Ekla Cholo Re
I stand at Panorama Point looking out at the hills around me: some of them shrouded in fog and cloud, some clearly etched. The wind rustles the grass and overgrowth behind me at arguably one of the best points in Matheran … and now one of the most deserted. There are butterflies flitting by, a light, erratic sprinkling of yellow, purple and white wildflowers, a surprising lone bunch of wild lilies - all among the grass and overgrown bushes that have turned this point half wild. I hear some insect or perhaps a frog rustling around in the bushes. I stand there breathing in the majestic view of the Sahyadris with my senses - and my camera - all by myself.
View of the surrounding hills from Panorama Point
I had been to Matheran twice before; both day-trips with others. Needless to say we barely saw half the place and each time I was left with this lingering desire to stay overnight and explore this quaint hill station thoroughly. After years of waiting for someone to share my interest, I decided I was done depending on others’ company and it was time to take my first proper solo trip.
Now I am the product of a typical middle class Indian family where I was taught, sometimes implicitly and sometimes explicitly, that a woman cannot manage life without a man. To top that, I have been coddled and sheltered to the extent of not really being an independently functional adult. Even the prospect of spending a night alone has been a scary challenge.
Obviously, my solo travel plans were going to be revolutionary - both for me and my family. So, Matheran fit the bill perfectly: I could use the familiar suburban train network to cover most of the distance, I had been there before and if, God forbid, my family were to really panic about my safety at any point, they would be reassured that they could easily travel a few hours to be with me.
So, I did my research on decent hotels where I would come across the right (and hopefully thin) crowd and ended up thoroughly frustrated that most hotels in Matheran are solo-traveller un-friendly. I finally found one that would take in solo travellers without any awkward questions, booked myself a room with the best view, bought myself a backpack for my first on-my-own trip and broke the news one by one to my family members.
After jittery / sulky silent reactions from my family, I set off for Matheran slightly nervous but not seriously flustered. In fact, I was doing great until I actually stepped out for my first afternoon of exploration.
Matheran is the smallest hill station in the country and given sufficient time and stamina it is possible to cover it all on foot by oneself. So, I asked the hotel for a map, circled all the places that I hadn’t yet visited and zeroed in on a couple of them for the day. I trudged off looking for the road to Paymaster Park on the way to Sunset Point.
Grappling with Fears
My biggest fear about this trip (even bigger than spending the night alone, believe it or not) was a run-in with aggressive monkeys. So, every time I saw a group of monkeys and there were no people, horses or dogs in sight to keep them at a distance, I would change my route. It was thus that I missed Paymaster Park and took a circuitous route round to Sunset point running through shaded forest paths with no one in sight except for the occasional bird, squirrel or butterfly. Just the kind of outing I had wanted; except I had not anticipated the low frequency of markers on this path confirming if I was on the right track. Huffing and puffing at the highest speed my sedentary lifestyle would allow my body, I turned onto what seemed like yet another fork in the road with a makeshift painted sign directing visitors towards Sunset Point.
Glad I was at least going the right way and grateful to run into very friendly dogs most of the way and hardly any monkeys, I took the fork indicated by the sign. It was then that I heard something rustle in the dry leaves at the beginning of the deserted path. Soon, I noticed movement out of the corner of my eye and thought it might be yet another squirrel; only to notice a snake’s head retreating into the dry fallen leaves, alert to my presence. I quickly put enough distance between us to make it feel less threatened and rushed onward suddenly noticing all the anthills along the way that could potentially be hiding more snakes.
Now, I was starting to panic. It was getting dark and I was yet to reach my destination, much less make the return journey back to my hotel. Thankfully, I caught sight of a shop in the distance and noticed the railing that ran in a V around it. I was finally at the famous Sunset Point and was relieved to see an elderly shopkeeper quietly painting his shop window blue. He even had a couple of dogs lazing around and best of all, the only monkeys in sight were walking away towards the edge.
The Western view from Sunset Point.
It was a bummer though that the view to the west was marred by fog but the eastern edge was spectacular with a thin waterfall tingling down the hillside opposite. The shopkeeper told me there was no chance of a clear sunset that day and he was planning to pack up and head home. He advised me against taking the road that led on to Louisa point, telling me to go back the way I came because I might at least run into the occasional local that way and it would be a much shorter route.
