Out of Smokes - Sanjay Gandhi Nat Park, Dec. 12, 2009

Log margin notes:

Apparently, weather reports which reach the United States usually list Mumbai as over 30C and "smokey."

It means "smoggy" and it sounds funny to anyone who has never been here. The air is heavy. It has a taste and a smell and a feel and none of it is good. The dust and dirt hangs in the motionless atmosphere both inside and outside. It dries lungs and eyes and anecdotally sets off a huge asthma problem in the city's children. People here claim to be used to it, which is just as well because there is no escaping it.

That is, except for Sanjay Gandhi National Park.

The only national park within city limits in the country is about an hour north of city center and well worth the hour-long train ride.

There are a few sights to see including some hilltop caves which were carved by Buddhist monks for use as a monestary around 2,000 years ago. That was impressive, but breathing some fresh air, panoramic views and wildlife beyong stray dogs and pigeons was probably the greater thrill.

In the city it [shouldn't be, but it] seems mildly acceptable to stand or walk in other people's way, but it is equally as acceptable to give someone a gentle shove out of the way. Politely fighting for position is all just a part of getting somewhere.

In the park there is no need for that.

Ride to the sights by car or motorcycle for about $20. The breeze carried more oxygen molecules than dust particles and the oppressive heat retreated about 5C.

The first of the tourist attractions were the monkeys. Everyone loves the little guys. I carried on snapping away with the camera and getting closer and closer until one of the bigger ones had enough of me and jumped awfully close to let me know it. For the monkey's information, he wasn't nearly as freightening as the buffalo who didn't like having his picture taken back in Oklahoma a few years ago.

I intended to write-up the whole experience in the park for some travel magazine or another, but after a shoeless walk around a Jain temple, I realized that I had very little idea of what I was talking about. Later reviews of the internet were not helpful.

What I did know about the temple was that there was a lot of very well-carved and well-polished marble. The three large statues at the top of the first landing looked like something from the original Star Trek.

The lack of knowledge about the Jain religion and its icons reinforced another lesson... other people must think my culture is as strange as I do theirs... most illogical.

Continuing up the hills my guide and I found the Kanheri caves which were carved by the Buddhist monks. Monks made more sense to my modern mind, but the amount of time it must have taken to bore into that much rock with hammer and chisel was mind-blowing. Despite the screaming school kids running from cave to cave and meditaion room to meeting hall, I felt a little zen. This far above a forested valley, this far from the city... how could I not?

The caves ended three-quarters of the way from the top of the hill. I couldn't suffer that. I knew my guide was anxious to end the trip and pick up another fare so I chugged up the steepest stretch of the rock to make sure I got a view from the top. There's something about "near the top" that just won't do. It was really the same view as before, but the clean air rushed a bit faster and there was a very slight sense of accomplishment that has been missing since I've been here... and not publishing anything.

Despite the 2,000 year old carvings, I secretly was more excited to see the big cats; the last of the touristy stops.

Back to the old ways of public transportation... I waited for one full safari bus to leave and had to shove families out of the way to get onto the second. I was able to get a good seat by the barred window in order to make a few tricky attempts at pictures of the lions and tigers which are couped up in their own pens.

My driver left me off at the main gate again and stopped me when I walked away from the gate. I told him I hadn't had enough yet and I walked back to section of the park frequented by more of the locals. There was a boat pond for the couples and a few grassy patches for soccer and cricket.

For the sake of my supposed travel article, I wanted to see the mini-train I had read about. I found it easily, but I found it during the "engineer's" lunch break. The train typically leaves every 30min, but I was looking at a minimum 45min wait. I saw a few people start to walk down the tracks. It seemed fitting enough as everyone is perfectly comfortable to walk in the city's streets and bump shoulders with traffic.

I walked passed a few more pens containing small spotted deer, including a few pint-sized six-point bucks.

I felt intrepid and continued on down the tracks far passed where the rest of the crowd lost interest. I was walking by myself in a secluded and strange place, but I had a similarly surreal feeling as on the hilltop.

They might have been dopey narrow gauge mini-train tracks, but there's something about train tracks and hilltops that have such a poetic quality. I walked along thinking about life gone by and what was up ahead. No major break-throughs were reached, but using the ol' brain in that way has an actual good feeling and with all that has been going on, it had been too long since I'd felt it.

Before long I turned a 20min kiddie train ride into an hour-long walk. I made my way back to the train station and skipped my stop. I grabbed some early dinner at a dairy/cafe in town and after some more walking, called it a day.

It was a big relief just to do something other than making phone calls, burrowing through Google and sitting at my friendly neighborhood diner.

A brief night's sleep preceded what looked to be my last week in Mumbai. There were still a few tricks to try before I skipped town for Pune.

[Stay tuned for that attempt at a formal travel article featuring the park. It will be up sooner or later, depending on its success with the world's editor populaton.]