Yellow rain lilies make a beautiful sight!

A sight for tired urban eyes, definitely!

One day, there is just green grass, and the next day,
you are greeted by a sight like this!

The Whistling Thrush Bungalow at Nelliyampathy

The Bungalow

Now, that's what I call a name! So intrigued was I with the images of this little bungalow, tucked away in a sleepy hill town, surrounded by woods, birds, meadows and fresh air, that I dragged my unsuspecting husband and son to the hamlet of Nelliyampathy in Kerala and on to the Whistling Thrush Bungalow!

This is not recent, its another 2006 story, but I'm bored with work, the weather outside is conducive to story-telling, and so the regurgitation.

Getting there

Nelliyampathy is a Kerala hill station, a plantation town really, with coffee and cardamom plantations. We took the train to Coimbatore, though Palakkad would've been closer. We were picked up there by a cab, accompanied by the estate manager Mr Subramaniam Pillai, a serious gent - more about him later, though. Anyway, the driver Razzak was quite a speedking, and we all studiously looked out through the side windows!

From Coimbatore to Palakkad was about 45 mins, then without getting into the city, we drove straight on via Kodayur, Nemmara to Nelliyampathy. The hill drive was about an hour, from the Pothundy dam, which was very scenic, and Japanese-like.
Vistas on the way up

Pothundy dam

The hill road was pretty dicey, with most places only allowing a single vehicle, though the PWD was at work trying to broaden it. (I wonder if its been done now.) We saw one vehicle in the ravine below ... pretty hairy. Anyway, in the hills, Mr Razzak drove more cautiously, while giving us a cheerful commentary on all the various kinds of accidents seen along the way!!

I think the local Keralite has a penchant for the gory, and recount such stories with great relish!

The Bungalow is named after the Malabar whistling thrush, not a very impressive looking bird, very shy, but with a lovely call that makes you go looking for it. When we visited, the staff included Justin the cook, Vishalu the housekeeper and Sunil, our guide on walks. All would rattle off in Malayalam, while we grinned idiotically not having understood a word of what they said. We occupied one room, which had an attached bath, with running hot and cold water, a clean double bed, large windows which looked out into the garden. We also had use of the sitting room, a verandah, and our meals were in the dining room.







The garden of the bungalow had lovely crotons, flowers and a little enclosed lawn, where my son practised his diving catches and many a mini cricket match took place in our stay.

A grey wagtail would come every morning while we had coffee and rummage on the lawn for its breakfast, its tail furiously bobbing up and down. The bungalow was in the midst of a coffee and cardamom plantation, and tree pies, malabar parakeets and langurs would make a racket all through the day.








Workers were busy with cardamom harvesting as well. The pods are found at the base of the plant, and the workers have to root among the thick undergrowth to get at them. The humidity of the pantation makes if a happy hunting ground (quite literally) for leeches. The red berries of the coffee vines also looked ready for picking.

Above in the trees, a paper wasp colony had built a nest. When we looked at the nest through our binoculars, we could see the hive teeming with the wasps, which convert dead wood into these hives, mixing the material with their saliva.

Uh oh, leeches!
Morning came and Sunil decided to take us for a walk of the estate. He made us apply a mixture of tobacco and coconut oil and dettol on our legs, to keep the leeches away. My husband, like a hero decided not to use this, and on his son's advice they both tucked their pants into their socks and felt very safe from the leeches!! (For your information, Sunil was in a lungi hitched up over his knees, so bare legs and chappals!! Claimed he had used dettol.)

So we set out through the plantation, looking around and enjoying the amazing variety in shades of green. A mushroom-laden log lay by the side of the track, and down below we could see a little stream, through the trees of the plantation.



At this point, I happenned to look down at my shoes and let out a yelp - my shoes were crawling with leeches. And so were husband's and son's - and not one on the bared legs of Mr Sunil! Anyway, he calmly flicked them off us, even took a few and carefully put them away among the leaves in the undergrowth. I thought to myself this is the height of environental friendliness, I mean why doesnt he just kill them off? Only later did I realise that they cant be killed off by stepping on - I did try it - or bashing them! They need to be drowned in salt! My first encounter with these creatures.

