25th January: Evening at the Golden Temple in Amritsar

After a relaxed last morning in Chandigarh we caught a tuk-tuk to the bus station, armed with some take-away veg pakora.  When we arrived the 12:30 pm bus was completely full. There was no counter from which to purchase our tickets, so we were slightly worried that we might not be able to get on the next bus either as more and more people seemed to be arriving. Thankfully we spotted a group of people next to a bus that was waiting on the other side of the station, and managed to buy tickets before the bus reached the crowd. People ignored us for a while but eventually someone grabbed the money from John's hand and a little later delivered a ticket.  Thus we left Chandigarh at around 1pm on a direct bus to Amritsar.

The "deluxe" bus was comfortable and John settled back to immerse himself in his recently acquired book on India. I was delighted that after a few kilometres the music stopped, TV screens were pulled out, and we were shown Bollywood movies. The first movie seemed to be a comedy, but it was a bit hard to follow without understanding Hindi. The second movie was a typical Bollywood romance full of little video clips and with great replicas of Top Gun scenes (the hero was in the air force). It was much easier to follow, but turned out to be very tragic, as the two main characters were always separated. We arrived in Amritsar before the end and this came as a relief as there was no sign of any happy ending.

After a five hour bus journey it took us two auto rickshaws to get from the bus to the hotel. Our first auto rickshaw stopped right by a crossroads as he was allegedly not allowed to enter the area; we then transferred our luggage onto his friend's rickshaw for what was only 200m in the end. The City Heart Hotel, with its marble floor and well-appointed rooms, was a significant upgrade over our hostel in Chandigarh without much of a price difference.

Another great advantage was the hotel's location: we quickly dropped our bags and walked the 100m to the Golden Temple's entrance. No shoes or socks are allowed inside the temple, and visitors also have to wash their feet in the little basins at the entrance. In addition, both men and women have to cover their head. John looked even more silly than usual with my red scarf over his head.

It was already quite dark but the temple was nicely lit, with its golden colour reflecting on the surrounding water-tank (the "pool of nectar"). We enjoyed the soothing sound of the prayer as we walked around the beautiful temple.  We later found out that we were hearing priests chanting in Gurmukhi from the Sikh holy book, broadcast by loudspeakers. 

A friendly Sikh, recognisable by his brightly-coloured turban, came up to us and shared a few interesting facts about his religion and the temple. Apparently he comes every evening to pray and talk to tourists. There was no sting in the tail; he really did just want to tell us about the temple.  We were surprised to see that among the crowd of tourists and devotees were women wearing red turbans and white robes. He told us that they were Americans who had converted to Sikhism and were studying in the Sikh school of Amritsar.

We then followed pilgrims on the walkway (the "gurus' bridge") crossing the pool of nectar to reach the temple (Hari Mandir Sahib or Darbar Sahib). The prayer room on the ground floor was richly decorated and full of devotees. The original copy of the Sikh holy book, the Guru Granth Sahib, was kept under a shroud. The interior of the temple was as beautifully decorated as its exterior (no photos allowed, sadly). We slowly proceeded to the second floor where a similar prayer room with a balcony overlooking the ground floor was located. Another holy book seemed to be covered under a shroud. Again, many devotees were sitting, absorbed in prayers. We thus continued our visit walking up to the rooftop and then back down and out of the temple.

On our way out we decided to have a look at the pilgrim's canteen and perhaps have a tea. As it happened they were serving dinner rather than tea; as we were quite hungry, we decided to give it a go. We followed the line of people, were handed a plate and a bowl, and walked to a large room on the first floor. A few mats had been laid out and people were sitting with their plate in front of them. We did the same and a few minutes later our plates were full with delicious dahl, a vegetable curry, some kind of rice pudding, and chapatis. The thirst for the experience dealt with our initial concerns as to whether the food would be safe for us to eat. It turned out to be absolutely fine. The dahl, heavily flavoured with ginger and garlic, was one of the tastiest we have had all trip.

