Autumn is the best time to visit Chitwan. At this time the scorching heat subsides, a light breeze cools the heated body. There are no longer leeches, snakes, spiders and other unpleasant creatures. But large mammals come out of their habitats to feast on juicy fruits and enjoy the mild, gentle sun.
Not long ago, the wet forests of Nepal were called "death territory." And not at all because leopards and crocodiles lived here – people had learned to somehow coexist with these predators. Death was brought by the malaria mosquito of the genus anopheles – a tiny killer lying in wait for humans everywhere. The only people who could live in the Terai belonged to the Tharu tribe. Even if blood-sucking mosquitoes covered a member of this people from head to toe, he would not contract the deadly disease. To this day, scientists cannot explain this phenomenon. And the Tharu themselves believe that a strong coconut moonshine-arak, which is still consumed in large quantities, helped defeat malaria.
In the 1960s, the Nepalese authorities declared war on the malaria mosquito. But they used not arak, but another weapon – the poison DDT sprayed from aviation. Forests were cut down on the plain, and soil erosion took place; people gradually settled the fertile land. In 1973, in order to preserve the unique nature of the Terai and increase the population of rare animals, the Royal Chitwan National Park was founded. Today you can see the black antelope and the blue bull, the wild buffalo and the sloth bear, the Bengal tiger and the royal leopard. And there is no telling what you might encounter in the best Asian reserve, which is home to 50 species of mammals and 400 species of birds! If you believe the local rangers, there are more than 500 rhinos alone, and the number of tigers and leopards reaches 200. Hunting them, of course, is prohibited.
THE SECOND SMARTEST AMONG BEASTS
Elephant safari is the main highlight of Chitwan. The advantage of the elephant is that it can approach another animal very closely. The elephant walks slowly and very quietly, carefully going around bushes and clearing away tree blockages. Roe deer, bears, and wild boars do not shy away from it – they know that it will not do them any harm. There is no need to fear tigers, leopards, or crocodiles, because they never attack creatures larger and stronger than themselves. So the only way to experience what the real jungle is like is to go there on a huge creature with thick skin and a long trunk.
For the trip into the forest thickets, I am offered a choice between a "boy" or a "girl." The male is taller, but he is quite restless and sometimes shows aggression. The female (her name is Santikali) has a more docile temperament, so I choose her. The elephant lifts her mahout with her trunk and seats him on her neck. I climb up using steps nailed to a thick tree. From a wooden platform at the level of the elephant's back, I climb into the seat, take my place, and dangle my legs down. Wow! I did not even expect that from a height of three meters the surroundings would be so visible. True, one still has to get used to the mode of travel. The animal sways steadily from side to side – sitting on top, you constantly jerk forward and lean back.
IN SEARCH OF THE HORNED ONE
We descend to the river shrouded in morning mist. The jagged outlines of trees emerge from the milky veil, as if from an unreal world.
To control the elephant, the driver uses his bare feet. A chain is wrapped around the elephant's neck, and under the ears there are knots of a tape tied to the links. With his toes, the mahout tightens or loosens the ties, tugs at them alternately, or beats the elephant's neck with his heels. Depending on the particular command, the elephant turns right or left, moves faster or slower. She reacts to every sign from her master and behaves very obediently. But suddenly something happens. The elephant stops obeying, digs in like a donkey, and refuses to go further. She growls and trembles, waves her trunk and shakes her head, and my seat slides to the side and almost falls to the ground. Turning to me, the driver bares his teeth and spreads his fingers – showing that a tiger or leopard is somewhere nearby.
We leave the beaten path and begin to go around the dangerous place. The mahout pushes branches away from me with a stick, but he does not always manage to do it in time. From time to time, taut twigs whip across my face. Caught up in the hunting excitement, I pay no attention to it. Do some bruises and scratches matter when before me I see a herd of graceful four-horned antelopes? These rare animals have two pairs of horns: curved rear horns under the ears, and straight front horns on the forehead. The young ones frolic in the clearing, the females stand on their hind legs and pluck leaves from trees, the head of the family pricks up its ears warily. The elephant means nothing to him at all, and the male simply does not notice the people sitting on it.
But the mahout is looking for a larger animal. He watches for signs known only to him: he sniffs the air, listens, studies tracks, and looks to see if the grass is stirring. Sometimes he bends down and stares at a pile of dung for a long time, determining the degree of freshness. Based on the combination of signs, the mahout directs the elephant in the right direction. We approach a small marsh filled with slushy brown mud. Blissfully sticking its snout out of the mud, a huge black rhinoceros is taking a cool bath. I can make out every fold on its tanned hide and touch the pointed horn. But the mahout wants to rouse the rhino and drives the elephant into the swamp.
The displeased rhino begins to snort angrily, and Santikali stamps her foot and waves her trunk. Lumps of mud fly around, the horned one crawls out of its cozy bed, snorts contemptuously, and disappears into the tall thickets of yellow grass. Its splayed shaggy ears twitch with displeasure, and the caked clay dries on its lead-colored armor. By the way, the Indian rhinoceros, common in Nepal, weighs about four tons, reaches four meters in length and two meters in height. So it is better not to mess with it.