I must say our ten year old son took all this with great equanimity, saying how he had already been through this in Coorg! After that, the walk was never the same - nervously looking at our shoes every now and then, and the husband urging us to move on and not stop and stare.

So we quickly went past the waterfall, where 2 men were bathing in their chaddis, while the wives looked on very unimpressed, up to the cardamom curing unit - where we got some respite because it was all bricked up and leeches dont like bricks you see. Then up to the top of the little waterfall, and onto the check dam.







Sunil then decided to bring us back through the wilder part of the estate, and we literally ran back, as the undergrowth was just crawling with leeches!! To further my belief about the locals sense of gore, Vishalu proceeded to tell us about how the plantation workers get bitten by leeches near the eyes, on the head, etc. Anyway what a way to earn a living, its no wonder they're having labour scarcity. I shall respect the yelakkai much more from now.

On our return to the bungalow, we all removed our shoes, which were crawling with leeches, Sunil calmly comes by with some salt that he puts on the ground, adds some water, and then one by one puts the leeches in it. Can you believe they were dead in less than 10 seconds? Inspite of all this drama, my son and I escaped unbitten, but husband, who had refused to put repellant did have a bite, and was given a lecture by Sunil. I must say, my good stoic husband did not enjoy it in the least, and declined all further invitations out of the estate!! Our son "comforted" him, and said dont worry daddy, it will stop bleeding (leeches inject some anti-coagulant so the wound bleeds more than a regular hurt).

Hungry after our walk, Justin and Vishalu gave us a sumptuous lunch. Post lunch,
I did go off, smeared with repellant to do some birdwatching - identified atleast 20 species I had never seen before - some really spectacular ones. It was all quite thrilling as my husband had just acquired a new Nikon binocular, which opened our eyes to the world of birds. Small minivets, white-cheeked barbets, racket-tailed drongoes, Malabar parakeets and bank mynahs and tree pies were in plenty. I did have one sighting of the whistling thrush, and a yellow-browed bulbul.

The brave men of my family stayed put in the house and its garden, only coming out for a jeep ride to some view points the next day. There's a place called Sitalakundu, which is like Coakers Walk in Kodai, spectacular views.


Then Sunil proceeded to give us graphic accounts of the various people who've fallen off the cliff! See, what I did tell you!

Mr Pillai saw no humour in our situation, and was rather indignant at our dislike of them leeches. I think he'll make a good president for the Society of Leech Lovers, or a Save the Leech Foundation or some such. For my anti-leech views, I earned a lecture on how leeches only suck the bad blood, are used for traditional medicine, dont pass on anything contagious, etc etc. If you have the stomach for this kind of thing, maybe you should watch Extreme Healing: Leeches in India from National Geographic. My son is fascinated with the clip and watches it over and over again!










While the leech was the primary "adventure", we city slickers also faced a stormy night, without power, and the winds howling through the estate trees. I was glad when morning came, and brought with it some respite from the rain.

The large malabar squirrels also came out, and their call pulled us into the garden.  Lovely, brown coats with a lighter coloured belly, we were lucky to spot a pair of them as they went from tree to tree above us.

Soon, it was time to leave. Our driver going downhill was quite the opposite of Mr Razzak, and we cautiously wound our way down to the plains, reaching Palakkad where there was no power, the roads were full of potholes, and the station had its familiar stench. Armed with freshly fried nendram and tapioca chips, we returned to Madras.

Of course, the veteran MNS members listened in amusement to our first encounter with leeches, having been there done that. And though the whistling thrush bird was a bit of a let down for me, the whole trip, the bungalow and the staff and the mountain terrain of Kerala will draw me back I'm sure.

Penchalakona falls in the monsoon

October 2007:

When MNS announced a trip to Penchalakona, I was totally clueless, never having heard of the place. With descriptions of waterfall, dense forest and good birding, I was enticed, dragged my husband along, and set off with fourteen other members of the MNS.

Dates were chosen with great thought. A weekend in October, after the rains was thought to be ideal, since the waterfall - which is not perennial - would have water.