Three meals a day are served to thousands of people of every origin and religion for free every day. You are welcome to make a donation (as we did, since we are lucky enough not to need a free meal) but nobody demands it. We really enjoyed our dinner and were truly impressed by the generosity of the community and the peaceful atmosphere in and around the temple. 

24th January: Are we still in India?

Chandigarh is a 1950's vision of modern India (via Switzerland). Le Corbusier designed a city divided by dual-carriageway roads into square kilometre "sectors", each with low-rise housing and its own shops, schools, doctor, and temples. Large roundabouts join the criss-crossing highways. The result is a city that is completely different from anything else we had seen in India: clean, green, and apparently quite comfortable and convenient for living; the trade-off was that it seemed remarkably soulless.

This is not India  

For breakfast we repeated our trip through the bus depot, at this time of day rather more populated, to Sagar Ratna for a tasty South Indian breakfast of idli and dosas (served with delicious coconut chutney). We then caught a tuk-tuk over to the Fantasy Rock Garden, which apparently comes second only to the Taj Mahal for visitor numbers in India. A narrow path leads through a maze of high walls, waterfalls, and sculpture created from recycled junk (shards of pottery, broken glass and jewellery, and even electrical sockets), ending rather bizarrely in the "third phase", which seemed to be a theme park (with an impressively incongruous camel). 

Posing in front of the waterfall

Apparently I was a curiosity worth photographing; they were polite enough not to ask Clem

Slightly unnerving

Clem enjoying the swing in the "third phase"

Initially we found the rock garden rather underwhelming, but eventually we warmed to its idiosyncratic charm, in part because of the story of its creation. Nek Chand, a refugee from Pakistan following Partition, built the garden by himself over a period of 15 years from the detritus of the newly constructed city. In the 1970s the garden was officially "discovered", and he was given 50 labourers to help him expand his imaginative project. Now it allegedly receives 5000 visitors per day (although not nearly so many were there on the day that we visited, thankfully).

Bidding us farewell

From the rock garden we walked along the road to Sukhna Lake, an artificial lake where we spent a pleasant half-hour on the water in a small, swan-shaped paddle-boat. I left Clem to do most of the work, of course. I'm in entire agreement with Le Corbusier on this one: if you're going to design a city, give it a lake.

Bringing Switzerland to India...

...starting with the lake and paddle-boats

Swanning around (not much space for luggage though)

After a short ride on a cycle rickshaw, which took the large roundabouts with aplomb, we arrived in Sector 26 for a very late lunch. The food at Copper Chimney was good, and as a bonus I was able to watch Courtney Walsh and Curtley Ambrose bowling out the Australians. Apparently Indian TV wanted some old school retribution for the white-washing that the current Australian team have just given the Indians. After lunch we asked the lobby of a nearby hotel a question that Clem was pressing me to ask: whether there was a nearby barber. We were told that for religious reasons all barbers in Punjab were closed every Tuesday; thus my increasingly bushy beard lived to bristle another day.

From Sector 26 we took a cycle rickshaw to the Rose Garden, another impressively verdant part of Le Corbusier's grand design. We wandered around for an hour or so through what is apparently the largest rose garden in India. There was even a patch of Maggie Thatchers (white rather than red, of course).

English rose?

Impressive colour coordination

From the Rose Garden we walked back towards Sector 17, which holds the "city centre". This is a large square surrounded by shops, rather like an American outdoor mall but with more space in between. We browsed around for a while, adding yet more books to our burdensome bags, and then wandered back through the dark to our hotel.  Our lunch was so large and so late that we didn't need dinner (laziness might have been a factor too), so we munched on crisps and biscuits left over from our train journey.  Classy.

22nd-23rd January: Khajuraho to Chandigarh, via several of Delhi's finest cafes

22nd January

After two days of exploring the magnificent medieval temples of Khajuraho, it was time for a rest. We spent the morning in the peaceful garden of Hotel Surya, gently warmed by the sun's winter rays. We made the most of the unusually functional wifi to catch up on the blog and plan ahead for our next month in India.

