Coorg: The House of Clouds

The rain bugged us all throughout our trip to Coorg. But hospitality reined too. A few adventures were inevitable.

On our way to Madikeri, we stopped for a quick lunch of momos and noodles at Bylakuppe, surprisingly the largest Tibetan settlement in Asia. I was smitten by the absolute brilliance of the architecture of the Golden temple.

And nothing prepared me for the beauty and the peace inside the main temple. Its a huge hall with three golden statues sitting in repose. Pin drop silence is maintained, and I could swear there was a halo around the statues. I mean, I didn’t have to use flash in my camera!

We arrived at our resort amid a drizzle, which never really stopped till we stayed there. As we waited for the formalities to end I started exploring the place. The architecture adopted by the Mahindra resort here is of course Coorgi. They have a delightful reception area, with a sky light that opens on top of a square pond. It dawned on me that I was not responsible for clothes in the wash, for breakfast, lunch or dinner, or cleaning the house for the next few days. Empty mind is a devil’s workshop. Mine became that now. But not quite. “Life me aaraam ho to ideas aate hai,” is better.

Anyway, I took a flight of steps to look around at the scenery. I was coming back towards the square pond when I suddenly thought of this entire place being owned by a rich pre-independence era family. And their daughter, brought up in a modern way, educated in Oxford, is to marry a rich man. I imagined her standing on the top of the stairs frowning into the rain, as she thought of this man – handsome, kind, gregarious. She had said yes to him, albeit a gnawing in her heart. What of that other man? Hadn’t she outright rejected him? A poor, selfless freedom fighter. The only promise he could give her is professing to love her for the rest of his life, which might be cut short if he carried on with his activities. The answer was very clear. She knew the right person to marry. Yet, she frowned into the rain.

Sorry to break your reverie, but that’s how far I got. Coz with a squeal, my son came running at me. I picked him up and said, “Ok, I choose you.” He giggled and kissed my face till I asked him to stop slobbering me.

We just relaxed around that day, discovering that food was as expensive as diamonds there. And the 55 rupees coffee tasted awful. We headed towards town in the evening for dinner. We found a cozy little restaurant called The Coorg Cuisennette. We wasted no time in ordering the famous pandy curry and bamboo shoot curry, and along with them came kodampattu - the cutest rice balls I ever dug my fangs into. So day one was pretty satisfying. Burp! Oops sorry.

Next morning we discovered that I forgot to pack my husband’s jeans. He was now stuck in his three fourths, and no jacket. Coz, he had only brought along a warm corduroy coat which would definitely not look nice without a full length trouser type. Ducking from his dark looks, I donned on my own stuff, complete with matching muffler and leather jacket. He glared at me as I preened in front of the mirror. “From next time, do your own packing,” I hissed, unfazed. Five years of marriage, you see. Honeymoon’s over sonny!

After breakfast, we headed for Abbey falls. Rains are the best time to visit a waterfall, coz they are flourishing with water. After that we reached Bhagamandala, where in stood a three hundred year old temple. Here we could also see the confluence of the three legendary rivers – Cauvery, Kannike and Sujyoti. However, I will just remember the place as the spot where my son fell into cow dung. He has a special talent for these kind of things, and can’t help showing off when an audience is present. We washed him under a tube well, string of appropriate curses ejecting from my mouth with appropriate speed. The rain mocked on.

Farther up ahead, we visited another temple called Tal Cauvery. This is where the Cauvery starts. We were kinda surprised to find no pomp and show here. Photography was banned and there were practically no tourists. Compared to Gangotri, where the Ganges starts, this was really low profile. The rain wasn’t helping either.

Rest of the day was spent splotching in the muddy streets looking at shopping options. I found the market place cute – spices, honey and kokum predominated. The funny thing was there were so many stores selling spices along with shoes. We didn’t get the logic and were too polite to ask. But we made it a point to buy from such a store. Just for kicks!

Next day we reached the Dubaare Elephant Camp after a short boat ride. That was my son’s day. Stripped down to his diaper, he gave the elephants the bath of their lives. He couldn’t stop raving about it even after we came back. We are back in Bangalore now, and the incessant rain is trying hard not to make me miss Coorg. But its never the same.