After reading this write-up in the MNS bulletin, I was all excited:

"The proposed itinerary:

October 27 2007—Drive to Kandaleru dam, birding in the scrub jungles. After lunch leave for Penchalakona. Bird watching on the outskirts of the Temple village Watch for the full moon rising over the hills. Look for nightjars and owls. Next day trek to waterfalls and the hills. Look for the Yellow throated Bulbuls.

On Oct 28,2007—leave for Somasila dam after breakfast. Leave for Chennai in the evening.
The Penisula Narasimha Swamy Sanctuary is placed between two important passes Badvel–Nellore road and Kadapa–Rajampet road. The velligonda hill range of lush green luxuriant forests interrupted with hillocks of igneous rocks is a paradise for the rich and variegated life forms of animals and plants. The sanctuary is connected by two water bodies—Somasila and Kandaleru.
The flora is Dry evergreen forest type with species like Acacia sp, Cassia sp, Pongamia sp, Carissa sp, etc. Other trees that can be seen include Mangifera indica (mango), Syzigium cumini (jamun), Mahua, Pterocarpus marsupium (Indian Kino), Gloriosa superba (Glory Lily), Cochlospermum religiosum (Yellow silk cotton), Red sanders.
Birds that can be seen here include Rose Ringed Parakeet, White Eye, Pied kingfisher, Pied crested cuckoo, Open-billed Stork, Black-winged stilt, White-bellied drongo, Ashy drongo, Bronzed drongo, Black-headed oriole, Yellow throated bulbul.,Shama.
Other fauna reported include Leopard, Wild dog, Wolf, Sloth Bear, Chinkaara, Black buck, Slender Loris, Giant Indian Squirell. Marbled frog, Burrowing frog, common toad, common brown vine snake, common krait, Starred tortoise."

So, we set off by the Vijaywada-bound Jan Shatabdi for Gudur, and I was pleasantly surprised by the train, its seats and the concept of the Jan Shatabdi.

Cloudy skies, and light drizzle as well as the occasional heavy downpour accompanied us throughout our trip, and ths reduced the birding, but then we enjoyed the waterfall as a result.

Playing with crap on the Gudur tank bund!

Sorry, but that's what they do. The dung beetles I mean. Spend their lives playing with dung. These particular two were spied on the Gudur tank bund. It must have been paradise for them - the place was full of cattle and goat dung.

Scarabaeoidea - try saying that! Well that's their official name. I think I'll stick with DB.

So there we were standing on the tank bund looking for water birds, when I spied these two near my feet. I stared in fascination at the teamwork between the two, as they rolled dung to somewhere. So these then are the "rollers". Rolling dung to their nests. One male and one female? Could be. Female DBs are smart. They allow the guys to roll, and just go along for the ride!

Supposedly, there are also "tunnellers" who immediately tunnel and bury the dung when they find it. Then there are also "dwellers" who just luxuriate and live in it. YUK! I said to myself, when I read this They must really have some bad karma!

They are also picky, I discovered. Yes, please to dung of herbivores, and no thank you to dung from omnivores! Amazing isnt it, the food preferences of some people!

I had to admit that these creatures are useful. they put away the dung, clean up the place you know, and convert the dung into something useful in the process. So next time you find a lot of crap - from a herbivore - around, dont wrinkle your nose, but look for that DB.

And if you are in the jungle, look for the Elephant DB - the largest of its kind. Honest! Dont believe me? See for yourself -

From Gudur, we set off by road to Kandaleru. By now, a drizzle had set in and the sky was completely overcast and there was a dull light. While we were on the highway, the road was like a dream and we made good time. But once we got off the highway, we really had a bumpy ride. Since I was in the rear of the Qualis, every bump was experienced and all the breakfast had in Gudur was quickly digested!

Kandaleru

The earthen dam that enclosed the reservoir, has created a water body that stretched from horizon to horizon, filled by the current monsoon rains. It was a spectacular sight, and also reassuring for us Chennaiites, since it is an important water source for the city.

It was rainy and windy, and there was no prospects for birding, but we hung around just taking in the sight and envying the dam officials who had a lovely bungalow perched up on a hillock, overlooking the reservoir. We wandered down to the banks, which was ringed by scrub.

Suddenly, the rain stopped and there was a slight lifting of the clouds, and then the birds were back!

