Manathavedy

We returned to the hills as we ascended into Wayanad national park, passing groves of Toddy trees, from which the local liquor is made - it's supposed to be drunk in the morning, as by the evening it's vinegar. Vile. We arrived in the exceptionally untouristy Manathavedy to mixed receptions - a Richard (rickshaw-driver) directed us to leave the town, but a troupe of schoolchildren carried us hotelwards.

We stayed in the Century Grand hotel, which may have been grand a century ago, but was still great value despite its lack of character. Fuelled on room service I took courage and opted for a haircut at the local "man hub" - it seems a "layered bouffant" was lost in translation.

The next morning we woke at 6.30 in order to arrive at Tholpetty - the entrance to the wildlife sanctuary - as early as possible. We may well have seen as much wildlife on the bus en route - not that that was a bad thing, although it was fairly terrifying when everyone leaned to one side of the bus to see the animals as we hurtled round corners. We hired a jeep (built for shorter Indian men = reclining positions adopted) and a fantastic guide, and set off into the forest: I entered Attenborough mode, though my impersonation sounded curiously like Nelson Mandela. We saw a fine array of wildlife, the highlight of which was the group of wild elephants - just after the sighting, the guide showed us a video he'd taken when his car was chased by a huge tusker. Nervous laughter abounded.

It was a welcome break to be in an area with absolutely no development - buildings would no doubt ruin the awesomeness of the forest, in which my camera battery inconveniently died.

Post safari we had uber sugary/milky coffee in the roadside cafe, and witnessed the tedium of the workers in such remote places - with hardly anyone stopping by all day, it's easy to see why they hassle tourists so.

We returned to Manathavedy and, feeling suicidal due to the sheer awfulness of the Valentine's day films on show, left to Mysore.

With love