This was an early day, but on purpose. We had to be in the lobby ready to go four our Tiger Safari at 6:00am. Of all of the things we were going to do, I was probably most excited for this. I had absolutely no idea what to expect for this safari. The closest thing I have ever done to anything like this was the tram tour at the San Diego Zoo. I was hoping it would be at least similar to that. Boy was I wrong.
Amber and I walk up to the reception at precisely 5:59am. Side note: thank fucking god she is punctual. The gentleman who served us dinner the night before, whose name I would learn at lunch was Imran, had tea (for Amber), diet coke (for me), and cookies ready to go. Well, cookies and crackers. Another side note: it’s quite discombobulating when you’re not fully awake and bite in to a ritz cracker thinking it will be a shortbread cookie. I cleared my pallet with a swig of my D coke and continued to munch on the goodies, paying a little more attention to what I was putting in my mouth.
The universe must have known once we had depleted our short breads, because our ride was here. Again, I wasn’t sure what to expect, so when a jeep rolled up with two tiered benches in the open-air pack portion, I was super excited. Naturally Amber and I chose the back row. Since it was slightly elevated we could see over the canopy that covered the driver and passenger, so I figured we would have a good view.
This decision proved to be the right one for so many more factors. As we zipped down the dirt road that connected our resort to the main highway, Amber and I got a taste of what we were in for. First of all, thank god that the resort provided us blankets because it was legitimately cold that early in the morning. Secondly, thank god I had a jacket whose sleeves extended to cover my hands because, again, it was legitimately cold that morning. Thirdly, thank god I had good grip strength, despite it being legitimately cold that morning. With every bump we traversed, we felt the exponential results nearly getting air on a number of times (and one time actually getting air, but I am getting ahead of myself).
Our driver/safari guide informed us we had to pick up four more people and then we would go to the reserve. I told Amber that I really hoped one of the people was sick so they couldn’t make it since these benches were not made to accommodate three people if one of them was as wide as I.
After a short jaunt on the main road, we headed back on a dirt path through these gorgeous keyhole gates to a resort that I hope one day I am rich enough to afford. There were other jeeps there picking up folks for their morning safaris. I waited with bated breath to see who would be accompanying us. Turns out it was a delightful family of four from Paris who would be riding next to us. Naturally I was stoked.
The mother and two sons, aged ten and eight, sat in the row in front of us while the father sat next to me. Thankfully he was French so he fit. We got to talking between holding our breath as we made our way through town to get to the entry gate for our zone. I can’t remember how it came up, but I told him that I was a travel agent. He told me that he used to be one, and had worked for Thomas Cook. Bless his heart.
As we kept chatting, he told us that this was his family’s fourth safari in Ranthambore. They had done other zones, but had heard that the one we were headed to today was the best for tiger sightings. He also said that the day before they had been in a canter, which I came to learn was the twenty-person safari vehicle. He said that the jeep experience was way better. I can’t compare, but I would imagine he is right.
After nearly running over a few hogs in the middle of the road, passing numerous camels and buffalo, and having the smell of burning trash fill my nostrils as we drove through was would make even the worst slums of the United States look decent, we arrived to the gate of the reserve.
Once inside, I was surprised at the terrain. The zone we were safari-ing in was one of the larger zones in the park. Zone six has virtually every type of terrain the park has to offer. We saw grasslands, which I would assume are similar to those of the Serengeti and jungles that weren’t quite as dense as those in the jungle book, but close enough to let the imagination run wild.
As we drove we all were on high alert for tigers. I assumed that they wouldn’t be close to the road so I brought my, and by my I mean the one my father let me borrow, telephoto lens. As we drove around the grassland, we saw several spotted deer. Despite the fact that they are the most common animal in the park, I was still in awe seeing a wild animal that would be food for the one we were looking for, just chilling.
Driving around the reserve, we didn’t go particularly fast. The sun was up now, but we were still in the shade of the high canyon walls that surrounded this zone, so it was still chilly. The trails were decently groomed, but we bounced around quite a bit. Because I am a large human, I let Amber sit on the outside so she wouldn’t have to try to look over me. The Frenchman and I quickly realized personal space was a privilege that this safari jeep did not afford either one of us.
As we drove, we saw a veritable menagerie of animals, if the menagerie of animals consisted of like, five species. We saw, as previously mentioned, spotted deer, but also Peacocks and Peahens, wild boar, owls, canaries, and another species of deer I can only, and I think incredibly accurately, call the big ass deer. Our driver said that the B.A. Deer were the tiger’s favorite food because they have poor eyesight, are sort of slow, and have tender and salty meat. I also realized that it was basically me if I were a deer…
The safari took us to every corner of the zone. From the creek to the grassland to the semi-dense forest, we trekked far and wide looking for the tigers. Our guide told us that this zone had one female and three cubs. He also stopped several times and showed us paw prints, letting us know she was on the move.