My favourites were The White-browed fantail flycatcher and the Pied Kingfisher.

The B&W copter

Or that's what I called the Pied Kingfisher.
I had a lovely display of this bird, famous for its ability to hover. Suddenly there was this little black & white fellow, in the air above us, on the banks of the reservoir, with a rather prominent bill. “Pied kingfisher!” an excited stage whisper to Sekar.

I was so delighted. He actually “stood on his tail”, as Salim Ali describes, before swooping down to the water, and then taking off with a cry.

After a huge lunch, we drove on to Penchalakona.

Penchalakona

On approaching, we had a grand view of the falls from the road, near the entrance to the Karunamayi ashram.
Click on the picture and enjoy a full screen view
We lingered here for a while drinking in the view, and wondering about this mysterious ashram (more on that later!) before moving on, into the "town" of Penchalakona. The high street consisted of the Narasimhaswamy temple, three roadside tiffin and meal shops and another three souvenir shops, selling a complete range of made-in-China bric-a-brac.

Herds of cows loitered around the temple, but what was most depressing was the plastic strewn across the roads and the fields. With the drizzle, the cow dung, plastic litter and the fruit droppings from the ficus tree combined to make a most unpleasant mess!

Accommodation was in the private choultries near the temple. Now, there were 2 such choultries facing each other, across the road. One was more "up-market" supposedly, while the other was "economy". What I found most interesting was that the Deluxe one was full, while we got acco in the economy one!!

After settling in to the accommodation, we went for a short walk to explore the territory. We found the lovely stream flowing through the town.

As we climbed up a stony path beside the river, we had a lovely view of the falls itself as well as the mountains around, which were dense with scrub jungle, looking green and washed in the rains. We resolved to explore the stream the next morning, as the light was fading.

The spooky ashram in Penchalakona

5:30 pm.
We strolled across to this HUGE, incongruous set of buildings in the middle of the forest area, away from the temple.

We were informed that this was the ashram of Mata Karunamayi, of worlwide fame. Much intrigued, we walked in (after paying a Re 2 entry fee I was told).

The "ashram" had electric wired fences and security cameras staring at us....
Deja vu
"You can check out anytime, but you can never leave
Welcome to the Hotel California!"

Huge statues, a water garden, a bhakta cleaning a room. Lights going off in a meditation room. An edifice built for amma to give darshan.
I wanted to leave in a hurry.

Amma was giving a lecture and darshan in one of the halls. Some of the more curious types decided to go in. The rest of us hung around. Sullen security guards looked at us suspiciously.

A gent strides up and asks where we are from. He's amma's brother. (Business manager?) Talks about the fame of amma - spread far and wide - Atlanta branch - devotees from all over- homams everyday -rooms available - surya namaskarams in the morning - meditation room for spiritual upliftment.

By this time, those who sought darshan have returned agog with excitement. Each with sundal in hand, which was prasadam - very tasty.
"She gave it to us personally"
What did she say, I asked. Oh I dont know, replied one. She read from notes. (What???)

I was completely bemused - you mean people actually fall for this stuff? Here she is, talking about love, brotherhood and sharing, ON FOREST DEPARTMENT LAND? Surreal, clean premises. Poverty and filth outside.
A cocoon of nonsense.

I had had enough. Scooted out into the real world. Aah what a relief to be back in the dirt of Penchalakona town.

Dinner was at one of the three tiffin shops. Raja decided to try his rather meagre Telegu on those who ran the shop, making the owner's daughter giggle with his "ledhus". Can you imagine going into a town like this and asking for oil ledhu dosais?! That's optimism for you, from Raja!

Post-dinner discussions on the ashram went on long and late, with many a spooky story being related by Vijay and Sudhakar of other such experiences! Sheila and I concluded that religion was a good business model these days!

Sunday 28th morning: We set off on our walk upstream, to locate the plunge pool of the falls. With thick undergrowth on either bank, we had to wade upstream for the most part, and after a couple of bends, we left behind traces of the town. I walked with my shoes as I thought it was better to have wet shoes rather than torn soles! A wise decision it was!