Since our experimentation with Agrasen the previous night had not been a success, we retreated to the reliably tasty fare of Raja's Cafe. We lingered there for a while, enjoying the view over the sunbathing temples. Educated by the misery of spending 24 hours on the train from Puri to Umaria with only biscuits and crisps to stave off hunger, we asked if they could do take-away. So it was that we headed to Khajuraho that evening with three foil-wrapped treasures among our luggage.

Sunset from Khajuraho train station

We had only been able to find 3 AC Tier tickets for the 11-hour journey from Khajuraho to Delhi's Nizamuddin station. In the main section of each compartment this would have been a significant disadvantage, as the same area holds six berths rather than four. Thankfully, however, we had the two "side" berths, which lie on top of each other parallel with the aisle, where the difference between second and third class is minimal. The journey was relatively comfortable, and the two-hour wait at one of the stations actually helped us, delaying our arrival at Delhi from 5.30 am to a much more civilised 7.30 am.

The only excitement came at around 10.30 pm, just after we had settled down to sleep. We were slowly pulling away from a station when I was jolted from somnolescence by two loud thuds against the window just by my head. Clem asked from above what was happening; nothing, I said, thinking it was perhaps just someone knocking on the window as we left the platform. I was thus rather shocked to find, pulling back the curtain in the morning, that the window was completely shattered. The fragmented glass rippled out from the two large impact craters. Thankfully the interior layer of the double glazing had held firm; these trains were evidently built to withstand fiercer assaults. It was not only my window that had been stoned; the window next to ours bore similar scars.

Under attack

23rd January

At 7.30 am we were deposited at Nizamuddin station in southern Delhi. That left us with a mere ten hours to make our way north through the city to catch our train from New Delhi station to Chandigarh, the capital of Punjab. Pushing our way past the touts who were blockading the exit from the station, we decided to take a prepaid taxi; it might be overpriced, but at least everyone pays the same premium. At New Delhi station we flirted with leaving our rucksacks in the station "cloakroom", but we eventually decided to retain our burden for the ten-minute walk to Connaught Place.

There we found the comfortingly familiar surroundings of a Costa coffee shop, where we recovered from the journey with an expensive but excellent burst of caffeine and chocolate. Leaving Clem in charge of the baggage, I left to consult a tourist office over the road that insisted it was a government agency. I walked out when he proved this to be a lie, giving me the hard sell that the only way to travel around Punjab and Himachal Pradesh was by hiring a private car, for a mere 30,000 rupees.

After lunch at a surprisingly - and unjustifiably - expensive place called The Embassy, we found another coffee shop that claimed to have wifi. It turned out that all they could offer was a 15 minute "free trial", but this was at least sufficient for the few tasks that we needed to complete that afternoon. We were there for almost two hours, during which time Clem cautiously watched several shady characters enter the cafe, look around, leave, and then repeat fifteen minutes later, clearly "casing the joint". Two of them eventually sat down behind me, looking over my shoulder at Clem. I had to tell one of them, first politely but much less politely the second time, to "stop staring at my wife" (which is the magic word to elicit a modicum of respect).

Keeping an eye our for the crooks who had been scouting the cafe, we walked back up to the station to catch the 5.15 Shatabdi Express to Chandigarh. The train took around three hours, and the AC Chair carriage was comparable in comfort to an intercity train in Europe. We were even offered complementary snacks.

At Chandigarh station we wandered through the darkness looking for a taxi that would agree to use the meter, the only way of getting a fair deal. Instead a dozen different fares, all exorbitant, were yelled at us by an entourage of autorickshaw drivers and "fixed price" taxi drivers, who insisted that meters either never existed or no longer worked. Finally we spotted a bus stop, and as we made our way there a rickshaw driver offered use reasonable price. We piled on our luggage and off we went, Clem keeping here eyes peeled make sure that we were not being taken in entirely the wrong direction. Repeating several times that we had pre-booked our hotel ensured that we arrived in the right place, in front of Hotel Satyadeep.

