Getting High

THE MOUNTAINS HAVE A HEALING EFFECT WHEN YOU SURRENDER TO THEIR EMBRACE, DISCOVERS AMIT DIXIT ON A WALKING HOLIDAY IN THE PALANI HILLS.

- AMIT DIXIT

That first evening, we sat on some rocks by a river which had been reduced to a trickle and watched the fireflies light up the gloaming. Shortly, the stars descended. It was difficult to say where the stars ended and the fireflies began.

A plan was hatched: this is what we were going to do for the rest of our lives. Ah, well, at least till the end of the trip. But we never saw the fireflies again. In the forested hills of Palani, close to the land’s heartbeat, there was much to do, and we never made it back to the river at dusk. No regrets, though.

In the morning we had been an universe away, flying into Madurai, where tarred roads turn to treacle and women wear flowers in their hair. Early in the flight, as the plane banked to the right, leaving the Bay of Bengal behind, the shoreline swept into view. Somewhere in the world, life is always a beach. But I prefer the cold embrace of the mountains. It was Valentine’s Day, a wounding detail.

The land was pierced with colourful buses. At some point, we left the blistering plains behind and submitted to the moist embrace of the Western Ghats. After a final, bumpy section, arrival at the Elephant Valley Eco Farm Hotel was sudden. We reached the designated village, turned into a small gate between the temple and the village shop and immediately ground to a halt. Beyond the reception the vista opened up magically, revealing a sprawling coffee estate, discreetly scattered accommodation, the land rolling gently towards a river and majestic hills looming on the horizon. They fired the boiler for us urban wusses. I showered the day’s grime away in a bathroom with a red oxide floor. It triggered a warm memory: the house I grew up in had just such a floor.