising close calls along the way.

NB that Ellie has only allowed me to put the below photo of her behind me in on the understanding that she did smile but I took the photo too quickly and that she was not, in fact, miserable as sin.

Death thus avoided, we arrived at Hotel Baba Palace at the end of 13 hours of travelling. The hotel is opposite the famous Jagdish palace right in the heart of Udaipur. The hotel manager was friendly but slightly hapless, as the taxi fiasco had suggested to us. We waited for a while for the bellboy in the lobby, then were shown to our suite room on the 3rd floor. The room was passably clean and tidy (this hotel was probably one of the worst rated we are staying in on our trip, so we were feeling a little trepidation of what we might find), with a massive balcony boasting a great view over the temple and its square choked with rickshaws, motorbikes and pedestrians.

After dropping our things, we headed up to the rooftop restaurant for food. North Indian cuisine seems to bear more resemblance to what one might get in a British Indian restaurant, which was very tasty and will certainly help us regain the pounds lost in yoga school. The restaurant manager also had some Kingfisher cans in the fridge, which I’m not sure he strictly was supposed to be selling given he ran them through on the till as “peanut butter masala”, but we were grateful for anyway. After eating, we headed back down to the room and promptly to sleep.

And now, we are in Rajasthan! There seems to be quite a lot to do in Udaipur, so I will divide this week into two blogs.

Until next time,

Rob xx