Kerala Day 7: Rocky Ridges, Grassy Mounds, Rolling Tea Estates: That's Hiking in Munnar!

The Greenview Inn, our chosen abode for our 2-day stay, was simple and clean, if nothing to brag about. But we liked its location in the middle of Old Munnar on the quaint Parvati Amman Koil street within walking distance of several Vegetarian Dhabas (eat-outs), which made our nightly meal a cinch. The inn is run by a young chap called Deepak who (along with 3-4 colleagues) have charted out various treks in the local mountains ranging from 6 to 15km in length. For us anyway, that was the key to the golden kingdom and beat out the various resorts in the Hills of Munnar, where one can spend a more leisurely time wallowing in the surrounding visual feasts.

We chose a 9-10km route with a 500m rise (1700 to 2200m), which we figured was about the statute of limits for the kids (3 kms steepish ascent to the peak; 6-7 kms more gently downward walk to base). The hike would also take us through 2km of tea estate giving us a true Munnar experience. Our guide, Prabhu, an energetic twenty-something economics graduate was a kind and helpful escort, adjusting to the pace of the kids, and pointing out various trees and wildflowers. And the weather once more outdid itself as if made to order by us.

Our 2 hour ascent was marked by 3 steep ridges with increasingly spectacular views including the Mattupetty Dam, which started as a speck of blue, but gradually unfolded into a long, pristine lagoon as we climbed. The final ascent was a narrow path flanked by nearly sheer rock, causing our own mother-hen, Chitra, to keep herding the kids to the middle of the path. The landscape reminded us quite a bit of Scotland and Wales and in particular a 3000+ foot peak called Pen-Y-Fan in South Wales that we (including 3 year old Sarvesh) had scaled back in 2006. The crisp morning air was perfect for our temperate-toned bodies, bathed by the moist warmth of the rising sun, which highlighted various wildflowers, orchids and shimmering butterflies. Rising from Grandee Tree forests (this tree which is a fast growing variety, is used as a sustainable source of fire wood by tea factories), the scrubby slopes of the ridge rose like the shoulders of a brooding giant above the lakes, waterfalls and tea plantations of Munnar. However, while the Welsh slopes of Pen-Y-Fan had been a true mix of stubble and poop(!) from the incessant nibbling of hundreds of generations of sheep, the Munnar slopes were not so contaminated, covered instead in bushes of neelakurunji (which blooms every 12 years, next scheduled in 2018) and various other grasses and flowers. One notable flower was the Lantena. a picture-perfect creation with petals comprising as many as 15 tiny heads of orange, pink and yellow).

Sarvesh was in rare form, stomping tirelessly up the successive ridges and leaving his sister in his dust. She did not take too kindly to this, but elicited no sympathy from us given her gleeful mocking of Sarvesh the previous day when he had indulged in a couple of 6-year-old antics.

After almost 2 hours we reached the summit, which was marked by 3 large crosses stuck in the ground (a relic from locals who typically hike up this and various other summits on Good Friday. Our reward was a glorious 360 degree visual feast. This was the Western Ghats in their full splendour. To the West was Annaimudi (derived from the Tamil words "Yannai Mudi" - Elephant Head), Munnar's highest peak with a burgeoning waterfall streaming down its face. To the North, several rolling hills. To the East, the full expanse of the Mattupetty Dam. To the South, the bustling and rather grubby city of Munnar.
As the others tucked into a tasty tiffin (which included locally-produced black tea that Prabhu had brought), Vijay walked laps around the peak taking copious amounts of video and snaps. And just as well too. For as he finished, the clouds started closing in apace. It was astonishing how quickly Mother Nature moved. First some whisps, then a rising clump, and finally a roaring mass akin to an inferno. Before we knew it, we were engulfed in a wall of white on all sides. It was quite surreal. We gaped at the surroundings for quite some time, rather glad that we had our trusty guide with us! After maybe 10 minutes, the murk started to clear a little, and we were then treated to an equally eery period of sporadic glimpses of the surrounding landscape in the manner of a stroboscope.

