Vagamon was not one of those trips I was
sure would happen but it did, and it left me with a sense of achievement. This
was my first long drive as the sole driver and I am proud to say I completed it
with not so much as a scratch on my Asta. The days spend at the Kurisumala
Ashram would make the trip more than worthwhile.
We left Kottayam by about 11 a.m. Asta had
3 passengers on board – me, my friend and her daughter. The drive was pretty straightforward with few
complications on the road. The roads were pretty good for Indian standards
except in a few places and there were ample signboards indicating we were on
the right track. We drove via Ettumanoor to Pala and from there took a turning
towards Eratupetta. At Erattupetta I must warn drivers to be careful because
the roads are bad, but more than that the drivers I came across were rather
reckless. We took a slight deviation at ----- accidentally but saved a kilometre in
driving and got an amazing river view.
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| The river view |
From there we went onwards to Teekoy after
which we began our upward descent towards Vagamon. The young man we asked for
directions had confirmed we were on the right road. The traffic was sparse and
the roads though curvy were beautiful. My friend snapped very few pictures as
she was busy admiring the scenery. I did stop on the way at some point to take
a few shots and saw some other bikers doing the same.
We thought we had overshot our destination.
But at Spice Garden, the roadside restaurant where we stopped for lunch, the
waiters confirmed we were yet to reach the place and would come across the arch
to the place in about 2 kms. We had vegetarian meals for lunch (we’re all
veggies). The view of the mountains from between trees complimented our simple
food. The avial, they served with the food was rather different and tasty. We
resumed our journey and my friend soon spotted the arch. We confirmed
directions at the shop opposite and began the climb to the ashram.
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| View of the mountains from the restaurant |
We were stopped by the security guard at
the gate but on being informed we had prior permission he gave us directions on
where to park and then let us in. Asta made the climb slowly as I wanted to
enjoy the beautiful view as well. Tourists are not allowed to take their
vehicles inside and so we passed a lot of people on foot. We reached the
parking area after almost making a wrong turning. The mists were beginning to
form and the view was already amazing.
We had to wait to meet the priest who was
arranging our stay, as he was in the midst of prayer. So we took a quick peek
at the gardens and admired their beauty. We then went back to the main building
of the ashram that housed the chapel and decided to spend some time in prayer.
I guess I was easily noticeable with my denim jacket as the priest tapped me on
the shoulder and beckoned me. He explained our living arrangements for our
brief stay. He asked us to take tea with everyone before going to our rooms. We
got a glass full of tea and a slice of homemade brown bread, which was
refreshing.
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| Flowers near the pond |
A nun showed us to our rooms and after a
quick freshening up and a few minutes rest, we decided to visit the library,
both of us being bookworms. My friend and I were already awed by all that we
were seeing. We went and sat in the library and I found a book that took up my
attention. The library was small but focused and in no time the 3 of us were
totally immersed in reading. My friend and her daughter decided to go for a
walk and I opted to stay on and read.
Soon it was time for evening prayer and we
joined the others in the chapel. The evening prayer was different from the
rites I was used to, combining a bit of the Indian with English prayers. It
added to the overall mysticality I was already experiencing.
After prayers, dinner was served Indian
style on the floor. We sat on mats and ate from steel plates. The food was
simple – rice, chutney and beans (payar). But despite the atmosphere of silence
we couldn’t help silently mouthing to each other – Yum! It truly was the
tastiest simple meal I had eaten. After lunch we moved to our rooms and decided
to retire early. We realized we had
forgotten about Satsangh (Bhajan session). But decided to skip it as I had a
long day and just wanted to read and get some sleep. I didn’t sleep too well
though because something kept crawling over the tarpaulin above my bed and I’m
scared of rats and other creepy crawlies of the night. I finally switched on
the light and crawled back under the mosquito net that my friend had put up in
case something fell on me.
I woke shortly after 3 a.m. and realized I
could attend the night vigil. So I got dressed, left a note behind and went up
to the chapel. Following the vigil was meditation after which there was mass.
During meditation period I wondered where the priests had disappeared to but
realized later that they had gone off to get everything ready for the mass and
the ensuing breakfast. I know this because when I went to drink some hot water
I saw priests in the garden with a torch, picking flowers for mass. My friend
who had decided to return to the library said that a priest had come there and
baked bread for mass on a stovetop in the room.
The morning mass was altogether an
interesting experience. To me it
appeared to be a mix of the Syro-Malabar rite with Indian elements. Sitting on
the floor cross-legged for most of the mass including the priests, doing
rituals of pooja, prayers that were combining elements of different faiths: the
blend of all these Indian elements made the experience a beautiful one for me.
If not for the leg cramps, I think I would have enjoyed it even more.
After mass we proceeded for breakfast –
homemade bread and peas curry, with herbal chai, yummy of course beyond bounds.
The priest had asked me when we were leaving and we had said soon he had told
me that he would inform the abbot so that we could meet him before we left.
After breakfast we were shown into the priest’s room where he asked us about
ourselves and our stay and then gave us his blessings. We thanked him for
everything as well as the priest who had looked after us. After returning the
book I had taken, to the library and asking for permission to take pictures, we
took our stuff and left it in the car.
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| View from a window |
Then we decided to look around before we
finally left. The fields and plants certainly enthralled us and this photo
enthusiast took several pictures. My friend’s daughter and I visited the stable
s of the farm and saw some of the cows that had made the dairy farm famous.
Almost all of them had already been taken out to the pastures for feeding and
so we saw very few of them. The day we came we had already seen how the milk
was being packed using a special machine.
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| Cows grazing |
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| One of the cows we got to see up close |
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| The milking station |
After looking at the cows we decided to
begin our return journey. Feeling sad we could not spend more time there we
began our return drive, stopping several times on the way back through the
ashram premises to take pictures. We also waved goodbye to one of the kindly
fathers we saw on the wave. The return journey was pretty uneventful except for
the near crash I had with a distracted driver who probably thought the road was
his property and so could drive up either track irrespective of my blaring
horn.
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| View from the ashram |
We did stop at View Point to take some
pictures and my friend finally got her ice-cream. As we sat eating ice-cream we
saw a group of kids with teachers stopping for breakfast. My friend was most
pleased to see them bringing out steel plates instead of paper ones. She got a
chance to speak to an adult in the group and commended them on their
environment consciousness. It was a Sunday school class and they too said that
it was because they had not wanted to spoil the environment like most tourists.
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| Ice-cream finally |
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| Asta takes a break from driving |
The rest of the drive was uneventful. We
did stop at a tiny shop on the way called Arun, to pick up some snacks for
those back home. Too soon we found ourselves home, with some snapshots and memories
to remind us of what we had experienced.
