Part Duvet....The Cult of the flying Muttergappa
So after a rather nasty bit of fairly lucrative work .. We continue on our sojourn across the partly ruined hills of Coorg. Returning "home stay" in the evening, a few of our "less experienced" numbers declined further association with the automobile.. citing a desire for increasing the circulation and taking in the fresh air. So parking the car, catching 10 winks, (or till page 24 of the Kafka) and some left over coffee we decided we had enough of the town, and the women had particular objections to the lemon yellow walls and a certain lack of wildlife in the neighbourhood (no sir.. none of that domesticated cattle from the dairy for this lot!) hence a democratic meeting was called... the majority (that would be V and the Karate Kid and yours truly) to figure out an exit option.
Luckily one dude had retired and the other Kid was a bit shaken and stirred AND Cool Punit Guide (CPG) had offered his services. So after a quick inspection of the gear, the next day's plans were settled..we would goto Tandyindamol, the highest peak in Coorg (a princely height of 1700 odd meters - whats with the names..has no one heard of single digit syllables??).
Provisions were needed and we hit the first English speaking shop to avoid losses in translation... the purchase included food, mosquito coil, repellent, water and a couple of bedsheets - third party linen being unpalatable. The dinner was a fiasco - this restaurant we went to obviously hadn't heard of the famed Coorg hospitality.. promptly locked the restaurant from the inside (and worse they had a bar with no bar stools). so we beat an un hasty retreat to a place called Atithi which dishes out South Indian versions of north Indian food - spicy and palatable. Plus they are open late. So after the dinner and a round or two of ice cream, we retired for the night. Morning saw a sugar dash (a dash for sugar for the coffee) accompanied by a running commentary on the local fauna subset ornithology by you-know-who. However, the heat kicking in we dived into a sumptuous breakfast of bread, eggs and coffee. In a couple of hours. CPG dropped the Bomb... his dirt bike had poor mileage so he would like to accompany us in the Korean Sub-compact.
Now Koreans are people of a somewhat slight build and being a rich country, they build cars to seat 4..this one had to fit in 6 Indians of varying girth. However, conservatism triumphed (much to the relief of some of the others) and The Kid decided to take up v's offer of a lap in the front seat.. occasionally ducking to watch out for the cops..(this is what I don't understand.. it is OK to plonk a kid on the front seat and use it as an airbag???)
However, 4 liters of fuel later we arrived at base parking and started out on the journey with flavoured lemon yellow rice sprinkled with peanuts (for lunch that is).
Now that was a lunch with a view... old rain forest, birds chirping (and a couple of lovebirds into a decidedly heated argument about nesting material - fortunately one was armed to the teeth and promised great entertainment).
Too much food took its toll and we restarted the climb to base camp. .. on a rather slow note. At some point someone swore and as expected the higher powers took offence and blesses us with a deluge.. soaking followed.. clothes, sleeping bags, food, and worse of all..matches. Eventually the downpour slowed (or so we thought ...ha ha) and the subsequent walk to the base camp (Rock +
stream) was on the open hillside i.e. sans trees, and the rain felt like someone was driving very cold pins into your face! However, the rain finally stopped and we did reach the camp site..while CPG went about the business of campsites (did I mention this was a luxurious trip), we busied ourselves with the task at hand - drying clothes and matches, not necessarily in that order. Several rounds of firewood collection happened, some fallen tree branches, some chopped dead trees. The matches were a write off and CPG dashed off some 8kms to organise some extra fuel and matchboxes.
While the young CPG was away (after having disposed off a rather poisonous spider), we all clambered atop THE rock and what do we spot what the Karate Kid described as a "Muttergappas" or that's what it sounded like. The Muttergappa in question was an 8 inch, jet black, aggressive looking and rather beautiful (in a very armament sort of way..like you would find an AK47 beautiful while staring down the business end of the gun) scorpion. While all were fascinated by the MG, no one really wanted to tackle the bloke
(or babe..were too far to figure out.. even Karate Kid's intimate knowledge of mother nature wasn't of help in countering this particular menace)!! So we did the ostrich..if we ignore it...maybe it will go away.. However, CPG returned, wood was piled and with a healthy helping of old newspaper and blue dye kerosene and usual tips from expert campers, we had a roaring fire going..man in that damp t-shirt, it felt sooo good!
At this point I discovered the leach..little bugger, growing fat on unsolicited feeding. However CPG to the rescue, nearly cost me a shoe and a foot after the lit match neatly dropped into my Adidas! Having settled that, the Dinner was sumptuous, campfire grilled chicken with lime, roasted potatoes, and for the city slickers, cheese spread, jam, bun, grape and oranges.
Like I said this was a luxurious trip.. and the luxury continued with an impromptu massage session by CPG.. who promptly declared everyone was tense and needed a massage (no one complained - though as return favour, karate kid - having been renamed Muttergappa, offered an exhibition match which The CPG hummed and hawed away). However, after a community sox drying session (this involves a bamboo reed broken 2/3rd of the way through, sox are dangled on this and plonked in front of the camp fire, held aloft by two people...photos will follow)..and having demolished the last of the potatoes, the w
omen retired to the green tent (actually made a feverish dash for it lest they not get appropriate place... ha ha .. it leaked...through the night) and the men retired to the blue tent (which was naturally ventilated ...from the top!!). The night was uneventful ..the real mutterguppa having departed to some other rock. THe same cannot be said for CPG. Apparently the stereophonic snoring emanating from the green tent (this would be the Kid and the Muttergappa) scared the living day lights out of him and poor man was up at 4 in the morning! At which point the Muttergappa decided to do what mutter gappas do in the morning... with a bottle of CPG's home filtered water no less... I did say this was a luxurious excursion :-)
additions and edits to follow...... peace!
