The one thing I cannot stomach during festivals are abominably loud firecrackers. Which is why I simply have to leave the city behind every year, when it temporarily turns into a battleground during Diwali (a festival I otherwise truly love).

A couple of years ago, we fled to the hill-station of Matheran, near Mumbai. We were peacefully minding our own business at Echo Point, a lush green spot atop a cliff, where one can indulge in the cheap thrill of yelling one's own name at the top of one's lungs or make undying declarations of love to the mountains. Sadly, someone set off crackers, the impact of which was obviously ten times worse. The birds were terrified out of their wits; my eardrums, on the verge of collapse.

This year, we headed to Native Place, a guesthouse located about 11 kilometres outside Kamshet, near Mumbai city. Its Web site promised a few priceless attractions for this city-dweller: a sea of green, a lake of blue, tents, pleasant weather, organic food. And, silence. So, on the morn of Diwali, we boarded an Asiad bus (Rs 240, deluxe), en route to Pune. We alighted at Centre Point, Lonavla and found ourselves in the midst of a very svelte looking Western highway (the signboards could have read Autobahn and not Lonavala, remarked my friend). We took pictures. 

The rickshaw driver parked near the highway quoted Rs 500, the standard fare to our destination, about 20 kilometres away. This was followed by a backbreaking 40-minute trudge along an invisible road. It was the driver's second trip for the day and he clutched the steering wheel with one hand and supported the lower part of his back with the other. It is advisable to travel in a vehicle with air-suspension. After some serious huffing and puffing, the rickshaw managed to make it up the hill. Finally, we approached a solitary white bungalow overlooking a large expanse of a glistening lake, surrounded by lots of trees and vegetation. We had arrived.

The guesthouse had a Mediterranean feel to it. Lots of mosaic work and bright colours. There's no bellboy to carry your things. The owner brusquely showed us to our tents, informed us that lunch was served, and disappeared. Later, I figured one was expected to make oneself feel at home. Which is pretty easy because the place has a casual air about it. The interiors appear to have been done up randomly. A wall painted here, a cushion placed there, a tall plant growing out of the centre space, wall accessories, etc.

There was a dining table with meals served buffet-style. Lunch comprised dal, vegetable, pickle, roti and chicken, all home-cooked and delicious. As it was Diwali, there was also some great sandesh. There was a comfy-looking common room (haven't used that word since my Enid Blyton days), where you could sprawl on a sofa, read a book, play Ludo or gas with friends or fellow-guests. 

Tent and dorm dwellers had to share the bathrooms and toilets. I bumped into this chap who was just stepping out of the shower, towel wrapped around his waist. Yes, ladies, brace yourselves for co-ed loos. However, they were clean, roomy and had hot water running for 24-hours. The walls were hand painted with octopuses and other sea creatures. As for the tents, they were large enough to accommodate two people and their stuff. We were all given mattresses and some bed covers.

You may wonder why people would travel to a bungalow, just to feel at home. Well, here's the real deal. The main draw to Native Place is paragliding. Nita, a rather adventurous IIM graduate who now works with a finance company in Mumbai, was here on her own and thoroughly thrilled with her experience. She headed off every morning to a cliff in the vicinity where Sanjay Rao, owner and instructor, oriented the group on the art and craft of this adventure sport for three days. On the first day, you need to understand how it works. By the third day, if you are confident enough, you can take off on your own. Beginners can avail of the weekend initiation course, which is priced at Rs 5,500. This includes a weekend trip one night and two day stay, food at the guesthouse, an evening barbecue and an initiation into the art of free flight and the Nirvana Flying Trip. You can choose to stay in a tent, a dorm with bunk beds or a twin-sharing room.

Eventually, I too want to jump off a cliff, but my fear of heights is something I have yet to overcome. So, this time, I was content to have no agenda. I needed a break from the city and wanted to escape to a place that was peaceful, quiet, green and not commercially driven. That is just what I got.

The bungalow overlooks the Vadivali Lake, and you can spend hours simply gazing at the water. You can take a walk, sleep under the stars, lie in a hammock and read, relax or interact with guests, if you are socially inclined. I borrowed the perfect companion from fellow-tent dweller Anita -- Sand In My Bra, a collection of quirky travel stories by women travellers.

On the eve of Diwali, there was a barbeque on the terrace and Sanjay was generous with his Scotch and wine. A few children set off fireworks but, thankfully, none had the bomb effect. The next day, we hitched a ride back to the highway with a guest who shared our passion for the salsa.

Yes, it was a weekend well spent with the elements of Diwali I enjoy best -- vibrant colours, mithai that melts in your mouth and noiseless crackers that light up the night sky.

Cost of stay per head in a tent: Rs 750, 24-hour check-in, three meals included.

Web site: www.nativeplace.com

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