Haiderpur Wetland
According to the various online mapping services, it is less than 300km to Haiderpur Barrage from Agra. I’m of the opinion that it feels as if it is more than twice that distance. Getting out of Agra on a busy morning is an absolute nightmare. The traffic is bumper-to-bumper for kilometre after kilometre. Tens of thousands of cars and trucks compete for scant space with a myriad motorcycles and tuk-tuks. Throw in the occasional horse- or ox-drawn cart and disaster is bound to ensue.
When we eventually make it to the main limited highways, they aren’t much better. Again, the traffic is very heavy and, as we are heading in the general direction of Delhi for much of the route, much of it is heavy transport. The only consolation is that lunch is very good and the beer is cold. We actually take little more than the estimated time of five hours to make it to Haiderpur but then we are scheduled to go bird-watching for a couple of hours.
I suspect that, as a first place to see the Ganges from, Haiderpur Barrage isn’t one that instantly springs to mind. Still, on reflection, I don’t think I would have it any other way. The barrage (read dam) was built to help to control the annual flooding of the Ganges and, along with an extensive series of levees and irrigation channels, it manages to take the sting out of the flow of flood-water when required.
Currently, the road over the barrage carries the highway, but just downstream one can clearly see the foundations for a new bridge. Driving on the bridge – or indeed either of the two side-channel bridges that are associated with it – allows for a good view of the lifting mechanisms that manage the height of the water behind the barrage.
It is this barrage that has created the truly massive expanse of wetland habitat that has made Haiderpur a world-famous location for the keenest of bird-watchers. No idea what I’m doing here then! Actually, if it wasn’t so far from anywhere, it would be a very popular bird-watching centre. Sadly, it is little known and little visited. We saw at least another dozen species toad to our list, including a pair of Sarus cranes. Unfortunately, it was getting close to dark by the time we found them and my couple of distant photos are little better than blotches.
Both JP and Sunil were obviously keen to get us to our hotel for the night before it was fully dark. Something I can only agree with, as driving in the daylight was bad enough. Our hotel, in the next town to the east after the barrage, looks imposing and modern.
Sadly, it turns out to be disorganised, dirty, badly run and a little shabby. Something like Fawlty Towers, but by the Ganges. It’s the first time I’ve ever been in a place that looks so good but is actually terrible. My bedding was musty and grimy, the floors were dirty and there was rubbish in the storage closet. Chris had a fridge in his room, but it was half-full with food of indeterminate age that had begun to show signs of trying to escape.
To add insult to injury, we had been switched from a different hotel because they had a big wedding on that day. Well, it turns out that this hotel did too. I was on the back side of the building and the noise of the celebration didn’t bother me too much, but the constant banging of doors throughout the night was unacceptable. Chris and JP, on the front side, had it much worse.
We went to dinner with uncertain expectations, but with JP and Sunil both helping with choices, we put together something that we all felt safe with. While we waited for the food, Sunil ran into town in the car and got us some beer – yes, another dry hotel. We drank out of the cans, uncivilised to be sure, but safer. I have to admit, I’ve never stayed anywhere where I was afraid to use the drinking glasses in the room, but this was one of those places that didn’t instil any confidence whatsoever. The only thing to do was get an early night and then have brunch on the road.
Luckily for anyone reading this, you don’t have to worry about winding up in such a forsaken hovel. I’m pretty sure they’re on borrowed time and it’ll probably close down or fall down soon. Either way, I’ve no desire to ever return and probably no real reason to, unless to see better sightings of the Sarus crane.
Northwards Towards Corbett
The drive northwards from Haiderpur into the foothills and the edge of Corbett National Park is nominally a fairly short one. To make good use of the time available, we opt to spend the morning out in the forests to the east of the Ganges, just downstream from the Haiderpur barrage. It’s a very fruitful morning, with many different birds to be seen and some spectacular vistas through the dense morning mists. It’s moody and atmospheric, reminding me in some ways of our own local Ballaugh Curraghs, except on a much grander scale.
Many of the trees are ones that have been planted for timber, including some truly impressive white eucalyptus that are easily more than 30m tall.
The decision having already been made that we’re not risking breakfast at the “hotel”, we check out as quickly as “Basil” and his cohort can manage and head north. Once again, the traffic is truly terrible, only now we are on narrower country roads and the potential for an accident is multiplied by an order of magnitude.
Every time I get to that point where I think that an impact is inevitable, Sunil manages to somehow make it not happen. From the seats in the back, it is pretty hard to tell just how close we get, but it might regularly be measured in millimetres rather than centimetres. It’s also a good thing that different vehicles have side mirrors at different heights or there wouldn’t be any.
At times progress is hampered by trucks loaded with fodder or recently-harvested sugar cane that overhangs the vehicle’s bed by more than a meter to each side, causing them to drive right in the middle of a two-lane road to avoid the trees on either side. Still, Sunil manages to pass these whenever the opportunity arises and slow but steady progress is made.
It's after two before we can finally stop to eat, JP choosing a nice-looking restaurant and helping to pick some items from the comprehensive menu. The food is excellent and there’s even an ice-cold beer to wash it down. For some reason, it’s Corona, though I’ve no idea what a Mexican beer is doing in Northern India.
The change in the landscape seems to creep up on you and comes with a suddenness that’s quite jarring. One moment you are driving across the vast expanse of the Gangetic plains and the next there are hills. Gentle at first, to be sure, but inexorable. Before you know it, you are driving along the edge of the National Park and the signs on the road warn of tigers crossing instead of cows or deer.
Our small overnight stop is just off the main road, dropping down onto the banks of the river. We have comfortable rooms with good beds and functional plumbing. The air is noticeably cooler, despite the only slight increase in latitude and altitude. We have the last of our beer with dinner, now looking forward to six nights with just water or the occasional soft drink.
Early to bed means early to rise for the drive to our gate and then the almost two-hour drive deep into the Dhikala sector of the park and the guest hose that is to be our home for three nights.