The hotel had received mixed reviews, including as "the best of a bad bunch" in an overpriced town. We were pleasantly surprised, however, as the room and bathroom were spacious and clean and the hot water worked fine. Even the sheets were a relatively pure shade of white, a rarity in India's less expensive hostels.

For dinner we set out to look for a South Indian place that Clem had picked out from the guide. Our route, however, took us through a deserted bus depot that did not feel particularly safe, so we turned back. On our way we passed an Italian restaurant located beneath a luxury hotel. Putting aside our strong preference for local food, we greatly enjoyed munching on surprisingly decent pasta and pizza in comfortable surroundings.

20th-21st January: The medieval temples of Khajuraho

20th January

After breakfast in the peaceful garden of the hotel, we walked to the western group of temples. We paid the entrance fee (25 times the cost for Indians) and rented an audio guide. Security guards were looking carefully through bags but they seemed more interested in cigarettes than anything else. They watched John with great suspicion.

There are five main temples in the western group: Lakshmana, dedicated to Vishnu and completed around AD954; Kandariya-Mahadev, dedicated to Shiva, which is the largest temple and features 872 statues of 1m high; Devi Jagadamba, dedicated to Kali; Chitragupta, dedicated to sun god Surya; and Vishvanath, dedicated to Shiva. Inside Varaha, a small shrine facing Lakshmana Temple, was an impressive and finely-carved sandstone sculpture of Vishnu's boar incarnation, dating from 900 AD. A similar shrine holding a beautiful sculpture of Nandi, Shiva's bull, faced Vishvanath Temple.

Lakshmana temple on the right

Vishnu's boar avatar

Nandi and John (and the bright yellow audio guide)

The temples were built by the Chandelas, who were regularly at war (they were finally defeated by the Muslims in the 16th century). Besides their Indo-Aryan architecture, the most interesting features of the temples, and what made them famous, are the finely carved sculptures. In addition to representations of war scenes (particularly on the Lakshmana Temple), gods, goddesses, and animals both real and mythical, the temples boast fine sculptures of sensuous heavenly nymphs (surasundari). Their sensuality stemmed from their finely chiseled features, their voluptuous forms protected only by revealing clothing, and their seductively swaying hips. These beautiful creatures often appeared to be removing a thorn from their feet, applying make-up, gently squeezing the water out of their long hair after a bath, or posing for the sculptor.

Lakshmana temple

The enormous Kandariya-Mahadev temple

A marble shivaling

A later temple with Muslim, Buddhist, and Hindu architecture

The temples are also famous for the presence of erotic carvings. Naughty couples are represented all around the temples (solo acts and trios also feature), but the most suggestive sculptures have been placed on the outside of the temple at the junction of the sanctuary, where the statue of the god lives, and the room from which devotees come to worship. As we understood, this was used to symbolise in Tantra the union between the devotees and the god.

With a little help from their friends

Voyeuristic elephant

More acrobatics

Only the Matangesvara, just outside of the western group enclosure, is still an active temple. Although we were not able to see it, it is supposed to hold a 2.5m-high Lingam (phallic image of Shiva).

Matangesvara temple

The audio guide was very good, with a narrator whose English accent was easy to understand. It was great fun was to hear his over-the top imitation of the British explorer who discovered the temples and was shocked by the "sexual sculptures on temples". The same explorer would probably be appalled by the number of touts selling books on the kama sutra or very suggestive key-chains.

The visit of the temples took us a good 3 hours, as we listened carefully to the explanations and took the time to look at the temples.  We then had lunch at Raja's Cafe, which was very conveniently located in front of the temples' entrance and offered a great view over the whole complex. The cafe was clearly popular with tourists, as quite a few were sitting on the terrace when we arrived. The food was quite tasty which explained the cafe's popularity.

We thought about going to the eastern group of temples that afternoon, but finally decided otherwise as the risk of being templed out was pretty high. We thus spent most of the afternoon on the internet. The wifi was not particularly reliable in the hotel so we went to an internet cafe instead. We managed to upload a few posts on the blog and to book hotels for the remaining weeks in India.

