Oooooooooty

Ever since we watched the BBC’s Indian Railways programme we’ve wanted to come to Ooty (proper name Udhagamandalam and travel on the Nilgiri Hill Railway. The journey from Mysore takes us through the Mudumalai National Park and higher into the mountains than we’ve so far ventured.  The road is even scarier than normal with a series of steep climbs and 36 hairpin bends which our little Tata car struggles to cope with.  We crawl uphill using a combination of first and second gears – John says ‘smell the mountain air’ – all I smell is smoking brake linings and a clutch that must be red hot.

The Little Car that could

The Mudumalai National Park is a designated tiger sanctuary but as usual they elude us.  We do however watch an elephant go wild – it’s a working elephant with a gang of men when suddenly one of the men dashes of with the elephant in hot and rapid pursuit. We are reminded of how wild and how quickly these huge beasts can move.

Jumbo throws a moody

We finish the last hairpin bend and breath a sigh of relief remarking that it would be much scarier to go downhill…. In a tuktuk!  

Hairpins in a tuktuk - Nightmare

We pass through small and colourful hill villages and the air is much cooler here.  It’s still warm by our standards but we notice that many of the locals are wearing cardigans and coats.  As we enter Ooty we are only five minutes from our hotel when a guy at a bus stop shouts to our driver that we have a flat front tyre.

Our driver pulls over into the next lay-by containing a large bin which has the full and undivided attention of and a bin-dipper.  Oblivious to our driver who is jacking up the car, and to us with our jaws dropping the dishevelled gentleman is working his way through discarded plates of leftover food which he pulls from the bin with relish.  He clears every plate ignoring the smell and flies wiping his mouth on his sleeve as he goes.  It’s compulsive watching but we decide that it probably wouldn’t be a good idea to catch the gentleman’s eye and retire to a safe point.  Wheel changed, we continue on to our hotel in the sprawling hill town.

John has been excited about visiting the train station and the following day we walk through the town enjoying the hustle and bustle of the market as we make our way to the station.  The stall holders are very welcoming and want to chat and pose for photos.  One of the flower sellers gives me a length of jasmine garland which smells lovely.

Garland seller in Ooty Market

Ooty station is famous for its toy train that runs down through the Indian hill stations to Metupalayam which is about 30 km and three hours away.  It isn’t possible to do the full return journey in a day so we buy tickets to Coonoor .  We get talking to the station master who is passionate about the railway and whilst we’re waiting for the train he tells us of his plans for this lovely station and the Nilgiri Line.

Lucy meets a real tv star

The train is full but we have reserved tickets in first class.  We thought we should splash out the 75p fare although second class was a very reasonable 5p.  The views are staggering and as the train slowly makes its way down it hugs the mountain side passing through small villages, tea plantations, and veg crops.  The journey takes about an hour and a half but my train spotting husband has a beaming smile on his face which suggests that this is nowhere near long enough.

Heading down to Coonor

A view from the train

School kids disembark 

We arrive with a couple of hours to kill.  Our friendly station master told John to make sure he visited the engine sheds at Coonoor and John heads off across the tracks to check them out.  He returns with tales of busy engine sheds and a number of steam engines in various stages of maintenance.  

Steam engine maintenance shed at Coonoor

We take a tuktuk to a tea plantation and again experience magnificent views are we climb out of Coonor to the tea plantation. The tea factory visit isn’t very exciting but we do have a chuckle at the claims made for some of the potions on display, particularly the ‘Crack Care Cream’.

I've ordered a crate for old pals in the TA

Whilst waiting for our train we witness the departure of the train to Mettupalayam.  You may recall that we were unable to secure a seat on this train and were on a waiting list.  How glad am I that we cancelled the ticket and opted for a car.  The train is rammed – so rammed that ticket carrying passengers cannot physically get into the carriages because of the numbers already packed in.  Four unhappy back-packers can’t fit in and as the train pulls out are last seen remonstrating with a station master who shrugs and walks away.

Plenty of room on top!

By the time we’re back on the train the temperature has fallen and when we get back into Ooty it is quite cold.  Ooty stands at over 5,500 feet and the air in the mountains is clean and fresh.  However once the sun has gone in the temperatures fall quickly.

We share our visit to the Botanical Gardens with thousands of Indian tourists.  The gardens are wonderfully laid out and in many respects it’s like walking around an English country park with familiar flowers adding colour whilst eucalyptus trees tower overhead.

Botanical Gardens - Ooty

We are amazed by the large groups of teenage boys who are visiting the gardens and are obviously enjoying the delights of the gardens.  Groups of boys and girls don’t mix but the boys still cast sly glances in the girls’ direction.  We’re asked by a noisy group of lads to do a another photo call – they’re polite and clamour to get into the shot with John.

John the superstar

We spend half an hour sitting on the large sloping lawn enjoying black tea and watching the Indian tourists enjoying the gardens.  A few families stop to chat to us and we really feel something of a novelty for those people who just want to chat.

