A green retreat

A green retreat

When you enter the Botanical Garden in Ooty that was established in 1848 and is home to numerous varieties of ornamental trees and plants, initially your eyes encounter what they expect — vast, uncluttered spread of colourful blossoms and foliage flaunting countless shades of green. But as you start treading the carefully constructed paths that wind upwards, along with several cohorts of tourists, both adults and children, the garden reveals its true identity as a forest, replete with ageless towering trees, eucalyptus, deodars and more, nestling secrets in their deeply-lined trunks; absolute silence which even birds don’t dare to breach; and a sense of unnameable danger.

You are tired, edgy, but you cannot stop yourself from climbing higher up the wooded hills, via steps or slopes, in the spell of the dense forests. Looking down, you see rows of trees in reverential, eternal waiting. There are canopies after every stretch of climb, to rest your wearied limbs, inhale the fresh hilly air and let your computer-scratched eyes guzzle the green, muse on life, death and all between, and resume the upward trek.
Finally, at a particular point, when I sight a Kali temple, close to the top, where a cow and a hen are mysteriously interacting, I call it quits, not trusting my legs, and head downwards through other mud-orange paths in the hushed silence of the forest, purified by this contact with nature’s grandeur.

For any Indian seeking a getaway from the cacophony and crowds of a metro, topped by unfriendly weather, Ooty is a haven — pleasantly cold weather, moderately developed infrastructure, a variety of food outlets, and above all, greenery everywhere.

As the small town flashed into view, at the tail end of my three-hour-long journey by car from Coimbatore, my heart jolted. Too many cottages of all hues haphazardly grafted onto the verdant, mist-turbanned hills in the distance, indicating dense human habitation and its fearful corollary — noise. However, as I checked into the hilltop resort, my misgivings were put to rest. Apart from diverse sounds of different machinery, which an upmarket hotel cannot function without, I could enjoy naturespeak, waking up to the unadulterated twitter of birds.

Ooty, like many other hill stations, can be ‘done’ in two days, meaning all its sightseeing-worthy spots covered, but if you stay longer as I did, you won’t be disappointed. For the soothing presence of tall silent trees everywhere, the cool climate and Ooty’s peaceful people — a mix of Tamilians (dominant), Kannadigas, Malayalis, Badagas and Todas (the original tribal inhabitants of the place who now are in a minority), living together in amity just as churches, masjids and temples mingle in the town’s landscape, make Ooty a restful place where the mind and body can relax and rejuvenate.

The main street, Commercial Street, an approximately 1 km stretch, that is lined on both sides by eateries and shops selling woollens, homemade chocolates, gifts, various medicinal herbs and oils, jostles with enough people to give it verve and buoyancy without getting on one’s nerves.

In the evenings, I invariably stepped into the commodious ever-bustling-with-customers and moderately-priced Adyar Anand Bhuvan on Commercial Street and devoured hot Appams. For dinner, I chose Shinkow’s kitchen. Started in 1952 by Chinese immigrant Shinkow, it serves up the most sumptuous, delicious Chinese food in a neat, no-frills dining space with a picture of its founder on the wall and an endorsement by Amitabh Bachchan hanging below the same.

I took my walk-weary feet to places of tourist interest also — Ooty Lake which is a green stretch with regulation boating facilities, Thread Garden (an artificial embroidery display created by hand using threads, over 12 years), Wax Museum and Tea Factory, which is the highest tea factory in South India. However, the real heart-stealer is Doddabetta Peak, crowning the highest mountain in Nilgiri at 8,650 ft, located 9 km from Ooty on the Ooty-Kotagiri Road and surrounded by a reserved forest area.

But along with these, Ooty bares the fault-lines of most of India’s tourist destinations – lack of finesse in facilities offered, badly maintained access roads to tourist spots and sub-standard toilets, inefficient garbage disposal, and high levels of noise. With a little more attention, these gaps can be closed. However, warts and all, Ooty still remains a paradise for metro animals like myself.

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