High on an Elephant.

The elephant cow chosen as my ride had the most calm and docile temperament, perfect for a novice like me. The thick rope tied around her neck was loose enough for me to get a firm grip and each of my feet fit snugly in the hollow behind her huge ears. These are much the same as the small hollows behind our own ears where one can insert a fingertip. It’s so important to get the sitting posture right because when the animal ascends or descends a river bank, the gradient can be as much as forty degrees. Believe me if you don’t know how to sit you can easily fall off and hurt yourself badly and even be trampled by the beast.

I was attempting to learn not master, how to ride an elephant in a single day, just so that I could do a jungle safari bare-back for a couple of hours. So for me to get used to the undulating lumber the mahout led the elephant, with me in the seat, around the river area where there was both tall grass and the river embankment. She was a truly gentle creature whose thick coarse strands of hair seemed to pop out of her head. I felt an immediate affection for her and absolutely no fear. Occasionally her trunk would fumble around to check where my feet were, then she’d let out an almost inaudible low rumble, it was a very comforting sound that resonated through my body. Elephants are known to communicate long distances in this manner, and use the soles of their feet as listening receptacles. At close proximity elephants love physical contact and can display a high degree of affection and concern for one another, even for the dead!

My next lesson taught me how to steer left, right, straight ahead or stop. I learnt some very simple commands; depending on which foot prodded her behind the ear and she’d move in the opposite direction i.e. a left foot meant right turn and opposite for the right foot. To get her moving ahead I would simply prod her behind the ears with both feet and call out ‘ugath’. To stop I dug my heels into her shoulders and call out ‘arr’. By the way I had to sit between her shoulders and head, the reason I mention this is because there is very little neck on an elephant and it seems you are almost sitting on her head. At the end of the day one must remember that elephants in Nepal only understand Nepali and the constant ‘conversation’ between a mahout and his elephant creates a very personal bond that cannot be achieved by some day scholar. Pachyderms on the Indian subcontinent and in Indo-China region are far more docile and can be trained very well. However the African Elephant which is much larger has been an extremely difficult animal to train. As a result there are very few safaris in Africa that offer elephant rides.

My feet tingled with excitement when the next morning the three elephants lumbered into the jungles of Chitwan. I was in the middle, a wise place to be! and as an additional precaution the regular mahout sat on her back a little further back actually.

The one thing all my years visiting jungles has taught me – you can never be certain about what one will see. So I have learnt to thoroughly enjoy the very habitat and treat every bird or animal I actually see as bonus, this way I’m never disappointed. As we silently plunged into the tall grass that covered vast areas of the river bank, the feet of this heavy beast carved a path among the pale green blades. Despite the size we made no sound as we progressed to water’s edge. I could see the lead Mahout point to the opposite bank and there in the wet mud basked a crocodile. But it had seen us and in a few seconds disappeared, head first, into the brown rushing waters. We lumbered on into the waters; I must admit this was the only part that I was worried about. We tread straight across the waters and up the far bank; I was slowly getting the hand of bending against the angle to compensate the shifting point of gravity. It was much like sitting on a horse bucking in slow motion. We kept a steady pace behind the lead animal as long as we were in the grasslands. But now I could see the tree line approaching.

Once inside the forest my elephant required a lot more manoeuvring and I had to concentrate far more on my riding. This meant that I kept getting smacked in the face with thin branches and leaves and even getting my face full of spider webs and insects. One time it seemed I lost sight of the elephant in front until we nearly bumped into its rear. I almost came alongside the other beast when the mahout motioned with his head at the rhino standing straight ahead in the path. Neither animal wanted to give way and for a few unnerving moments there was a tense standoff, until the Rhino angrily stormed off into the brush.

There is ‘almost’ no danger when you are on top of an elephant not even from tigers; however the only trouble comes from large elephant bulls. I was told of rare instances when a mahout meets a tusker, his elephant is charged and chased out of the jungle. Though it is not often that they venture to the fringes of the forest, however in Chitwan wild tuskers are known to raid the pens when the females are in oestrus apparently that’s how my elephant became pregnant! Mostly elephant cows are used to ferry people and tourists in the area.