So after a rather nasty bit of fairly lucrative work .. We continue on our sojourn across the partly ruined hills of Coorg. Returning "home stay" in the evening, a few of our "less experienced" numbers declined further association with the automobile.. citing a desire for increasing the circulation and taking in the fresh air. So parking the car, catching 10 winks, (or till page 24 of the Kafka) and some left over coffee we decided we had enough of the town, and the women had particular objections to the lemon yellow walls and a certain lack of wildlife in the neighbourhood (no sir.. none of that domesticated cattle from the dairy for this lot!) hence a democratic meeting was called... the majority (that would be V and the Karate Kid and yours truly) to figure out an exit option.
Luckily one dude had retired and the other Kid was a bit shaken and stirred AND Cool Punit Guide (CPG) had offered his services. So after a quick inspection of the gear, the next day's plans were settled..we would goto Tandyindamol, the highest peak in Coorg (a princely height of 1700 odd meters - whats with the names..has no one heard of single digit syllables??).
Provisions were needed and we hit the first English speaking shop to avoid losses in translation... the purchase included food, mosquito coil, repellent, water and a couple of bedsheets - third party linen being unpalatable. The dinner was a fiasco - this restaurant we went to obviously hadn't heard of the famed Coorg hospitality.. promptly locked the restaurant from the inside (and worse they had a bar with no bar stools). so we beat an un hasty retreat to a place called Atithi which dishes out South Indian versions of north Indian food - spicy and palatable. Plus they are open late. So after the dinner and a round or two of ice cream, we retired for the night. Morning saw a sugar dash (a dash for sugar for the coffee) accompanied by a running commentary on the local fauna subset ornithology by you-know-who. However, the heat kicking in we dived into a sumptuous breakfast of bread, eggs and coffee. In a couple of hours. CPG dropped the Bomb... his dirt bike had poor mileage so he would like to accompany us in the Korean Sub-compact.
Now Koreans are people of a somewhat slight build and being a rich country, they build cars to seat 4..this one had to fit in 6 Indians of varying girth. However, conservatism triumphed (much to the relief of some of the others) and The Kid decided to take up v's offer of a lap in the front seat.. occasionally ducking to watch out for the cops..(this is what I don't understand.. it is OK to plonk a kid on the front seat and use it as an airbag???)
However, 4 liters of fuel later we arrived at base parking and started out on the journey with flavoured lemon yellow rice sprinkled with peanuts (for lunch that is).
Now that was a lunch with a view... old rain forest, birds chirping (and a couple of lovebirds into a decidedly heated argument about nesting material - fortunately one was armed to the teeth and promised great entertainment).
Too much food took its toll and we restarted the climb to base camp. .. on a rather slow note. At some point someone swore and as expected the higher powers took offence and blesses us with a deluge.. soaking followed.. clothes, sleeping bags, food, and worse of all..matches. Eventually the downpour slowed (or so we thought ...ha ha) and the subsequent walk to the base camp (Rock +
stream) was on the open hillside i.e. sans trees, and the rain felt like someone was driving very cold pins into your face! However, the rain finally stopped and we did reach the camp site..while CPG went about the business of campsites (did I mention this was a luxurious trip), we busied ourselves with the task at hand - drying clothes and matches, not necessarily in that order. Several rounds of firewood collection happened, some fallen tree branches, some chopped dead trees. The matches were a write off and CPG dashed off some 8kms to organise some extra fuel and matchboxes.While the young CPG was away (after having disposed off a rather poisonous spider), we all clambered atop THE rock and what do we spot what the Karate Kid described as a "Muttergappas" or that's what it sounded like. The Muttergappa in question was an 8 inch, jet black, aggressive looking and rather beautiful (in a very armament sort of way..like you would find an AK47 beautiful while staring down the business end of the gun) scorpion. While all were fascinated by the MG, no one really wanted to tackle the bloke
(or babe..were too far to figure out.. even Karate Kid's intimate knowledge of mother nature wasn't of help in countering this particular menace)!! So we did the ostrich..if we ignore it...maybe it will go away.. However, CPG returned, wood was piled and with a healthy helping of old newspaper and blue dye kerosene and usual tips from expert campers, we had a roaring fire going..man in that damp t-shirt, it felt sooo good!At this point I discovered the leach..little bugger, growing fat on unsolicited feeding. However CPG to the rescue, nearly cost me a shoe and a foot after the lit match neatly dropped into my Adidas! Having settled that, the Dinner was sumptuous, campfire grilled chicken with lime, roasted potatoes, and for the city slickers, cheese spread, jam, bun, grape and oranges.
Like I said this was a luxurious trip.. and the luxury continued with an impromptu massage session by CPG.. who promptly declared everyone was tense and needed a massage (no one complained - though as return favour, karate kid - having been renamed Muttergappa, offered an exhibition match which The CPG hummed and hawed away). However, after a community sox drying session (this involves a bamboo reed broken 2/3rd of the way through, sox are dangled on this and plonked in front of the camp fire, held aloft by two people...photos will follow)..and having demolished the last of the potatoes, the w
omen retired to the green tent (actually made a feverish dash for it lest they not get appropriate place... ha ha .. it leaked...through the night) and the men retired to the blue tent (which was naturally ventilated ...from the top!!). The night was uneventful ..the real mutterguppa having departed to some other rock. THe same cannot be said for CPG. Apparently the stereophonic snoring emanating from the green tent (this would be the Kid and the Muttergappa) scared the living day lights out of him and poor man was up at 4 in the morning! At which point the Muttergappa decided to do what mutter gappas do in the morning... with a bottle of CPG's home filtered water no less... I did say this was a luxurious excursion :-)additions and edits to follow...... peace!
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