| As she's writing down her address for me, Elizabeth laughs and says, ''Azhakiapandipuram should mean 'a very long word for a very small place'''. We are standing in the dining room of Blackrock Estate, which sits at the top of one of the highest hills above that Tamil village. It was a journey of seventeen kilometers up a winding, rutted jeep road to reach this stunning plantation, built on 400 acres of the maharajah of Kerala's former hunting grounds. Blackrock is home to a wonderful family of Anglo-Indians named Simpson. Great-grandfather Simpson was a missionary from Gloucester who settled here around 1850, and married a local woman. Apparently he was often invited by the Maharajah to go hunting, because he had the best gun in the area. Over time they became very friendly, and Simpson was given the land that is now Blackrock. |
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The major crop at Blackrock is cloves, and the season has just begun when we arrive. It will take weeks a couple months from start to finish, and due to its inaccessibility Blackrock must play host to the scores of temporary laborers who come to work the tress. These men will live up here on the plantation, far from their families, for the duration of the harvest. |
| In addition to the cloves, Blackrock grows nutmeg and cinnamon; and due to its remote location also maintains a self-sufficient small farm complete with cow, 3 calves, a large hutch of rabbits, guinea pigs, roosters and chickens, and a basket of lively baby chicks. |
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I tour around the house on my own, until I find Elizabeth and Mary-Rose in the detached kitchen. It's a beautiful structure with a raised concrete floor, painted sunny yellow outside and a cooling blue inside. The well-seasoned pans and unlabeled jars of spices appeal to the cook in me, and the women are amused by my interest. Nikita, Elizabeth's faithful Shepherd-mix, waits happily by the door for any petting or tidbit that might happen her way. |
| The kitchen shortly produces a luncheon worthy of its rich and rustic flair: savory rabbit curry, rice and pappad, and spiced eggs. After eating, a walk is proposed, and we set off up the hill with five of the resident dogs taking turns leading the way. Uncle Titi explains, ''In fact all of these chaps want to be in the front''- all except Nikita, who sticks close by Elizabeth and I as we bring up the rear. We eventually climb all the way up to the towering black rocks that give the plantation its name, and we turn in slow circles taking in 360-degree views of warm haze and valleys and neighboring peaks. |
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Descending the western face of the mountain, the sky buzzes with heavy dragonflies by the hundred. Graceful trees stand here and there among the many black rocks. We pause to enjoy a cooling breeze, and as we rest Arthur tells us about the bears and deer (and we guess, snakes) that live on the mountain. We are delighted to hear there are also wild elephants! Shortly before our visit he was walking on the south side of the valley alone, without the dogs, and unwittingly stumbled across a female and her calf; fortunately it was a steep slope and he was able to run downhill away from the charging female. While we'd love to encounter an elephant ourselves, there's not much chance of that with the five dogs with us. |
| Back from our hike, we find a team of workers in the courtyard pulling pale green cloves from the branches picked that day. They will spread these flower buds in the sun to dry into the familiar dark brown spice. Before we leave that evening, Elizabeth ensures we each have several brown paper bags full of Blackrock spices - black pepper, cinnamon bark, nutmeg, mace, and of course a large bag of cloves. |
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