On the tiger trail

Sep 23 2008 JACK DOYLE heads to Nepal in search of the Bengal Tiger, Surrey Herald

In Nepal, the adventure traveller of any age group is sure to be spoilt for choice.

You can hike the peaks of the Himalayas, paraglide off vertical rock-faces, ride mountain bikes down the biggest mountains in the world and speed down cliff-lined gorges in an inflatable raft, with only a foot-long plastic oar between you and oblivion.

Between the string of colossal peaks along its northern border, and the Indian border to the south at sea level, Nepal practically resembles a 9,000-metre high skateboard ramp, built for intrepid visitors who can't resist a challenge.

Nepal is such a popular destination with Saga, the travel company which has relaxed its rules to carry 40-year olds, providing they are the travelling companions of somebody over 50.

After a comfortable business class flight in to Kathmandu, it was only a short flight due west to Nepal's famous Royal Chitwan National Park.

After a short river crossing, a 4X4 carried us into the Tiger Tops Jungle Lodge and with only a few hours before sunset, we met the creatures that would be both our means of transport and our expert tiger-finding devices.

Towering above our group was Bob, also known as Shamsher Gaj, an elegant Indian elephant: a 27-year-old, nine-and-a-half feet tall, five ton beast to keep us safe from the ferocious Bengal tiger.

The best views of Bengal tigers are to be enjoyed from Bob's back, allegedly. Surely, I assumed, the ancient pachyderm will readily put its enormous tusks between me and the tiger's giant teeth and terrifying claws.

Unfortunately Bob doesn't much relish the prospect of fighting a tiger. Our guide, Danny, standing fearlessly on Bob's lower back, explained that an elephant which smells a tiger will, given half the chance, leg it the other way pronto.

To discourage him, the driver must prod his ears: Left ear, left. Right ear, right. Both ears, forward - easy.

Not that Bob is entirely compliant. His idea of a good day out in the jungle is to eat anything within trunk reach and stamp anything else into the ground.

The vegetation is dense and lush. Thin, tall stalks of elephant grass brush my feet. Exotic birds fly overhead. As we cross the river, running low in the dry season, the sand bank reveals traces of the jungle's inhabitants.

I can see wiggly snake lines, bird feet and crocodile tracks. Then there are paw prints from the sloth bears.

Our guide's advice, if you should find yourself face to face with a sloth, is to whoop, shout and wave your arms to scare them off. The equivalent advice if a tiger comes along: climb a tree.

Then some excitement: tiger tracks! They're as clear as in a children's book. Surely we'll find a tiger now!

But no, three hours later, still without tiger but rather saddle sore from the pursuit, we pack it in for the night and return to our base camp.

Tomorrow we will look again.

At Tiger Tops in Chitwan, after a night's solid rest, we're back on the tiger trail. From a short distance away comes the yelp of a deer.

Danny the guide explains that the deer's call is a warning to his friends that they're about to become lunch for a predator. We press on in that direction, the elephant circling the area where the noise came from.

It's quiet and still, apart from Bob's chewing. We come to an opening in the trees and there's a monkey, pointing and gibbering. Ha, ha, the silly monkey, we laugh, and then realise it's pointing at the massive tiger right in front of us!

The tiger is insouciant. It looks up at us, has a think, stretches out a little bit and turns around. The whole encounter only lasted a minute or so but left such a clear impression.

It's a stunning beast. Muscular and proud, fierce and yet completely cool. As we gaze, more than a little awestruck, the tiger prowls powerfully off, silent but deadly.

That evening we toast our tiger-chasing exploits and prepare the lurid tales to tell on our return.

But why bother to spin this one? I was close enough to a tiger to see the detail of its stripes, its piercing glare, and the swish of its mighty tail. And more importantly I was utterly safe.