As I'm in Mumbai for the best part of a week - far longer than the usual 2 days stints we have en route to/from Mangalore we decided to take the opportunity to make an excursion out of the hustle and bustle of the city and out to the peace and tranquility of the countryside. In particular, we were heading up to Matheran, a hill station a couple of hours drive from Mumbai that, for reasons jovial and practical, has gained the nickname "Monkeyland".
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Matheran's location due east of Mumbai is shown above, but a better appreciation of its geography is possible with the zoomed in image below. Matheran sits alone at an elevation of about 800 metres, with the nearest road ceasing above half way up the hill (visible on the map to the north-east). Thus, access to Matheran is possible only by foot, horseback, or by a "toy train" railway built under the British in 1907.
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Keen for a good stroll, my uncle, aunt, cousin and I all began the 2-3km trek up the hills towards the town centre at the summit, and although the ground was awkward rubble the going was good thanks to the deep shade offered by the sprawling, thick canopy overhead.
On occasions when the path up winds towards the edge of the hill, you get to see the spectacular views in all directions that, along with its cool, shaded climate, caused the British to develop Matheran into a summertime resort away from the stifling heat of Bombay. As it transpired, the hill was a bit much for a 6-year-old (my cousin), so half way up we got hold of a couple of horses (named Bunty and Bombay) and the ladies saddled up for the rest of the journey (see right).Up at the top we checked into a hotel and relaxed till lunch, then commandeered a couple more stallions and went for a tour to a few of the "points" (viewing points) around the edge of the hill. The afternoon's horses - Asterix and Gentleman - were thoroughbreds - Gentleman in particular was a mighty animal. Apparently most of the horses up in Matheran are all retired racehorses, but it is safe to say they are treated very well - it shows in the physical stature of the beasts.
Our tour was a couple of hours and took in some even more spectacular views from Lord Point, Echo Point, and a couple of other points whose names I forget (although they weren't Suicide Point, whose name is certainly one to remember). My uncle and I happily digested our lunch while we walked alongside the horses, while the riders enjoyed the power and agility of their steed over the rough terrain. All in all, an excellent afternoon.
The evening brought with it a multitude of monkeys, all keen on getting a piece of any and all food they could muster. We'd already had a couple of our roti breads stolen right in front of our eyes while we were eating lunch, so were were somewhat more cautious while we had our tea. Others were less so, and we all had a good laugh as various gangs of primates ran riot all over the place. The bins were floored and foraged, leftover tea was downed, sugar pots were spread across the table and unceremoniously licked. The kids gathered around all thought it was hilarious; the hotel management less so.
Before dinner we all got ourselves a massage, though as was the theme of the weekend, monkeys would have to influence things in some way. As it turned out, I was downstairs in the forecourt accepting the challenge of the barman to a best of 7-frame game of pool, when my uncle suddenly shouted "oh shit!" and ran upstairs. A particularly industrious monkey had managed to prize open the balcony door, and was happily scouring our dining room for food while my aunt was obliviously having her massage in the bedroom. Soon enough, however, the masseuse noticed a furry friend, and things got pretty excitable till he was cleared off. He'd be back...
Incidentally, I did my bit for British sporting pride by winning 4-0 in the pool stakes (including a spectacular 8-ball running tight to the cushion at an angle, the length of the table...)
Anyway, the final episode of our time with the monkeys came as we were about to leave in the morning - we awoke to find an army of the creatures on our balcony, feasting on the contents of some poor sod's tupperware container full of various tasty morsels. When I say an army, I mean there were at least 14 of them there - including a few little baby monkeys (see right) who looked pretty much identical to your archetypal alien (also see right). The lot of them sat there watching us through the glass French doors, and naturally enough we sat there watching back (or, as the case was for me, clicking about 200 photos). Finally, we decided we didn't want any more of the sweets (jelabis) we'd been eating, so out onto the balcony they went. Unfortunately, the first mover was one of the big daddy monkeys, so the rest had to sit and watch as he first tried to eat it in one, failed, pulled it out his mouth, cracked it in two, tried to put both pieces in his mouth at once, failed, pulled one out again, ate the first one, broke the other half into two, ate both halves, then proceeded to lick the cardboard box of every last follicle of sugary syrup possibly left. All the while, little baby monkey stood with the pose of circus clown.
I've always said, largely in jest, that I want a pet monkey. Post-Matheran, it is no longer in jest... they are seriously cool creatures.
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