It was a rewarding and fulfilling walk, as we clambered over boulders, waded through clear, cool water, ducked under a thin waterfall, while all the time the roar of the falls got louder. With a thin drizzle overhead, there was hardly any birdcall on this walk.
We reached the plunge pool after a while and it was well worth the trouble, to see the water thundering down into the pool and rising in a mist and spray to drench us all. Some of the men “plunged” into the pool, but I didn't take my camera out, as it was raining quite heavily now. The local guide looked worried that the river bed would be unpassable soon.


So, we hurried back, only to find the rain stop when we reached the lower levels! But this meant that we were rewarded with bird activity. Suddenly, the forest was alive with sound, and the members had a good half an hour of sightings – woodpeckers, oriole, sunbirds, babblers and parakeets.

After breakfast, we went for a walk in the scrub jungle around, along with the rain, and saw Acacia, Cassia, Glory Lily and red sanders. Mr Ramakrishna remarked that this was a non-thorny scrub jungle, which is somewhat unusual. There were good specimens of ant nests in the leaves of a mango tree as well.

The Yellow throated bulbul and Shama remained elusive.

After lunch, we proceeded to the Somasila dam, where again the water was full.
The second batch of visitors – Mr Ramachandrandan, Mr Mrityunjay Rao and Mr Ramakrishna – saw all the gates being opened, and water gushing out at great force. They also saw the Penchalakona falls in greater strength, since they stayed an additional night, and therefore caught sight of the falls fed with more rain.

The stream was also full, and so there was no way we could have waded up, the next day.

From Somasila, we continued on to Gudur station, to catch our train back. By now, it was raining hard and the roads through the villages were in a complete mess. Progress was slow, and our initial good cheer slowly changed to mild anxiety about the speed we were travelling at. Anxiety then changed to panic, when we reached a closed railway crossing, and were helplessly stuck.

Our driver made a few calls on his cellphone and then announced that we were not to worry, as the train was running late. Finally, the railway crossing opened and then we were back on the highway! We could see the lights of Gudur in the distance, and we arrived at the station to see our train on the platform already! Yells of "Hurry, hurry!", "Grab your bags", "Move It!", came from the two Qualises as we clambered out. A couple of the travellers had no tickets as yet, but they dashed madly to the counter and did board. Sheila had forgotten her umbrellas in the van! Hats off to Vijay and Sudhakar for ensuring that we all got on, the drivers were phoned and thanked and umbrellas were to follow with Mr Ramakrishna!

All this excitement, made us rather giggly as we settled into our seats.

Flushing snacktrays!

This rather interesting set of instructions to operate the snack tray caught our eye on our return. I never did think it was rocket science to open the tray, but the Railways is obviously not taking any chances.

Given that we had a two hour ride, no reading material with us, and not even a portable DVD player (like our fellow passengers), we occupied ourselves in trying to follow the instructions.
To Open
1. We couldn't "pull the knob" as we were instructed - it just moved left or right like any regular holder.
2. There was no instruction to hold the tray while doing step 1. so the tray banged down on us. So that meant that Step 2 also did not work.

Now we had it open anyway, and very happy too. So we decided to check out the "To Close" instructions.
To our consternation, it was on the underside. What to do? Teamwork was needed. Sekar kept his tray shut, and Raji and I read off his instructions.
Step 1 - that was easy - we just had to hold the tray.
2. Lift it up (yeah, that's fine), and flush it with seat backrest. What?! Raji says," Ay, where's the flush ya?" At that point, the Railways lost us....

While we rolled around in laughter, Sekar says, "Dont laugh, read the warnings in red!"

Oh come on, IR, Indians are smarter than this dont you think?

The hilarity didnt stop there. We reached Basin Bridge on time, and all set to get off shortly, when the train decided to halt there for half an hour or more. When we get the go-ahead to proceed to Central, the display board in the coach lights up.

We are informed that "You are now approaching the centre of your destination. You are travelling at 5.36 kmph." Oh wow, we are all impressed. Of course, the effect had to be spoilt. We ground to a halt, and the board pipes up again, "You have reached your destination. You are travelling at 10.42 kmph."

