Day 10  12^th Jan 13        The boat trip and ‘activities with elephants.’

No visible bites, the anti stuff is good.

For breakfast the menu says I could have;

‘smashed cheese on grilled toast – or -  smashed cheese and chicken on grilled toast.’

Blue skies and warm sun, outside very tall slender palm trees sway in the breeze; they look as if the tops will bend down to the ground and spring back. Another boat trip instead of a nature walk, a sitting down more comfortable way to view wild life in the Periyar Sanctuary. As a protected tiger reserve the book says, ‘don’t wonder if you see a lone tiger gently walking in the woods.’ Yes please. We drive to the car park and all the plaster saints in their shrines by the road have been polished, their strange pink faces smile down on us benignly. I walk to the boats with other sightseers. It is a holiday and festival day. My guide ushers me to the front of the queue and onto the ferry.

The boats are full of people but I have a numbered seat upstairs. A young man and two boys smile and I sit next to them. He is a physiotherapist employed as an aid worker in Tamil Nadu a large adjacent state North East of Kerala. He tells me it is a poor area and he has brought the two village boys on a day out as a reward for good work in school. It reminds me of Barnardos. He was adopted by an American couple as a child and when he grew up wanted to come back and help the community where he was born. It is interesting talking to him as the boat chugs slowly round the lake. We see a few buffalo, some wild boar and a bird feeding her young in a nest at the top of a dead tree stump but no tigers or elephants for me to 'wonder' at. I am hoping the boat doesn't capsize because the compulsory life jackets are so cumbersome I think they would drown us if we fell in the water.

We reach the end and turn round.

Disembarking I get caught up with a large family and we walk up together. A young woman smiles, puts a strong arm round my shoulders and hugs me. She smells of garlic. I smile and she says something to her family. They take a photo. That does it, everyone wants a photo with the short white haired woman on her own. They gather round and take turns, children and wives hugging, men modestly standing next to me. I enjoy a moment of fame. If you don't see tigers and elephants - photograph the next best example of wildlife - me. I return to Kieran with my new friends clustered around me.

Back to the hotel for lunch and a siesta to sit by the pool with a cup of sweet Marsala tea and a swim. I remember not to get my own towel or umbrella and here is George, waiting attendance.

Later Kieran and I go for 'activities' with the elephants. He says, 'so sorry Mem I am not wearing trousers but I have a bad leg.' He shows me a painful looking abscess on his shin. He says he has seen a Doctor.

'I am having one injection here (bum) one here (arm) and antibiotics to take.' Poor Kieran trousers would just irritate it. He is wearing a lungi the Keralan version of a dhoti and a T shirt. Good idea.

The lungi is a popular garment and worn by the majority of men here. They wear it tucked up if it's hot and down round the ankles for modesty when talking to a woman or in church. I know this because when I approach they untuck them. At first it gave me a start. A middle aged man near to me suddenly flapped his arms and took hold of the corners of his lungi to untuck it and cover his legs. I wondered briefly what he was going to do. All in the mind........  

I suggest to Kieran because of his bad leg he sits in the back tomorrow and drinks water while I take over the driving. I know how to drive, I've been watching. It is just beep, beep, beep and rush rush in between vehicles. I was sure we'd be fine. He looks bemused and unconvinced although my mime of driving in India makes him laugh. 'Well' I say, 'then take your antibiotics and get a good  nights sleep. No going out with your friends in Kumarakom tonight drinking cold beers. This is what I would tell my son.'

'OK Mummi' he chuckles and for the rest of the trip my new name sticks. I can't believe he will be comfortable. I know he sleeps in the car but he's at least six foot. He keeps his clean shirts (a new white one every day) hanging in the back. There is no other evidence that he is living in the car this week except that I have already asked him. All the drivers do it.

We set off for the elephants and turn into a dusty car park with a few sheds. Some people are waiting on a wooden platform and sure enough the elephant I saw at the spice garden comes plodding up the path. It is a seriously BIG animal. I don't want to ride it but have to have photos standing next to it - trunk up and trunk down.

They tell me the bull elephants are at the festival. This one appeared fed up, tired and bored. I looked into her eyes but they were far away lost in her past, detached from here. I wondered why she co-operated. She had a chain wound round her ankle. It wasn't chafing but a symbol of her compliance with the diminutive animals that wanted to train, touch, ride on, marvel at and photograph her. I think it was her massive passivity that touched my heart. 

She enjoyed a good shower and long drink but I was sorry to see her like this. I knew I wouldn't like the activities with elephants.

Tomorrow the Western Ghats and tea plantations.