Jim Corbett National Park, Uttarakhand, India
by Shweta Bhardwaj
A trip to Jim Corbett National Park in the Nainital district of Uttarakhand, India, changed me. I learned to identify the sounds of birds around me and every day when I got up in the mornings, I could distinguish the sounds of an Eagle from a Parrot, a Pigeon from a Myna and a Bulbul from a Crow- almost all the birds chirping in the area. To my surprise I also started noticing the presence of fauna and flora around me!
Initially established as Hailey National Park in 1936 to protect the Bengal Tiger, Corbett forest and jungle are home to many different other species of fauna. A heaven for bird enthusiasts. It is also one of the best bird watching area in India. Surrounded with different habitat types: mountains, saal trees, grassland, it has a splendid landscape and a diverse wildlife. In 1956 this national park was renamed after Colonel Jim Corbett, who is considered the ‘missionary of wildlife conservation in India’. This oldest national park in India has following major zones: Bijrani, Dhikala, Durga Devi, Jhirna and Sitabani. This park was the first to come under the Project Tiger initiative in India.
We reached our resort in the afternoon and planned on having a walk inside the forest in the buffer zone but we weren’t brave enough to venture out alone, and waited for the Naturalist that the resort provided. As I walked on the dead leaf bed of the Teak plants spread all around me, and looked at the foot prints of the elephants and pug marks of the tiger I realized that I was actually walking in the woods. The crisp sound of large dry teak leaves in the otherwise silent forest made me feel edgy for a while. As I walked on the same path where a tiger had passed hours ago I worried that perhaps the beast might be sitting nearby, watching.
This was the magical influence of my jungle trip where I learned to spot different species of flora and fauna, very rare, yet particular to different zones and seasons. It was one of the highlights of my trip. The experience of observing nature from so close left a mark on me. I became more conscious of natural life around me.
Like any other jungle safaris, this was a unique trip. Sighting a tuskar (a mast elephant) gorgeous peacocks, finding tiger spoor marks, seeing Long Hornbills, all these made me realize how mysterious and beautiful nature is. What I realized at Jim Corbett is that Jungle Safari is not just about spotting a tiger, it is also about experiencing and discovering the jungle itself. Its air, rough scenic beauty, sounds, taste and not to forget the ‘fearful feel’!! Yes! Walking in the woods, not knowing what will come from behind or what will pounce, what you can capture in your camera or spot with your binocular, all this gives you a different kind of thrill.
While on the Safari Walk we spotted an elephant herd across a dry river. To give them their space and quiet we had to softly move back into the forest on our side of the river bed, so that we did not disturb them. Once we walked on the same path where a tiger had walked a few hours or may be a days earlier. We saw fresh tiger pug (spoor) marks early in the morning and our guide told us that the tiger had recently been there and had walked towards a particular direction. Our guide was able to tell us what the tiger ate last when it passed through that particular area by finding a dear nail, small bones or animal hair particle in a dried tiger faecal matter. Identifying the foul smell in that area (called the smell of tiger kill), looking at pug marks, listening to tiger roar or a sambhar or monkey call are all tell-tale signs of a tiger presence nearby.
Our naturalist, who led our walk, was an expert and made sure that we returned back to the resort on time before dark. We took a two and a half hour walk in the jungle that day. The elephant herd that I mentioned in the above paragraph was spotted during this walk only. They were unaware of us and were busy grazing in the trees. Watching them from so close was worth taking that walk. The resort that we stayed at was inside the buffer zone and daily past midnight we could hear calls and tiger roars, as if the tiger wanted to remind us that it was nearby. Very diligently, all tourist activities are generally stopped after 6:30 pm as the animals, especially the flesh eating animals become active after dark. The retreat’s fences were also solar electric so that tigers or any other wild animal do not venture inside the resort or other human habitation nearby. Spotting huge tiger pug marks (sometimes male and sometime female) early in the morning was our favourite daily activity during our stay there and was proof enough that this beautiful beast did come near during the night.
This was a three day stay in the buffer zone area of the park, and each day it was a different adventure. Day One began at Sitabani.
Sitabani like other four zones (namely Durga Devi, Bijrani, Dhikala, & Jhirna) is a major zone of the Jim Corbett National Park. It was the drive to Sitabani that triggered my interest in birds and for the first time, I took notice of the tiny creatures chirping and hopping all around and on trees.
