India

by Aline Dobbie

  We stayed one night at Claridges Naini Retreat and, having been shown to our suite, a sort of cottage, I was scrabbling around in the luggage to find my one and only sweater and pashmina. It was cold, clear and beautiful but, make no mistake, cold! I was still dressed in clothes that had been suitable for an afternoon in Bareilly. The bearer brought hot water bottles for which I was deeply grateful. You might wonder why I was so unprepared; well, the fact was that we had decided to visit Naini on the spur of the moment and, thus, had made no allowances for the altitude. Claridges was to undergo a complete renovation and I am sure will be delightful now; at the time it was a bit shabby but comfortable enough. The hotel has a superb situation with the most beautiful views of the great lake beneath it. I had gone out onto our terrace and looked at the half moon shining down on the lake and the twinkling lights on the far hillside and looked forward to seeing it at the sunrise. I was not disappointed. This whole area is wonderful but, of course, now well populated and that always has it own attendant problems. Still, it is beautiful and, for the hill walker or mountaineer, the plantsman or those who like mountain air, I recommend the Kumaon and its various destinations.

  The next day was clear and sunny and warmed up quite quickly. After breakfast, we departed from the hotel and drove down and left the car in the valley car park beside the lake. We took the cable car to the summit of the ridge of hills. From there, we could look out and gaze at the snows. It was wonderful. The cable car went up another 2000 feet (approximately 700 metres) and the view was breathtaking. I have not seen the Himalayas since the 1960s when I used to fly out for holidays. In those days, the captain of the flight sometimes would elect to fly a route that allowed one to see a glimpse of Mount Everest in the sunrise. That was my experience and the only time that I have looked on the great peaks in their total magnificence. Graham was enchanted with the whole experience and I was glad that we had taken the trouble to come, however fleetingly.

  People who knew Nainital in its time as a Hill Station for the British consider the place has been ruined, but look at it this way; India’s population has grown amazingly since then and, with it, there are thousands who now have the income to holiday in the mountains; that puts pressure on the little town’s infrastructure. I just wish they would clean up but that is going back to my previous complaints that cover the whole of India – ensure that litter and detritus is removed and come down heavily on the offenders. However, we met a stranger in a bookshop who commented that it was so nice to see Nainital had not changed in any way since his last visit 23 years ago. Ranikhet, which is another similar hill town, is still, apparently, very beautiful because it is a military cantonment and kept in ship-shape order.

  Uttaranchal has a lot to offer and the Claridges Group have some very fine establishments; I have spoken of the one in Naini but we would be going on to The Claridges Corbett Hideaway near Corbett National Park, which was excellent and so attractive, plus they have the Riverside Camp at Rishikesh, which could be good for those on a spiritual trail or wanting to take part in river sports like river rafting. There is the Himalayan View Retreat at Ramgarh, the Hari Ganga Haveli at Haridwar and the Camp Harsil at Gangotri (the source of the Ganges). For trekking purposes, one can centre oneself at Nainital and have a choice of three routes or at Almora and have a choice of five routes. Then, there is Ranikhet with three other routes and Kausani with three routes, plus Chowkori with another three routes. I am told that the Pindari Glacier trek is wonderful; it requires about seven to eight days but provides beautiful views and walking. The best time to experience this is between the middle of May and the middle of June when the flowers are in full bloom and then again between September and October. Had I the energy and health I would have loved to plan a walking holiday round visiting some of the ancient pilgrimage sites and their various temples that go back about six hundred years.

  We left Nainital and descended to the valley by another route because we were going to Ramnagar en route to Kaladungi, Jim Corbett’s home, which is now a museum. In the midday sunshine, it was a beautiful view but I found the steepness of the road quite nerve-wracking. At Nainital, Jim and his sister had lived at Gurney Lodge, which was left to Maggie by their mother. This too is now a museum but my parents had visited them at Kaladungi and this is what I wanted to do. In fact, I had been there before, but whilst safely in my mother’s womb.

  Jim Corbett’s life is well documented already; Geoffrey and Diane Ward’s book ‘Tiger Wallahs’, published in 1993 described him in quite a lot of detail. Diane agreed with me the other day that at the end of that book one is left quite depressed, as indeed she and Geoffrey were writing it, but that, a decade after, there is more real cause for optimism with regard to tiger conservation.

