EASY, tiger!
SHARON STEPHENSON STARES DOWN A BIG, HUNGRY CAT AND LIVES TO TELL THE TALE
If you don’t want to become part of the food chain, keep your arms and legs inside the jeep,” cautions our guide Vipul, as a 220kg Bengal tiger eyes me up for dinner. I hold my breath, but thankfully he decides I’m not tasty enough and wanders off.
I’m at Ranthambore National Park in India’s north-west, one of 40 sanctuaries scattered across this vast nation where these endangered animals can still roam freely.
Drivers at Ranthambore don’t carry guns so I’m not sure what would have happened if the tiger had felt like snacking on me but Vipul, who’s been leading tourists deep into the park’s 1334 square kilometres for years, has never lost one yet.
India is home to 70% of the world’s tigers (around 2300), but while cats might have nine lives, that’s certainly not true for the world’s largest – three tiger sub-species are now extinct and, in India, humans have pushed them out of their habitat. Poachers have done the rest and even though tiger trading has been illegal since 1973, body parts are still smuggled to China to satisfy a belief in the animal’s medicinal and aphrodisiacal properties.
Tigers like to wake up early, which means so do we. We’re up at 5am for the first of three safaris and by the time dawn stretches her fingers across the sky, we’re bouncing along turmeric-coloured roads under thick vegetation.
Ranthambore is divided into five zones, arranged around an enormous 10th-century fort. Only organised safaris, which run for three hours every morning and afternoon from October to June, are allowed.
And even though it feels as though someone has left a hairdryer on full, May and June are the best times to see Ranthambore’s 58 big cats.
This is when they get thirsty and appear at the water holes. It’s also when the dry grass makes camouflage difficult.
Despite the early hour, we’re greeted by what seems like the entire cast of The Jungle Book, including langur monkeys, spotted deer and antelope. India’s national animal is, however, nowhere to be seen.
“Listen for the call of the monkeys,” advises Vipul.
“They give out alarm calls to let you know where a tiger is.”
After 10 minutes, we hear screeches, a cue for our driver to career madly through the jungle.
We pull up just as a tiger ambles through high grass, one paw gently placed in front of the other. He might be one of nature’s most feared predators, but as he sinks into the stream, his full gaze turned towards us, he appears as docile as a kitten.
“There aren’t enough words to describe how beautiful he is,” says Vipul. He’s right – the exhilaration of eye-balling such a majestic creature at close range is palpable.
Over the next two days, we see four tigers, including two seven-month-old cubs who completely ignore the vehicles full of wide-angled lenses that document their every move.
There are, of course, other exciting moments: the herd of nilgai (Asian antelope) we see drinking at a water hole, the peacocks, India’s national bird, flirtatiously splaying their multi-coloured finery, and a grumpy sloth bear who isn’t feeling photogenic.
“You can always tell those who’ve seen a tiger,” tells Vipul. “They’re the ones grinning from ear to ear, almost boasting about their good luck.”
In fact, after each safari, it becomes almost a competition to see which guests had the best tiger sightings. Luckily, we all get more than our fill of these magnificent creatures.
And all without becoming dinner for a hungry tiger!