The Hindu Business Line : A place for rural tourism

Madapoosi Narasimhan has spent Rs 4 crore on a time-share resort here. When completed, the resort would stand as a contrasting feature on the landscape, a five-star facility in the middle of crops and more crops; to hear the honk of an automobile, you'd have to walk at least 3 km.

RUSTIC FLAVOUR: In the 'heart of India'. M. Ramesh

Be honest. The last time you had a holiday at a beachside resort you deluded yourself that you had a great time. Sure, you swam in the sea, rode boats, worked out in the gym and had a few drinks by the bonfire; but heart of hearts, you knew there was nothing unique about this experience. One beachside resort is exactly the same as the other and the feeling of déjà vu is a drop of poison in the jar of joy.

What is `Indian' about a stay in a five-star hotel?

An emerging alternative to this is eco-tourism (or village tourism), which is the fastest growing segment in the tourism industry, according to the World Tourism Organisation — with an annual growth of 5 per cent worldwide and representing 6 per cent of the world GDP, 11.4 per cent of all consumer spending.

Although there are a number of `village tourism projects' in India — the Government of Kerala announced 50 such projects last month — this concept is yet to evolve fully in India. India saw 4.4 million tourist arrivals in 2006 (and earned $6.5 billion), but only a tiny percentage opted for village tourism.

That's a pity because village tourism is truly `budget' for the tourist, while the benefits go directly to the villagers. Often tourists stay in the homes of villagers and get a real feel of the `heart of India'.

To sample village tourism, let's go to Annur, a tiny village in Chittoor district of Andhra Pradesh, which has never seen any activity other than agriculture — until now. This swathe of agricultural land lies at the foot of rocky hills. Two types of crops are grown chiefly: sugarcane and paddy.

Walking into the resort, I was reminded of the gangster Ben (Bugsy) Siegel who, in the 1940s, audaciously set upa gambling resort in the middle of the Nevada desert, 500 km from the nearest habitation.

As financiers are sceptical (just as Siegel's were), Narasimhan sold off his property in Chennai to put up a demonstrative unit at Annur, selling time-shares of which, he hopes, would open up bank funding.

Will the time-shares sell? While the village itself is in the middle of nowhere, there are plenty of interesting places in the vicinity. The little Krishnapatnam dam is 10 km away — an excellent swimming and picnic spot. At an hour's drive is the Kone waterfalls. Historic temples — Sholingur, Kalahasti, Tirupati, Narayana Vanam, Pilliar Koil — are all less than a couple of hours' drive. Since all these lie among hills and waterways, there is plenty of fun to be had.

So, the range of activities goes as follows: breakfast, temple visit or architectural tourism, lunch, siesta, a tour of the sugarcane fields or the many jaggery-making cottage units in the area or a visit to a picnic spot or a game of tennis, and dinner by a bonfire in the company of fireflies. The cuisine is typical rustic fare — spicy Andhra food cooked in earthen pots on slow, firewood ovens in open kitchens. Narasimhan hopes NRIs would buy Annur time-shares, drawn by the resort's unique offering of a combination of pilgrimage and leisure.

Whether Narasimhan is an entrepreneurial genius, only time can tell; but he is exactly where Ben Siegel once was. Ben's project suffered huge cost overruns, because he kept changing the design for perfection and, as a consequence, had to borrow excessively, often from the mafia — a trap Narasimhan has carefully avoided falling into.

A walk into Annur village, however, will not get you in touch with any mafia. The locals are mild-mannered village-folk, wont to greeting a stranger with some offering from the kitchen. Take out a camera and the whole family will line up for a pose, grinning. A walk into the fields will often bring you to a pumpset; it is great fun to bathe in their gushing waters.

A little yonder, there are workers cutting cane. I ask them the obvious question: Do you encounter snakes? "Oh, all the time," laughs Muthu, a worker from Puducherry. "Last week, they caught one — this big — weighing about 65 kg." It was a python that had slipped in from the neighbouring hills.

Out pops obvious question No. 2: Are you guys not afraid? "We are, but what to do? We've to make a living," Muthu's colleague Palani says. Last year, Palani's brother was bitten by a snake and had been rushed to Palipat, 5 km away, for first-aid. The treatment cost about Rs 6,000, roughly a month's earning. The landowner gave him a `grant' of Rs 200, which Palani "threw back on his face". Landowners are, by law, required to take health covers on agricultural workers, but this is neither followed nor enforced.

See? That is the whole point abouteco-tourism — apart from the scents of the crops, you see the heart of India, the aspirations and disappointments of its inhabitants, something a five-star hotel stay or a fibreglass boat-ride will never get you.

It is still a nascent industry, but entrepreneurs like Narasimhan are confident it will boom.

Meanwhile, another day comes to a close at Annur. As darkness engulfs the resort, thousands of bats leave their roosts and, shrieking loudly, perform aerobatics in the sky. Below them stands the only fully built unit of the resort, patiently waiting for its first commercial occupant.

That brings us to the question: What became of Ben Siegel's gambling resort in the middle of the desert? Taken over by financiers, it turned out to be a commercial success and a lively township developed around it.

Because of his links with the mafia, however, Ben did not live to see it — it became the city of Las Vegas.

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A place for rural tourism