Day 77, Oct. 26


This morning started with Mass. There were six sisters from the school and two lay women. It went well; but the nice conversation after Mass ended with us accepting an invitation for coffee at the convent after we ate the breakfast the rectory housekeeper was making. All was congenial and tasty; but the time for my dream trip was ticking away.
Then we learned the place we were planning to stay the night had become unavailable. We said a little prayer, Father called a young lady we both met at the lunch we had after he picked me up t the Ashram. He had to leave a message for her to call us.
Little did I know my host, who loves his native Mysore, just had to take me to at least two of the town’s attractions. We went to the bird sanctuary and Brindavan Gardens which rival the best in Europe. Both were very quieting to the soul and a good (if time consuming) way to prepare to go into the forest. Somewhere in the middle of these side trips the lady called and was happy to be our hostess at her “home stay” (the Indian version of B&B). We were set and on our way.
We crossed though seal country towns making our way though several animal herds until no getting close to 4 o’clock we reached the boundary of the National Park. It felt like it. The thick teak forest (it was too dry to be a jungle but the ambiance was just the same to me.) We had to sign in twice at guard posts and give our destination. I uses they lose people there. That idea merely added to my excitement.
The big question was, ‘would we find any wild animals?’ That question was answered two minutes past the second gate. A single male elephant appeared at the side of the road. I excitedly got my camera out and took some pictures. It was done. The trip was a success! That is until a few minutes later e come across a small family of elephants. I got out and was getting my camera ready when the male (a giant of a creature) started roaring at me and got up on his hind legs and made a move tht my companion considered to be the start of a charge at his car. He yelled for me to get in as he got the engine running. I hesitated a long nanosecond regretting the loss of this outstanding picture. I fumbled with the camera on the hood of the car and jumped in. I cared for his car and our lives more than that shot. I’ll think about that for a long time to come. Already it is a good memory.
Soon afterward a more tame family came into close view and I took my photos as a consolation prize. Then we went of to the house. It was in the park. (Like England, National Parks here include in their boundaries some private land including entire towns. This home had a 50 acre coffee plantation. It was a splendid home and immaculately clean. Guest rooms were above the rear stairway. We were close but pleasantly isolated. Actually, we were treated a personal guests and not as customers. That meant lots o conversation about the past and common friends. Fr. Anthappa was her principal in school. They reminisced though the delightful dinner which was in the local cuisine, and through the night. They only paused to make arrangements for a safari early the next morning.