Since the entire coach was jobless, there was a roar of laughter, with Raja's booming voice leading the pack. I think all our fellow passengers thought we we rather "high spirited"... more light headed I think!

Getting off and further adventures awaited us. It was now POURING! The station was leaking in several places and as we reached the cab stand, there was not a soul in sight. Wading in knee-deep water, we got an omni who for the risk of taking us wanted to be rewarded with Rs 500 for a rip that normally takes Rs 100! We bundled in - there were 6 of us and our bags - and we got home!

So, we lucked out on our trip. A day earlier and we would nt have seen the falls as strong as we did, and a day later and we would have been stuck in Gudur, as the depression strengthened and Madras shut down!

Pelicans up close at Nelapattu

My first live encounter with a pelican was on a visit to the Jurong Bird Park, in Singapore. My son was littler then, (literally!), probably around 4 ft, and completely enthralled by the feathered friends on view. We were walking along the path near Pelican Cove, and he was chattering away with us, blissfully unaware that following just behind him on the path was a pelican, walking with a deliberate, serious gait. My son happened to turn around, and was startled out of his skin to be eyeballing a pelican. This fellow studied my son with a deliberate air, dismissed him as not worthy of further interaction and then shuffled on up the path, with an air of an academic don ruminating his latest theory.

Then came Finding Nemo, and that delightful animation from Disney of a pelican, its large beak and inquisitive personality.

I always thought of them as these exotic birds that one finds in far-away lands. How ignorant I was. Our chance visit to Nelapattu - just 100 kms away from Madras - and there they were, nesting, socialising and living in a pelicanry. No, they were not migrants from somewhere else, they are there all year long, using the Barringtonia tree tops in the tank as nesting places. Not one or two but hundreds! These are the spot-billed pelicans, common in Asia.

Since then, I've seen them many a time, and am always fascinated by these large birds, each of which seems like quite a character. There was once this solitary, pensive pelican we came across in the waters of Pulicat, who really looked like he was in need of cheering up.

Another one flew by our boat, with a rather busy, dont-bother-me look, and what looked like a bill-full of fish.

Then there was this harassed looking mama pelican trying to calm her testy little ones, as she opened her beak to them. They create quite a combined racket, these birds, and as you approach, it reminds one of a school building where the hum of hundreds of kids carries across the air.

My favourite so far has been this young show off we saw on our last visit. As we watched from the boundaries of the lake, he came gliding down into the water. He came paddling by (they are good swimmers, with duck-like webbed feet), posing for all the shutterbugs, first left profile, then right, straight one now, ok now my beak with the spots, want to see my feathers?, alright that's enough, I have to go now!





A trip to Nelapattu is always rewarding because of these birds, and I could spend hours watching them as they go about their daily routines.

Getting to Nelapattu

Its not difficult to get to. The first time, we took a morning passenger to Gummidipoondi, then changed trains to Doravarichatram, from where its a short, dusty walk to the lake. This last time, we just drove down, lovely highway all the way once you leave the city. Driving down gives you the option of visiting both Pulicat and Nelapattu in a day. That way you can take in the graceful flamingoes and lovely painted storks in Pulicat (they require a separate essay) and then see the pelicans and Ibis and Open-billed storks in Nelapattu.

The hoopoe in the tree

One quiet afternoon a few weeks ago, I looked out of my bedroom window to see a hoopoe sitting on the Millingtonia tree, and surveying his immediate environment. (Now I dont know for sure if it was a he or a she, since they both look alike, but since he had the cocky air quite typical of the male species in general, I assumed he was male!) Was he looking for a mate, a nesting site? Hoopoes nest between February and May, in tree hollows. Nowadays though, gaps between roof tiles will do nicely thank you.

I hurried off to get my little Sony Cybershot, and my binoculars to capture the moment. So, while the picture is not great, I did get a long, uninterrupted look-see through my binos. What an interesting plumage. Fawn coloured, and then the feathers on the back and wings have this zebra-like stripes. It also has a crest, which stayed folded back, all the time I was watching it. But it opens up the crest, like a fan every now and then. If you want to see a hoopoe with its crest open, click here.

