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 It was six in the morning and the call went through like lightning. The voice at the other end was sleepy but the answer came loud and clear. "Rains only in July," shouted the unseen man in English drenched in Malayalam. The die was cast and we were on the Alleppey Express that left Chennai Central that very night. My wife woke me the next morning as we were passing a station called Pudukad and said, "It's pouring". I said cheerfully, "Don't worry. It only rains in the plains". We took a cab from the Ernakulam South station at 10 a.m., by which time the downpour had eased, to the hills of Munnar declared by one of the web sites as the
"flavour of the season".
Though the
veshti-clad driver had been told to take us via
Moovattupuzha, he opted for the crowded NH 47. He assured us in sign language that the traffic would ease after
Alwaye. So we reconciled ourselves to watching black fumes and inhaling SOX and NOX for an hour till we branched off to
Perumbavoor. The scenery was typically Kerala: green, wet and dank. We were still on the plains 30 km on and the hills were nowhere to be seen. The next town was Karuppampady with its inevitable Pepsi stall and kiosk hotels. I noticed the board
"Munnar A.M. Road". A few more coconut trees and we were in a town called Kothamangalam that sounded more Tamil than Malayalam. It was here we saw the first teak and betel nut trees. And silver oak too.
At
Neriyamangalam, the road forked to Idukki and Munnar. We took the latter and crossed the Periyar river and the first chain of mountains loomed into view. The best part of the journey began and we could sense a change in the air; cleaner and greener. The first reward is the Chheyappara falls. A thick gush of snow white water that hits the rocks inches short of the road. The driver stops and lets us have a good look. Within the next few seconds we are on to the Walayar falls. And another and another; cataract after gushing cataract.
The town of Adimali is on us. A quaint little hill town with as many nationalised banks as riverbanks.
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The Pothiruppuzha with its gushing brown waters is a picturesque backdrop to
Adimali. It is here that NH 49, the Adimali-Madurai highway, starts. The sky is gray and one can smell the rain in the air and no sooner we mention this than the rain breaks out.
 It rages like an escaped lunatic. "It is the monsoon," pronounces my wife and I reply with thunderous silence. The driver is quite self-possessed and drives with sangfroid. We cannot see anything but apparently he can. He misses oncoming vehicles by micro
millimetres, causing heart attacks. I resist backseat driving and pray instead. The vegetation is still jungle and the tea gardens are yet to begin. The rain eases and the first signboards of hotels and resorts in Munnar hit the vision. Tea County reads the board, a luxury resort run by the
KTDC. I ignore it, as I am quite secure that I have a room at the Government guesthouse.
The Tata tea estates start and we enter Munnar. We reach the Government guesthouse after negotiating a steep gradient that almost breaks the Ambassador's gears. The rainfall is so thick and loud it takes a while for the caretaker to emerge. He is old and courteous and the owner of the voice that predicted rains only in July. When I waved my allotment letter he said, "Rs 1165 per day". The guesthouse was clean and had a dining hall with a Bison head. The furniture antique and the china of Raj vintage. All this but unfortunately no room heaters! In Munnar when it rains it gets cold and for someone from Chennai where the thermometer is going northwards heaters become the most important thing in the world. The good caretaker suggested we go to KTDC that had heaters.
When the KTDC Front Office manager convinces me their
heaters work, I sign up. He informs me that due to the monsoon the rates are cut by 50 per cent, making it virtually the same as the guesthouse! Incidentally the KTDC hotel is called Tea County! We settle and watch through the glass the rains lash and the winds howl. The fury of the elements is showcased. Soon we find rainwater seeping in through the door and are forced to change to another room. The hotel staff places thick towels at the door. Their warmth makes up for the cold.
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