On the Tiger Trail... Pt. 2 [At Tiger Resort]

We had booked our inland trip on the internet some 6-8 months ago. Communications were a bit difficult and we never really knew what to expect. We rather like this 'unexpected' situation, old age adventurers or not! As it turned out it was absolutely wonderful, but not for the faint at heart. Getting there is the issue!

After a 24 hour journey to get there we soon settled into a routine that suited the tigers. Here it is...

We are awakened at 5.15 AM and quickly dress and go to the lounge for a wake-up of coffee/tea/ juice and a couple of cookies and a bit of fruit. We are in the jeeps by 6.00AM and at the National Park gate by 6.05. The entry is limited to the public between 6.15 and 10.00 AM and 3.15 to 6.00 PM.


The drivers vie for position but are assigned a specific route that they must drive on. There are five routes, all ending at 'Centre Point'. At Centre Point our ranger-escort gets a token that entitles us to an elephant ride if the mahouts, [elephant drivers], sight a tiger off road. The token gives you a priority number. After Centre Point we know if the mahouts have a tiger to see or not. We are then free to travel anywhere in the 1131 square kilometre park. [Altitude 1443 to 2660 feet.]




The park is crawling with game. Not as many species as Africa but very plentiful of the varieties that are there. Leopard are rare, we saw none and there are about 55 tigers and 14 cubs at present. The terrain is not what we were expecting: There are forests with mysterious and interesting trails, meadows, caves and ancient rock walls, streams and water holes. I can see why the Maharaja had his summer home here 1000 years ago.

We had six game drives the time we were there, two each day. We had a 'picnic breakfast' each of the three days in the bush. About 10 AM we would return from the ride and clean up and maybe have a nap before lunch. Then our usual Indian lunch, [at 1.00 PM], rice , lentils, two or three unidentifiable vegetable dishes and a sweet of some sort, and a very small dessert. By this time we are getting a bit weary and rest until the 3.00 PM trip to the jeeps and to the Park Gate and repeat the process. Only this time we are free to roam the park at leisure. After a day of tiger hunting we are anxious for some tranquil shots of docile does or landscape etc. The air and temperature was lovely, not all all oppressive or uncomfortable.



Back to the camp by six, dinner around 7 to 7.15. Really I could not tell the difference between lunch and dinner. regarding the food. The service was impeccable, served by very attentive young men who probably earn less than you would pay for a case of beer or a bottle of wine, PER WEEK!


We had some great evening meals with other independent travellers, from the UK and Sri Lanka. On Friday as we were about to commit some horrendous crime for a feed of good old beef, we were told that there was a BBQ tonight! There was a group travelling together and they were seated separately. We 10 independents were on our own little enclave. The waiters served a series of dishes, about 10 total, that were absolutely delicious. In spite of being told horror stories about food in India we ate them all. After the 10th dish and third wine, we were full. About this time our Sri Lankan friend told us that that what we had eaten was merely the appetizer, now we had to have the meal. Gadzooks, what a contrast to a few kilometres away there are people scraping out a living one Rupee at a time. [A Rupee is 2 1/2 cents]. Some of us had a bit of the main meal, but most were more than content and we settled into beautiful dialogue of varied issues in the world. It was wonderful. We all knew that the food would not be wasted but come to good use by the staff and family. [I believe that is the reason that the same amount of food is cooked for four as for twenty!]

Soon to bed and it starts all over again the next day.

I digress for a bit...

The Caste System is no longer in use in India, officially, but it still lingers on. We can see it in every day operations. The manager, the head man, the head waiter, the servers, the new man, the laundry man, the sweeper, the driver, the guide, the head guide, the park ranger, the head park ranger and so it goes. I suppose it exists at home and possibly even at Canada Ticket, but not so obvious. People do not step out of their 'class', [wrong word]. But I hope you understand. It is very subtly structured. Everybody knows where they fit into the system and few step out of it. We can see some who will go beyond their position and will pull themselves up by their bootstraps. To me I can see it almost instantly. I wish that I could assist some of the people who have exceptional skills but are basically stuck there for life. That life may be perfectly acceptable to them however. We, 'on the other side' are merely observers to this system. I feel privileged to witness it with the experience that I have in our world.

Wow, in reading this over I realize that I have got a bit heavy, sorry, but I have to state it.

Back to the game Park...

In our quest for tigers, [it is really our driver and guide who want to show us tigers], we have seen the tigers and merely want to feel and smell and absorb the country, tigers or not. To us, a quiet 10 minutes with the engine shut off and stopped in some forest glade with only birds and monkeys making noise is music to our ears. It is sometimes magical, not a word spoken, however the possibility of some 'alarm call' from a deer or monkey that a tiger is lurking about adds to the magic!

The driver and park guide certainly want to find tigers. They are knowledgeable and love the other wildlife but I think are driven by the tourists need to 'see tigers'.



The actual sighting and viewing a tiger is an exhilarating experience, On one occasion a young male came up out of the bush and crouched and observed us like we were prey. He had no fear of us at all. He eventually crept even closer to observe us from around a tree trunk, possibly 10 meters away.



There was not a sound to be heard from the enthralled viewers. I think they all knew that we were witnessing something very special indeed. Two nights on a train in India, sleeping in our clothes was well worth the price of witnessing these creatures. It is so hard to believe that less than 100 years ago our ancestors came and shot those innocent animals and had them stuffed. The last Maharaja apparently shot over 110! Shame on him.




Sleep comes easily at night, because in spite of it all there is really not too much leisure time, and excitement is always a moment away.

All too soon the three nights are soon over and it is time to start the journey back to 'The Great White Whale' that we are hoping is awaiting us in Mumbai.

That is another story...