Lost in the wilderness

It was during a casual lunch out with friends that we conceived the idea of visiting Kenya; I was the least enthusiastic one among six of us (including my husband) for the simple fact that I don’t understand wildlife. Planning started well in advance (in March), as we intended to visit during peak season of animal migration i,e; Mid July to Mid of August. Initial bookings were done, but then I went through a personal tragedy that stretched for almost two months, it put me into absolute oblivion. I wanted to back out from the tour; my friends resisted vehemently and today I am grateful to them for that.

It was an eight days trip that started with taking a direct flight to Nairobi from Mumbai. We reached Nairobi at ten in the morning, representative of our tour operator Buymore Adventures (Ms. Nadzua) was waiting for us outside the airport with a pack of sandwiches, local SIM cards for each one and a most endearing smile. We were introduced to our guide cum driver Kaka, a young man of Luo tribe from Lake Victoria. Almost immediately we started for Amboseli National park in Southern Kenya near the foothill of Mt. Kilimanjaro. It was a four and half hour drive, last one hour of which was quite bumpy; this was the only leg of our tour where we took a road trip, intended to get a flavour of the countryside.

A vegetable market on the way

The landscape

We stayed in Ol Tukai lodge inside the park, a spread out property surrounded by sky range of green pasture in three sides and the mighty Kilimanjaro on the other. Tired and grumpy, as we passed through the lounge after the welcoming protocol, the unspoiled green with zebras grazing freely opened up in front of us; in one instant, all discomfort forgotten I was in a stupor. We were allotted elephant view cottages that provided unhindered view of the pasture, only a thin wire fence separated us from the animals. It became dark soon after, so the bar and dining hall were left to be explored for the night.

In Amboseli

A Tuskar in front of the Cottage; biggest of the big five

It was still dark outside when I woke up the next day; my husband was getting ready to join the group for early morning safari. I already opted to stay back; the property had too much to offer that I wanted to explore in my own way. The first glimpse of Sunrise appeared in the horizon like a sacred dream; in a daze I started moving towards the pasture where the zebra and buffaloes were in a silent march creating silhouettes on a celestial landscape. Next few hours I strolled around the property absolutely immersed into the sanctity of nature, listening to the sweet melodies of unknown birds, observing the orderly formation of the wild animals; the lively baboons freely playing around in the remote area of the lodge weren’t bothered about my presence either. It was a morning to be treasured in my chest of memories. 

The Pasture

F

The Sunrise

In the later part of the morning, we went to the nearby Masai village as part of our itinerary. Our interaction with the son of the Kraal Chief and their medicine man appeared to be phony, so was the Masai dance and visiting their huts. A makeshift school with its sole teacher and handful of students was in dire need of patronage, if to be taken seriously. Frankly speaking the entire episode of the proud Masai clan trying to impress the tourists made me feel sad; I had much more honest interaction with them in the lodge and during my solitary bush walk at Masai mara.

Masai hut

The Masai ladies 

A delayed lunch followed by a leisurely chat and photo session at the poolside in the winter afternoon Sun was thoroughly enjoyable. I spent rest of the daytime sitting at the veranda, sipping Darjeeling tea (Yes, I carry that everywhere).

Elans, the biggest bucks

The Ostrich

Next day, early morning well spent in the open ground post breakfast we set out for the nearby airstrip to catch a charter flight to Naivasha, scheduled at 8.30 am in one of the lodge vehicles (our own vehicle went to our next destination the previous evening). We could manage quite a few sighting of animals and bird at the roadside swamp on our way, driver of the vehicle facilitated photography by halting suitably. On reaching the airstrip, we were informed that our flight was late by an hour, but we can go in another aircraft already waiting on the runway. ‘What about the passengers of this plane?’ we asked gingerly, ‘They haven’t arrived yet, may be they take your flight’ the porter already helping with our luggage declared with a laugh. This was my first experience of a charter flight, so it was my fancy to be photographed with the Pilot. Accordingly, I approached the porter, ‘Can I take a selfie with the Pilot?’; ‘yes of course, I am the Pilot!’ Before I could react, he obliged with the selfie and went into the cockpit assuredly; I lacked his confidence though for the entire flight of an hour.

Unlike Amboseli (a forest land away from city life), Naivasha was an industrial town with urban influences much like Nairobi. From the airstrip Kaka picked us up and headed for the Crescent Island, basically a private ranch on the Naivasha Lake with one side attached to the mainland. It required a lot of steep climb and long walk in the picturesque property, but the freely roaming Zebras, Wildebeests, Giraffe, Elands, Waterbucks, Impalas and numerous species of migrated birds on the lake including Pelicans and Anhingas made it worth the pain. The entry fee for foreigners is 30$ each for the island which I found a bit steep though.