It was a great morning out in the jungle; we had seen Cheetal, Sambhar, peacock by the dozen and a number of other birds and animals but above all that I was most happy with the fact that I rode into the jungle on an elephant and didn’t need the mahout to come to my rescue at any time during that entire trip.

That night slept came easily and certainly not because of the large glass of Raxshy, the local liquor, which I happily sipped through the evening. Only the loud but distant roar of a tiger sometime in the early parts of pre dawn opened my eyes, albeit for a few seconds. In the jungle I am so consumed with happenings around me that nothing else can occupy even the fringes of my imagination. It is in this state I know I will encounter that one moment, that something I’ll see or experience which will remain a special spark for the rest of my life. My moment came early the next morning. As I stepped out of the wooden cottage, there partly hidden by the bushes near the river a large antlered Sambhar grazed, its coat was dappled in the soft sunshine of morning. At the sound of the door opening it razed its head, looked at me and slowly waded across the river and into the grasslands on the opposite bank. I sat there for a long, long while staring aimlessly after it, the morning was cold and mist inches high above the undergrowth. To the left came the hysterical call of a lapwing screaming ‘did-you-do-it?!’ while grey wagtails dipped their tails to the sun as they hopped across the narrow strip of grass a few yards away from where I sat on the steps of the cottage.

Surely this was paradise anew.

Jewel of the Desert

Excerpts from "My timeless travels" by travel & food writer Girish Khare

Timeless crags seem carelessly strewn across an arid landscape. I’m worried about the heat and dust of Sinai, mind you its mid summer, so I can’t be laughed at for being so hassled. Whizzing past our vehicle are a host of top-of-the-line resorts; Hilton, Mobem Peck, Savoy, Hyatt, Marriot, etc some of them with as many as 2000 plus rooms, cottages and villas! They, however, hide one part of the engaging extremities of Sharm El Sheikh, the turquoise sea. The lack of green cover sharpens the suns rays to knife edge effectiveness, singeing my skin. But will you believe me if I said it was not hot?

The level of satisfaction a holiday provides is in direct relation to the state of one’s mind and equally the measure or absence of expectation. Perhaps that’s why I enjoyed the Sharm El Sheikh experience. The resort we stayed at wasn’t ‘spectacular’, but that’s precisely what made the difference … the ambience, not just the topless European beauties (!) at the pool and beach; the whole atmosphere was charged, gigantic speakers by the pool belted out great music, artisans, masseuse and the smiling staff all set the pace for a delightful stay. It was a kind of mini global community, Swiss, Poles, English, Russians, Italians, Malays, Japanese, Australian, us Indians, and a very stingy sprinkle of Americans. It was a kind of Mediterranean with a blend of Arabian fun. I always find it strange that resorts near the sea have a swimming pool, but here the invigorating thump of the double bass created the rhythm for life.

On the Red Sea at the tip of the sparse Sinai Peninsula - the Gulf of Aqaba and Saudi Arabia off to one side, the Gulf of Suez and Egypt's Eastern Desert off to the other - Sharm el-Sheikh has an imposing location. This resort town has become known throughout the world as the site for delicate and high level Middle East peace conferences. When it is not playing host to the leaders of pivotal global nations, it is welcoming a constant influx of professional and recreational divers who come for premier and pristine rock, sand, wreck and reef diving experiences. The adventure element is inescapable - camel riding, desert safaris, water sports and even an underwater shark observatory. But, contrasting the stark terrain, creature comforts and amenities also abound - casinos, discos, nightclubs with live entertainment, an amusement park, shopping precincts, bazaars, golf courses, tennis courts, health clubs and even a Hard Rock Cafe.

