Luigi at the Periyar Lodge

'Many Happy Returns.'

A short Indian man going by the name of Luigi greets us at the Periyar River Lodge. A little birdy has called ahead to tell him it's my birthday. 

And what a place to spend it!

We take the opportunity whilst Luigi is unloading the car ('I insist') to explore the grounds and find our bearings. It doesn't take us long. The small plot of land is set just a few metres back from the riverbed and home to a beautiful wooden lodge with an open atrium at the centre, a dining room and small kitchen on one side and two bedrooms on the other. 

'The other bedroom is empty this evening. You are our only guests.'

Beside Luigi stands Eldon, a toothless giant with little comprehendible English but the widest smile which requires no explanation; they’re delighted to have us to stay.

When the pair disappear to go and prepare dinner, we stretch ourselves out on the veranda sipping two fresh coconuts and admiring the view. The silence of our surroundings is blissful following the chaos of Bangalore. 

‘Dinner is served.’

In contrast to Eldon, Luigi’s English is impeccable and he has a way with words which one would only expect from a mother tongue. 

‘Did you see the bed of weeds upon the river? Cast your eye early in the morning and you will find them covered with a purple blanket of flowers, as though the forest has tucked them in for the night.’

As we set off in the long boat the following morning, we discover that Luigi speaks as truthfully as he does beautifully. Both he and Eldon join us as we glide through the water disturbing the peaceful stillness with our wooden oars. At first glance, we appear to be the only movement for miles around but Luigi teaches us to see with our ears as well as our eyes. 

‘Tunk tunk tunk. Do you hear it? Greater racket-tail drongo. There! There it is!’

Sure enough, a small, black bird with twin tailed feathers swoops down from the canopy. She’s beautiful but I lose sight of her as another bird in an erratic flight path steals my attention. 

‘Hornbill. He flies like a rollercoaster. Up, then down, then up, then down.’

The hornbill’s reputation precedes him. A skilled thief, he’s known throughout Kerala for robbing the market men of their daily fruit supplies. The crickets jitter in response. 

Luigi’s ears prick up at the rustle of a nearby bush as flashes of bright blue reveal themselves between the leaves. I know this one; Kingfisher!

Led by the red tip of its beak the Kingfisher darts across the river, narrowly missing a poised Snakebird drying out in the sun.  

Something howls deep in the forest. What was that? A monkey? An elephant?

‘Perhaps a bison.’ 

Luigi’s voice is calm but it does little to comfort me as the horns of a large beast break the surface of the water in front of us. 

A bison?! No, a cow…dozens in fact! 

We watch on in confusion as a whole herd of cattle doggy paddle between the riverbanks. 

‘In this instance, the grass really is greener on the other side.’

Luigi explains that the farmers encourage their cows to cross every morning to enjoy the fresh grass which is yet to be touched by human life. They return by themselves each night. 

This morning has been full of surprises but there’s still one more to come and it descends upon us in a flurry of fluorescent green. What is that?!  

It’s Luigi’s turn to look confused now.

‘That? That is just a pigeon. Many, many pigeons in this area.’

It certainly doesn’t look like any pigeon I’ve ever seen. 

‘There is another like the normal pigeon but ash in colour. He’s very rare.'

I smile to myself, realising that ‘normal’ for him is green and the ‘ash colour’ he describes is grey – Luigi is referring to a wood pigeon.

He’d have a field day in London, just as I am here in India.