  Kaladungi – home of Jim Corbett. Now a museum

  Briefly, Edward James Corbett, known as Jim, was the son of a British couple Christopher and Mary Corbett whose family had experienced the brutality and fear of the Indian Mutiny or First War of Independence. Members of their close family had suffered cruelly before being murdered by the rebels. Christopher became the postmaster at Nainital but died when Jim was only four years old. Mary was left with Jim and eleven other children and only a meagre pension on which to survive. They did, however, own the house in Nainital and the property at Kaladungi. The Corbetts were not considered to be in the social elite and this was because India and the British Raj had imposed all sorts of cruel criteria which laid down who and what you were in life. ‘Country born’ was a sneering description which has never made any sense to me whatsoever. How on earth could one have avoided British children being actually born in India, given that married couples continue to procreate wherever they may be! However, the saving grace was that most children were shipped out at an early age to Britain and had to endure lonely unhappy childhoods, often punctuated with cruelty and neglect, as indeed did Kipling. So much has been written about the Raj but I am afraid that those of us in these modern times would have found the whole idea appalling and hypocritical and full of false values. I was born in India and was indeed sent back to boarding school at the age of ten, but this was accomplished with as much care and love and attention as was possible by my caring parents. Thank goodness for being born in that great land; it gave me an understanding and huge respect for a breadth of people, ancient cultures far greater than my own, a knowledge of different languages and an ability to feel at home at all levels of society, not just with those who had received a narrow protected upbringing. Believe me, Jim Corbett had all of these qualities and probably many more besides, and my father thought him the most wonderful man. The essence of the man was that he taught himself about the forest – the jungle and its denizens. He loved the local people; he worked in a humble job in the railways and, then, in the army during the Second World War where he was given the rank of colonel and asked to train men for jungle warfare. His health suffered considerably and, during his periods of ill health, he took up writing. His subjects were the tigers, leopards and other creatures of the Kumaon and, at that time, he concentrated on his shikar exploits (shikar is the word for hunting in Hindi). Corbett did not kill wantonly but did kill man-eaters and flagrant cattle killers. Tigers and leopards were in large numbers in those days and people did not give them the respect due as creatures sharing our planet. Anything that proved to be dangerous to people and cattle was likely to be despatched. His many books describe in detail the stories and adventures that led to the successful killing of the various tigers and leopards that terrified the humble people who lived in the Kumaon region. However, he saw for himself that the tiger was an endangered species and warned about this a long time ago in the 1930s. He was able to experience the abundant game of the East African savannah and could see for himself what population pressure and that from animal husbandry was doing to India’s wildlife. He was, in fact, a pioneer in the field of wildlife with an intrinsic love of the jungle and detailed knowledge of its animal inhabitants. His imitation of bird calls an
d even tiger and leopard were famous and well known to my parents. My mother recalls that he told her about his pet leveret (a baby hare) which he had rescued from the forest. He felt that, after a time, it would be better put back in its natural environment but when he attempted to do this the little creature just lolloped back and sat at his feet and looked at him. So he scooped it up and brought it home to Kaladungi.

  Jim Corbett’s book ‘Man Eaters of Kumaon’ was probably his most famous in which he wrote of his experiences tracking and killing tigers, which reflected both his courage and determination. He was the first to point out that tigers were disappearing in India and to symbolise the end of his hunting days, he buried, with the help of two trusted servants, his three rifles and two shot guns before leaving for Kenya. In his letters, he wrote to his friends that his heart remained in India. When The Queen and Prince Philip visited Kenya in late January early February 1952, it was Jim Corbett who took them to Tree Tops, the guest house incorporated into a tree from which to watch wildlife. He wrote of this account in the book of the same name. He was enchanted with his meeting with Princess Elizabeth and recalled with awe that she had been a princess on arrival but departed a queen.

  At the suggestion of Jim Corbett, Sir John Hewett, a lieutenant governor of Uttar Pradesh, or Upper Province as it then was named, decided to establish a wildlife park. In 1936, the park opened under the name Hailey National Park after the governor of the UP Sir Malcolm Hailey. Later the name was changed to Ramganga National Park. Jim Corbett had in the meantime become world famous for his book ‘Man Eaters of Kumaon’ and his name became a byword for anyone interested in hunting and wildlife and the preservation thereof. Corbett died in 1955 and, in 1957, it was decided to honour him by renaming Ramganga National Park, the Corbett National Park. In fact, it is quite confusing because Corbett Tiger Reserve is the title for the area encompassing Corbett National Park and the Sonanadi Wildlife Sanctuary. This is the oldest national park on the Indian subcontinent.

  Thirty years ago, on 1st April 1973, Project Tiger was launched on the banks of the Ramganga River in Corbett Tiger Reserve. The launch of Project Tiger heralded the onset of scientific wildlife management in India. Thirty years on, India has not really made much progress in this regard, and indeed went through a dark phase when poaching was rife. It will never be eradicated until we have, as a world, managed to educate everyone, be it in China or anywhere else, that tiger’s penises and so forth are not likely to enhance their own physical sexuality. Again I repeat, if politicians could see votes in it for their own aggrandizement, the problem would be well on its way to being solved.

