Mangalajodi

Early starts are now routine. We wake before our 6 am alarm to discover that there is still no hot water. As R puts it we are only going on a smelly train so a qick wipe with a damp cloth suffices. The information boards at Bhubaneswar station tell us what the fine is for spitting or littering but are utterly devoid of train information. There is a train that might be ours in P5 so R is parked there with the luggage and D goes in search of concrete evidence. Eventually there is an announcement confirming the train as the correct one. There is coach D1 right in front. We are going 2S (2nd class Sitting) today.

 It is already quite full and the three seater bench near the middle doors containing our two reserved seats is fully occupied. When D announces that we have reserved seats the man in the middle protests that this is a General coach meaning unreserved.  People around us agree with D's counter assertion and he gets up to sit in an empty space opposite.  The lady in the window seat appears to be digging in. Somebody with English says that she is only going to Berhampur, about 2 hours beyond our destination. D protests that we have reserved seats and have paid for tickets. The weight of public opinion swings against her and she departs rather huffily. The racks above our seats are full but there is space down the coach in clear view of our seats so D hoists our bags up there. 

We take our seats and ambush a passing chai wallah. You don't get overcharged in 2S - there would be some kind of riot. The train gets underway a couple of minutes late and D quickly bags one of the middle doors to ride at. R gets a temporary promotion and is allowed to present the ticket to the TTE, good practice for when she starts doing solo trips. For an all stops non a/c train this one rattles along at surprisingly high velocity although we have a very lengthy stop at the first station where people keep getting off and returning with purchases like coconuts and hot food wrapped in newspapers.  The vendor scene is all action on this service. Trays of bread omelets,  a man balancing a huge bowl of unshelled peanuts on his head, another man apparently selling mixed salad and, best of all, the Jhal Muri man with his delicious smelling mixture that will deliver instant death to any pink person who eats it. R has some strange ideas.

D is joined at the door by a young man who wishes to practice his English. He is surprised to learn that the temperature back in Scotland a couple of days ago was -2C and goes on to say that the local forecast says a high of 37C. He asks about what people eat in Scotland.  How do you explain steak pie to a Hindu? He gets off a stop before we do which gives D space to manage the luggage and we can deboard with little difficulty.  There is an auto wallah on the platform who picks us out from the crowd and waves a Mangalajodi brochure. It wasn't that difficult as very few people got off the train here. There is a twenty minute drive to the Eco resort, a compound towards one end of a dusty village street.

English does not appear to be a strong suit here but we get by. Asked if we want breakfast we bite their hands off.  Bags are dropped in our 'cottage' , one half of a round thatched building, and we are shown to a raised platform with table and chairs under a canopy. Soon we are getting tore into delicious bread omelets and cups of slightly unusual masala tea. After eating we enquire about the programme of events. We are told that we have two boat trips booked, one after lunch today and one early tomorrow morning. As there is free time this morning we go for a walk through the village. The only birds that we can see are crows. It is getting very hot and we retreat to our room to lie under the fan and read.

Lunch is called and we enjoy papads with rice, dal, fried aubergine slices and tiny chips. Amongst the features not mentioned on the website are the small dog that is constantly underfoot and which gets stood on several times, and the hot and cold running trains provided 24 hours per day on the main Kolkata - Chennai line that is just across the street. Somewhere at the far end of the village is a temple that plays amplified music and chanting non stop.

Our guide appears. We think that his name is Chandra but his accent is quite thick and we are not certain. We board an auto hidden in the shade and drive through the village, then across the railway and along a track running along a levee. On one side is wetland and on the other slightly less wet land. There are egrets by the score and purple swamp hens by the acre as well as herons and storks. At a small jetty we get down and gingerly embark on an aged looking punt (or is it a skiff). Our guide has to phone the boatman but he appears PDQ on his bicycle and we get under way. There are birds everywhere and it is difficult to keep up at first but gradually things settle down and we can catch our breath. 

For nearly three hours we cruise the creeks and inlets while Chandra picks out birds that we had not seen and would struggle to name. There are plenty of herons fishing and we see one get a large fish. There are waders in various sizes and vividly coloured Brahminy Shelducks side by side with multi coloured glossy ibises and more swamphens. The latter is one of R's favourites and she is delighted to see so many. Further out on the edge of the wetlands where it skirts the huge Chilika Lake, there are fierce fires burning as some of the reeds are burnt off. We can hear the flames crackling from several hundred meteres away and there is a constant rain of black ash but the birds don't seem bothered. Our guide's identifications are generally easy to understand but we are a bit thrown by 'Fish cutter'. Eventually we work out that this is actually 'Whiskered Tern'. On our way back to base our guide spots a Marsh Harrier peering through the reeds at us. We watch back and after a while it takes to the air - amazing at such close quarters. Chandra is quite excited when we spot several Golden Plovers. He says that they are rare hereabouts. The sun is sinking and we have numb bums when we get back to the jetty but it has been thrilling.

Back at the cottage we have time for showers and a cocktail before supper. Hot water was never on the menu here but the water temperature was not too much of a hardship after a hot day. Just as we sat down to dinner there was the traditional Odisha power cut. At least it meant that the temple went quiet until their generator kicked in. We dined in a mixture of candlelight and torch light. No rice with this meal but excellent chapattis.  And we have more to come tomorrow.