It was a 5am start. Never my favourite. However, we were off to see some animals and it is often the case that dawn is the best time to spot stuff. Ranthambore National Park is 500 square miles of protected land to the SE of Rajasthan. We were collected from the train in open top small trucks. Sixteen people to a truck. We had a reasonable view and I was pleased that I did not have to try to photograph through a window. It had been raining overnight. Serious, heavy rain that I could hear bouncing off the roof of the train. Only just stopped by the time we set off. The roads were muddy with large puddles. The air felt cleaner and fresh. A blessed relief from the smog of Delhi and the people smells in the crowded train.
A short drive took us the park entrance. With very little discussion, by India standards, we were allowed in. Each of the trucks from the train headed off in different directions. The park is divided into sectors. Trucks are allocated a sector to visit. This is to prevent overcrowding in specific areas, I think. We bounced along for a kilometre or so and finally got clear of the rubbish. India is a big rubbish dump. I do not want to sound too rude about this but there is rubbish everywhere. Every street, every river, along the rail tracks. Absolutely all over the place. I guess the locals become so used to it that they stop seeing it anymore. Just seems like a part of life. Fortunately for the wildlife in the park things are a bit more controlled.
We passed a couple of small lakes and spotted some crocodiles. They lurked in the still water with only the tops of their heads and their eyes above the water. Crocodiles are an ancient species. Millions of years before a human ever used a club as a tool, they were prowling and waiting in rivers. Perfectly evolved for their environment. They float quietly until prey get too close. With an incredible burst of primal power, they grab the animal and drag it down to a dark, watery grave. Birds too. Marsh crocodiles have been observed using branches and leaves on their heads as lures. The bird come down to collect some nesting material. By the time the hapless heron realises its mistake the jaws of death are closing around it. Clever and patient the crocodile watches us.
Signs on the truck advise passengers not to get off within the park. Crocodiles might snack on a tourist. So would the Bengal Tigers that the park is famous for. We were told it was unlikely we would see a tiger. Naturally this does not put anyone off hoping to catch a glimpse. Also, monkeys can be a problem. They will not eat you but they might steal your sunglasses or a hat or your camera.
Birdlife is abundant. The Rufous Treepie is bright and colourful. It is a type of crow. Usually, we do not like crows and do not photograph them. This one however looked lovely and took a piece of cake out of Diane’s hand. Red-wattled Lapwings were common along the lakeshores. Nice snack size for a crocodile. We saw several small groups of Great Thick-knee Curlew. Quite a few Peacocks were running around and I spotted an Indian Darter (snakebird) showing off in a tree. I hope this all sounds like I know what I am talking about. The reality is more to do with Google.
There was also White-throated Kingfisher which I identified correctly as being the bird on the label of Kingfisher Beer. Later we spotted a White-breasted Waterhen with outrageously big feet. There was a heron of some sort and whole bunch of Yellow-footed Green Pigeons. Again, normally, no-one wants a pigeon photograph. These, however, were cheerful and cute. Very pretty. Monkeys as well. Grey Langurs were the only ones I could identify. Considered sacred in some areas.
Then our driver got a radio call and we were told to sit down and hang on. There was the possibility of a tiger. The calm, gentle pottering along tracks suddenly turned into a competitive off-road event. Frankly, this was not a great vehicle for muddy tracks. Two-wheel drive and balding tyres. Our driver was not put off however. He slammed the gearbox crunching through gears while we swung perilously round corners. Mud and water sprayed everywhere. We all tried to hold onto something. There were involuntary communal groans when we hit a bump. The suspension had given up trying many years before. But driving like a rally stage worked. We dropped down into a dip and came across a couple of other vehicles.
There, in the bushes to one side, was a Bengal Tiger. 250 kg of apex predator, a perfect killing machine, snoozing in the bushes with his legs in the air. The sheer size of the magnificent animal was impressive. Took no notice of us. No need to really. They know guns are banned and nobody was going to poke him with a stick. We were only there for mere moments. I tried really hard to get a clear photograph through the undergrowth. Then we were off again. Apparently, we were late now so we had to rush back. I think the driver just enjoyed channelling his inner Colin McRae. Almost made it back before the rain started again. The heavens opened. The truck had no canopy. At least the rain was warm. We arrived at the station utterly soaked but triumphant. We had been the only group from the train that saw a tiger.
All that before breakfast. I was hungry. As already mentioned, food on the train was good. Breakfast was a stuffed paratha to accompany a chilli, onion and cheese omelette. A glass of mango lassi, coffee, croissant and I was good to go. Where I actually went was back to bed for an hour. Meanwhile the train moved on down the line a few more miles. Here we all bundled off for a very ordinary drive in a coach to the deserted Mughal City of Fatehpur Sikri. Built by Emperor Akbar in 1580, this was the capital of the Mughal Empire for a brief period before being abandoned, likely due to water scarcity. 20 years from new build to total abandonment. I am sure there should be more to this story but I have not found it yet.
My experience was dominated by the intricate carved sandstone and a man jumping into a water tank. We had a guide. There was quite a large group of people and anyhow I could not understand him. Wandering around on my own I peered over a wall to see a man, 30’ below, waving at me frantically. “I will jump into the water for you” he said, pointing into a large tank of bright green stagnant water. I honestly was not too sure what to make of this. It was a good guess that he would be wanting some money but diving into a lethal lake seemed a bit extreme. I looked around for mutual support. Soon there were a good dozen people looking over the wall. “Don’t worry, it’s my job” he shouted. Whipped his shirt off and leap a good 25’ down into the terrible tank. I was pleased to see him emerge without obvious damage. I imagine the pus oozing sores will erupt later. He was rewarded with a small shower of small notes that we dropped down to him. What a way to make a living.
