August 13th
On sunday amit, mark (amits boss) and me decided to take a trip to Matheran.. a hill station about 3 hours away. On a mini adventure. the drive was amazing. right in rural india. cow and goat herds and herders everywhere (i wonder what its like to be a cow herder?). then up a big scary hill on hair pin bends with no sides. Death could have been imminent at any time!
we then had to make the decision to hike to the top (about 4kms through the jungle) or get a horse or human rickshaw (no cars etc allowed). we decided to walk. Mark and i looked like sweaty westerners as it was uphill and mega hot. we where all soaked through by the time we got to the top with our driver ( good name Mohammed Asif (everyone has a good name in India), skull cap, big beard, and big ink stain down his entire left handside).
we get to the top and find a ramshackle town whose main inhabitants appeared to be monkeys. Monkeys everywhere, families of them promenading down the street. Sitting outside houses. It should be called Monkey town.
We had all enjoyed the walk but where disappointed by Matheran town. We had heard of a great hotel called verandah in the forest, which is meant to be an old colonial palce. So we decide to head there for some refreshments. Soon an earlier dream I had whilst trekking in the heat came true. The heavens opened. It was like a dam bursting its banks. Water just poured out of the sky in huge torrents. The clay soil turned into a red river .We where wearing t-shirts and loose trousers. They where soon plastered to us. I got hysterical. I don't know what it is about loads of rain, and getting wet. I just can't help but laugh. We walk for about 15 minutes through the road/river trying to find this hotel. It better bloody be the Taj Mahal and the best tea we have ever had! At last we find it. It is a beautiful building but with the rudest, most unhelpful staff in India (this is a rarity!!). We stay for a rubbish and extortionate snack and decide we must head back before nightfall. Suddenly the sound of a bomb going off scares the shit out of us. Its actually thunder and we see lightening strike a tree outside!! We have a 4 km hike back to dryness! Poor Mohammed Asif looks like a drowned little boy and he must think we are crazy. His ink stain, from some mystery pen, has spread and spread and spread. He looks like he is bleeding blue from a gunshot wound.
We decided to men shall ride horses down the mountain and I will get a human rickshaw. We run to our transportation. Luckily my rickshaw is covered. But a slow sense of shame creeps over me. 2 skinny, small men are carrying me down the mountain. Luckily the shame soon dissipates as I begin to enjoy myself and get some great shots with the camera. At last we reach our car. Soaked through, even underwear wet, beginning to shiver but feeling exhilarated!