In the evening, we went back to Raja's Cafe for dinner and used their wifi. Unfortunately, we arrived slightly after sunset and realised that we would need to arrive earlier the next day, although the twilight view was still beautiful.

Temples at twilight

-----

21st January

On our way to the eastern group of temples, not far from the hotel, we met some kids who lived in the Old Village of Khajuraho, which is just right outside the modern part of the town. They told us that they would be glad to practice their English and accompany us around the temples. This proved really helpful as they knew the way better than us and took us through a few shortcuts. The oldest boy spoke quite good English and was very friendly; he stayed with us through the whole visit, while the other two quickly disappeared.

We passed the large statue of the Hanuman Temple by the road, and arrived at Vamana Temple a few minutes later. The temple was dedicated to the Dwarf incarnation of Vishnu (AD 1050-75). We had a walk around the temple to look at the statues before entering and remaining quite perplexed in front of the Dwarf statue. It was very quiet as there were no other tourists and no touts waiting by the entrance.

Vamana temple

The pot-bellied Dwarf incarnation of Vishnu

On our way to the Jain temples, which were further out of town, we stopped by the smaller Javari Temple just outside the old village. The kid then led us through the Old Village, showing us the Brahman district and his house. The Brahman area's white-washed walls were very bright and clean. Dalits (or Untouchables), as is the custom, lived outside the village. He showed us the fields just outside the village on which his family was growing rice for their private consumption. 

Javari temple

Entrance to Javari temple

Outskirts of the old village

Brahman part of town

Walking through the old town

Dalits' part of the old village

I was surprised by the number of schools around the Old Village. Only one of those schools is public and prices can be quite high for the private ones. We stopped by one of the schools where children of all castes were welcome. Inside, a group of kids were rehearsing dance moves in preparation for Republic Day (celebrating the day on which the Indian Constitution entered into force). 

School   

The Jain temples were inside an enclosure but there was no entrance fee. We started our tour with the largest temple in the enclosure, the Parsvanath Temple, which looked similar to the hindu temples in the western group. It featured very graceful nymphs, and in particular one removing a thorn from her foot. 

Parsvanath temple

Surasundari having a thorn removed from her foot

Inside the Jain temple

Shanti Nath was the newest temple, built a century ago, and it was still active. There were many statues inside, but the 4.5-m high Adinath statue particularly caught my attention. It reminded me of the bigger version that I had seen a few years ago in the South of India; on the way down from that temple, we had met a naked old man (Jain devotee) walking up the stairs to the statue. Apparently, this temple was affiliated to the same sect as we could see photos of naked worshippers on the various brochures scattered around the temple. We were unlucky not to meet any of them that day.

Shanti Nath temple

Inside Shanti Nath

Jain Tirthankara

No naked ascetics wandering around while we were there

It was then time for lunch and we thus walked back towards the modern part of Khajuraho. Our cheerful friend had apparently changed his mind, after reassuring us that he only wanted to practice his English, and asked us for money (to buy books for school). This was not very convincing (and we'd heard that this was a regular scam around there); we prefer to give to charity than to encourage kids to beg or tout on the streets.

We had decided to try the Italian restaurant for lunch, called Mediterraneo. The advertisement on the wall said that the chef had been trained in Rome, which apparently is a sign of quality. The reviews on tripadvisor were very good, so we decided to give it a go despite our skepticism. It was more expensive than other restaurants but the pizza and grilled vegetables that we ordered were tasty, so we did not regret it. Interestingly, the manager asked whether he could take a picture of us. We might appear on the menu, who knows?

We spent the afternoon relaxing, working on the blog, and organising the rest of the trip. We watched the sun set from Blue Sky Cafe, which has the finest view over the temples.  For dinner, we went to a restaurant in front of the hotel called Agrasen, but this was unfortunately not a good choice; only a couple of hours later we were not feeling very well. Thankfully we were not struck down with anything too unpleasant, but this is clearly a place to which I would not dream of returning.

