A Kutchi summer - Day 2 - snake skins, an empty den and theIndian courser!

Continued from Day 1. My son's narrative continues.....

The next day, I was woken up(again) to go for tea, which I left to the very last moment, in order to get some sleep. Drowsily refreshed after the cup of coffee payasasm (Recipe: Coffee with as much sugar as will dissolve), we set out once again, with the same Jeep mates. This time, I quickly occupied the front seat along with Arun uncle, with whom I ended up chatting with until we reached our first destination. Thankfully we were spared the endless wastelands and were instead taken to a marsh or swampland where there was a largish water body

Said marsh with flamingoes in evidence.

Once again the cameras were out, fighting for supremacy over the length of their lenses. A spotting scope was also in attendance, for those who had the misfortune of not bringing a pair of binoculars. Once again a great many Flamingoes were spotted, and they soon took to the skies, their privacy shattered. I turned back thinking there was nothing else to see, only to hear the naturalists excitedly chattering about some bird, that to my eyes looked like a duck. I gave up all hope of even attempting to identify all the birds in the water body and after seeing the moorhen, purple heron and the shovellers, I went over to the vehicle to sit and watch the bird watchers watch time slip away. I was low on film for my camera, and this added to my discontent.

The same marsh, with the Nikon.

Another water body awaited and so were the many Stilts, egrets, coots and a congregation of cormorants.
Photo by Mr Ramanan. The cormorant congregation.
A cobra had also used the place for a changing room and left behind remnants of its old body.
The snake skin

Suitably sated with birds and creeped out by snake skins, it was decided that we would head home, when suddenly our jeep driver cum guide swerved off the road and onto a miniature plain. Vehicle stopped, he whispered “Indian Courser”. At once, every person in the vehicles was agog, searching for the well-camouflaged courser. For many of us, it was a first spotting, so it was exhilarating. And I, being me, usually would not have bothered, but I feel happy, now that I think back about that moment. Maybe, now I will start paying closer attention to the finer details of bird watching.

(My mom mentioned later that it was a first for her too. We saw a pair and a couple of chicks, which of course she found cute! And oh yes, Suresh uncle tried to stalk behind them, and the more he moved the more they moved away, in a kind of scurrying manner! We didn't get any picture of the coursers.)

A breakfast to suit our joy awaited us and nobody held back from gorging. The usual pre-lunch naps took place, this time along with people washing clothes. In the Kutchi atmosphere of less than 0 humidity, the clothes dried within a half hour. Lunch eaten, a spurt of post lunch packing took place, with washed clothes being neatly, or otherwise, put away. My mother, suitably surprised that I was washing my clothes, quickly put out her own clothes after washing.

See the clothes drying besides the room!

A Shikra in the tree that I spied close to our room

The pre-evening ride tea break was slightly subdued, with an assortment of members wanting to bunk. In the end, as the jeeps were getting filled, the very same members who had expressed an aversion to coming on the evening ride ended up climbing in themselves. The evening ride, sadly, saw us back on the dusty Rann. The same asses greeted us again and nothing new of interest seemed to pop up. What a strange habitat indeed!

Wild ass again!

One by one, all the jeeps had starting problems, easily enough rectified. We visited an active saltpan, teeming with birds even though the water was nowhere near potable. After a while, the jeeps and the "elephant" united at what was supposedly a fox’s dugout.
An abandoned fox den. Or was it inside, waiting for us to leave? The previous day, we had seen a momma fox and baby in the distance near a bund, and the mother scooted off, while the bay vanished down a similar hole. My mother's jeep waited patiently for a while, but it never poked its head out.
Disgusted at its absence, we all headed back to our safe base at Dasada to get ready for another train journey to Gir. On the way, we stopped to collect salt crystals that had fallen off the salt lorries and to photograph an owlet, safely ensconced on a cable.

The owl as seen by our "kutty" Lumix. Fading evening light.


The very same owlet. Photo by Mr Ramanan

A short while from this owl, all vehicles pulled over, no reasons given. Then the "elephant", which was usually at the front, showed up. ‘Clutch problems’ it seemed. So the gearbox was opened up, and the drivers, not ones for subtlety, starting whacking away at it with a hammer!

Needless to say, those who had studied engineering were shocked at this cavalier approach to the gear system. The drivers didn’t seem to care, though and they had the problem soon resolved actually!

When we returned, an anxious Vikas, who had dozed off and not woken up in time for the ride, wanted to know if we had seen anything interesting. Our somewhat lukewarm 'no's seemed to cheer him up, though.

At the resort, dinner and another journey awaited us, though these were looked forward to, since Gir and the lions was sounding very promising compared to the vastness and emptiness of LRK. After dinner, we all stuffed our bags into the back of a bus and hopped in ourselves for the ride to Viramgam station, where we were to catch our train to Veraval, the train stop for Gir. At Viramgam, I hopefully looked around for a shop selling film rolls, but all I found was a jielbiwallah and another selling paan and Coke! Oh well! Ration out the one remaining roll for the lions I suppose.

That very same night, our very own CSK were playing Pune and Vijay uncle wrote CSK off saying that Pune would thrash us. This was playing on all the CSK fans' minds as they nervously checked for updates on the phones that had internet. Finally, the train arrived and we boarded. Mummy, Ramanan sir and his family and Me were in the same enclosure, which lent a slight sense of relief that we had at least another set of fellow MNSians for company. The ticket collector came by, vastly amused, as he had gone from compartment to compartment, and all the tickets he was checking at Viramgam seemed to be Madrasis going to Veraval!!

Listening to the trains rattling along, I dozed off to the thought of another long day.


Day 3: On to Sasan Gir!