Wayanad District, Kerala.

I entered Kerala by bus. Not the classiest way to enter a beautiful state but I didn’t have many other options. I arrived in Sulthan Bathery one hot afternoon. It took four hours of winding, bumpy roads before I arrived. I didn’t see any signs announcing the transition from Tamil Nadu to Kerala so I wasn’t really sure what state I was in. Eventually, the bus arrived and I peeled my t-shirt from the leather seat. It was hot, damn hot. I was beginning to think I should’ve stayed in the hills. An Irishman’s melting point is approximately 32 degrees Celsius. As most people know, I sweat worse than Robin Williams doing stand up. It was a relief to reach my hotel room and escape the sun. That evening, I met a German named Frank who recommended a few places to go in Kerala. He also told me that it’s even hotter along the coast. On Saturday, I went to see a 700 year old Jain temple. The guide was very interesting but I didn’t understand much of the symbology associated with this religion. That evening, I got on another bus to a nearby town called Kalpetta as the hotel in Sulthan Bathery was booked out. It was a shame as I never even got to use the swimming pool. The towns weren’t much to write about. I was staying here because I wanted to see the Wayanad Wildlife Sanctuary.

On Monday morning, I got up at the unearthly hour of 6am to get a jeep to Tholpetty, one of the two sanctuaries. It was foggy but the driver assured me that it would lift once the sun came up. The jeep was a really cool Mahindra something or other than looked like a Land Rover Defender. The windows were made of plastic and the doors had sills that had to be climbed over to gain entry. Once I was in, it was comfortable enough until the roads turned bumpy. The tour took nearly two hours and I saw loads of spotted deer and the swishing tail of an elephant. It was better than no elephant. I also saw enormous spider webs and I had to wonder how big the spiders themselves were. I was then taken to Kuruva Island, which was a forested island surrounded by a river. I was given two choices: take a boat across or walk through the river. Naturally, I chose the latter option. It only went up to my knees and I managed not to fall into the water. I paid an entrance fee and began walking through the forest. I began walking down a side path and quickly left the hoards of Indian tourists behind. I felt completely isolated, which is a wonderful feeling in a country of over one billion people. I did see one raptor that was probably just another black kite but other than that, nothing attacked me. I decided to turn back when the track I was walking on petered out among the trees. On my way back through the water, I was stopped yet again by Indians who wanted to take a photo of me. At this point, it’s gone beyond flattery.

I was up again the following morning to do a hike up Chembra Peak, the highest mountain in the Wayanad District. I was joined in the jeep by a trio of affable Londoners. The walk began just after 8am, an hour I would normally only be getting up for a hike at home. It began at a height of about 800m and ascended to 2,100m. It was hot but there was a cool breeze to offer some relief. After about two hours, we reached the top and had lunch. The terrain of rocks and dry grass reminded me of Connemara. I found going down tougher than going up as the dusty path was steep and covered in loose rocks. The lowlands were obscured by haze but the views of the surrounding mountains were still impressive. I was the only one wearing hiking boots but luckily, there were no injuries. That night, I went to dinner with my fellow walkers. I got more useful tips on where to go next and I also offered them some suggestions on places to see. I decided I had seen enough of my stuffy hotel room and caught a bus to the coast. Where I melted just a little bit more…