Western temples at dusk

19th January: Encounter with Jaya the tigress

Seeing your first wild tiger is a special experience.  Seeing her from five metres away, from atop an elephant, was truly wonderful.  Maybe it was because the tigress was so beautiful, maybe because tigers are naturally so elusive, or maybe because it was our fourth and final safari and we were starting to accept the likelihood that we would not see one; whatever the reason, it was extraordinarily exhilarating.

The morning did not start promisingly.  The jungle was bathed in a thick fog, and as we drove along the path we could barely make out the spotted deer grazing ten metres from the road, let alone spot an impeccably camouflaged tiger.

Jungle mist

Despite the fog we did have some great moments in the first part of the safari.  In the undergrowth we spotted several majestic peacocks, their imperial blue shining through the mist.  Our arrival prompted them to head slightly further from the road, so Satyendra suggested that we drive another thirty metres down the road to wait for them, as they were doubtless headed for the open ground just beyond that point.  He was absolutely right.  The driver killed the engine and we watched in silence as the peacocks paraded past us, pecking peacefully at the dry grass.

Waiting for the peacocks to come to us

Not so well camouflaged 

More pretty peacocks

We drove on for another half-an-hour or so, past a pair of sambhar deer, some kingfishers, vultures, and an eagle (Satyendra doubtless told us the full name).  After around an hour in the park, we were starting to realise that we would likely leave without seeing a tiger.  As much as I tried to persuade myself that this should not be upsetting, that seeing a tiger is a privilege, not a right, I could not help but feel disappointment looming.

Sambhar and kingfisher

Eagle

Vultures peering across the park

Through the fog we saw another jeep, pulled over to the side of the road.  At first we couldn't see what they were watching, perhaps some deer or birds.  Then I saw the elephant and my first thought, rather stupidly, was that it was strange to see an elephant when there was no quarry nearby.  Then it clicked.  By this point those with brains and eyes rather sharper than mine had spotted it.  Satyendra pointed me past one tree, between two others, and up the hill,  There, its orange camouflage faint amidst the morning mist, we saw our first tiger in the wild.

You can just about make out the blur of orange, slightly below the centre of the photo

For a few minutes the tiger lay still on the hill, watching the elephants trample around below.  Rising smoothly, it padded languidly down the slope towards us.  She (so Satyendra told us, quite rightly) ducked behind a tree, poking her head around the corner before spying an elephant and heading off in the opposite direction, disappearing from view.  We waited several minutes, during which time a convoy of forest department jeeps showed up, making an awful racket.  Unsurprisingly the tigress stayed hidden.  Satyendra explained that she was called Jaya, a young tigress who roamed a fairly large territory after she and her sister had sent their aging mother packing.

Spot the elephant

From the other side of the hill we heard peacocks, probably those we had seen earlier, meowing their alarm call (yes, their cries sound remarkably like cats).  Satyendra decided, since the elephants had clearly lost the tigress for the time being, that we were better off driving around to the other side of the hill, so off we went. We waited there for a while, but there was no sign of her so we continued our tour.  We passed a pair of warthogs snuffling through the grass, and a herd of bachelor stags.  Above the stags were langur monkeys, who very kindly knocked down some fresh green leaves on which one of the stags eagerly munched. We then headed to the mid-safari checkpoint, where we found something to munch on ourselves: a packet of chocolate bourbon biscuits.

Warthogs

Stag trying to look down his nose at us

While at the checkpoint, Satyendra learned that the elephants had managed to find the tigress again, so there was a good chance of an elephant ride to see her.  With the anticipation building, we drove off towards the tigress' latest position.  On the way, we paused very briefly to see an owl (again, we were told the proper name) perched peacefully on a branch, watching the world hurrying past.

