Groovy Grassland

Rough It Out In Style At Jamtara Wilderness Camp.

- Neha Dara

Since I was a child, I’ve considered the grasslands a sinister place. It’s probably the result of dozens of trips to Jim Corbett National Park, during which my mother told stories of tigers and other dangers lurking among the tall grasses. Unlike trees, which very obviously have hiding spots, grasslands are beguiling spaces. They can usher an animal in with their soft undulating movements in the breeze, only to spring a nasty surprise.

So, I was a little taken aback when my luxury tent at Jamtara Wilderness Camp, near Pench National Park’s Jamtara gate, turned out to be surrounded by a sea of beige grasses as high as my waist. I swallowed back the sudden uneasiness I felt, and followed my husband down the snaking path that led to our home for two nights. Ignoring the grass brushing against my sides, I focused instead on that tree in the distance from which I could hear a bird whistling, and gurgle of the stream that ran just beside the tent.