I seriously doubted that as I had seen nobody except unwanted creatures on that path. But, I wasn’t the local, he was; plus, he was so insistent I decided to heed his advice. He kindly gave me directions to Paymaster Park from where I would easily be able to find my way towards my hotel. After buying a quick drink from him, I reluctantly started back the way I came.
Thankfully, I did run into a lot of Adivasi labourers returning from work and a trio of ladies even assured me that the anthills did not hide anything more sinister than ants. So, I followed the kind shopkeeper’s directions and found myself trailing a bunch of Gujarati ladies in frocks, skirts and hats out for an evening walk. Together we found Paymaster Park and I rushed onto my hotel without any more simian or reptilian encounters.
A little shaken by the experience, I decided if I were to explore the rest of the points on my list which were all distant and spread in different directions, I would need to get over my guilt around hiring a horse.
After surviving my first night alone (with night lamp and TV on), I met the hotel manager first thing in the morning for his advice on the subject of ghodewalas and he stepped out to help me hire a horse. That is how I met Welcome: the gentlest horse I have seen.
My First Horse Ride
Nassir bhai, Welcome’s owner, led me and Welcome slowly down the path to explore Alexandra Point and Rambaugh Point that I had visited on previous trips. But this time we proceeded further than I had been before, to see the Little Chowk Point (where we fed Welcome some glucose biscuits and the shopkeeper’s four dogs also benefited).
On then to One Tree Hill Point (yes, there is a little outcrop with a lone tree on top) and Belvedere Point (really breath-taking this time of year with yellow wild flowers, spectacular drops and the remnants of what must have been the start of a waterfall in the monsoon).
The dried-up remains of a monsoon waterfall at Belvedere Point
The whole ride down this circuit, I noticed a lot of Blue Mormon butterflies crossing our path. At the Owalekarwadi Butterfly Park back in Thane, we were chasing a couple of these black and sky blue beauties that are the state butterflies of Maharashtra. Here in Matheran, they were chasing us.
The state butterfly of Maharashtra: The Blue Mormon
In the evening, Nassir bhai decided to give Welcome a break and offered to be my guide for the more accessible points (Louisa point, Echo point and Charlotte Lake). On the way he narrated me unfortunate stories of tourists who had met with accidents, been pushed off the edge on their honeymoon for dowry, committed suicide due to poor results, etc. He told me I was lucky to get a room in Matheran as a solo traveller. Most hotel owners suspect solo travellers of being potential suicide cases or criminals on the run.
It was a misty day and Charlotte Lake was big, beautiful and peaceful. I wished I could stay longer but, it was getting late and we had to walk back in near darkness while tiny suicidal frogs jumped under our feet.
Serene Charlotte Lake at Dusk
We Save the Best for Last
The next day we had reserved for Panorama Point which along with Garbett point lies the furthest away from the Matheran circuit. These are actually closer to the Dasturi Car Park than Matheran itself. Nassir Bhai told me that the path to Panorama Point used to be a fantastic riding path a couple of decades ago. Since, then it has fallen into disrepair and horse owners were unwilling to bring their horses there anymore. As it is some 5 kms of walking from Matheran station (and just short of 2 kms from the Dasturi car park), the casual tourist who comes to Matheran, no longer visits this point. The result: the path looks like a proper forest with a profusion of plants and bushes covering the old riding path. There was one section full of just Karvi plants and I even found a lone flowering one (it was two years behind schedule). There are sections where the plants have grown to face level and your hands need to join your legs in pushing them apart.
The lone flowering Karvi Plant on the path to Panorama Point
Had I not had a local with me, I would have assumed this path was not safe to navigate. Nassir bhai hadn’t been there in 15 years himself and his 16 year-old son Saqlain like Welcome had never been to Panorama point despite living in Matheran all his life. Welcome’s iron-shod hooves slipped on the occasional rock (I had gotten off him since a little before the rocky patch began). Eventually we came out onto a grassy track and Nassir bhai and his son stopped to gather food for Welcome while I proceeded to the Panorama Point a few metres ahead.
Forest Cover on the trail to Panorama Point
There were no macaques here (as no food stalls or humans with packaged food). We only saw some huge-ass (literally) langurs at one point on the way up here. The langurs are leaf munchers and have no use for packaged human food. They just stayed alert to these human intruders, hoop-hooping a few warnings at us.
