Valparai Vattaparai - By Anushual as Usual

August has always been a month where ive always explored the tug of wander-lust – in this case, more specifically the call of the wild. Somehow I always felt traveling during the heart of monsoon season in south-west peninsular India was to be avoided at all costs.

Im happy to say that this was a risk worth taking.What started as a trip for 3 friends turned out to be an adventure of sorts with family!

Ironically, I chose – let me put it this way – I HAD my choice of way as far as location was concerned. Since I was quite fascinated with the as-yet unspoilt beauty of Valparai so lovingly captured by the Sun TV neenga keta padal forays). One must understand that to see such a place, it’s the journey that counts & not the destination.

But we didn’t really start our trip from this picturesque little hamlet…

‘Viewing gallery’ proudly proclaimed the hand-painted sign just outside the arrivals terminal at Coimbatore airport. With a wry grin I acknowledged the truth of the ‘South Indian Stare Syndrome’ – henceforth referred to as SISS.The SISS is a disease found in members of the male species of the said race. The SISS syndrome is not within the scope of this write-up – neither it is localized to any particular geography as the name suggests – many odes have been written about it. Some I know even keep count of it!

We started off our Coimbatore chapter with Marudhamalai – I agreed to visit ‘Murugan only’ temples by the way. Why I like him is again beyond the scope of this chapter. But then I never feel the need to justify my strong likes – or dislikes - to anyone.
A nicely maintained temple – over-run by hawkers & tin-pot commercialisation as is any relatively famous temple in India.

We then set off for Isha Yoga centre – I can see that those familiar with my personality are already raising their eyebrows in disbelief. But I must say the scenic setting of the place was breath-taking. We did get a jolt of fright when we saw some extremely life-like metal snakes pouting their hoods at us from the ceiling.
I will gloss over this bit as there are only a few images that stand out..that of wet women of assorted sizes & shapes converging together like an army of bees on a single flower (the lingam). And same goes for the men. And the sight of a woman going into trance while jerking and contracting rhythmically...while we watched her in part-fear, part-fascination, but mostly suppressed laughter.
We set off for Valparai the next morning with 2 stopovers. One at the Aliyar dam, where after a lot of huffing & puffing we reached the summit and could take some beautiful pictures of the coconut, paddy field & sugar-cane checker-board field town of Pollachi – now of course on the world map on a/c of SRK’s presence – & mine to a lesser extent!

Just before entering the Ghat section one can also visit Monkey falls – I think the place draws its name from its simian inhabitants. We didn’t linger too long there as an abundance of wet and unfit men in the bare minimum of clothing is more than anyone can take. And by the way, sunglasses are not meant to conceal your identity – they draw attention. Now you know why anyone who is anyone sports an over-size pair.

40 hair pin bends – 40 hair pin bends..oft-parroted phrase by Raja many times in the course of planning this trip - & it was as good as it promised. We were lucky enough to spot the elusive Nilgiri Tahr – the beast was very camera-savvy and very nonchalant about the cameras aimed at it as it continued to lunch with a fellow Tahr.Certain celebrities would do well to take a leaf from its sure-footed book. A bird’s eye view of the valley & several pictures later, we continued our ascent.

As we climbed higher we could feel the distinct drop in the temperature and the nip in the air. And the air! An indescribable fragrance of pine, moist leaves and eucalyptus – a balm for city-bruised lungs. The only thing that disappointed me here was the basic bordering on primitive infrastructure. The hotel supposedly no 2 in the town, made you wonder ‘if this is silver medal, what would gold be like!?’
I got to understand the concept of ‘running hot water’ in an altogether different construct! it was the feet that were doing the running ferrying it all over the place..but that also had its part to play in us embarking on a totally different route map vis-à-vis the one planned.

As for the food from the ‘cheapest & best’ ? well whoever thought of the word ‘mess’ couldn’t have been more delicately sarcastic if they tried. It was a MESS. But then Green hills came to a rescue! But here is where we question ourselves on the delicate balance between civilization & over-commercialisation.For the record I will still say I am happy I visited this place while its still in its infancy.
Come next morning and we set off for Athirampally – a place where I think the journey assumes a significance out all proportion - that is laid to rest only by the magnificence of the destination.