Giraffe

The Anhingas

The Pelicans

The orange crown stock

Spur winged Plover

From crescent Island we went to our resting place for next two days, Kiboko camp, a luxury camp hotel right at the bank of Lake Naivasha. Staying at the camp, one could simply do nothing, but sit at the private veranda viewing the lake for hours, or sip a glass of wine at the bar and witness a most romantic Sunset on the lake; this would surely be a lifetime experience even for a seasoned traveler. In the afternoon, we went for a boat ride on the lake which I felt wasn’t necessary, as we stayed right on the bank and anyway observed hoard of birds of all kind from a very close quarter.

The fish eagle

The Pied kingfisher

A Giant Kingfisher

Kiboko Camp

Sunset at Naivasha Lake

Naivasha Lake at dawn

In the evenings, guests were supposed to call for a guard to be escorted to the dining hall, across the garden yard. We were a bit casual about it and went without one on the first night; while returning to the room, a guard insisted on accompanying. A hippo was grazing at the garden at arm’s length, ‘they will tear you apart if come on their way’ his simple warning took away my courage. That night symphony of Hippos’ growling (can’t term it particularly melodious) helped us to have ‘Sound sleep’; I woke up at least twice with a start just to check below the bed.

Next morning we went for a day long trip to Nakuru Lake National Park, the road trip was enjoyable with good road and picturesque landscape. The park was surrounded by the vast salty lake with deep blue water stretched till the horizon. Here we spotted white Rhino and also lion for the first time in our trip; though two of our team members who took night safari in Amboseli, saw lion cubs there also. An elaborate lunch at the hill top Sopa Lodge with spectacular view of the valley added to the charm.

White Rhino, one of the big five

The Jungle King

Nakuru Lake

We had a morning flight next day to Masai mara at 10 am, due to miscommunication, the hotel ordered for the cars late (we had to take two cars due to our luggage) and the airstrip was a long drive of about forty five minutes. We ladies started in the first car that arrived earlier, the driver wasn’t fast enough, when insisted he just gave a most charming smile, by now the second car with the men drove past us. We panicked as they went beyond our view line; when insisted to catch up, the fellow gave a heart-warming answer, ‘I don’t know the road to airstrip’. One of us called up a friend in the other car, as we thought we have spotted the car ahead. ‘Please take your hand out from the window, so we know we are in the correct road’ was her suggestion. There was no response from the car ahead; I muttered all the abuses that I knew, fortunately I have very limited vocabulary for that. As we reached, ten minutes late for the flight time, our friend from the other car started barking, ‘I flapped like a flamingo all through the road, you idiots couldn’t see?’ It was another car that we thought was theirs we realised. Anyway, with great luck this time also our flight was late by an hour; the airstrip staff (basically two guards) went to sleep on the grass at the entrance, the moment we were in. Finally when our aircraft was about to arrive, one of the guards went to the runway riding a bike, we thought to be witnessing a new trick for landing; it was to ward off the grazing zebras in order to make room for the plane we realised later.

In Masai Mara we stayed in Kikorok Lodge, a beautifully maintained estate with a Hippo pond (Hippos became a constant companion to me in this trip, I realised) and a widespread un-fenced grassland where not only zebras, wild buffaloes, leopards and even lions pay a regular visit at night. In the three days that we stayed there, our safaris were unforgettable with all possible African animals spotted near at hand. The early morning balloon safari followed by champagne breakfast in the open; the private bush dinner at a most thrilling atmosphere heightened by sudden mock ambush by the Masai warriors were all experiences of a lifetime. On the last day evening I took a Bush walk with a Masai reception staff of the hotel that will also remain as a treasure in my memory forever.

Our Cottage in Kikorok

We rule the Jungle, the mightiest of big Five

Brothers in arms

Wild buffalo, one of the big five

Do I need to say more?

The Hyana

The ultimate affection

The Exodus, wildebeests

Zebras at Mara river crossing

Where Eagles dare

Who am I?

Leopard with a kill, the most dangerous of big Five

A Cheetah

The landscape

Sunrise from Balloon safari

Mongoose, Taken from Balloon

At the bush dinner

At the Hippo Pond

At Mara River crossing

On the final day of our trip we took a mid-day flight to Nairobi (again an hour late), had lunch at carnivore restaurant that serves all kind of meat available in African Jungle (I ate a vegetable pizza quite apologetically), did some shopping from the local market and took a night flight to Mumbai. It would be wrong to say ‘with that our journey ended’; it was actually the beginning of a romance for me with wildlife and with Africa.

