Go to Snooty Ooty. Review on Ooty

Ooty (Ootacamund) in Tamil Nadu, is situated in the Nilgiri Hills, also known as the Blue Mountains is one of the most beautiful places on this planet. Nani Tal in Northern India in the mountains south of the Himmalayas, is another, but that is another story.

Snooty Ooty of the title came about early in the life of the Raj because, whilst most of the, ''Less well-off people'', had to make do with life on the plains of India, only the, ''Well-off'', could afford to go to the Hill Stations as they became known.

Why the, ''Blue Mountains''? Well you just have to see them to really experience it. From a distance, they look like the Cuillins of the Island of Skye in Scotland. The colour is really a hazy blue brought about by the fact that the mountains are covered with eucalyptus trees

My first experience of the town of Ooty will have to wait a minute as I get into full stride I remember the absolute pleasure of, ''Climbing'', these mountains. No, not with ropes and crampons but, by means of the, ''Blue Mountain Express This wonderful train was comprised of little yellow and blue carriages, open sided so that we could see around without hindrance. The train ran on a narrow gauge track from Mettupalaiyam to Ootacamund. There was an extra track in the centre of the main two rails into which a cog or perhaps cogs, engaged, underneath the engine, to prevent the train slipping backwards, on the more than normally steep ascents.

Wellington was, initially in my experience of the Nilgiri Hills, my first stop as we, (My mother and my siblings), would go there when the temperature, on the plains became unbearably hot, during the summer months trails in the woods, wild animals of all kinds (Little one's), and it was very difficult for our parents to get us to come in even for meals.

I might mention that the climate in the Nilgiris was really ideal, the air itself was crystal clear, due of course to the altitude and also was filled with the very healthy odour of eucalyptus.

I won a scholarship to go to the Lawrence Memorial Royal Military School which was in Lovedale, further up the mountains. This meant that I spent all year in the Nilgiris, that is term time at Lovedale and back, ''home'', in Wellington, Heaven.

Just a short, train, ride from Lovedale is Oooty. Yes, we have arrived there at last

Ootacamund means, ''A village of huts''. It is where the smart set came to cool off. A little history, sigh! Is necessary. John Sullivan, a collector of Coimbatore apparently took a fancy to Ooty in 1819, was the first European to build a house there and had a lake built in 1823. There, that is one fact out of the way, and I always thought that the lake was natural. Soon the glorious Botanical Gardens was founded. I understand that is still in existence. These gardens were apparently funded by public subscription in 1840 although it doesn't say in my source that the public that responded actually was. Both Raj and Rajas enjoyed pucka British pastimes: Riding, golf, tennis, hunting (Yes, they apparently got themselves up in full hunting kit and rode to hounds. There was a full social season, complete with flower shows and dog shows. Snooty Ooty it most certainly was I checked recently and the local residents today, still use the houses which they endeavour to keep in good repair. The Ootacamund Club where a British lieutenant invented snooker, or was it billiards, was on Television recently, the lady who keeps it up, albeit slightly seedy, still demands a very high standard of dress. The club is kept as pristine as possible for the remainder of the aged members., staying on because, ''It is rather like Devonshire with better blooming roses and three servants''. Smart Ooty is rather run-down.

What thrives is an Indian hill town producing eucalyptus oil, making cinema film, building hydro-electric schemes, set amid charming scenery and a perfect climate.

To my memory of Ooty, we rounded a bend in the hilly road and came upon a Shangri-La; steeply wooded hillsides framed a large lake on which we were later to go boating. As boys, out for the day from our school, just a few miles down the, ''Khuds'', we were not immune to the beauty that faced us although our thoughts were more on finding the best - please excuse the spelling, I know no other - Jellabies, Luddoos, Jahgri, etc. (To the un-initiated these are Indian sweetmeats which, if you wish to sample them you have to go, in England, to Southall, Middlesex where they serve the best, to my memory). If I am to be corrected then this will be to my benefit as well as others.

There was a cinema to which we would repair later in the cool of the day, Oh! Yes, it was still hot but not the oppressive heat of the plains where 120 degrees in the shade was the norm. Imagine a nice summer's day in the Lake District without the inevitable rain.

The lake was great for boating and four or five of us hired out a rowing boat, much longer than those that ply our seaside towns, in fact very stable and with two strong oarsmen you could really skim across the water.

Now there was a legend. It could have been a legend invented by our prefects or masters in school, I don't know, I do know however that we all believed it. Apparently the lake was looked after by a Hindu Goddess who kept it full of fish and the water pure but, every year, she claimed the life of a human being - The stuff of Boys' Own Schooldays Comic, huh! - Well, and you've probably guessed it, boys being boys, we were not content with rowing, sitting down, oh! No, Not only were we trying to be Gondoliers, standing on the rear of the boat but trying to change places at the same time.

Suffice it to say that I was the one who fell in. Mark Spitz did not have a patch on me, I do not think I swam to the boat, I walked or ran on top of the water. I was determined that that Goddess was not going to get me. After a little panic we got to the shore, with three of the lads bailing the boat out on the way, (during the upset we shipped a little more water than necessary),

We did have a great laugh, probably with relief until I was told that no one was going to miss their visit to the Cinema, even if I was not dried out.

Have you ever tried to sit for 90 minutes in an air-conditioned Cinema, soaked to the skin?

I would dearly love to go back there one day, I keep promising to visit the School, maybe I'll make it next year. In the meantime, go to Ooty, you will be rewarded and, perhaps you will write about it and I can see how or if it has changed.