Munnar

I don't remember how I found Munnar. I was wandering through my Lonely Planet guide when I found a small town at an elevation of 1,500m. I decided it would be a wonderful way to escape the heat of the coast and find more mountains. I spent an afternoon in Fort Cochi to see the Chinese Fishing Nets that are the unofficial emblem of the Keralan backwaters. Which I didn't do because I don't like boats, mosquitoes or heat. After leaving my hotel, I jumped into a auto and asked to be taken to the bus stand. I had barely settled onto the duct-taped seat when the driver asked me if I was going to Munnar. I never said anything about Munnar. It was a very astute guess. I guess my ridiculously over sized hiking boots gave the game away. For the duration of the ride to the bus stand, he tried to convince me to let him take me to Munnar in an auto. He was looking for exorbitant amounts of money for a mode of transport I wouldn't spend more than half an hour in. The trip to Munnar was a minimum of four hours. I finally got on a bus that took me back into the Western Ghats. It was cramped and noisy but I had the wind in my hair and I didn't care. After five hours, I arrived and went in search of the guest house I had booked two days previously. I was directed up the hill to a building that looked to be in the intermediate stages of construction. I was amazed when I discovered that it was the place I had booked and it had no rooms. After spending most of the day on a bus, I was in no mood for excuses from the proprietor. It didn't matter as it looked like a dump anyway. I walked to another place nearby and got a much better room with a balcony. I was sorted for the week.

On Monday morning, I went to the post office to return a book to its owner and send some postcards. While I was there, I met a Liverpudlian named Jonny. He had just arrived in Munnar and like me, had no itinerary. We arranged to meet later and I headed off into the hills to explore some tea plantations. I asked a few locals if it was ok to walk through the area and I got no objections. I was woefully unprepared for my excursion through the hills. I had no suncream, no water and I was wearing flip-flops. I'd be shot for that kind of behaviour back home. It was worth it though.

Myself and Jonny started Tuesday with the best intentions. We were going to hire a motorbike and a scooter to see the countryside. However, the communists had other plans and put the entire town on strike. We sneaked in a furtive breakfast of eggs and paratha before returning to our respective rooms. There was nothing to do. The place was like a ghost town. For some bizarre reason, the only people that weren't on strike were the persistently annoying rickshaw-wallahs. One of them told us that the strike would be over after 6pm so we could get dinner. However, we had no such luck. Indians go out of their way to be helpful, even if the information they give isn't actually very useful. We found a restaurant outside town that was pure vegetarian. It could've been worse. At least it was open and the food was filling.

We went back to the bike hire shop on Wednesday morning only to be told there were no bikes available. Guess one can't take Indians for their word then. This time, we gave the owner 100 Rs. to book the bikes for the following day. We walked back into town with the intention of climbing Anamudi, the highest peak in the area. Before getting into a willing rickshaw, I asked a local if it was possible to climb it. My face fell when he said the peak was off limits because it was a protected area. So, myself and Jonny walked into the Tata Tea Plantation only to be told that that was off limits as well. We made our way back to Munnar and then took a sneaky detour towards the river. Our destination was the mountain on the other side of the valley. After battling with the undergrowth, we crossed the shallow river barefoot. Rather than walk away from the mountain in the direction of town, we walked along the road, looking for a way up. We found a rocky gorge and decided we'd give it a go. It went grand at first until branches and slippery rocks impeded my progress. Jonny seemed to have an easier time of it as he was only wearing trail shoes. I had my bulky hiking boots to contend with. At one point, my bag got stuck on the branches while I was clinging desperately to a little sliver of rock. My legs were shaking, my heart was thumping and I slipped a little bit only to grab onto some roots. I hadn't been that terrified since I climbed Carrauntoohil over two years ago. Once I got past that hurdle, I dragged myself to the top. I felt extremely unfit and the clammy heat didn't help. But I made it with only a few scratches on my hands and knees to show for the first scary part.

Thursday morning gave us an excellent example of Indian bureaucracy. I went to the bike hire shop alone. Jonny locked his keys in his room by accident and had to wait for the manager to show up to open it. After an hour and a half, he showed up and told me there was a key behind the desk the whole time but they "weren't allowed to use it." What are these people afraid of?! We eventually hit the road. I had a scooter, Jonny had a more temperamental motorbike. The day almost ended when Jonny's bike couldn't make it up the first steep hill it encountered. Turns out the owner had given him incorrect instructions on hos to operate the clutch. The roads were smooth and there was tea plantations everywhere. It was magical. Our destination was a place called Top Station, on the border between Kerala and Tamil Nadu. We were promised stunning views of the Western Ghats and they didn't disappoint. I'd put up photos but the internet cafes I use are either too slow to upload photos or won't allow me to. I left Munnar on Friday afternoon. I would've stayed longer but I had a train to catch...