As I looked, the hoopoe turned around and fixed me with a hard, long stare, its eyes glinting in the sun, and its long curved bill reminding me of a narrow scimitar. It is supposed to use its bill like forceps, to pick up worms and grubs, from the soil. Rather elegant and sophisticated dont you think?!

It then let out a soft call, which was a lovely, musical one, travelling in the breeze to me. Salim Ali describes the call as a "hoo-po, hoo-po", which it really did!

After a while, the hoopoe left, in a flash of black and white, and I was just left with the memory.... and the picture.

Mamandur - Bungalow on the hill

One of my early sorties with MNS, in March 2006.

March 24th

After much agonising about should we/shouldn’t we, Sheila and I finally decided to take the car, with a driver, and set off for Mamandur on Friday afternoon, from Madras. We were joining a group of Madras Naturalist Society, MNS members on a birdwatching trip.

Greenhorns in the world of birding, we were very excited about this trip of ours.

Getting there

Mamandur is a small village, north of Renigunta, about 150 kms from Madras. Our driver Kalyansundaram was very familiar with the route, as it is the same one as the Tirupathi highway. So from Poonamalee, we went via Tiruvallur, Nagari and Putur, on a decent highway, winding though green paddy fields as well as miles of sunflower.

On reaching Renigunta, we had to take the Cudappah highway, a beautiful road, parallel to the railway line, and in 15kms, we had reached the village of Mamandur in Andhra Pradesh.

Stopping at the bus stand, to get directions to the forest bungalow, we came across a Getz with Mr Ramachandran and Gopal, also looking for directions. Taking the turn off to the east, our excitement mounted as we caught glimpses of the bungalow up on the hill. In a matter of minutes, all of a sudden we could hear bird call and the rustling of trees, and the din of the highway was muted and remote.

After a three and a half hour ride, we arrived at the quaint Mamandur bungalow. The bungalow forms part of the backdrop of Kenneth Anderson’s “Mamandur Man eater”, and to our very pleasant surprise, looked more or less the same. (Of course, in their efforts to maintain and upkeep the place, there were now ceramic tiles on the floors, and colour TVs with a DTH connection in all the three rooms!)

The bungalow faces south. To the east, is scrub forest, with fire lines, and further east a ridge that blocks out the horizon. To the immediate west is the Mamandur village, the highway and the railway line, and then the main forest of the S Venkatewara sanctuary.

Our first venture into the forest

Soon the SUV with the rest of the members trundled in, and after a round of introductions, room allocations and making arrangements for dinner, a jeep ride through the forest was suggested.

It was already sundown when we set off. Gopal volunteered to take the Getz, as we all would not have fitted into the SUV. So we set off for the western part of the SV protected sanctuary, crossing the railway line.

A wonderfully, dark and thrilling experience, but not an animal did we sight! A couple of nightjars thankfully posed for us, caught in the beam of a floodlight that the guide had brought along. A thick scrub forest, with large bamboo groves and red sanders, as we went in, the forest crowded around us, and the Getz found the going tough.

The night sky was amazing, with Orion resplendent, as also the Pleiades. Jayshankar brought back a Glowworm.

Back to the bungalow, dinner and jungle stories under the stars, the screech of Spotted Owlets in the trees, while some of the men set off for a jungle walk, with the guide.

March 25th

Woken up with thimblefuls of tea at 5-30, the morning air was cool, and the view of the forest below us was beautiful. The sun had not yet emerged over the ridge, and there was a misty haze over the forest, as bird call floated up to us.

As we set off west, we were introduced to White bellied Minivets, even before we reached the village. They were arguably one of the most common birds of Mamandur.

As we reached the village, the screeches of rose-ringed parakeets greeted us, and I was amazed to get a close glimpse of one of them sitting and fastidiously eating a fruit. She stared at me, and I was almost ready to hear her hurl insults at me (like one of the pirate parrots in a Tintin comic)! But she only took off after a screech of disapproval.

We crossed the Mamandur station and made our way into the forest - various sights and sounds – bear droppings, lion ant mounds, wild gooseberry….

I missed a lot of the birds that the "pros" saw, as I was not as quick. So I missed the red-collared dove, and the laughing dove and a barbet, and several others, whose calls were being identified fast and furious. As we walked through the underbrush, I could hear the birds and see them darting about, but I was not quick enough to spot them with my binoculars, and so get a better view.

