It was the first weekend in Bengaluru and it was pouring down hard. After scouring through Google for about half an hour and skimming through the top suggestions it algorithmically throws my way, I picked Ooty at random and book the bus tickets for the night.
The bus was unusually {or usually} late but the weather Gods were bizarrely happy today. I watched a dark cloud canopy growing over the night, amidst a low rumble of thunder while on the way. I also witnessed lightning bedazzle the sky. Later, a cool breeze and light drizzling enhanced the weather while I was still waiting for the bus. After an hour of fiddling around with whatever, the bus finally arrives and I trundle off to Ooty with an overjubilant smile.
I had never been to the South before, so as the bus goes coursing the lanes of Karnataka, all through to Tamil Nadu, I didn't care enough to doze off for once, and rather kept peeping out the window all night. By the time morning comes knocking on the stained glass, the signboards had changed, and I started spotting people in lungis and saris. There were vast green farms flanking the roads and the sun was overwhelming those green farms.
While on my way to the hotel, I stumbled upon Iyengar’s bakery in Commercial Street. They offered me the softest bread encasing thick layers of jam and cream within which calmed by and my tired, hungry soul. I everything I ate was washed down maniacally with a hot cup of tea. It was a tangible piece of bliss since I was hungry since the night before.
Spiralling around the Nilgiris, I took an autorickshaw to the Doddabetta peak, which is crowned as the highest in the Western Ghats. The path leading up to the summit there is densely forested and the tall pine trees lie shrouded in mist. Clouds have embossed themselves over distant peaks, that are standing bathed in innumerable shades of blue.
I came across rare flowers, blossoming at every other turn, spilling open into a cute, vibrant bunch of colours, gleefully juxtaposed against green that had invaded all the space around. The fresh air breezing through the Nilgiris was so enlivening, that I kept bobbing in and out of the autorickshaw, throughout my way uphill, to rest my feet at the edge of a cliff, feel my nerves come undone, and breathe. It was magical.
At the summit, there was a telescope house that should supposedly enable everyone to catch stunning views of the valley but honestly, it doesn’t serve its purpose. I took a stroll around, gazed at the sky ripping itself apart to allow the sun flood the wilderness, and watched life unwrap itself in the valley as giant trees branch out, to make home for monkeys prancing on their edges, dangling from one, hopping on to the next, nestled careless and free and content in their impenetrable abode.
I also saw a tiny market nearby and all excited, I trailed a bit down to reach for a cute rainbow-hair-prop at a shop and wore it over my head.
Later in the night, the weather took a magical leap and I found clouds fogging my view, floating beside me and beneath my feet, sliding over and under the moon, and enveloping almost everything under their white haze.
The place is absolutely beautiful.
The bus was unusually {or usually} late but the weather Gods were bizarrely happy today. I watched a dark cloud canopy growing over the night, amidst a low rumble of thunder while on the way. I also witnessed lightning bedazzle the sky. Later, a cool breeze and light drizzling enhanced the weather while I was still waiting for the bus. After an hour of fiddling around with whatever, the bus finally arrives and I trundle off to Ooty with an overjubilant smile.
I had never been to the South before, so as the bus goes coursing the lanes of Karnataka, all through to Tamil Nadu, I didn't care enough to doze off for once, and rather kept peeping out the window all night. By the time morning comes knocking on the stained glass, the signboards had changed, and I started spotting people in lungis and saris. There were vast green farms flanking the roads and the sun was overwhelming those green farms.
While on my way to the hotel, I stumbled upon Iyengar’s bakery in Commercial Street. They offered me the softest bread encasing thick layers of jam and cream within which calmed by and my tired, hungry soul. I everything I ate was washed down maniacally with a hot cup of tea. It was a tangible piece of bliss since I was hungry since the night before.
Spiralling around the Nilgiris, I took an autorickshaw to the Doddabetta peak, which is crowned as the highest in the Western Ghats. The path leading up to the summit there is densely forested and the tall pine trees lie shrouded in mist. Clouds have embossed themselves over distant peaks, that are standing bathed in innumerable shades of blue.
I came across rare flowers, blossoming at every other turn, spilling open into a cute, vibrant bunch of colours, gleefully juxtaposed against green that had invaded all the space around. The fresh air breezing through the Nilgiris was so enlivening, that I kept bobbing in and out of the autorickshaw, throughout my way uphill, to rest my feet at the edge of a cliff, feel my nerves come undone, and breathe. It was magical.
At the summit, there was a telescope house that should supposedly enable everyone to catch stunning views of the valley but honestly, it doesn’t serve its purpose. I took a stroll around, gazed at the sky ripping itself apart to allow the sun flood the wilderness, and watched life unwrap itself in the valley as giant trees branch out, to make home for monkeys prancing on their edges, dangling from one, hopping on to the next, nestled careless and free and content in their impenetrable abode.
I also saw a tiny market nearby and all excited, I trailed a bit down to reach for a cute rainbow-hair-prop at a shop and wore it over my head.
Later in the night, the weather took a magical leap and I found clouds fogging my view, floating beside me and beneath my feet, sliding over and under the moon, and enveloping almost everything under their white haze.
The place is absolutely beautiful.