Owl

His close-up

We were one of around ten tourist jeeps lined up behind the forestry jeep that was selling tickets to ride the elephant.  Our tigress, however, was still on the move, trying to give the elephants the slip, so soon our convoy was driving off.  We found ourselves directly behind the forestry jeep, and through some nifty slipstream work managed to stay there.  Another couple of times we were on the move, with the full convoy behind us.  At one point we heard that the elephants had lost track of the tigress; our hearts began to sink. But another forestry jeep spotted her, and was able to direct the elephants over.

The jeep convoy (and the queue for elephants, behind us)

Finally, one of the elephants lumbered into view, carrying some very excited Indian tourists.  The elephant deposited them back to their jeep and came over to collect the four of us.  We climbed up onto the saddle, two of us facing off to each side (Clem and Bonnie on the left, Satyendra and I on the right).  Looking down on the other jeeps, we were carried off to the side of the road, lurching step by step past bamboo trees and into the brush.

Elephant on the right, man with the tickets on the left

Our elephant, dropping off the previous incumbents

At first it was tough to spot the tigress through the trees, but with Satyendra's help we could see her moving swiftly but smoothly beneath the trees, around 20 metres away.  Thankfully the undergrowth was not too thick, so we had a good view.  The tigress started to make her way up a small hill, where it would be hard for the elephant to follow.  The elephant-driver (mahout) started to follow her, but Satyendra directed him off to the left, parallel to the tigress, so as to give her more space.  This worked excellently, as the tigress came back down the hill directly towards us,  In no time she was less than 10 metres away, and we had a breathtaking view of her magnificent power and beauty.

She paused, looked around, and moved off through the undergrowth; the elephant shadowed her movements with remarkably nimble feet.  Evidently slightly peeved by our proximity, she gave us a slow, arrogant glare. She then darted forwards, under a tree just a few metres away from us, and as the elephant took a step back she loped off to gain a bit of breathing space.  You can just about see the latter part of her manoeuvre in this video (spot the paw under the tree), and you can hear Satyendra's admiration.  Our hearts were racing.

She then came back towards us, pausing again to fix us with an imperious glare and bare her teeth (perhaps indicating that she was bored and the audience was over).  She then disappeared into the thick bamboo by the side of the road, on the other side of the hill from where we had started.  At this point the forestry jeep came around the corner, and it was time to let someone else experience the magic of being face to face with this Empress of the Indian jungle.

Unfortunately for those who came after us, the tigress stayed where she was, peering out at us from the bamboo. We probably had a better view, having rejoined our jeep, than the tourists mounted on the elephant. I hope for their sake that they had the opportunity to see her move, after we left.

Getting down from Nelly

Yes, you really do have to get down now

Next group

Hiding in the bamboo

For her sake I rather hope that they left her in peace.  That is of course hopelessly hypocritical.  We had enjoyed a fantastic experience, which I would have been loathe to refuse. Clearly, however, this was not so much fun for the tigers, pursued by the elephants and disturbed by the cacophany of noisy jeeps, shrieking tourists, and trampled bamboo.  It's a difficult balance, but one that the park could greatly improve with tighter controls on noise and disturbance.

We drove back to the Tala gate and then to "camp" with the adrenaline still pumping.  We filled in Kay on what we had seen, and downloaded our photos onto Bonnie's computer, since there had been a problem with her camera.  We then had another very filling brunch of cornflakes and parathas (on some of which I sacrilegiously smeared peanut butter and marmite).  We packed up our bags, sad to be leaving but delighted that we'd been lucky enough to see a tiger so close up.  We bade farewell to Satyendra, Kay, Bonnie, and the staff, and hopped into the car for the long drive to Khajuraho.

The drive lasted around six hours.  Thankfully the driver was excellent, and made the journey as smooth as possible, although the quality of the road varied from decent highway to rutted dirt track.  We drove through picturesque scenery of sandstone hills, sodden rice fields, and isolated little villages.  We arrived in Khajuraho at around 8 and were dropped off outside Hotel Surya.  The room looked good, especially for the minimal cost.  We popped next door for a quick bite to eat and went to bed soon after.