Ooty

Ooty is one of those places that's easier to feel than describe. You drive up through hairpin bends, the temperature drops, the air smells like eucalyptus and wet mud, and somewhere around the 30th curve you stop thinking about wherever you came from. It's been a hill retreat since the British figured out it was cooler up here, and not much about that basic appeal has changed. Tea covers every slope, an old toy train still makes the climb from the plains, and evenings actually require a jacket. It's not trying to be a luxury destination. It's just a good mountain town that happens to have very good tea.