On our way to and fro from Sitabani I captured many birds in my camera: a purple Sun Bird, ducks, woodpeckers, sandpipers and peacocks and hence started the affair with bird watching at Jim Corbett. The entire 40 kilometer stretch from Ramnagar to Sitabani had lots of trees on both sides and a river stream. It is a ‘tarai area’ (hilly area) as well so it was quite scenic.
The next day we left on a Jeep safari to Durga Devi and a later canter safari to Dhikala. Here we saw barking deer, spotted deer, Golden Mahseer (Indian salmon), various birds like Yellow Red Great Barbet, amazing views and not to forget Tiger pug marks — lots of them! By this time we had learned to identify them whether it was a male or a female. Lots of fresh elephant foot marks as well. Durga Devi safari zone was more moist and has deciduous flora. One time during the day the sun rays came filtered from tall trees as if it is being sieved through the leaves giving different colours to the rays. This was an amazing trick of nature and the most memorable one for me. I can still see sun rays trickling through the huge trees when I close my eyes. During this safari we managed to see a few of very rare species of birds and then in the afternoon we took the canter ride to Dhikala. Here the grassland like habitat was totally different from where we had been in the morning.
We spotted lots of deer, sambhars, elephants in herds at both Durgadevi and Dhikala but the highlight of this day was something else that we encountered at the highway. A one toothed mast Tuskar on the road very near to Dhikala zone. Taking picture of this huge mast elephant while it charged at the vehicles (including ours) was one wildlife experience that I won’t forget. I actually got terrified as it came very near to our jeep while charging. With a heartbeat pacing at the speed of a bullet train, I started shouting loud, not knowing what would happen next. The driver was prudent enough to move the jeep away on time. Otherwise the person sitting at the back (for that matter our entire jeep) would have surely been subjected to elephant’s anger.
We realized the fatigue only when we reached the resort back in the evening. After a tasty dinner we again fell on our beds, only to be awake at 3: 30 am again the next morning. Today we were going to Jhirna on Jeep safari. The highlight of this day for me was taking pictures of the ever beautiful peacocks from very close, on a dry river bed.
Later we sat inside a cemented ‘machaan’ like small enclosure which was situated right on top of the hill from where you could see the other side of the jungle bordering the river stream. We sat there patiently with our guide with the intention of spotting a Tiger. We spent at least an hour there but all we could hear was the tiger growls. The roar suggested that there were two of them walking towards the thick jungle uphill. The jungle, loud with the sound of the wind, chirping of birds, sound of other animals like monkeys and deer would immediately become silent every time there was a tiger growl. I could sense the tension in the area.
The view from where we sat and waited for the tiger was beautiful, with sun rays falling on the stream. Although during this trip we could not spot any tiger we were lucky enough to enjoy and discover more about the habitat of the jungle. A habitat, which in spite of being sometimes rugged and cruel with its own set of rules, tells that man is still an outsider when it comes to the animal world, “the dense forest.”
If You Go:
♦ India’s oldest tiger reserve, Jim Corbett National Park is situated in the state of Uttarakhand, Northern India.
♦ Ramnagar is the closest town to this park and is well connected via road to New Delhi. One can take a taxi or drive down for approximately six hours from Delhi.
Private Golden Triangle Tour with Ranthambore Tiger Reserve from Delhi
About the author:
Shweta is an HR professional and a blogger, currently working as a freelance travel writer. She loves to write about places that she visits, people that she meets and everyday things that touch her. She has a travel blog at www.travel-lanes.blogspot.in.
Photo credits:
Sambar Deer in Jim Corbet National Park by Pediddle under the Creative Commons Attribution 3.0 License.
All other photos are by Shweta Bhardwaj:
Pack of Deer at Dhikala
One of the beautiful peacock that were there on the dry river bed at Jhirna
Kingfisher on a dry river bed
A bird
A one-toothed mast Tuskar spotted on the road very near to Dhikala zone
As I walked through the streets of the ancient city a resting group of riot policemen posed for a candid picture. This was a time when civil war was on the mountain kingdom’s doorstep. Every day rioting took place in the capital of Kathmandu. It looked as though the country was about to self-destruct.
