Again I have the wrong clothes, one of the weirdest massages ever and, oh yeah, I saw a tiger!!!!, Kabini River Lodge, September 19, 2008

Story of my life. For someone who hates being cold I never end up with the proper clothing when I travel. I just blissfully think that where ever I go will be warm. Why would I choose to go someplace cold when I hate the cold??? That’s crazy right?

Normally it’s not so bad. An excuse to shop, really. Hard to do though when you’re in an Indian national wildlife refuge, owned by the government of Karnataka (the state I’m in) and one of the few places that has not succumbed to commercialism. So unfortunately, there are no “I saw a tiger in the wild and lived to tell about it” sweat shirts for sale in the gift shop (in fact there’s no gift shop). Looks like I’ll be in the same pair of denim capris and Ashtanga Yoga Research Institute sweatshirt (which I actually brought to sleep in) for 3 days. Oh well, who do I have to impress?

So, where is this haven of non-commerciality? Kabini River Lodge, where the Maharaja of Mysore used to come to hunt, is now one of the leaders in eco tourism in the world. Kabini is at the edge of Nargahole National Wildlife Reserve. I didn’t know a lot about Nargahole until I saw a doco they showed before dinner (which was served at 8:30! Wayyy to late for this yoga student.)

Nargahole has been protected since the 1970’s and is a model of wildlife conservation. They have one of, if not the largest numbers of tiger populations in the wild. That bodes well for the entire eco system since the tiger is at the top of that.

There are 3 things to do at Kabini: see wildlife (there are two safaris a day), have a treatment as the ayurvedic spa (one of the weirdest massages ever...see below) and rest (I actually took one of the very few naps in my life here this afternoon.)

I arrived this morning around 10:30, driven as usual in an old Ambassador (is there any other kind?) Ganesh’s driver was, as usual, courteous, safe and without very much command of the English language. He was very nice and tried to point out landmarks along the way, but all I really got was the identification of a sporting field at Mysore University (which I could have figured out myself by the appearance of what I was looking at and the sign above it saying “Mysore University”.) He did manage to communicate that the road we were on for the last 10 kilometers was the old road (to say the least, there were more holes than road) and that the new road was “black”. I’m still trying to figure that one out.

When I arrived there was the usual Indian flurry and conferring amongst several individuals. I knew right away they didn’t have my reservation (luckily I managed to keep track of and remember to bring with me the booking slip I got from Seagull Travel when I paid for my room) but they never told me that. They gave me several stories including that the previous guest had not checked out (when it was obvious they were far from full). I figured I’d be okay because they were so empty so I went to the restaurant to get a chai while they figured it out. To compensate for my inconvenience they gave me a huge room in the Maharaja’s bungalow itself. Newly renovated and quite nice.

After I’d settled in I decided that I’d quite like to treat myself to a massage. I’ve had 2 ayurvedic massages in the past and they’ve both been pretty weird. This one was no different but had the added angle of being highly uncomfortable since I was laying on a big wooden table with absolutely no padding. Even the Three Sisters (see previous post) had a rubber mat on their garage floor (the door of which being secured by a fork). This had nothing, nadda, zip. I have an extremely protruding tail bone, so needless to say it was not comfortable whilst on my back. My front was not much better since they made me lay with my chin on a vinyl cushion and not turn it to one side. I thought I’d developed lock jaw after being in that position for 1/2 hour.

The massage itself was okay. Two women worked on my simultaneously. It seems the object of this type of treatment is to pour as much oil on me as they possibly could and to rub me in long sweeping motions as vigorously as possible. It was more for circulation than muscle tension relief. They were going at it so vigorously in fact that my g string (useless thing that that is) came loose several times and they had to keep tying it (why they bothered is beyond me since they were now familiar with every other inch of me.

To make matters worse I could barely hear myself think because the guy in reception had the TV on as loudly as possible so he could get the latest breaking coverage of the bomb blasts in Delhi. More bomb blasts in Delhi (yawn).

Something must have worked though, I was actually able to fall asleep as I lay down to nap.

Then at 3:30 I went back to the restaurant for my first safari. I’ll let the pictures tell the story. Lots of deer, monkeys, peacocks, a few wild boar and just before we left the park the jeep came to a screeching halt! The guide jumped out and wildly exclaimed tiger, tiger, tiger! About 300 meters away we saw a shape walking along the far side of the river. All we could really make out without binoculars was that the shape was orange. With the binocs we could clearly see...tiger! He (for the guide said this was a male) had the courtesy to lay down for use to watch him for about 15 minutes before he got up and strode back the way he came.

Even though Nargahole has one of the largest populations of tigers they are still a rare sight as they keep to themselves. The doco described them as ghosts. I felt quite lucky and awe inspired to see this majestic beast in its natural habitat. Long may he remain there!