At one point we heard this strange high pitched warble. I thought it was a bird, but the Frenchman told us it was the sound that the spotted deer make when they see a tiger to warn their friends. Unfortunately it was a fake call. Until it wasn’t. As soon as our guide heard it, he said to hold on and hauled ass. And by hauled ass, I mean this time we literally got air as we went over some bumps. We had to be going at least forty miles per hour, despite those of us in the back being elevated with no seat belts. It. Was. Incredible.
Ripping through the park at speeds that should have terrified me, I felt this overwhelming sense of exhilaration. I may or may not have been humming the Indiana Jones theme as we drove (I did…). We found the spot where the spotted deer were gathered, but unfortunately there was no evidence that a tiger was close by. But I didn’t care. That exhilarating rush of semi-but absolutely real danger was intoxicating. I was having the time of my life, and my best friend was sitting next to me having the time of hers.
We continued to search for tigers for the three hours we were allowed in the park. We came up short and left without seeing one, though. However, it just solidified my desire to come back to this particular part of India and give it another go.
Once we said au revoir to our new French friends, we headed back to our hotel. I should mention that from about a third of the way in to the safari I had to pee. Really badly. Bouncing around and bumping around on a full bladder would be the only I would change about my experience.
Back at the hotel, we decided that we were going to have lunch around 1:00pm since Bablu would be there at 2:00pm to take us to the Monkey Fort. That gave me just under two hours to nap, for which I was quite thankful. I was a little bummed I wasn’t taking advantage of our quaint and cozy patio but papa needed some beauty sleep, as the bags under my eyes reminded me.
An hour and a half nap and one decently good lunch later, Bablu, Amber and I were on our way to the Ranthambore fort. Bablu had promised us as we drove in “very very monkey” at the fort, so I was super excited. I could add this to list of wild animals I have seen on this trip. Plus, the Frenchman said that there was a tiger who liked to hang out in close proximity to the fort, so I still had my hopes up I would see one (spoiler: I didn’t).
Bablu stopped at the bottom of the hill and went inside of some building. He came out with a female who got in to our car. I assumed she was our guide. I was wrong. Turns out she was a female police officer who needed a lift up to the fort area for some reason. She was nice and she and Bablu apparently had quite the riveting conversation the entire way up to the fort.
This fort was the only one we had gone to where the was no entry fee. But India didn’t disappoint because we could pay to have a guide take us around the fort. Aside from Bablu and hotels, I wasn’t quite sure what the tour we paid for included…. But being the history nerd that I am and the good friend she was, Amber and I opted in for a guide.
Now most of the things I know about this fort very well could be wrong because despite his best efforts, I couldn’t really understand the guide. I should note that his English was infinitely better than my Hindi, in that he knew any English.
Highlights of the fort included a visit to the Temple of Ganesh where I was appointed with an orange dot in the center of my forehead and given this sweet mixture of peanuts and probably other things that had the consistency of sand. After a bite, I politely told the guide that I couldn’t eat any more because it was too sweet for me. He said no problem and I should just give it to a monkey. Clearly the monkeys were used to getting sweeties from tourists because this one cheeky monkey came up and grabbed it from my hand. Much to Amber’s chagrin, that monkey moved with lightning speed so I have no photographic evidence of me feeding the monkey, but there are photos of us letting the monkey drink from our water bottles. And no, we did not drink from it either before or after the monkey did.
The fort itself was gorgeous. I really wish that I had retained more information about it, but the tl;dr version of things I can remember include that unmarried Hindu women were sacrificed there, the right angles after the gates prevented elephants from being able to rush the pathways, Ranthambore means Hill Valley Fort, and monkeys like sweet nut balls. I’m sure that after perusing the Wikipedia page for the fort I will be reminded of what the guide said or a lot of what the guide said will make sense.
After we got our fill of monkey pictures, we headed back down the hill to the carpark. We trekked down the four-hundred and eighty meters we had climbed to get to the fort and hopped back in the car. We had no other plans that night, so Amber and I decided to get some Kingfishers and sit on the patio and do some work. For those who have yet to try the greatness that is the official beer of India, be warned: they are strong. At 7.2% alcohol, they are not for the light weights of the world.
I hadn’t been drinking much as of late so they definitely hit me hard. And definitely led to the best night of the trip so far. After deep conversations that made her and my friendship even closer and stronger than it was, we headed to dinner. I had a serious case of the giggles, thanks to the giggle juice I had been drinking for the previous three hours. Three large beers later, I was laughing so hard I was crying in the middle of the resort’s dining room.
To be fair it was actually at the table and we were the only people in the dining room. But there is videographic proof that I was three sheets and having the time of my life. I cannot reiterate this enough: find a friend that makes you laugh.
After dinner we headed back to our room, popped a melatonin and threw on some Schitt’s Creek, as was our nightly ritual. We were heading to Jaipur the following day, so we wanted to get a good night’s sleep and be ready for our long car journey ahead. And Bablu would be there at 9:00am sharp!
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