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All photographs of this blog are personal property of Mr. Dilip Pal. Copyright (c)dilippal 2017

Copyright (c)ananyapal2017

ALL RIGHT RESERVED 

Myanmar – A voyage to the Ancient world

It was a long time aspiration of the history lover in me to visit Brahma Desha, modern day Myanmar; the aspiration became an urge when the country opened up for tourists in the last few years. Lack of interest (of the teenage member) and lack of time (of the adult member) of my family kept deterring my travel plan; but suddenly I found a Messiah in my beloved college friend Anindita who is suffering from acute syndrome of wanderlust. So finally we made a plan for a trip in early November; the tourist season in Myanmar starts from mid-November (after officially the rainy season gets over), so we made a conscious decision to avoid the peak tourist rush, at the same time to get a dry weather. We decided to travel from Kolkata, though my current place of residence is Dhaka, for the simple reason that Biman Bangladesh offered cheaper price from Kolkata for some strange reason (it’s a one stop flight via Dhaka). We planned to visit Bagan, the city of Pagoda for three days and Nyaungshwe Township, famous for Inle Lake for two days; our stay at Yangon was planned one day each on the day of arrival and departure.

We arrived at Yangon International airport in the afternoon, equipped with crisp 100 dollar notes; they refuse to accept notes with even a hint of some imaginary scratch at the Money Changer counters and hotels. The flight was on time, immigration was fast and smooth and our cab driver was waiting with an infectious smile and a placard in our name. At the Money changing counter inside the airport, two of the five notes I supplied got rejected for reason unknown. My friend paled at the prospect, as we didn’t have much excess reserve. On our way to Bagan the next day while trying to encash some more, the same two got accepted while another one was rejected; probably this was a unique method of intimidating the potential fraudsters. 

We booked our hotel-drop beforehand through a local friend, but that was unnecessary, as taxis are in abundance right in front of the airport and for that matter everywhere across the city. The city, on our way and in later occasion appeared to be clean with an oriental touch; the people extremely polite and cordial. In colourful ethnic lungi and a touch of thanka (sandlewood like paste) on cheeks, the ladies looked radiant; there beauty lied in their femininity and natural grace. Our hotel was in Chinatown, carefully selected to be closer to the tourist attractions and also to sip in the local flavour. The choice proved apt, when the Shwedagon Pagoda came in full view with its magnificence, as we entered our 12^th floor room. Without wasting much time in the hotel we took a cab and preceded for the Pagoda, famously known as Golden Pagoda, one of the Seven Wonders of the World and the most sacred pilgrimage place in Myanmar (believed to treasure four relics of Buddha, including eight strands of his curls). Originally built during 6^th to 10^th Century by Mon people, the pagoda reached its current magnitude in 15^th Century during the reign of Queen Binnya Thau. By the time we entered the premises after paying entrée fees and clearing security, it was dusk; the Pagoda with full illumination in the backdrop of twilight was a sight I would treasure in my memories for life. The true magnetism of the great Stupa wasn’t in its splendour only; the divinity and peace that hung in the atmosphere was truly mesmeric. We decided to revisit the shrine at dawn on our second stay.

The Pagoda

One of the four center Temples

One of the many small temples surrounding the Stupa

One of the temples facing the Stupa

One more of such magnificence

We travelled by an early morning flight to our destination; the small domestic airport was clean with necessary arrangements; staff were disciplined and helpful though language was a challenge. In Bagan airport, after registering our entry and paying the entrée fee (it goes to the Bagan Archaeological department that ensures no separate entry fee in any of the Pagodas) we took a taxi for hotel at New Bagan. Our driver Mr. Aung Aung turned out to an overzealous chap (even surpassing my own craziness); he not only took a longer root to show us quite a few Pagodas on the way, but also insisted on a series of photo sessions in front of each and every site. The hotel was a resort with lushness of green and aesthetic decors both inside the cottages and outside; the food at their restaurant deserved special mentioning.

Dhamma-Ya-za-Ka Pagoda, dates back to 1198 AD built by King Narapatisithu

One of the Oldest structures shown by Aung

Next two and half days were a ride in a time machine that took us back at least a thousand years. The terracotta Pagodas and temples with faded frescos, weathered sculptures, imposing statues and panoramic terrace views had many tales to whisper in my eager ears; I sailed through, completely immerged in the atmosphere. The Sunset view from Temple terrace overlooking the Old Bagan was also bliss. The visit to the Archaeological Museum was very insightful with stone inscriptions supported by English translations and collections of sculptures and other remnants from the past. The Golden Palace Museum, a replica of the Pagan Royal Palace (completely eradicated with time) was also worth visiting, a sound and music show also takes place in the premises during peak time we were told. Our mode of transport in Bagan was a Tanga (horse cart) falling in line with the atmosphere; the driver Mr. Ku Thet became a friend, though we could hardly understand each other’s language. He showed me the special temple where He and his wife prayed to have a baby after being childless for nine long years, showed me the photo of his infant son; he explained me the significance of the typical structure of the Pagodas. On our way back every day he played soulful love songs in traditional Burmese, the melody reminded of our fifties’ Gold.    