View from Panorama Point
So that is how I found myself at the end of the path, in this little piece of wild wonderland where dragonflies photo-bombed me and butterflies brushed past my hair while some hidden bird somewhere challenged me to find it. I saw the stairs and old gate post completely covered in grass and wild bushes. There used to be a vada pav stall somewhere up those stairs but now the platform has been reclaimed by nature.
A Blue Mormon Butterfly flits past me at Panorama Point
For the first time on this trip I was completely devoid of human company and feeling utterly safe. This one walk was all I had hoped for this trip and will remain my defining memory of my first solo vacation.
The grassy hillside at Panorama Point is ripe picking for fodder.
When I was done drinking in my fill of this place, I went back to find Nassir Bhai and Saqlain. They has a sackful of grass packed and we headed back towards Welcome tied up some distance behind and found him with a stalk of grass in his mouth looking even more serene than normal. I gave Welcome’s forehead a few caresses and he shut his eyes enjoying the pampering. Then it was time to head back.
Hill Council Politics
On the way back from Panorama Point, we went by Monkey Point (thankfully also devoid of monkeys) but full of wild flowers. A middle aged man was ducking under the railings to collect the flowers. I asked him why he was risking going to the edge with a steep drop and he assured me he was a local and knew what he was doing. Hoping to God the gentleman wasn’t being over-confident / complacent, I shifted focus towards the distant edge of the hillside that I suspected was Panorama Point. The shopkeeper at Monkey Point confirmed it for me. He reiterated that it was the best point in Matheran and back when it was still in use, he used to take tourists there on his horse. But the municipal council did not seem interested in restoring the path to its former state and so tourists were deprived of the most charming point in Matheran despite paying the entry tax.
Wild-flowers growing all over Matheran
This was a refrain I heard from the horse-owners, the shopkeepers and even the taxi driver who drove me back to Mumbai. Everyone said the tax was collected but not utilized to benefit the tourists in any significant way. The place needs more toilets and better upkeep and clearing of the mud paths that form the trails that ring around and criss-cross this little hill station. I asked them if they had complained. They said it all falls on deaf ears.
I would add that compared to my last visits, Matheran now has more public toilets strategically placed in areas further from the main Bazar Peth. I would like to see Panorama point become functional again and we did notice some cleared and concretized patches in between where locals now stop for water / lunch breaks. But, there is still a long way to go and tourists demanding to see the place might add a bit more pressure on the slow-moving Municipal Council. I do hope they drop the concretization idea though. Just clear the path of fallen rocks and overgrowth and it should be good to go.
Going Solo
During the 4 days and 3 nights I spent on this trip, I learnt to conquer some fears, struggle with others, learn to converse with strangers, puzzle over complex tipping mathematics, trust myself to find my way around and also trust in the goodness of others. I watched some beautiful sun-rises from my hotel room verandah, while sipping tea, reading or writing in my journal. I learnt in the truest sense what it was like to enjoy my own company without worrying about what people around me were thinking of me. If nothing else, this liberating feeling was worth all the effort and money that went into this trip and all the small risks I took seemed justified.
Enjoying the Sunrise from my hotel room one last time. The Garbett plateau is in the distance.
I know experientially now that my family is wrong about women not managing on their own. I may not always have been safe (this is a forest after all) but my instincts would pull me out of any tricky situations. Most importantly, there are still a lot of friendly, kind, trust-worthy people in the world who don’t mind lending a hand when you need it.
I would love to share this experience with other women who think they always need company to do the things they love; who think they would be lost on their own. It is not as bad as all that. You can start small like me and take baby steps to break out of the shackles of dependency on others. Here are some things I have done before I was ready to take a solo trip:
1. Try a new route to work every once in a while.
2. Go shopping on your own for something you love: books, music, jewellery.
3. Catch that movie that you have been breathlessly waiting for but none of your friends want to see.
4. Go to a tea / coffee shop with just a book, music player, or your quilling supplies for company.
5. Visit the museum or art gallery and linger at exhibits that interest you without worrying about boring a companion.
6. Join a heritage walk, nature trail or organized trip and learn from experts.
In short, do everything on your own that you thought you needed company to do. Discover how some of these experiences are enhanced when you are alone or with like-minded people. And go for that lone last row, centre seat at the movie theatre that you would only be able to get at the last minute by going solo. [You’re welcome. ;-) ]