Tea and Mustaches

Give it up for Team Moustache!!

A month ago, we escaped to the mountains to celebrate Alex's birthday. We went to Coonoor, one of several hill towns in the Nilgiri Mountains to which people will flock in droves to escape the heat. It is about 300 miles from the Dutch Oven a.k.a. Vellore. The most popular time to visit is in May, when the heat in southern India is at its worst. The Nilgiris in July is considered to be too chilly for the Indians we've spoken to. Despite that, we were skeptical of how cool it would actually be; as we've mentioned before, Vellore natives wear jackets, scarves, and hats whenever the temperature dips below the 80s. Much to our pleasure, the higher elevation did bring with it refreshingly cool weather that we had only dreamed about. Those jackets in the picture up there -- now those are legit!

We started our journey late one night, wearing headlamps and dragging (not rolling) our wheeled suitcase through dirt and rocks to catch an overnight train from Vellore. We arrived at Mettapalayam, at the base of the mountains, early in the morning to transfer to the much anticipated toy train which ascends the mountain. The thought of riding in an authentic steam train was exciting for us, as well as the Indians aboard. There was raucous whooping each time we entered a tunnel, and groups of men burst spontaneously into Backstreet Boys and Bollywood songs. The train, built in the days of the British Raj, was incredibly uncomfortable -- the seats seemed to be built to 3:4 scale. My knees jammed into the seat in front of me, and Alex had to sit entirely sideways. The views, however were worth it. Banana tree groves and coconut palms gave way to fir trees, cooler air, and the electric green vistas of tea plantations.

Ascending the mountain. The steam train actually makes that "chug-a-chug-a-chug-a-choo-choo" sound!

Monkeys greet and terrorize passengers at an interim stop, where everyone floods out to stretch their legs and buy snacks. They are probably conditioned to think of food when they hear the arrival of the train.

The first glimpse of tea fields.

A woman enjoys the view. On the way back down, we made sure to reserve first class -- actual breathing room.

Water buffalo meandering through the tea fields.

A tea picker.

Mounds of tea leaves at a tea plantation.

We were the Bubba Gump of teas. One afternoon we sat down for a tea tasting. From left to right: silver tip, golden bud, frost, hand rolled, green, black, and CTC (crush, tear, curl) tea. Believe it or not, these are all made from the same tea bush. Only the methods of picking, rolling, or drying yield the different colors and tastes. The silver tip tea is picked by "expert pickers" before dawn, prior to the buds opening up. It was the least bitter.

Happy Birthday to Alex!!
Custom made chocolate cake delivered via room service in the poshest hotel in town? $5. Wearing a fleece? Priceless.

We and the few Indians who dared to test the extreme weather of the Nilgiris in July visited the highest peak in the region. Given the chill at that altitude, countless vendors selling colorful fleece hats welcomed us at the peak. You had to buy one if you didn't want to be ostracized.

Fuchsia and lavender or yellow and brown? What's your pleasure?

"I'll only wear it if it matches."

A street tuf in powder pink.

"Me, too!"

Normally, we'd rather pour cleaning acid into our eyes than think of making a fire. Here, it was not a crazy thought. The smell and sound of crackling wood reminded us of home.

Locals eating lunch in the fields.

And more tea fields. A welcome change from the dust bowl of Vellore. The locals still speak with excitement about the filming of "A Passage to India" in Coonoor twenty years ago. Our driver spoke proudly of giving rides to some of the crew.

Alex gets trailed by some friends.

If you squint, you can see me.

Like many of our other random encounters in India, one day we were taking a walk and caught the sight of incredibly handsome, obviously bred and domesticated dogs in someone's yard -- jarring, as we only see packs of strays in Vellore. Anyhow, as we peered through the fence, a girl invited us in to take a look. She was a very precocious 8 year old who spoke excellent English. She carried herself quite elegantly and marched confidently through the grounds as she explained how her parents bred dogs, and proceeded to give us a comprehensive oration on their current stock -- without us really asking. "I have been a child breeder since the age of 3" she finished in soft tones, crossing her arms behind her back and casting her eyes downward to her foot, pointed and tracing the dirt with her toe -- much like a Degas statue of a ballerina -- in feigned humility. Then, she turned around like a whip and screamed at the top of her lungs at one of the whimpering dogs "SHUT UP!! SHUT UP!! SHUT YOUR MOUTH OR I WILL BEAT YOU!! ALL OF YOU ARE ASKING FOR A BEATING!! SHUT UP!! IF YOU WANT TO EAT EVER AGAIN THEN SHUT THE HELL UP!!" She then turned politely towards us and continued her docile report with only the best of manners.

"SHUT THE HELL UP OR I WILL BEAT YOU!!"

Nervous laughter -- "Perhaps I can take these puppies from you, devil child?"

Also filed under "scary Indian toys" (see June post). Again, that je ne sais quois. We can't really put a finger on why dog ears on an elephant with fused front and hind legs bothered us so much.