  Kaladungi stands at the head of a T junction. The Corbett house is a simple building, completely unpretentious and very modest in size. The garden is maintained and the various grandchildren of some of his faithful skikaris (hunters) act as custodians and guides. Corbett had invested a large part of his income and wealth in schemes for the welfare of the local people. He bought a village called ‘Choti Haldwani’ near Kaladungi and made it an ideal village. He divided and gifted 40 plots out of his village to the villagers and himself paid the land tax. Graham and I enjoyed talking to the descendants of his helpers, all straightforward men who had iconised Corbett for very good reason. We talked both in their broken English and my broken Hindi but thus achieved a good understanding. It is a simple, some would say dull, little museum but that is the essence of it all, not showy just telling you about a very good man of absolute integrity who did the best he could for the simple people of the area, yet at the same time recognised that the powers that be required to be galvanised into action to preserve tigers. Jim Corbett was so austere about his personal habits that he preferred to sleep outside in a tent quite often! The palki (rather like a canvas sedan chair) that was used by his sister Maggie when she wanted to travel to Nainital is still there. Men would have carried it on their shoulders with Maggie sitting in a sort of sling chair, all the way up the mountain side. I am glad to say my photos have been successful and therefore we have a good record of our visit. My mother was amazed to see it all after 56 years.

  Gandhiji’s wise comment on a sign at Kaladungi house

  We drove on to Claridges Corbett Hideaway and found it quite delightful. The whole establishment is well thought out and the cottages are thoroughly charming and spacious. There is a front porch, sitting room with fireplace, spacious bedroom, dressing area, bathroom, and a back veranda to sit on in privacy in the sunshine. The gardens are well maintained and colourful. The restaurant building was good with a deck looking onto the Kosi River, thus giving the soothing sound of rushing water. This also doubles as a conference facility. The rondavel open-sided thatched restaurant was very attractive with a pool and children’s pool area alongside, plus a separate thatched rondavel bar, the thatched roof of which had a sort of peacock pinnacle! There are facilities for badminton, table tennis and a friendly game of cricket with a soft ball. There was also tented accommodation each with its own facilities, presumably at a cheaper tariff than the cottages. This is a complete resort and very much reminded us of the various resorts in the Drakensberg Mountains of South Africa. A sweater or jacket was required in the winter chill and I asked them to light a fire in the sitting room of our cottage which gave a cosy atmosphere. Tea and coffee-making facilities are provided in each cottage which is so useful, though room service and laundry service was readily available. I was very grateful for the laundry service that put themselves out especially for us – I just hate carrying any amount of dirty washing in my luggage.

  The food was excellent with a good variety and the chefs could be seen preparing and cooking the food in a small open-sided thatched kitchen a few feet away from the rondavel restaurant.

  Claridges Hotel near Corbett National Park in Uttaranchal

  The hotel has a resident naturalist called Imran Khan who was helpful to us. I did suggest that they could improve on their shop because people having a happy time invariably want to indulge in some retail therapy and, in Rajasthan, the various hotels have understood this very well. Postcards, calendars, Corbett’s many books, T shirts and other memorabilia are what people want to remind themselves of a good experience. It does not have to be ‘tacky’, just well stocked with specific items that appeal to all ages, plus maps and reference booklets and perhaps the odd suitable ‘coffee table’ book showing the wildlife in all its glory.

  We went out very early the next morning in a jeep wrapped up in thick blankets against the dawn chill. It is always a thrill to be up and about so early because of the possibility of seeing animals on the roadside and, indeed, our driver Kishore saw a small group of wild elephants crossing the road the night before.

  The nature walk in the wide river bed of the Kosi River had been lovely in the late afternoon sunshine the previous day. We saw kingfishers, wagtails, chats and witnessed a bird catching a frog, which was a clever skilled operation. The walk took us to the ancient temple high on a sort of rock-earth stilt which is very atmospheric. The cattle and buffalo coming home at the end of the day is a familiar welcome sight, with woodcutters or wood gatherers with bundles of wood on their heads who respond to a greeting. I thought it was a wonderful spot in which to have a picnic: clear shallow water in which to paddle, beaches of white river pebbles, the riverine jungle and cliffs and, in the distance, the mountain range all bathed in the golden glow of the late afternoon sun.

  Inside the park in the early morning, it was similar to Bandhavgarh and we thought it was lovely and well maintained. At Bijrani, we stopped and, mounting an old elephant called Jaisari, we set off on a delightful two to three hour trek. The pace was tranquil but with the added excitement of seeing fresh pug marks of a tiger. The various alarm calls of a chital and other deer made it plain to us that we were probably being watched and circled. Most definitely, the tiger or tigress was watching us but we could not see her! Jaisari plodded through the undergrowth, eating whenever it took her fancy, which was often. It seemed as if we were walkin
g through an endless elephantine buffet restaurant.