I think a lot about those sites now. My hotel was close to Durbar Square in Katmandu – being only a brisk 10 minute walk in the cold December morning air. The first morning I arrived just as the hawkers were setting out their antiques and replicas for sale on large tarps in the outskirts of the square. Many invited me to bring them good luck by being their first sale of the day. As I walked around the square it was like stepping back hundreds of years. Beautiful temples washed in a deep red pigment paint and tile roofs in deep burnt umbra color above gave it a true organic feel. The early morning air was impregnated with the rich smells of temple incense and fresh cut flowers as the first orange colored beams of sunlight took the chill away. Ladies, dressed in traditional colorful mountain village clothes, sat on large plastic mats selling strings of brightly colored marigolds formed into necklaces and headbands.
In the afternoon we traveled to the Hindu temple of Pashupatinath. As we came around a corner onto a stone carved staircase and ashram there he sat. I can never forget that moment – the thousand mile stare of the Sadu as he looked through me as if I wasn’t there. With his legs crossed in a yoga pose, he was looking over the ceremonies on the other side of the river. Here the recently departed were being bathed in the holy water from the Bagmati River, dressed in colorful silk and placed on carefully stacked wood funeral pyres for their cremation. The holy man did not blink, move, or change any expression. It all seemed surreal me – like I was in a dream. Here I was in the holiest of Hindu temples in Kathmandu, Nepal. A week earlier on my flight to India I had not even planned to visit Nepal as part of my tour. It was close enough to my destination of Varanasi, in eastern India, that the tour company had recommended it as a side excursion during my month long road trip.
Along the streets of the old city, mixed with temples, were the fruit and vegetable sellers. Everything looked freshly picked even though the temperatures dipped below freezing at night time. Spices were overflowing out of huge containers – cumin, turmeric, and curries. The air had the smell of fragrant local food from the small portable stalls that sold all kinds of savory items. It was a feeling of being alive in those streets – excitement, anticipation, exotic smells and tastes.
I had never been to a wedding in Nepal, and it seemed obvious they were happy to have us. After all I was the only white person there – so maybe it was a sign of good fortune for them as I was not an invited guest. Part of our plan had been to have dinner at the night market, so we were very hungry. In the main area under a tented roof was seating for 1000 or more. At the front was a huge buffet with a wonderful assortment of food. We helped ourselves to a sampling of many items on the 30 foot long table. Part way through eating our dinner, a line formed beside us – it was the families of the bride and groom getting in line for dinner. We realized that we had really crashed the wedding in style! The family members smiled and greeted us as they moved past. Now Ali was really desperate to leave. I suggested after dessert would be a perfect time to head back to the hotel. On our way out I thanked the bride and groom and took pictures with them. They seemed to be very happy with our chance meeting.
by Anne Harrison
Yet to discover the true town, I had to be brave and run the gauntlet. Passing through the chaos I wondered if this was where the belly of the dragon had scalded the land. It certainly seems so. Or perhaps his fiery breath so scorched the earth nothing of beauty could grow.
Further up the hill, some half hour from the port, a tiny laneway opened onto the local market, which had been somehow hidden from view despite its size. Once inside it felt totally chaotic, but with a mood completely opposite to the turmoil down by the water. With the stalls run largely by women (for the men are down by the port, scamming tourists), the place is roughly divided into sections: clothes, hardware, household items, fresh fruit and vegetables, then a wet market which stretches forever. The range of seafood is incredible – and largely unrecognizable.
Nourished and refreshed, we headed back to the water. After all, this is why people come to Halong Bay. The afternoon began in a whirl of noise exploring the islands on a boat about the size of the African Queen, and about as sea-worthy. A trip amongst the islands is a rather crowded affair, but by now I had adapted to the chaos. Standing on the bow, I enjoyed the spectacle as our boat assumed ramming speed to gain prime position at any mooring. With all the boats covered with old tires, the moorings resound to the thuds of collisions, and the creak of wood as the boats jostled among themselves.
The first stop was Thien Cung Grotto – or Palace of Heaven. After climbing some 100 steps, a crowd of us went along a dark tunnel to the cave proper. Some hold this is the actual cave where the dragon sought refuge. It was simply huge. Neon lights of all colors highlighted the various formations: a dragon with a small man riding his back, elsewhere a pair of angel wings. Small rivulets ran down the stones and into vast chasms of nothingness. A dragon could easily live here – as could dwarves or a horde of orcs. There was a perfect cave for Gollum.
