<p>Even before the plains have given way to the hills, it’s the car that feels the first signs of the coming surrender. At every hairpin turn, it protests a bit more, feels a little more out of breath. There is respite when the road levels off, but that’s far too short-lived, and the next belabouring turn is upon us too soon.</p>.<p>In this land of the hills, the slopes and the turns of the road show you no mercy. We are headed to Takdah forest in the northern district of Darjeeling in West Bengal. We are in what can be called the lower mountains, the promise and the allure of the mighty Himalayas just within reach. Though the slopes of these hills are cloaked by the green of the tea, vast swathes of montane forests, replete with pine and cedar, still stand proud and tall. The air is crisper and nippier. The sun gets mellower and when we drive through the shadow of the mountain, it lights up the valley below and the plains we have left behind are only a distant haze.</p>.<p>We finally arrive at the tea estate that’ll be our home for the next few days. Unsurprisingly, it’s pretty like a postcard. White-streaked bungalows nestle beside neatly trimmed lawns and primrose beds in full bloom. Tea isn’t just a bush that is cultivated; it’s a way of living, and though times have changed (mostly for the better) there is a faint colonial aura that hangs over everything. We settle in and rest, catching our breath from the journey, sipping the tea and soaking in the silence. The mountains are under the clouds of the late afternoon but there’s birdsong echoing in the valley.</p>.<p>The birds being our primary interest, we head out for a walk in the late afternoon, even as the sky turns gloomy. Mt Kanchenjunga is well and truly hidden. As we walk, the old pine forest looks down at us from above, while we peer into the undergrowth — because that’s where the skulkers are. The effort has rewards — we spot Himalayan bulbubs, black bulbul, rufous sibia, whiskered yuhina — and as the evening falls and we have to return, our birding appetites have been whetted for more.</p>.<p>There’s a drizzle in the late night as the cloud build-up continues. We go to bed hoping for a clear dawn and with prayers for a blessed sighting of the great mountain tomorrow. But that’s not to be. Though we are up with the sun, the clouds refuse to part. The mountain will take its time. Undeterred, we take the day head-on, great as it is for birding. The canopy in a tea garden is always sparse (shade trees are put after much deliberation) but there is always a surprising variety of avifauna to be found. A peacock looks resplendent in the early morning light, perched upon a tree that sticks out from the blue hillside falling away into the valley. The faraway yearning calls of the great barbet rent through the air, and we get to see a few ones up close, their colours always surprising. There’s incessant<br />chirping in the bushes as tits, thrushes, warblers, pipits and flycatchers flit about. A pied flycatcher eyes us closely as we pass. In the distance, one of the great skulkers — the rusty-cheeked scimitar babbler — senses that it’s caught out in the open and darts back into the shadows again. Drongos loop through the air in hunting circles, chasing insects. And on another morning, we chance upon a rare Himalayan Rubythroat, sitting proudly in the open, while a blue-fronted redstart seems to follow us where we go, intrigued by our cameras. Our birding walks yield more finds: green-billed malkoha, verditer flycatcher, greater and lesser-yellownape woodpecker, scarlet minivet, velvet-fronted and Chestnut-bellied Nuthatch, Asian-barred owlet, crimson sunbird, blue-throated barbet, common green magpie, grey-headed canary flycatcher…the list goes on and our excitement knows no bounds.</p>.<p>There’s a bout of rain one afternoon and, as we dine under the stars that night, the heavens appear to be clearing. And when, next morning, Mt Kanchenjunga finally rewards us for our patience, it is a blessed sight — a giant of a mountain, magnificent in its aura, yet soothing in its beauty, the white snow on its slopes awash in the spreading light crimson of dawn, cusps of cloud caressing its peaks — a mountain to behold, if ever there was one. To the connoisseur of tea, the gardens may very well be known for the flavour of the first flush, but as we leave behind those heavenly days to head back home, it is clear to us that, through its mountains and its rich and breathtaking birdlife, there are a lot of other treasures to be truly cherished amongst the tea.</p>.<p><strong><span class="bold">How to go?</span></strong></p>.<p>Takdah forest is in the Darjeeling district in northern West Bengal. Regular flights and trains connect to Bagdogra Airport or Jalpaiguri Railway station, which is about 3 hours away.</p>.<p><strong><span class="bold">When to go?</span></strong></p>.<p>The best time is from October to March. Monsoons are extremely wet and foggy, and generally best avoided.</p>.<p><strong><span class="bold">What to do?</span></strong></p>.<p>The area is dotted with hill stations and tea estates, so take your pick. Apart from fabulous views of the Eastern Himalaya and Mt Kanchenjunga (the world’s third-highest mountain), the tea estates and small homestays are often a fabulous experience. Long walks, treks, and birding are only some of the things you can do in this land of breathtaking beauty.</p>
