Marvellous Mrugaya

Before heading on our sabbatical I reached out to a colleague at BirdLife International whom had worked extensively in South-East Asia and India. I was hoping my colleague could assist us to gain an inside experience and the opportunity to support local nature guides, rather than large corporate tour companies. Fortunately this plan paid off in India, where we were provided with a contact who could take us on a birding trip in the Western Ghats region. Thus, shortly after finishing our last trip into the mountains, we found ourselves gathering our gear for another stint of exploration.

Parag Ragnekar had very obligingly shuffled his schedule around to accommodate us, and so we met up on the coast in Morjim and jumped in his car – bound for the highland forests once again. Parag was to be our guide for the next few days, and as it turned out, is arguably one of the most astute naturalists I have ever met. A naturalist in this sense is an individual with wide ranging knowledge of nature, not satisfied with specialising in one particular group, but with a breadth and depth of knowledge that covered almost anything we laid our eyes on. Parag, as a man of many talents, wears many hats. His more formal work is done through an NGO, where his training as a sociologist sees him leading community empowerment projects required as part of mining developments. He sits on the state environmental management committee for Goa and is a main stalwart of the local birding group. He spends his “free time” writing books on butterflies or dragonflies and taking clients out on specialist nature guiding trips for birds, reptiles, amphibians and anything else in which one might be interested. Our car journey, filled with Parag and I swapping conservation stories, found us winding up a steep mountain pass as we headed over the Ghats and onto the high plateau and the small village of Amboli, in the state of Maharashtra. With a brief stop at the top of the pass to sample some local roadside snacks. This was to be the first of many delicious local meals, as Parag exposed us to Indian cuisine throughout the next few days. Our base was the comfortable “Mrugaya Retreat”. Formerly a family holiday house, where Parag spent summers accompanying his father on short hunting stints into the surrounding woodlands, now converted into a stunning nature retreat, thanks to Parag’s deep conservation convictions and his vision for the property to pay for itself.

After some early evening birding in the nearby area we prepared for a night of “herping”. To the uninformed, this is the fine art of tracking down different species of reptiles and amphibians – coming from the term “herpetology” – the study of reptiles and amphibians. I’m fortunate that the birds I seek are never venomous and often obligingly call out or fly around our heads providing easy views. Not so with the frogs and snakes. They must be searched for, and as I had also seen on a scientific expedition to Madagascar in early 2019, this active searching is usually done at night, upending logs and scanning stream banks for signs of life. On our first evening Parag’s skills were clearly evident, as he managed to find us three specimens of the beautiful, endemic Malabar pit viper – including both colour morphs. The snakes were complimented by “dancing frogs”, the tiny amboli leaping frog and the Bombay bush frog – whose night time clicks ring out through the valleys as if an army of ghostly secretaries was busy typing up the latest set of minutes on their typewriters. Parag’s infectious enthusiasm for these enigmatic creatures rubbed off fast and we found ourselves entranced by the “herps” of the night.

Parag and I started birding early the next morning as Esti opted for a slight sleep in – having got a sufficient dose of nature the night before. Our targets were the stunning Scimitar-billed Babblers which live in the vicinity of the retreat and who certainly did not disappoint. We also picked up the beautiful Orange-headed Thrush and endemic Malabar Lark, among others. After a delicious breakfast, during which Parag introduced us to yet more local cuisine, we set off for a short hike in the nearby hillsides. Here our targets included the stunning Malabar Whistling Thrush and the highly secretive and skulking Indian Blue Robin – both of which we managed to tick off, adding further to my list of Western Ghats endemics. We strolled up a pathway to a small temple located at a natural grotto, or water spring. Parag and I discussed the role of nature in the development of spirituality and religion in India – thus managing to combine a few of my favourite topics. He commented on how this natural grotto, which may likely have been the initial focus of the spiritual gatherings itself, had now been built over by the small concrete temple. An ode to the progress of man, forgetting our origins as we tread the path of development. Hopefully the water spirits reside there still, providing the blessings which we saw the local Hindu people coming to receive.

After yet more culinary adventures, focused on biryani, we departed for our second night trip, opting for a night drive this time. The mode of transport did not hamper our sightings though, as we found a family of three porcupines (a different species to its African cousin), an Indian jungle cat and a common palm civet, to ensure our list included some good local mammals too. This was rounded off with other Malabar endemics in the form of the Bamboo pit viper and Malabar gliding frog. To illustrate how our enthusiasm had grown in these 24 hours, both Esti and I found ourselves bounding out of the vehicle to get a closer look at the Bamboo pit viper as it crossed the road. Not to worry moms – these snakes tend to move very slowly and we maintained a respectful distance whilst admiring its beauty. Climbing into bed at midnight, after about 18 hours of wildlife exploration that day, we drifted into a very satisfied slumber.

The following morning Parag and I were obviously up early once again, not missing an opportunity for further birding accompanied by stimulating conversations with a kindred soul. A few last stops on the way back to the coast of Goa managed to bag us the tiny Nilgiri flowerpecker, a beautiful sunbird, and views of a Shikra as it darted after its sunbird quarry through the high canopy forest. Of course the final leg would not be complete with a stop for the delicious local version of an ice-cream sundae. All too soon we found ourselves back in the capital of Goa, wishing a sad farewell to Parag after an incredible few days discovering the full range of the culture and biodiversity of the Western Ghats.