I sat in the bow of our boat as it potted among the islands. Each one, it seems, has a name such as Island of The Two Hens or Tea Pot Island. Many caves open straight onto the water as the islands rise straight form the sea to tower over everything, their tops covered with lush vegetation. The Surprise Cave was not discovered until 1901, and was used by the Viet Cong as a hide-out. At Ba Hung Cave, featured in the movie Indochine, a small grotto opens onto a lagoon inside the island, surrounded by walls of steep jungle.
To help my travels go smoothly, I invited my hotel assistant manager as a guide for fourteen of those days. She met up with us in 
Fog obscured the sunlight, making it hard to understand where the boundaries of the dead calm lake met the surrounding shoreline. Our first stop along the way was to observe the local fisherman. The men stand at the back of their shallow skiffs and use one leg and foot to paddle the boat while balancing on the other. Setting their unique horn style fluted woven nets – they wait patiently for lake carp to fill them. It was fascinating to watch them – so incredibly agile. As we headed further down the lake, the grey wall of fog started to glow a beautiful golden color. The sun had risen above the mountains and was spreading its warmth across the lake. By late morning we had arrived at the far end of the lake where the market was being held in Palaung Village. Boats, similar to ours, lined the shore and spread out ten deep into the channel. To get to the shore we had to jump from one teetering boat to another, with the feeling at any moment they would capsize and throw us into the murky water.
The market was a combination of local food and crafts. We stayed for lunch, eating a local gourmet treat from the lake. The popular fish dish, htamin gyin, is incredibly tasty. After finishing the first plate all too soon, I had to order another helping. With our appetites satisfied, we located our captain in the quagmire of boats and headed off towards the west side of the lake. We were searching for the high-light of the day long trip.
Mid-afternoon we approached a waterway full of small huts. Our captain pulled over to one of the stilted huts, suspended above the water and my guide indicated we had arrived. A little stunned from the intense mid-afternoon sun – I was not sure where we had arrived, until I lifted my head and saw the ladies above us. Looking out of a bamboo framed window, two Long Neck women waved at me. Not believing my eyes, I wondered for a brief moment if this was a dream? This was why I had traveled half way around the world! The women were friendly and proud of their brass rings that appeared to elongate their necks high above their shoulders. They were selling crafts and doing traditional weaving inside the hut. Full of smiles and agreeing to pose for photographs, it was the best outcome I could have hoped for.
After our visit we had just enough time to visit an ancient site of stupas, dating back to 13th and 14th centuries, on the west side of the lake near Inndain Kone Village. The sun was setting as we reached the top of the hill to see the crumbling stupas bathed in warm evening light. This had been a day with as many rewards as I had hoped for in a whole trip. The air rapidly cooled, as we sat huddled in our boat, racing back in the dwindling twilight, towards the town where we had started from early that morning. As we headed up the canal in almost complete darkness the motor on our boat sputtered. Our speed dropped immediately and the captain steered towards the thick reed lined shore. We had run out of gas. Boats raced past us at full speed up the channel. I was relieved we were not a sitting duck out in the middle in the inky darkness. After 20 minutes the captain successfully signal to a passing boat for help. Throwing a rope to our rescuers, we were towed back home. Exhausted, but at the same time elated, I treated everyone to a beer at the local bar to celebrate a wonderful day of success!
by Lawrence Hamilton
Leaving Australia and returning to China meant being away from the allures of Chimay Blue and the latest in Pacific Northwest IPA’s, I guessed that being force fed the Chinese equivalent of Budweiser for 2 1/2 months would at least force me into some sort of limited sobriety. The only thing worse than being sober, is being drunk on Chinese alcohol, or so I thought.
A small shopping centre near the ‘ghost city’ of Zhengdong introduced me to the family of Big Bear beers. Ranging from 4.7% to 12%, these beers could keep Siberia chugging through an Artic winter. I drank a can on the train back to my Kaifeng. The flavour was dark and intense. It would be best described has having the malty backbone of a brown bear and the hoppy skeletal system of a field mouse.
Once the trapdoor of Chinese beer is opened, turning back becomes impossible.
