The second half of life..

By twigs

This one's for you mum . . .

I woke early and had to kill time before the breakfast bar was open. It was nice just enjoying some peacefulness and a little solitude - something I've missed over the past couple of weeks. Once I had breakfasted I moved my gear to the lobby and waited to run a few questions past our tour leader. I was wondering if she knew of any wildlife sanctuaries in the area that I could visit today before heading to my 'new' hotel in South Goa. Between Sayoni, myself, hotel reception, a very poor map and a taxi driver we decided I had plenty of time to complete the roughly four and a half hour trip to Bondla Sanctuary. I agreed a taxi fare of almost 3000 rupees ($NZ60) for the driver to take me to the sanctuary, about 90 minutes east of where we've been staying, then to take me to my new hotel by the airport. Bondla sanctuary is described as a jungle resort with large enclosures for some wild animals, including tigers. I was told that I may or may not see a tiger. I've felt a bit like a cat whisperer at times on this trip so put my mind to summoning up a tiger for my visit.

Arriving at the sanctuary I was disappointed to see the word 'zoo' appear in its title. Where did that come from? I don't remember the last time I went to a zoo - I'm a fan of wild animals being allowed to do their thing in their environment. I had nevertheless driven 90 minutes to get here and, as it began to rain, I had to make a decision - stay or go. I decided to stay and do a lightning tour of the 'zoo' which I set about doing juggling my camera, travel bag and umbrella. I zipped round the first few enclosures and began to think that maybe, just maybe, these animals were being kept quite well. The natural jungle we were in had been maintained through most enclosures with some modifications to suit different animals habitats (one notable exception being a King Cobra who was contained behind thick glass). Then as I rounded a bend in the path, there he was . . . . the most beautiful big tiger. I watched him for a few minutes - his glorious red colouring a sharp contrast to the lush greenery that surrounded him. As I watched him I put my cat-whispering to work then, with a bit of a tired shuffle he stood up and began walking itowards me. Wow. What a truly magnificent beast he was. I watched him for about 15 minutes during which time he did about 3 small wanders round sections of his enclosure, sprayed some territory and stopped at his water hole for some refreshment. Little could compare with that so I headed back to the taxi who had waited patiently for me. Magnificent.

The taxi driver then drove me to my 'new' hotel by the airport. It was a challenge to find but when we did find it, it was well worth it. It turns out it's actually more a bed and breakfast place run by a mother and daughter. After spending many years living in differnt places around the world because her father was in the navy, the family decided about 6 years ago to have this place built and run it as a guest house. It's stunning. It feels like it's in the middle of the jungle - everything around is so lush and green. The pool is central to the accommodation and I enjoyed a very pleasant hour or so after arrival just sitting and relaxing. I think this is the other end of the Indian economic spectrum.

As it's essentially a B&B there was no dinner menu. The owner instead took me 5 minutes down the road to the beach where I did a sunset amble before settling on a restaurant for dinner. I ordered a curry dish and naan and asked for just a little rice.

"Our rice comes in bowl. You have bowl of rice" He didn't seem to want to just give me half a bowl.

As I sat and ate my dinner I became aware of a woman standing on the sand below the main restaurant window. She was making hand to mouth gestures indicating she wanted food. After seeing her gesturing for over 5 minutes with not a soul even acknowledging her presence, I knew what I wanted to do. I poured the remaining curry dish into the rice dish, added the remaining naan then slowly slid my chair back, stood up with the bowl and walked down the steps to her. Right at the start of this tour we were advised against giving to beggars but somehow, this felt very right. I could feel the eyes of a dozen or more other diners watching me as I gave her my dinner. She was so very grateful and courteous in her thanks, then sat down on the sand to eat it. I returned to my restaurant seat with tears stinging my eyes. Within just a couple of minutes someone (I'm thinking from the restaurant) came along and spoke to her. She got up slowly, painfully, picked up her dish then they both walked away down the beach slowly together.

'We must not pollute the scene with beggars who spoil our paying guests' view of paradise' - I'm sure that is what the man was thinking as he led her away.

This surely has been a country of contrasts - contrasts that frequently sit uncomfortably side-by-side.

Comments
Sign in or get an account to comment.