Fortunately, near visibility was ok so we set off down the other side of the mountain for the return journey. This took us through a variety of terrains. Prabhu informed us that we were hiking along trails used by British officers and local villagers for hundreds of years to travel from one village to another! First we dipped into the forest and immediately had our first encounter with India's most reviled wildlife - the leech. One clinging to Shobhita's heel was quickly dispatched, but Vijay discovered a rather more tenacious one, crawling up his long socks looking for an entry point. Initial attempts to brush it off were successful only in transferring it to Chitra's hand, but a timely flick from Prabhu sent our tormentor flying. Fortunately, the forest lasted only about 100 meters before we emerged into sanctitude. The mountain path zigged and zagged overlooking sheer slopes and more forestry. The only common element was consistently breathtaking views. There were clear signs of a wild elephant traversing the path, first from the large footprints and then from the bulbous excrement that filled the path. We were grateful that our paths did not cross, because it was probably a large mother with its pachyderm.

At around the 7km point, we swung around a sharp curve and found ourselves entering a tea plantation - the Mattupetty Tea Estate (owned as are all of the tea plantations in the vicinity by the Tata Tea Company - what an asset!). It was yet another stunning sight. Acres and acres of tea plants of different maturity pitched into fields ranging from flattish to sharply sloped to unfathomably steep. The steepest slopes were virtually impossible to climb, and it boggled the mind as to how the tea workers maintain and harvest the tea plants. I guess you can do almost anything with practice, although we thought we would last about 5 minutes in such an endeavour. We learnt that a single 3-stemmed tea leaf could yield several different tea-types including White Tea (from the top of the middle or scale lead), Leaf Tea from the 2 flanking leaves, and Black Tea from the whole thing. In addition, Green Tea from the whole plant, which is intrinsically decaffeinated as it goes through a steaming process that removes the caffeine. We also learnt about the history of the Munnar tea manufacturing industry, which grows varieties of China tea (other other indigenous brands being Assam and Darjeling). In keeping with Chitra's inherent curiosity as a Financial Analyst, we also discovered the Tata Tea Company had over the years acquired almost all the tea estates in the area (especially the land, which was now no longer leased from the government) in return for equity ownership (now at 70%) for the workers, for which the average worker earns ~Rs 350/year in dividend income. Kerala's progressive and socialist leanings were in evidence as the local Unions had negotiated free housing, decent vacation time, free medical care, child care and early education facilities for worker families, in addition to some retirement benefits, and a daily wage of Rs.114 (plus performance bonuses for collecting >21 kgs of tea per day). It was fascinating stuff, made all the more real by Prabhu with his personal experience as a child of a tea plantation worker.

Shobhita and Sarvesh had fun mounting various rocks that dotted the tea plantation, causing Chitra one or two heart palpitations in the process. Then came a steep descent back to the road, punctuated by an array of royal blue "Morning Glory" wildflowers that gleamed in the early afternoon sunshine.

After our exertions, we were all in the mood for a hearty (late) lunch. We found Hotel Saravana Bhava (that had eluded us the previous evening), right in the thick of the Munnar city chaos. Chitra was in seventh heaven as she ordered the "South Indian Meals", an assortment of curries with almost unlimited quantities of rice served on a big banana leaf, the first time, she told us, she had had this pleasure in 20 years!

Once we were done and dusted, it was ~3.30, which left us just enough time to drive to the Lockheart Gap. It took a while to get out of Munnar as our driver rather strangely picked a fight with a traffic police officer and proceeded to spend several minutes on the kerb-side in a shouting match. Finally we were free of the city shackles and back in storybook scenery with tea plantations stretching out to the horizon amidst various shades of mountains. Lockheart Gap is ~13km from Munnar, so we soon reached its vicinity. Just before its summit, we passed through a cavernous section where the road narrowed sharply and was hugged by the trees to the side. Here of all places, we got stuck behind a group of cyclists from England. There was as much to admire in their adventurous spirit as there was to question in their wisdom. We mused as to how much experience they had had with Indian mountain traffic?

At length, we extricated ourselves and strolled about the Lockheart Gap area, both at the peak and lower down in the tea estates, which had conveniently positioned walking paths through their heart. But the now-familiar evening weather patterns were taking over and dull skies were followed by drizzle and then heavy rain. We got another good view of the tea plantations, but a good soaking too, so maybe one could question our adventurous spirit too!

Anyhow, as if to prove the point about Indian driving, on our return journey, our driver proceeded to career down the twisty mountain roads at breakneck pace, placing far too much trust in his horn (or maybe his X-ray visual abilities to see round corners) and the brakes of his Indica. Eventually, we felt compelled to intervene and ask for a bit of a restraint. He shot us back one of those: "leave me to do what I do best" glances and continued at only a slightly moderated pace. But as the old maxim goes, better lucky than good, and we steered clear of trouble and landed back at the Greenview Hotel intact.