Later we saw a wild gaur bull – massive, glossy black, with snow-white stockings on its legs and half-meter horns. We came across wild cats, boars and jackals; I watched peacocks at play, their regal tail fans outspread, and took close-up photos of a mongoose rubbing its pointed muzzle with its paws.
NOSE TO NOSE WITH A CROCODILE
After lunch I was sent to float down the Rapti River. I took a seat in a long boat hollowed out of a single tree trunk.
As we floated past an islet overgrown with sedge, I saw huge crocodiles. Turning toward the river, they lay with open mouths and half-closed eyes. It seemed the predators were poised to leap and were waiting for our boat to come closer. There was a moment when I was just two meters away from the bloodthirsty beasts. However, my guides showed no particular alarm at being in such close proximity to the fierce reptiles. They knew that crocodiles rarely attack when they are lying motionless on the bank. It turns out the animals open their mouths not to prepare for an attack, but to speed up their body's heat exchange.
There are crocodile farms in various countries around the world, and I had visited some of them before. There are countless tailed, wrinkled creatures there, but there is no danger – nets are stretched everywhere and walkways are laid over the pool. From above you can throw chicken bones to the animals, which are usually sold right there. In short, such a farm is just a tourist attraction. But in Chitwan Park, crocodiles are perceived quite differently. And to be honest, I was very surprised when I saw the houses of the local people – the Tharu – right next to the place where the crocodiles were sunbathing. They differ from the Nepalese in clothing, facial type, and customs. Women show me tattoos on their ankles and hands, men perform a welcoming dance. Half-naked toddlers run after me – they jump around, peer into the camera lens, feel the fabric of my hiking vest. But they do not beg for small change or hold out their hands demanding sweets or chewing gum. And in general, for all the primitiveness of life here, poverty and dirt do not catch the eye in the Tharu village, as is often the case in other places far from civilization.
Having performed the ritual of welcoming a guest, the adults stop paying attention to me. They return to their usual activities – driving cows to pasture, cooking something in large cauldrons, thatching the roofs of their huts. The Tharu build their dwellings from reeds and coat them with red clay. The clay is mixed with cow dung because the Tharu believe the smell of livestock repels insects, snakes, and crocodiles. That is the explanation for why these people are not afraid of crawling creatures. Although I myself, despite the invitation, do not risk staying overnight in a house made of reeds, clay, and dung. I return to my lodge in a creaking cart drawn by two white buffaloes. Ahead the sun is setting, painting everything around pink. Bright glints skip across the water. On the other bank of the river a bamboo flute sounds. Bouncing over potholes, I think about how wonderful it is – even if only for a while – to forget the bustle of the metropolis and immerse oneself in pristine nature.
Accommodation
In Kathmandu: the Yak & Yeti hotel. Located in the city center, next to the royal palace, it is housed in two buildings – a 19th-century palace and a modern complex. Extensive park, tennis court, sports ground, two outdoor pools, fitness center and sauna, barber shop and beauty salon. The hotel has 270 rooms. Conference hall, business center, bars and restaurants with Eastern and European cuisine, an Indian restaurant with a folklore show, casino.
In Chitwan Park: Gaida Wildlife Camp. Located inside the park, in the habitat of black rhinoceroses. Thirty two-room cottages are situated on the bank of the Dandri River. Each room has a shower with hot water heated by the sun. In the evenings, kerosene lamps and candles are placed on the doorstep of every bungalow. Daily elephant rides into the jungle are conducted with experienced guides.
Prices
$1 equals 71-72 Nepalese rupees. Approximate price levels: a basic lunch – $2-3, lunch in a restaurant – $7-15, a hotel room – $20-40, but there are also hotels for $100-150. Comfortable accommodations, restaurant meals, and taxi use will require $20-40 per day. Tips in restaurants are about 10% of the bill. It is not customary to tip taxi drivers. When buying souvenirs in markets and shops, the initial price can sometimes be cut to a quarter.
Advice
In Nepal, local traditions should be observed. One must not step over people lying on the ground, encourage street beggars, or eat unwashed fruit. Most Hindu temples are closed to tourists, but Buddhist monasteries are open to everyone. It is forbidden to take out of Nepal artistic and decorative items of historical value, as well as tiger skins and ivory.
• When going on vacation or a hike, it is necessary to take care of tourist equipment in advance. Specialized online stores offering a variety of sports and tourism goods will help with this. For example, choosing a Coleman gasoline burner here will not be particularly difficult – both the product description and its operating principle are described more than meticulously. Here you will also find many other items necessary for a hike.
Elephants
Gaida Lodge has seven elephants. Before the safari starts, the head elephant keeper and a local naturalist tell me about their charges. I didn't know that after the dolphin, the elephant is considered the second most intelligent animal. It has an amazing memory and can use a stick or a stone. When there is no deep water body capable of accommodating their giant size, elephants build dams, blocking streams with stones and driftwood. If an elephant falls ill or loses its calf, it will weep bitterly, and large tears will flow from its eyes. In Asian elephants, males have tusks, while females do not. The ears of 'Asians' resemble the shape of the map of India and curl backward (in African elephants, forward). Every day an elephant eats up to 300 kg of food and drinks about 180 liters of water. In addition, at the Gaida camp, the animals are also fed elephant sandwiches. On a large grass leaf, they place rice, salt, brown sugar, and tie it all into a bundle. Along with this treat, the elephants get essential vitamins.