Again a stop-over at Sholayar dam & the scenery duly noted we hit the road again.
‘90 kms’ reads the first (& possibly only!) sign-board to Chalakudi.Barely were we through the border-checkpost (and how do they draw state-lines in forest areas anyway) than the forest extended its leafy fingers around us almost immediately. I have always been a nature lover (except for stray dogs and rats) and an avid follower of all the animal channels and so I was totally entranced at first by the beauty of the route.My 7th std geography came back to me as I classified it as an ‘evergreen forest’ while Raja on the other hand was filled with morbid thoughts and insisted on calling it a ‘Jurassic park’.
More particularly, the orchids growing on the barks of trees, the delicate fuzz of moss on tree-trunks, the bird-calls were a treat. So much a treat that the relative isolation in which we were traveling was very slowly evident to all of us – and we secretly feared it.

Fear was writ large in the face of bikers, in the face of people in vehicles who generously gave us way, in the way I unconsciously rolled up my windows, in the way Vetri’s eyes kept sliding to the left and right – casual but alert for the slightest movement Since here was a place where the lie of the land dictated the route. A route as yet unknown to him – skilled though he was, although he had taken the tamer, longer way around in previous journeys. Imagination becomes the scariest predator in such a journey when an overhanging thick vine can look like a snake, an extra large black cow like a bison & a large, fat grey rock exactly like the rump of a resting elephant. And the worse part about fear is seeing it mirrored on the faces of others – or knowing that their brains are also working on the same lines as your over-heated one.

For all that we even stopped to take pictures of the valley where the mist was rapidly being dissipated by the morning sun. But the sense of urgency in everyone’s actions got communicated to me through some invisible telegraph and we hurriedly got back into the car as the first, lazy drops of rain began to hit the already-pock-marked road.

Oh the road! For those people who complain about navigating Mumbai’s pot-holes or ‘craters’ as some remark, I would say navigating them in a concrete jungle is better than a real, live jungle where you are the intruder and the sound of silence is deafening. At some places, where the forest canopy eased and we were able to see a clearing with a long, wide lake, I relaxed a bit only to stiffen at the thought that the clearing might not be man-made. And our fears were proved right when we saw piles of elephant dung decorating the road edge. Seeing it is one thing, hearing a numerical narration was too much for my frayed nerves and I snapped to relieve some of my tension.

Finally after 3 hours on the knife-edge of tension, we visibly sighed when the journeys end was imminent. Although I have always felt that the only animal to attack without provocation is man (or woman) – im glad we didn’t have any encounter to prove me wrong.

Once you enter the place, there is a crudely painted sign which says ‘Full view of falls’ – note the word ‘view’ again….you can enjoy the placid waters, take a long soak in them & follow it up with a short trek to the bottom. Getting down is a treacherous path, it can turn into a slippery mud-slide if not careful. Finally we reached the base and were awed by the fury of the falls. Funny how a gentle gurgling river can turn into a raging monster, all thanks to gravity and by way of being suspended a few odd metres above level ground. It might not be as wide or as famous as Niagara, but its beauty was enhanced 10-fold by the dangers we passed through in reaching such a place. We clambered onto the rocks and felt the spray lash us like rain, I fall short of prose to describe the exhilaration we felt then, since it had to be experienced.

We then took the longer route to our last stop Palani…somewhere I think I must have dozed off as well, since I woke up when I felt the car slowing down at the check-post and with a click & a snap Vetri released the catch of his seat belt – all signs of entering Tam land. From then on it was a smooth run..although that winch gave me some anxious moments, because all said and done, gravity is a pretty powerful force to be working against! Another thing that amuses me is people cry out from the roof-tops at milk adulteration but when the white stuff is diluted to the point of watery tastelessness following the same principle when poured over the idol of a young boy who strikes a pose like a super-model – one hand negligently jutting out from one hip.oh no, then its called ‘abhishekam’!

We took the stairs down as I felt it’s the least I could do for my favourite and I came away with some souvenirs & lots of memories of the temple & trip in general. Maybe it was divine forces in HIS name that protected us, starting with Kartik travels, Marudhamalai, Palani & Vetri.Could that be a coincidence? You decide…