As if being married to each other wasn’t adventure enough, my husband of almost 14 years, K, suggested a road trip. A holiday at last! Lulled by dreams of lazing and feasting, I showed great enthusiasm. Once you know someone for close to 20 years, you think there aren’t any more surprises. There are.
“Let’s go on the bike,” he said in his usual blasé way. K is a bit of a bike nut. He had recently bought the Royal Enfield Himalayan and was raring to try it out, and so we decided to ride down to Thekkady for our maiden trip.
Togged out in jackets, helmets, proper footwear and with minimal luggage strapped to the carrier, we set off early in the morning. We rode for two hours before we stopped for breakfast at Dharapuram. We made sure to stop every hour to stretch our legs.
Thinking of it now, it was like a series of images flashing past: majestic windmills, electrical wires, green hills, colourful saris of the women planting rice in the fields, gushing water.
Once we reached Thekkady, we did the mandatory boat ride in the Periyar Tiger Reserve. It was helpful to have a guide on-board, pointing out the birds and beasts. Sadly, there were no elephants or tigers to be seen. But why would they show themselves to a bunch of loud, noisy humans?
The next day, we went on a three-hour-long ‘green walk’ through the forest, accompanied by Renji, a guide from one of the tribes who live in the sanctuary. Since it was drizzling and raining, he gave us leech socks as protection.
We were lucky to spot the elusive Malabar whistling thrush early in the walk. Renji also pointed out a deadly tiger wasp nest. We saw a blooming gloriosa, Tamil Nadu’s State flower. As we walked further and further, it became less about trying to spot animals and more about taking in the surroundings. Absolute silence broken only by a squirrel’s chatter, birdsong or a frog’s call. When we emerged from a grassy stretch, our shoes and socks were peppered with leeches. A shower of tobacco powder took care of that.
Almost at the end of the walk, we saw a lone wild boar. By this time, our feet were killing us. With the boar staring down on us — or so we believed — our concern was whether we could outrun it. However, the boar showed zero interest in us and trotted away.
On our way back home, we went off course by about 20 km. Helpful lorry drivers and citizens set us back on our path. So say yes to people, no to Google. Speaking of people, all through our trip, the bike attracted curious glances and many questions. It was endearing to watch my otherwise-reserved, almost-shy husband talk to complete strangers about his vehicle.
The trip reminded me of just how simple pleasures can be. The peace of a forest. Green of innumerable shades. A good ride with my favourite person. If this is life, I will take it every day.
