Testy Trucks and Super Spiders

Daphne won't move. It is a beautiful Friday morning and we are all ready to go (albeit with a longing to stay..I adore this place). Figure her clutch is bad. There are far worse places to be stranded. We pile out and those who haven't eaten head to breakfast. Some of us go on a lovely paddled boat ride on the river.  It really is a gorgeous morning. The remainder of the afternoon is spent in the treetop bar, chatting and consuming drinks. For those of us not tending to the truck, it's all about RELAXING.
Our replacement truck arrives at nearly 5pm. It is the epitomy of the tourist tour bus.  Hmm. I am disappointed, Reclining seats, air, carpeting. Others love it, one being our 4 months pregnant, Norwegian cohort Hege...she has good reason. Nik is left behind to deal with the temporamental Daphne.  I have a feeling we won't see her again soon.
The ride is as smooth as can be with a driver that tries to break the sound barrier at times. The roads are curvy and narrow, putting the narrow roads of England to shame.  He is forever competing with every mode of transportation available.  One or two fellow travelers remain ill. It is the curries I am told.  (I would blame the meat, as I remain strictly vegetarian, but one of our ill mates is as well and still suffers.)

The countryside is lush and glorious, the people exotic and beautiful. I am stunned by the beauty of it. Yet, I am a county girl and see no such glory in the city. The 'homes' are rustic huts of mud and straw, like a huge step back to ages past. Most people are shoeless. What they must think of us gliding by in a vehicle that costs more than most anyone in this place could even imagine in a lifetime. It is vulgar at best.  Most of us are angry that Daphne failed us.  We are not touchable or fascinating to the locals anymore.  Just wealthy travelers looking out at the masses in our elaborate bus. It makes me sad. That part of the experience now gone.

We arrive late, tired and stressed at Bandavgarh National Park.  These long days of driving get to all of us.  Hired drivers are impatient, and rushed...frequently stopping at inconvenient roadsides to 'accommodate' those ill or needing a pit stop. I miss Daphne, with Nik or Tamar at the wheel.

The park is in the appearance of a military camp it seems....nothing warm or cozy about it.  We must put our tents up on the sandy ground under the trees.  Trees loaded with mad monkeys and spiders far larger than any I am used to.  Supper is again late.  Matt likes the 'mess hall'.  I don't care for the staff.  They are rather stone-faced and unwelcoming. It is not the Ken River Lodge by any stretch. It is government run...that explains it. Matt and Amber (a fellow somwhat 'spoiled' gal from New Orleans...that works for a corporate cruise line and I am sad to say...it shows) are quite apprehensive about the spiders and sleeping on the ground. They are roughly the size of my hand, not including the legs, a wild yellow and black. Luckily, harmless. Amber is weepy at the table at the prospect. Ugh...oh boy. In my house, yes...I would likely be crying like a baby...in the wild, it IS expected I would think?

Sleep is hard to get to...big meal late....LOUD obnoxious men, dogs barking.  I REALLY don't like it here...doesn't feel right.  I am told that the trees rustled all night...not the wind.  Monkeys.

We are dragged up at 6am to head out into the park via jeeps to see if tigers can be spotted. The park is worth the trip here.  It is gorgeous. It is, of course, a lovely morning and I just love the open air. Open jeeps with tigers...that can't be right.  No tigers are seen. I didn't really expect to, they are nocturnal after all.  I sit wishing we could have been out at 4am instead.(I have recently spoken to a woman that was there about a year ago and saw 5 tigers...I was sick with jealousy..) There are plenty of monkeys, deer and boars with a few elephants for good measure.  The driver is seemingly rushed as well.  Must just be India...everyone in a moving vehicle just can't resist I guess. He stops the jeep at one point below a huge spider in a web above the road and nearly half of the jeep's occupants nearly jumped out of the rig or at least 'freaked out' in the process.  I don't think she is big and mad enough to come down and get us all...and it makes me laugh. I am only really fascinated and blissful that I am actually in India. India...after all.  Spiders or no spiders.

The remainder of the day is spent roaming the small village nearby for a bit, then sitting in the bar with others chatting. It is nice to chat and get to know those we are with. Matt spends a great deal of time filming the monkeys that roam the grounds and live in the trees.  Man, they are big... and plentiful. They are Hanuman Monkeys named in honor of the Hindu god-man. They are a gorgeous cream/yellow with black faces framed in hair. 

We hear nothing about Nik or Daphne. Tamar and I plan a bit of a birthday celebration for 2 ladies that have birthdays. Matt had brought some pop-up cards from the UK that were perfect and Tamar recruited kitchen staff to track down birthday cake. I spent the day getting signatures from all of the fellow travelers at opportune times and the cakes arrived right on time after supper.  So, it was curries and cake and a knife that sang happy birthday. A nice celebration. The place may not been my favorite, but just being here and having the experience makes me grateful. Even if I must remind myself at times.

It would have been nice to call it a night and get restful sleep.  Not to be. The zipper on the tent would not close...Matt in a panic about the giant spider invasion.  I was more concerned about the huge monkeys hanging in the trees above our heads. It's out of the tent and putting up a new tent in the dark. We finally collapse into the tent and are barraged late in the night by obnoxious men laughing, talking far too loudly and carrying on all night long. I am never so glad to leave a place by morning and being one of the moments I MUST remind myself to be grateful.