Beyond the Delhi ballyhoo

Lush countryside scenes are as much a part of India as the teeming cities. Picture / Dennis Richardson

The live-wire at the dinner party was regaling guests with tales of his trip to India: touts at the Taj, diarrhoea in Delhi, crowds in Calcutta, beggars in Bombay and many other Indian travel cliches.

Poor India, I thought. With travellers rushing from city to city and perpetuating such stereotypes, it will never overcome its image problem.

My recollections of India are very different, but they don't make such entertaining conversation. Try getting a laugh out of the morning sun tinting a snowy Himalayan peak with rose and gold, or the eerie loneliness of medieval castle perched on a rugged desert range, or a leopard silhouetted on a craggy hilltop while an eagle wheels in the sky beyond.

Such reminiscences may not be dinner-party hits, but such serene and beautiful countryside scenes are as much a part of India as the teeming cities.

About two-thirds of the people live in small towns, villages and rural areas and that's a good measuring-stick for visitors - spend a third of your time seeing the main sights and experiencing the confusion of the cities, then get out of town.

Our most surprising discovery was the country's national parks and reserves, some of which were established to protect particular species - lions in Sasan Gir, rhinos in Kaziranga, elephants in Periyar.

The most extensive protection comes under the administration of Project Tiger and whether we were in the arid ranges of Rajasthan, the undulating hills of central India, or the green mountains in the south, there's a similar pattern.

Every morning and evening we would wrap up warm and join expert naturalist guides as they manoeuvred the 4WD quietly along rugged jungle tracks, watching and listening intently for signs of our main target - the elusive tiger.

Safaris were full of anticipation, and whenever fresh pug-marks were spotted or the alarm calls of junglefowl or langur monkeys sounded, we would race towards the sound then stop and sit silently, tuning eyes and ears to the jungle rhythms.

Chital deer are a taste temptation for tigers, so life is perilous for these pretty Bambi lookalikes.

Their behaviour indicates the presence of predators, and at waterholes we would watch them sniff the air nervously, stamp a dainty foot, and hold their fluffy white tails upright before breaking into startled flight - and every time, I wished them well.

Much as I longed to see a tiger, I didn't want to see one of these beautiful creatures struck down by a mighty paw.

I needn't have worried. After several visits to India and dozens of safaris, I'm still waiting for a tiger. The hilly, tree-clad terrain and meadows of tall grass can hide even large animals at close range, as we saw during one safari, when a grand matriarch elephant confronted our vehicle aggressively to warn us not to mess with the young elephants behind her.

Her power made our vehicle seem flimsy. And when a big male emerged from the forest and watched us suspiciously, we all gave a sigh of relief when he lumbered away.

Many of India's national parks were once game hunting grounds established by local rulers, with the hunting tradition continuing under the British.

One of my favourite parks is Sariska in Rajasthan, which was once the hunting preserve of the Maharaja of Alwar. His palatial lodge is now a hotel where the rooms are full of trophies and photos of the hunt.

Among them are tigers. They make a poignant sight, but the sad part is that these stuffed, motheaten animals are now the only tigers left in Sariska, since the population was wiped out for use in Chinese medicine.

Also in Rajasthan is the peaceful Keoladeo Ghana National Park bird sanctuary, once a duck-shooting reserve for a maharaja.

This World Heritage and Ramsar wetland site is a one-hour drive from Agra, home of the Taj Mahal. It can be done as a day trip, but it's another place where a visit is enhanced by staying with the local aristocracy in their beautifully maintained palace.

The park is best visited in the evening or early morning during the nesting season for migratory birds, October to January. If it has been a good monsoon, a boat poled by park staff through the the wetlands is the best way to see get around.

Even people who are not serious birdwatchers will find it a privilege to drift in silence past spindly trees where hundreds of huge painted storks perch precariously, outstretched wings slowly flapping as they shelter, feed and cool clamouring youngsters.

It is also a privilege to meet the people who live in and around the parks. Most parks have been established in traditional hunting, gathering and grazing areas, and some villagers have used their knowledge of the flora and fauna to become guides and guards.

Their dedication is uncompromising, but their limited English is often the source of secret amusement. At Keoladeo Ghana I have to steel myself not to giggle at the greeting I always get from a favourite guide. "Good morning sir! How are you sir?" he grins enthusiastically, unaware of the gender confusion.

Not that he doesn't know the difference - when he took us to meet his wife, he shyly told me that she was "a very good female", as if he were referring to a species of exotic bird.

Everywhere in rural India, women in gorgeous traditional dress add style and grace to backbreaking tasks.

Despite their hard way of life, visitors are usually welcomed with laughter, and I've been dragged to a hut to grind millet on a foot-driven grinding wheel, or to join them at the well as they haul heavy buckets from the depths.

The downside is that I've had to smile, make appreciative noises and ask the diarrhoea demons to be merciful as I've forced down gritty millet chapatis cooked on a camel-dung fire, or accepted a cup of cool, clear well water from a well-meaning host. I did, however, turn down an offer of having a pet monkey search through my hair for lice.

Apart from national parks, India has many other places where you can escape the crowds.

The Himalayas and their foothills offer superb climbing and trekking and, out west, Rajasthan has remote castles that have been turned into hotels offering horse, camel and jeep safaris.

Rajasthan also has great rural fairs, with the annual Pushkar Camel Fair topping the bill. It's an action-packed, colourful few days with more than 10,000 camels in town to be paraded, prodded and eventually sold - just beware of dung-flavoured chapati.

In the south, the mountainous Western Ghats offer walks through misty cloud forests that blend with tea and spice plantations, and on the narrow coastal plain you can cruise on a houseboat through quiet canals.

On the coast are magnificent shore temples, long stretches of golden, palm-fringed beaches and vast deltas peppered with tiny islands.

Too much wilderness and wide open space? Maybe it's time to head back to town.

CHECKLIST

Getting there
Singapore, Thai and Malaysian airlines fly to several Indian cities, including Delhi and Mumbai. Return fares to Delhi with Singapore Airlines start at $1849 plus taxes. Watch for special fares.

Getting around
Travel Smart, New Plymouth has an escorted tour departing on October 21. It combines north and south India, and destinations include the Taj Mahal, the Pushkar Camel Fair, wildlife reserves, villages, tea and spice plantations and coastal areas. Accommodation includes palace hotels and a houseboat on the Kerala backwaters offers 23 days for $8250 each. Phone (06) 758 5712, email linda@tsnewplymouth.co.nz.

When to go
October to February for most of India, except the Himalayas and other mountain areas, which are best from May to September.