<p>Even before the plains have given way to the hills, it’s the car that feels the first signs of the coming surrender. At every hairpin turn, it protests a bit more, feels a little more out of breath. There is respite when the road levels off, but that’s far too short-lived, and the next belabouring turn is upon us too soon.</p>.<p>In this land of the hills, the slopes and the turns of the road show you no mercy. We are headed to Takdah forest in the northern district of Darjeeling in West Bengal. We are in what can be called the lower mountains, the promise and the allure of the mighty Himalayas just within reach. Though the slopes of these hills are cloaked by the green of the tea, vast swathes of montane forests, replete with pine and cedar, still stand proud and tall. The air is crisper and nippier. The sun gets mellower and when we drive through the shadow of the mountain, it lights up the valley below and the plains we have left behind are only a distant haze.</p>.<p>We finally arrive at the tea estate that’ll be our home for the next few days. Unsurprisingly, it’s pretty like a postcard. White-streaked bungalows nestle beside neatly trimmed lawns and primrose beds in full bloom. Tea isn’t just a bush that is cultivated; it’s a way of living, and though times have changed (mostly for the better) there is a faint colonial aura that hangs over everything. We settle in and rest, catching our breath from the journey, sipping the tea and soaking in the silence. The mountains are under the clouds of the late afternoon but there’s birdsong echoing in the valley.</p>.<p>The birds being our primary interest, we head out for a walk in the late afternoon, even as the sky turns gloomy. Mt Kanchenjunga is well and truly hidden. As we walk, the old pine forest looks down at us from above, while we peer into the undergrowth — because that’s where the skulkers are. The effort has rewards — we spot Himalayan bulbubs, black bulbul, rufous sibia, whiskered yuhina — and as the evening falls and we have to return, our birding appetites have been whetted for more.</p>.<p>There’s a drizzle in the late night as the cloud build-up continues. We go to bed hoping for a clear dawn and with prayers for a blessed sighting of the great mountain tomorrow. But that’s not to be. Though we are up with the sun, the clouds refuse to part. The mountain will take its time. Undeterred, we take the day head-on, great as it is for birding. The canopy in a tea garden is always sparse (shade trees are put after much deliberation) but there is always a surprising variety of avifauna to be found. A peacock looks resplendent in the early morning light, perched upon a tree that sticks out from the blue hillside falling away into the valley. The faraway yearning calls of the great barbet rent through the air, and we get to see a few ones up close, their colours always surprising. There’s incessant<br />chirping in the bushes as tits, thrushes, warblers, pipits and flycatchers flit about. A pied flycatcher eyes us closely as we pass. In the distance, one of the great skulkers — the rusty-cheeked scimitar babbler — senses that it’s caught out in the open and darts back into the shadows again. Drongos loop through the air in hunting circles, chasing insects. And on another morning, we chance upon a rare Himalayan Rubythroat, sitting proudly in the open, while a blue-fronted redstart seems to follow us where we go, intrigued by our cameras. Our birding walks yield more finds: green-billed malkoha, verditer flycatcher, greater and lesser-yellownape woodpecker, scarlet minivet, velvet-fronted and Chestnut-bellied Nuthatch, Asian-barred owlet, crimson sunbird, blue-throated barbet, common green magpie, grey-headed canary flycatcher…the list goes on and our excitement knows no bounds.</p>.<p>There’s a bout of rain one afternoon and, as we dine under the stars that night, the heavens appear to be clearing. And when, next morning, Mt Kanchenjunga finally rewards us for our patience, it is a blessed sight — a giant of a mountain, magnificent in its aura, yet soothing in its beauty, the white snow on its slopes awash in the spreading light crimson of dawn, cusps of cloud caressing its peaks — a mountain to behold, if ever there was one. To the connoisseur of tea, the gardens may very well be known for the flavour of the first flush, but as we leave behind those heavenly days to head back home, it is clear to us that, through its mountains and its rich and breathtaking birdlife, there are a lot of other treasures to be truly cherished amongst the tea.</p>.<p><strong><span class="bold">How to go?</span></strong></p>.<p>Takdah forest is in the Darjeeling district in northern West Bengal. Regular flights and trains connect to Bagdogra Airport or Jalpaiguri Railway station, which is about 3 hours away.</p>.<p><strong><span class="bold">When to go?</span></strong></p>.<p>The best time is from October to March. Monsoons are extremely wet and foggy, and generally best avoided.</p>.<p><strong><span class="bold">What to do?</span></strong></p>.<p>The area is dotted with hill stations and tea estates, so take your pick. Apart from fabulous views of the Eastern Himalaya and Mt Kanchenjunga (the world’s third-highest mountain), the tea estates and small homestays are often a fabulous experience. Long walks, treks, and birding are only some of the things you can do in this land of breathtaking beauty.</p>