Spot the father of five

Continuing our horticultural theme we head for the Centenary Rose Gardens and as it’s out of season we’re not expecting too much.   There are thousands of roses on display spread across four long terraces which overlook Ooty.  Even at the end of the season many specimens are still in flower giving splashes of amazing colours -  I have never before seen so many variety of roses in one place and can only imagine what the gardens look like in full bloom between May and July.

Centenary Rose Garden in winter season

The Fernhills Palace has a fantastic reputation for charm and sophistication which is right up our street.  We head over for lunch and it is like stepping back into colonial times.  Fernhills is the summer palace of the Maharajah from Mysore and although the exterior of the buildings is a little run down the interior is gorgeous with wood panelled walls adorned with old photos of by-gone days when India was one of the colonies and British values were held to represent the best.  There are photos of Rolls Royce cars, the Ooty Foxhounds and the pursuit of elephants and tigers.

Oh how the other half live

 The atmosphere is serene and because we’re out of season the hotel is largely empty.  On our way to the dining room we pass through the ballroom with its lovely wooden floor, elaborate fireplaces and period furniture and more photos of the Edwardian well to do.  You can almost hear the orchestra playing as we amble through to take afternoon tea.

Imagine the ballroom in its heyday

Even the menu harks back to the days of the Raj with a heading of ‘Attention Corporal – Get some pork on your fork’ and with offerings such as ‘Kenny Boys Kanjee’, ‘Clive’s Pork Vindaloo’, and my favourite ‘Cockeyed Marys Bo-Bo Curriee’

The food and service is wonderful and after lunch the hotel manager gives us a tour which includes some of the Maharaja’s quarters although we’re not allowed in as the Maharaja and his family still visit regularly and use these rooms.  The coat of arms of the two headed eagles is on everything although in my opinion the bird more closely resembles a two headed duck.

We are shown to a paying guest room and I immediately want to move in but ever sensible John tells me how impractical this would be. The rooms are done out in wood panelling using Burma teak, rosewood and cedar, the floors are mosaic marble and there is a warmth and cosiness to the rooms which are well furnished and look out onto the perfectly manicured lawns. Sadly we have to leave as we have an appointment back at the hotel with a pair of masseuses - more about that in a special blog !!

On our last full day in Ooty we head for the Doddabetta Lookout which at 8,640 feet is the highest peak in Southern India.  Our tuk tuk gave good account of itself and negotiated the hairpin bends with some gusto and we’re rewarded with great views of Ooty and the blue Nilgiri mountains.

We smile bravely on the downhill ride from hell

We walked around the peak which is a major tourist attraction sharing the views with more Indian sightseers and again groups of young lads were more interested in taking snaps of us than the views.  

Top of the world ma - well top of Southern India anyway

View from Doddabetta Lookout

As we posed for pictures more and more lads joined the throng until we were surrounded by a dozen or so young menall excitedly jostling for inclusion in the impromptu team snap.  We had a good laugh with the lads before going for lemon tea.

Superstar 1

Superstar 2 - I think they thought I was Lulu

On our way back to the tuk tuk we stopped for several more photo calls then started on the road back to Ooty.  You may recall that we had previously only imagined the horror of a hairpin descent in a tuk tuk and let me be frank our imagination had not run wild.  The driver took off like a rocket and we bounced and careered around blind bends in a flurry of stones and honking horns.  We both agreed that if Alton Towers ever introduces a new thrill seeking ride called the ‘Runaway DoddabettaTuktuk’ you are advised to give it a big swerve.

Ooty boating lake is another popular, if tacky attraction incorporating many of the amusements that were popular in Britain in the fifties including a boating lake with rowing boats and pedalos, dodgems and roundabouts and lame bits from the ghost train and the fun house.  The Indians were whooping it up and to get into the spirit we went into the house of horrors which was pitch black and rather hilarious until I walked head first into a black wall – come to think of it John even laughed at that.

Health and safety has not yet spread its killjoy tentacles here and loose wires, uneven paths and missing bolts on the roundabout are all part of the fun.  Our visit to the Maze of Mirrors was a psychdelic experience with its red and green lights and its 70s Indian sittar music playing in the background – at any minute you expected to bump into aged stoned Hippies or maybe Pete Doherty.

Now that's tripping man

We spent half an hour watching the Indians enjoying tame fairground rides, the men were the worst when it came to screaming and we could not stop laughing at the fear on their faces on rides that Izzy and Ben would think where for babies.  Even the dodgems were a hoot with your typical fairground showoff waltzing casually in and out of the mayhem until a young boy smashed into his car almost catapulting him into the watching crowd.

Young Lad 1 Dignity 0.


That’s it from Ooty.  Tomorrow we head south to Alleppey and a few days in the Backwaters of Kerela.  We’re not sure whether we’ll be able to get on-line whilst we’re there so it may be 5 days or so before our next major post but please look out for a short post in the next day or so regarding John’s ordeal at the hands of the masseuses.