Ooty - continued

Post train ride I thought maybe Ooty had 'peaked' but the following morning an auto (tuk tuk) jolting journey up the sheer forest slope to Doddabetta Peak offered yet more opportunities for awesome views and absorbing experiences.

The trip went as follows:
1. Negotiate amount.  Still not easy but it's getting easier with practice: I shall be bartering in Lewes without thinking on my return if I'm not careful.
2. Be terrified as ancient auto fails on hairpin bends, whereupon we slip slowly backwards down the hill until a flat ish section allows another 'run'.
3. Discover the stupendous vista at the highest peak of the Nilgiri hills and at 2623 the highest in south India, lying at the junction between western and Eastern Ghats.

Luckily I arrived in what turned out to be a fleeting moment between the mist and cloud as no sooner had I gawped in wonder at the valleys below then they vanished in swathes of white wisps.

Facts and Figures

View from Doddabetta before the mist descended

Who pinched the view?

An hour or so passed pleasantly bonding with others waiting for further glimpses, including meeting again by chance the honeymoon couple from Mumbai who had sat next to me on the train yesterday. Several cups of chai to take the chill away and a few more sudden sunshine breaks revealing the gorgeous Ghats and it was time to take my life in my hands and go back down.

My trusty transport - Auto Rickshaws struggle with the hills

Next stop on my negotiated itinerary was the Tea factory. This working plant allows visitors to follow the tea process from start to finish, surprisingly entrancing.  The tantalising smell was rewarded by free tea tasting at the end. Though as each blend was made milky and sweet I have no idea what the tea actually tasted like.
By now I had a yen to walk around an actual tea plantation. Revived by yet more tea and rich Indian cakes (my body must now be 90% sugar) I negotiated a trip back out into the hills.  Rather dubiously. But this driver was as good as his word, pulling his tuk tuk safely off the road and taking me on a tour of a local plantation along tiny paths criss crossing the lush green leafy bushes. The valley sides are lined with carpets of tea bushes or with terraces of market gardens, crops of carrots and cauliflower sold by the roadside at every turn.

Inside the Tea Factory - gorgeous smell

Me in the Tea Plantation

Tea one side, Vegetable garden on the other

So, armed with a working knowledge of the area from my tuk tuk outings, today I ventured out by bus to 'Valley View', a well known beauty spot. Half an hour out of the city and 5 rupees (5 pence) poorer -I cannot get used to how cheap everything is here-I was directed off the bus and  found myself alone by the side of a winding mountain road gazing out over what was indeed a magnificent valley view. Apparently one of the largest valleys in the world, although the habit of hyperbole is deep here.

The hillside above me was dotted with colourful temple guardian 'statues' so I began to climb, figuring figures lead to a temple. And I kept climbing....  Good job I'm used to hills. The strain on my hip was a worry but I hate being beaten. But there was a footpath with occasional steps carved into the side, just like being at home and heading up Kingston hill so I reckoned (hoped) there would be a destination.

My perseverance paid off. Hidden from outside, the path suddenly vanished into a cave in the rock face concealed by foliage. Inside was the temple where a holy man sat in solitary splendor waiting for visitors.  As I lurked outside the sound of women's voices announced the arrival of a local family coming to be blessed. They ushered me in with smiles, where for 10 rupees I was duly annointed, my forehead painted in red, yellow and white stripes and my hair covered in flowers.

I was then taken by the hand and escorted deep down into a lower cave where a further temple lay. These four local women, with no English but much laughter and sign language walked me through their daily ritual with genuine friendship. Their hands clasped mine to ensure I clambered safely back to the outside world before, with warm waves goodbye, they skipped barefoot back down the sheer slope, leaving me to gingerly slip and slide ungracefully to the bottom

Returning by bus I was touched to find men standing to offer me a seat, one of which I took gratefully as the crowded swaying vehicle lurched its painstaking way back down the rutted road to Ooty. The bus had seen better days, the driver had to take both hands of the wheel to force the gear lever,  I've been on  smoother rollercoasters and I alighted with a sigh of relief when we finally made it back.

Ooty is a true treasure, an oasis high above the rest of South India.  Only one more day of cool mountain air and breathtaking views before I will have to head back down from this restorative retreat. Oh, it 's wonderful up here!