Sharm is a pure fun destination, unlikely as that may sound. Even the Desert services up the most spectacular sights and sounds. One night we drove out into the darkness of the desert, it was moonless and only the headlights of our Toyota sliced the night like giant flashbulbs. We couldn’t see the road that made the driver turn left and right, so purposefully at invisible intersections. Finally in a pitch black night the soft glow of flickering light was visible behind what appeared to be a high sand dune. But as we turned the corner, we encountered the wild beats of the desert drums and the frenzied dancing of young Egyptian girls and boys in the raised circular platform in the centre of a fairly large gathering. Couples reclined on divan’s and bolsters drawing on scented sheesha smoke while admiring the shapely young women enjoying themselves.

Everything about Egyptians has a sensual approach; they like to believe it’s romantic. For instance I was constantly approached to enquire how many camels I wanted for the hand of one of the two young women traveling with us. I am not sure whether that was a way to break the ice or compliment the girls or if they really meant it. But asked they did…And no the young women were not related to me but may grey beard somehow advertising the misleading notion that I was the father (!) The math was right, but hullo that’s pretty presumptuous! This happened to us EVERYWHERE in Egypt, without exception. The Italian men may have serious competition now.

For you guys out there, the Egyptian women’s skin is smooth as ornamental alabaster and a large percentage good looking. Though they also have a flirtatious angle to their communication, that’s just a style don’t get carried away! Out there in the middle of the desert, we saw this group of young women with their guys, pulling on sheesha’s and shanking a leg like the best anywhere in the world. By the way they are shapely as well; all of them were in shorts and T shirts! Brother, if it wasn’t so cool at night, it would certainly have been hot under the collar. I must add that with all this gyrating and amorous behaviour no one, neither girl nor guy stepped out of line… no cat calls, no hitch ups (as most men might expect) it was good clean fun.

Then there was the Belly dancer and the Dervish swirl – god it makes you dizzy. And a great grill of meats served up with some ‘hot-strange’ brew to wash it down. I’d say don’t miss a night in the desert, whatever else you do at a sea side resort on the Red sea.

Another treat, frankly surprise, awaited us the very next evening. We visited the fashionable area of Naama bay. Naama bay is more like a kilometer long open air mall, lined by fabulous eating places on either side. The atmosphere is reminiscent of Cannes by the sea (devoid of automobiles), with togged up gentry enjoying a tipple and watching the world go by. You find every nationality under the sun staring right back at you as you stroll down the breeze swept paved walkway in the cool of the evening. All sorts of wonderful stuff are sold in the smartly dressed shops and showrooms along the way. And you may encounter a someone else’s hand in your pocket helping you spend your money… so beware of politely phrased questions that go like this…‘Sir/madam do tell me how I can spend your money for you?’ or better still beware of ‘Amitabh Bashaan? Please come to my shop and write something in my guest book in Indian’ fall for that and you’ll be suckered into spending some money… mostly on stuff you don’t want. And before you suddenly begin to develop an air cushion under the feet (for being called AB), they refer to all Indian’s as Amitabh Bashaan… and if you don’t smile back and quickly walk away, you might end up having to listen to a bad rendition of Mehbooba! With apologies to Ra, the big B has certainly replaced the sun god in that part of the world.

For me, one of the most memorable parts of the trip was the underwater life on the coral reefs that hug the coastal shelf along the relatively small bays around Sharm. You can watch dolphins and even swim with them. You can dive and snorkel and enjoy the mildly warm, sapphire blue, crystal clear water. Even in the submerged sailing glass house we witnessed an array of wildlife including jelly fish, blue flying fish, parrot fish, packs of marauding mullet, the incorrigible sergeant major, the fashionable butterfly fish, puffer, trigger, fan coral, the deadly fire coral, oh I could go on and on. Two hours drive from Sharm is the ancient monastery of St Catherine and the brilliantly natural carved salt sculptures in the middle of nowhere. As a matter of fact Sharm el Sheikh is a surprise package; it’s a uniquely different perspective of life. It’s fun in the sun like you’ve never known all your life.