The Thatbyinny built in 1144 AD by King Alaungsithu

The famous Ananda Temple built by King Kayansitha

The majestic Lord in Ananda

From the courtyard

Fresco of Brahma

The Lawkananda Pagoda in the bank of Ayeyarwaddy river

View from the Pagoda

Nanpaya, a Hindu temple built by King Makuta

Scuptures at the temples

Nanpaya

Famous aurches, a characterstics of Pagan architecture

A cluster opposite Mayazedi Pagoda

Mayazedi Pagoda bulit by Prince Yazakumar in 12th Century

A unique Deity inside the temple where our driver prayed for child

The grand gateway of the ancient citadel 

Mahabodhi Pagoda, a replica of the one in Budhgaya by king Htilominlo in 13th century

Bupaya Pagoda at riverside

The temple at Bupaya

Gwadapalin temple built by King Narapatisithu in 13th century

An ancient village with strategically formed Pagodas near Myin Kabar

A closer look

The Archaeological Museum

Collection of weapons

Statues of Lord Buddha

The Golden Palace Museum

One of the gatekeepers of a temple

Rooftop view

Sunset from Shwegugyi

Shwegugyi with the Crescent moon

The Inle lake township is a sleepy place near the lake, surrounded by the mystic mountains; the magical landscape being its attraction. Another early morning flight took us to the Nyaungshwe airport from which the Town was about an hour’s delightful taxi ride. Our hotel was at a quiet corner in the lap of nature, the room overlooked the mountain range. The day we arrived, we went to Red mountain vineyard estate. A wine tasting outlet beside the winery provided a panoramic view of the valley with the backdrop of Lake and Mountain; the sunset from the place was a photographer’s delight, the wine was not that much to talk about though. Next morning we went for a day long cruise on the lake, visiting traditional workshops of silverware, handicrafts, handlooms and cigars; we also visited their fishing villages and a floating garden of vegetables. A hearty lunch of surprisingly delicious lake-fish platter in a restaurant on the lake was an added bonus. The flock of seagulls that welcomed us on the Sun kissed water in the morning and the silhouette of the home going lot at twilight left a mark in my mind to be cherished for long.

A traditional house near hotel

The Vineyard

Sunset from resturant

The fishing village

Heading for market

The Acrobat with his fishing net

The day we came back from Inle to Yangon, it was almost lunchtime; but we decided to forego lunch and visit the War Cemetery at Taukkyan district directly from the airport. It’s a memorial for the soldiers of Colonial British Army who fell in the Burmese frontlines (around 27,000) while fighting the Japanese force. The Cenotaph was written in English, Hindi, Urdu and Gurumukhi; that explained the nationality of the most of the martyrs. Around 4000 gravestones were beautifully laid on the surrounding ground; those were the luckier ones whose graves were marked in the frontline terrain, lot of them unidentified though. Rest of the lot remained as a name, inlaid on the walls of the Memorial. There were registers with the names and identities of the soldiers, available for Public inspection. I left the place with a sense of void and a deep surge of melancholy.

The war cemetery

The grave stones

This time also we stayed in Chinatown and post check in, went to the Strand Road area that reminds of Yangon’s colonial past; for obvious reason I found the place very similar to Kolkata’s Esplanade, though a lot more quieter. The Rangoon Tea house there provided an old world charm with an elaborate menu, a major part of it dominated by Indian delicacies; it signified the massive influx of Indians in erstwhile Ragoon during Colonial Burma. We spent the evening roaming around the area and also doing some shopping from ‘Myanmar House’ a fixed price shop also from the previous era that offered beautiful local crafts, weaves and gems.

On the day of our return, we went to Shwedagon Pagoda for the second time at 5.30 in the morning, witnessing the Shrine at solemn dawn and also in the jubilant morning Sun. I sat at a corner facing the Stupa for a long time, following the quiet worshipers and the meditating monks; it was a different feeling of ecstasy that filled my heart.

Very similar to Writers' Building of Kolkata

The Rangoon Tea House

The Grand Western Entrance of the Pagoda

At dawn

In the morning Sun

A 'just married' couple obliged

A treasure of memories I have carried back from this land of history; ‘a small return gift you owe my friend’ churned in my mind, as the aircraft took off from Yangon; ‘a few stories of your glorious past it would be’, I promised.

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Copyright (c)ananyapal2016 ALL RIGHT RESERVED