Day 25: Thrissur – Cochin

May 29 was a day off. We visited Palakkad and Guruvayur by bus, and returned really late to Krishnan’s granduncle’s place. I directly went to sleep while the others had dinner.

Today we woke up late and planned to leave in the afternoon. But amazing weather – nice and cloudy – made us think of departure in the morning itself. There was a little tension as Shyam searched for his keys (he had lost his other set last night at the police station). Then some drama as we broke the lock. We finally left at eleven.

Ten km from Thrissur, we met NH47 which was a pleasant surprise – wide, flat stretch with treeshade. We made good speed to Chalakudy (30km) by 1:30pm, where we had lunch. Then a few km on to Koratty, where we relaxed in the shade of the trees in the Govt printing press. Nice place.

In the evening, we went on effortlessly, stopping by Aluva (Alwaye) for juice. Here there were mile-long traffic jams, but our cycles ensured we were not trapped in them.

The mango jam I was carrying decided to join its brothers in the traffic. The bottle tore its plastic bag, fell and opened. As it rolled, it spread jam all over the crowded road. I said goodbye to what was becoming a headache and cycled on. We never got to taste the jam.

Cochin and Ernakulam are large twin cities that start after Aluva itself. Shyam knew the address of Srihari Sukumaran, a classmate of his, and we found the way there without any difficulty. It must have been about eight pm. The Sukumarans seemed not in the least put off by this unintimated intrusion and warmly welcomed us into their large house.

After a good dinner, Mr Sukumaran took us for a spin in his car. He showed us around this great port city. Willingdon Island, the docks, the harbour, the Navy all looked very tranquil in the city that had gone to sleep. Mr Sukumaran pointed out the innumerable islands the city is made of and each could be individually discerned, thanks to the large number of lights throughout the area. It was a beautiful and peaceful sight, but we were told the city becomes a crowded, bustling hub in the daytime.

Later, Mr Sukumaran took us to a fancy restaurant and treated us to butterscotch icecream. It turned out he works in a private electronics company that manufactures connectors. We returned to his place after a good ride and must have slept at 12:30am.

Estimate of distance covered today: 84km

Shrik’s Laws of Touring

1. “Good road” and “highway” are not synonymous.

2. The product of the size of a vehicle and the number of times its rider will blow the horn is constant.

3. If a cow decides to cross the road, it will cross the road halfway and then decide not to cross the road.

4. At the most picturesque point in your trip, a dog would have committed suicide on the road.

5. The more tasteless and expensive the restaurant that you found after a long distance is, the greater the certainty that there’ll be a better one a few hundred metres further on.

Day 24: Chellary – Thrissur

Malappuram is a district full of lots of hills, and the national highway goes over all of them. The heat and high humidity, combined with yesterday’s forgettable experience at the police station, made this one of the worst cycling days. We planned to reach Thrissur (Trichur) by tonight, but an extremely slow progress hampered by Shyam’s illness – he has a headache and loose motions – made me doubt we were gonna make it. Krishnan and Shyam suggest giving up and catching a bus/jeep to Thrissur instead. I was against the idea.

A breakfast of parathas at Kottakkal settled down heavily into my stomach, and same went for the others too. 10km ahead we descended a major slope – spoilt by rumblers – and called a halt. Ditched lunch and ate Complan and tukkudi instead. We then had a good rest under a roadside tree, waiting for the sun to cool down.

After it got cool enough, we made for Thrissur where Krishnan’s granduncle lives. It must be about 65km, but we decided to make it come what may, given Shyam’s illness.

51km to Thrissur, we bid adieu for good to NH17 and took the state highway. Good road, but the hills were still there. At the 35 milestone, Malappuram district ended and Thrissur began. The hills disappeared – just like that – beyond the border. I stopped my cycle and looked back in respect at the district that had caused us to nearly quit cycling.

