As the bus lurched around yet another curve, a refreshing gust of air sailed through the window, providing a deceptive sensation that I was my own separate entity, and not in fact merged with the other three individuals sharing my seat. Despite the cramped conditions, the air was already noticeably cooler, and the landscape was stunning. It was easy to imagine British expats of colonial days escaping the Indian heat, particularly in the summer. Although I suspect they traveled in more style than the government bus that cost us all of 95 Rupees ($1.50CAD) for the four hour ride.

Munnar reminds me a lot of the Cameron Highlands, a collection of small towns and tea plantations set in the hills of Peninsular Malaysia. These hill stations seem to have continued to flourish due to the winning combination of tourism and tea production, since tea was introduced by the British. Interestingly, the first drink we were offered was coffee laden with ginger (delicious). It turns out most of the tea grown in the area is actually green tea, which Indians have not yet caught on to, preferring their spicy, sugary, milky, masala chai. Surely chai must be the strongest British legacy here.

After we spent a good chunk of time sorting out accommodation (surprisingly, beautiful rooms overlooking the plantations in the height of tourist season are not backpacker budget friendly), we called our new friend Babu to arrange a tea trekking tour for the following day. A trio of Americans were already signed up for a trek, and for a reason unexplained to us, were starting at 7am. Despite the fact that we were coming off a few nights of New Year’s Celebrations in Kochi, during which we couldn’t possibly have gone to bed before the festivities ended after 12am, we grimaced and signed up. Unfortunately, our guesthouse owners also thought the start time was rather early, and didn’t want to serve us our complimentary breakfast at such an hour. Getting up in the cold at 6:30am then wasn’t improved by the lack of food. Inexplicably, the cook was up and managed to take 15 minutes to prepare us a cup of chai, but couldn’t toast two slices of bread.

We started our walk right outside town and immediately knew why we started so early. The light was absolutely fantastic. Mist was rising in the valleys as the dew drops on the tea leaves began to dry in the early morning sun. Every ridge we climbed we were awarded with yet another stunning view. The intense green of the plantations reminded me of rice paddies in Bali, with each field somehow managing to be greener than the last. Colours that couldn’t be captured in photos, although Marieke tried admirably.

Unbelievable light

By midday it had heated up, but winds coming up from the valley kept us relatively cool. But perhaps the most striking aspect of the day was the change of sounds. Gone was the honking, the shouting, the chanting, that we have come to expect in India, and its place were birds chirping, leaves rustling, and the occassional animal shuffling along. This was perhaps the real escape.

By the end it turned out we had walked up and down tea hills for 15 km or 5 hours, which explained why every step now felt like a burden. A month of a relatively sedentary lifestyle, due to the heat, the cheap if overpriced (for tourists) tuk tuks, and honestly, not that much that required getting up all that early for, hit us hard. But hey, at least we got to use the shoes we’ve been carrying around for a month! It was time for a well deserved hot shower, and a nap.