Abbey Falls
Abbey Falls / Madikeri / Karnataka / India
January 2005
Madikeri - the destination of one particular bus trip we took - is a relatively quiet hill station in the Kodagu region of Karnataka state, and is also known as ‘The Scotland of India’. On our last day there, Raph and I visited the picturesque Abbey Falls, about eight kilometres out from Madikeri. We walked through coffee and cardamom plantations down to the riverbank - through a ‘Danger’ sign and wire fence - and waded into the refreshingly cool water to the opposite bank, which was tranquil and - apart from us - tourist-free. We perched ourselves on sun-kissed rocks and spent a small amount of time alternating between journal writing and quiet contemplation. It was incredibly peaceful - a state you quickly learn not to take for granted in noisy, overpopulated India.
Not long after, I became aware of a small group of school boys who had surrounded Raph. Soon, a group of about 25 girls came up to me, asking the usual questions: ‘What is your good name?’ and ‘Where from?’, and then the inevitable ‘Aah, you like cricket? Shane Warne, very good player.’ The boys then plucked up the courage to come over to me too. Teachers from the school group also came to introduce themselves. I sneaked a look at Raph only to find him - still inside an elated circle of kids - writing out his name and address on paper for them. I was then asked to do the same for the girls. Then, the photos started. Between the entire group of them, they would have had around five cameras, and I believe they used every last exposure on photos of us. The girls, shy at first, made sure their arms were around me when the flashes went off. The boys clamoured to get their heads in close, but didn’t dare touch.
Signing my ‘autograph’ left and right, I made my way over to Raph to find we’d been invited to eat lunch with the school group. One girl holding each of my arms, and one in front guiding me over the rocky bank, we were directed toward the food: a huge pot of biryani, a traditional Indian rice dish. A teacher snapped off a long stick from a nearby tree, gave it a quick rinse in the river, and used it to stir the rice. We were each given a paper plate piled high with food, and were subjected to the amused giggles of the children, who could tell we weren’t used to eating with our hands. After eating, the children and teachers threw their empty plates into the river, urging us to do the same. Raph and I sheepishly tucked our plates into our backpacks, to be disposed of later. The giggles grew louder, the kids no doubt marvelling at the oddness of these two travellers with whom they had just shared a meal.
The cult of celebrity takes on a new dimension on the subcontinent, where any traveller that looks different enough from the locals will be treated like royalty.