New Year 007 in Kodagu









2 days of hospitality from the young Koshys, Nidhi’s wedding, a full day spent with Miriam’s good old friends she met after 3 years, the sacred pilgrimage to Casa Picolas and Chackochayan’s fabulous lunch at Schezwan Court at the Bangalore Oberoi – that was pretty much Bangalore in a nutshell.

Dec 29
The journey started from the famous Airlines Restaurant in Bangalore at a very late 12 pm after a quick rendez vous with Siddharth & Mac over wafer thin dosas and strong cups of filter coffee.

Ranganthittu Bird Sanctuary was our major break on the way to Kodagu. On the boat, and unlike our experience at all sanctuary visits at Ranthambore, Karnala and Masanagudi we actually saw hordes of exotic birds and two big fat crocodiles up real close and personal. Our knowledgeable boatman was stupid enough to row us right up 1 meter in front of a sun bathing croc and splash water on his face! I believe we got lucky he was a damn well behaved Mr. Croc - :)

Oh! The fresh air up in Coorg as one enters the Kodagu check post is … wicked! And Kushi’s family, the Kalingada house, where we spent 4 days, was just incredible - amazing hospitality. The efficient & gorgeous Kushi had organized every minute of our trip. Kushi’s little one Arjen (pronounced Aryan) is a star and Kritika, a.k.a Kritter kept us all entertained. In typical Coorgi tradition, we started with double patiala McD Brandy x 3 so I didn’t realize the fiery composition of the Pandi curry and Otis at dinner later till I smelt burning flesh… my tongue! Miriam’s probably a bit Coorgi with her kind of threshold for spice and I could she was enjoying every bit of that tasty pig as I struggled, sweating it out, regardless of the chilly 10 degrees that night.

Next day sun up the plan was to peek into a bit of Coorgi history. The similarities between the Malloo’s and the Coorgi culture were stunning. So Kush Kush set up a visit to Aine house at Balle Main with Tata (granpa). The 270-year-old maternal ancestral home is not used as residence anymore, but is used purely as a venue for the family to meet on occasions. It was damn well maintained for a historical piece such as this – the Bandra bungalows must take a leaf out of here – and much credit is due to the family. Folklore maintains that Coorgi men hail from Kurdistan (proof is the traditional male dress & dagger), they landed up on the Malayali coast, lost in a boat I presume like our friends the Parsis, and set up home along Kerala’s bordering forests in what is known as Kodagu. Women, carpentry, architecture and a lot of the language was brought over from the plains in Kerala – present day Coorg is testimony to all this. And here I was thinking Coorg was alien land somewhere along Kannada land while, all along, this was as good as home.

That afternoon, we went off-roading on the state highway to Nagarhole sanctuary on the Jeep and I can’t help imagine how tough Mahindras really are to withstand such abuse. I enjoyed every bit of that driving, abusing that mean MM 540. Later, there were protests that I didn’t heed the you-just-missed-that-crevice-TJ or my-bile-is coming-out-of-my-ears from back-seat drivers Mir, Kritter & Co… well I say that’s probably cos I didn’t recognize their oh-so-grime-covered faces! And if ever there was a definition for consistency that would be the odds of team M & TJ actually spotting a wild animal on a safari. I wonder, is it the city smell that we carry along that these animals avoid us like the plague? I mean isn’t there anything like manners in the Jungle Book – we drive what, 5 hours to see them all and none except the propah Mr. Sambar kept his appointment, tsk tsk.

Day 3 was a breeze of Mercara, the fab lunch at East End hotel, North Coorg Club and the radiant Yashica with Nanjappa. Girls of course they [giggle & gossip] but what happens when they all meet after 3 years, its [that] x 3!

Day 4 was lunching on home cooked Thayirusadam (a heavenly mixture of boiled rice and curd with a generous smattering of ginger, green chillies & red onions) & curry of roasted wild fowl scaled all the way up a 1,000 meter, 75° mountain without any trails by one visibly smart enthu-cutlet guy, a lissome lass with a 3’ chopper, an I-trip transmitted transistor and 2 liabilities (with a big L) who had to be beaten like donkeys all the way up. The Liabilities who, by the way, prevented us from reaching the Pinnacle even though it was just above our noses.

A most memorable evening followed, picking thorns & nursing scratches from the Climb, around real wood fire in the cool Coorgi night with Kushi’s BBQ project. The most awesome BBQ of Frankfurters & chicken in super potent kandari chilli paste came forth. However, the fireworks that night came not only from the sparklers Arjen lit, but also from the kandari paste in our palates!

When with lumpy throats we did leave the next morning, we couldn’t help but think the world is indeed a lovely place with beautiful people...