We reached a clearing in the forest just as I started to despair. My luck changed! There on a tree trunk, with the sun catching their golden backs was a pair of Greater Flamebacks. Though I had seen these birds earlier, in Madras, it was quite something else spotting them in the forest. They pecked their way up and down the tree trunk, and their backs shimmered in the sun. Others pointed out a Blue-winged leafbird and a Black-hooded oriole, both so spectacularly colourful that I was gasping in wonder. A Black Drongo flew by and perched on a tree.

The best was still to come. We were shushed to silence by the members ahead. There was a flash of rust as a bird flashed by. Paradise flycatcher was the whispered identification. It had vanished. After a few more yards in silence, we saw it again! There it sat on a low branch with its brown, long tail hanging down – the Asian Paradise Flycatcher, a rufous male.

Then, a male breeding Common Iora was spotted high in the trees. A black-and-white Oriental Magpie Robin was very busy in the branches. Jungle Mynas and Indian Robins were spied, as also an Ashy Wood Swallow.

Our guide led us to a small rivulet with water streaming down a rock. During the rains, the whole rock face would support a gushing fall, but right now, it was down to a stream, and a pool of water, with fishes in it. The pool is used by forest workers and visitors for fresh water, and to rest a while.

We made our way back by a different fireline, further north. By now the sun was beating down and we were all hot and tired. The way back brought some spectacular views of the forest from above. We returned to the bungalow for a hearty breakfast, a most welcome bath and lazing in the verandah, with everyone taking short snoozes. Behind the dining pergola, on the trees surrounding the bungalow, I saw a small green bird, with a long slightly curved beak – a green bee eater.

The afternoon was spent in the eastern pergola, where idle talk was interrupted by the call of birds, sudden brilliant blue in the sky and then the only bird of prey I saw on our trip.
The brilliant blue was accompanied by a spectacular roll and a raucous cry – the Indian roller bird. The male bird has quite an elaborate courtship performance that includes a roll and somersault in flight! We even saw the tree in which the pair had made their nest.

For a fleeting moment a bird of prey circled above – was it a kite?

Evening came, and we headed out to the forests again, taking the vehicle up to the start of the forest, and then tramping through, with the hope of seeing some deer. I guess there were too many of us, and just the sound of our feet on the leafy forest floor was enough to scare anything away.

Out in the west, we saw some forest fires raging, possibly man-made by villagers, and several MNS members went and stamped out quite a few. We sat on a rocky outcrop in a clearing, waiting for dusk. As the sun set, a nightjar circled overhead, calling in anxiety. Were we sitting close to its nest?

As the stars appeared, our guide began the walk back. An alarm call went out through the forest, and there was excitement that maybe we would see some wildlife. I was quite nervous – with every sound being amplified, and rustling leaves all around! We caught the eyes of deer in the spotlight that the guide carried, but little else.

But the nightwalk is an experience in itself. As a city dweller, I realised how far removed from natural survival skills I was. I can cross a crowded city street, navigate unknown areas, and take safety precautions in the city, but out here in the forest, I was most ill equipped. If I was lost, would I survive the night?? Rather dramatic thoughts, which I felt sheepish about once we left the forest, and were on the highway!

March 26th

While a jeepload of members headed out for a jungle drive, four of us decided to explore the smaller eastern forest, just below the lodge. It was a lovely morning walk. Dew dripped from bamboo groves, and the sun came through in shafts of light, cobwebs glistened and anthills stood tall. I wished we could muffle the crunch of our footsteps, and mute the electronic sounds of our cameras, to enjoy the quiet. Suddenly up ahead a group of five deer darted across the fireline, and vanished in the blink of an eye.

I marvelled at all the flowering trees, wildflowers; The guide pointed out leopard droppings on the forest floor. We reached a river bed, which was now a rivulet. In the monsoon of 2005, the water had obviously overflowed the banks, as we could see a watermark high up on the neighbouring trees. The rounded river stones were in an amazing variety of colours.

We wandered back after a couple of hours. Then began our preparations to return back to Madras. A most satisfying three days!