Wednesday January 30th - Phayre's Fair

Last night we suffered at least two power cuts and it goes off again this morning so D has to take a bucket in search of hot water. The night watchman obliges by putting a pan on the gas stove. This allows us to have what we now know should be called mug and bucket showers. We present ourselves for breakfast and are shown to a table on the terrace. D's weather app says it is 14°C in these parts. It certainly warrants long sleeves. We have ordered Bangla breakfasts and get an omelette and two substantial parathas each plus a dish of Dal with mixed veg to share. Hits the spot absolutely.

Our plan this morning is to visit Lawacharra National Park, a few kilometres up the road. This is described as a Semi - Evergreen Tropical Forest and is home to a critically endangered colony of Hoolock Gibbons, the only species of ape found in Bangladesh. From the village centre a CNG takes us up to the park main gate. Here we pay for our tickets and turn down the services of a guide. A short walk takes us to a level crossing over the railway beyond which is a snack bar, a police post and the start of the park proper. According to the various information boards there are three marked trails to choose from. There are some noisy youths and a couple of family groups already enjoying nature.

Opting for the half hour circular walk as our starter we head off away from the crowds and watch for birdlife. It can be heard but is difficult to spot amongst the trees and undergrowth. What is impressive is the array of colourful butterflies which flit around but which also pose beautifully. Previous experience has made D despair of getting decent butterfly photos but today was an exception.

The trail seems fairly obvious and we progress in a vaguely clockwise direction. We here noise in the foliage high above us and can see monkeys, not the macaques that hang around the car parks but more slender, long tailed creatures with striking white patterned faces. We wonder if these are the famous gibbons but when we get chance to look it up we find that gibbons don't have long tails. What we have seen are Phayre's Leaf Monkeys, a type of langur, and very appealling they are too

We walk on along the well used track and unexpectedly find ourselves in a small village, perched on top of a ridge. The track seems to continue down a set of steps on the other side of the hill so we take that route. As should be in a proper wilderness there is no phone signal and the maps app won't load. Looking at the sun we are heading roughly south so this should bring us to the railway if we don't find ourselves first.

A side path climbs up the hillside to a small shelter. We follow it, partly in the hope of seeing birds from the higher ground. Instead we see people harvesting leaves from vines that seem to grow up and around nearly every tree. Later research establishes that they are betel leaves, used in the preparation of paan. After a rest in the shade we return to the main track which soon takes us to the railway. D's first guess is to head west but that soon takes us to the edge of the forest. We about turn and after a mile or so we find ourselves back at the main gate.

We climb up to the cafe for a cup of tea and receive a promotional leaflet from a smartly dressed member of the Tourist Police. This provokes idle chatter about what this body actually does. As we walk back past the police post on the way to the main gate we find out when we are asked by two of them to pose holding the leaflet while they take photos of us. On the main road there is a gaggle of CNGs as well as a solitary electric auto. The guy quotes a lower price than we paid on the way in so we hire him for a trip back to the hotel, where we plan to hide from the sun for an hour. Opposite our room the pavement metal bashing works is creating a very long balustrade as well as a lot of noise. Despite this R drops off.

D spends the time researching the further delights of the Srimangal area. At 3 p.m. suitably rested we set out to find transport to take us to the remaining highlights. Our chap with the electric auto is lurking in the shade just down the street and, with the linguistic assistance of a passer by, a deal negotiated for a round trip involving waiting at a couple of places for us to be tourists.

First call is the Bangladesh Tea Research Institute, where the book suggests it is possible to "get up close and personal with the many nitty gritties of tea production." Not today it ain't. There are lots of well dressed people in the grounds but that doesn't stop us being admitted after D signs a register. 'Twenty minute visit' we are told. There are no signs of any sort and it appears to be an opportunity to wander round a rather better maintained garden than some we have seen. There are flower beds and lawns and some extremely neat rows of tea bushes but no litter. Twenty minutes is plenty of time and don't forget to sign the register again on the way out.

Ramnagar is a place name we are familiar with as we have stayed there twice when visiting Corbett National Park, north east of Delhi. This is a different Ramnagar, populated by Manipuri tribal people who are famous for weaving. It turns out to be a row of concrete lock up shops, all selling much the same things. We arrive as the school chucks out and D makes the mistake of shaking a proffered hand which causes a minor stampede as everybody else wants to join in.

A famous local delicacy is Seven Layer Tea and the original and best is allegedly served up at the Nilkantha Tea Cabin. Nothing but the best for us. We order and are told 15 minute wait. Just time to peruse the neighbouring retail opportunities. When the tea arrives it is layered although it is not possible to identify seven different tastes. Sugar, instant coffee and chocolate powder seem to dominate.  It wasn't undrinkable but we won't be rushing back.

Climbing back into the auto we suggest it is time for home but our driver thinks that we are missing something. He pulls up by some kind of park and urges us in. It is an expanse of dried out lawn, covered in litter with some rather odd statues. All around the perimeter are tables and benches shaded by parasols. There is not a word of English anywhere and we have to look the place up. It is called Bodhyabhumi 71 and is a memorial to the War of Liberation from Pakistan in 1971. Very sad that it is not better looked after.

By now it is getting cool and we get out some warmer clothes back at the Hermitage before walking down through the darkness to the village centre to eat. We have chosen a restaurant called Mejbani because it looks bright and clean and has an English menu translation. The food is good and for once we are not the only customers as some of the staff from the posh golf resort pile in.