5km more and it was darkness – but the road was lined with establishments that were lit and I had rare occasion to use my torch. This was going to be our longest night cycling so far and definitely the latest by which we reach a place. To avoid troubling Krishnan’s aged relatives, we had dinner at 18km, a town called Kecchere. Overall sidey food, but eating joints are closing down fast at 9:00pm, and we have little option.

From then onwards the light on the road reduced and I found myself at times admiring the clear night sky. That is, until a vehicle whizzed past and blinded the nightsight out of me.

We reached Thrissur very late and spent a good time searching for the house. Some helpful locals finally escorted us there. It was 11pm. Had a good bath. The lady of the house served us tea and bananas.

Given our extreme condition in the morning, it is surprising how we completed our kilometer century of the day, the third so far. Looking back, it happened because of Thrissur’s (relative) flatness, and the fact that we could cycle so much in the night. We can change the pattern now to cycle after dinner too. The cool night air is definitely better than the late morning and afternoon sun – only it’s a pity you can’t see the area you’re cycling through. At the end of tonight’s run, I was still as fresh as I was in the morning and could have cycled a few more hours through the darkness.

Actually, a shorter, more direct, coastal and perhaps less hilly route to Cochin would be:

• Leave NH17 at Feroke, take state highway.
• Go to Tirur via Parappangadi.
• Rejoin NH17 before Ponnani, go to Ponnani
• Carry on the NH to Edapally, from where Cochin is a few km more.

But we selected the current route because of Krishnan’s contact in Thrissur.

Estimate of distance covered today: 104km

Day 23: Vadakara – Chellary

The monsoon struck. Finally. After days of uncertainty and nights of distant lightning, last night the rains hit with full fury – lightning, strong winds, the works. In the middle of the night, Krishnan and Shyam made a dash to the cycles where a lot of stuff was still lying, while I scrambled to save the shoes. While doing so I’m certain I saw lightening strike very, very close indeed. The night then became a lot cooler, though the humidity refused to vanish.

In the morning, we left after exchanging addresses with a Kannada speaking policeman. In the cool morning air, it was a dream to cycle on the slowly drying highway. The monsoon weather lasted till Koyilandi (Quilondi), where we had our breakfast of dosa-sambar. After this it became hot, but we fought to reach Kozhikode (Calicut) by 1:30pm.

Calicut is a large city with six-digit phone numbers. A clean place, we had lunch somewhere in the heart of the city, in a classy restaurant (by our standards). It was the first time I saw a classy restaurant, patronized by rich people, serving only lunch plates. Lunch was good and filling, with eight side dishes and unlimited rice to have it with.

After a short rest, we cycled to the museum and art gallery which Krishnan was very keen on seeing due to a special section on KV Krishna Menon. Otherwise, a standard small-sized museum described in the tourist guide. The art gallery has some Vermas.

It was early evening by the time we finished. We started at a leisurely pace on NH17, not knowing where our night halt would be. At darkness we found ourselves outside the Calicut University and explored a nearby canteen for grub. Bad. We then saw a bit of the University which was quite a neat and well-maintained place.

The police stations in Kerala are very different from those in the preceding states, both in construction and in the attitude of their policemen, as we found to our dismay. When we returned to the PS, the guy there refused us accomodation, giving vague reasons of “sourya” (comfort) and “checking”(?). He asked us to try the university guest house. We trudged there to find the manager either away or sleeping, and a sidey unwilling to take responsibility. Went to a hostel to find extremely friendly inhabitants but a similarly sidey watchie who quoted rules and remembered the warden.

To soothe him, we went back outside and phoned the warden from a public booth. Not in town. A few more phone calls and no one’s around. So at one point of time, we were about to call the Vice Chancellor of a University for permission to stay the night when we envisaged the time it would take, and how silly it all was. So with a bad taste in the mouth, we went back to the PS with our sob story.

The policeman reluctantly gave us veranda space, but only after seeing all our i-cards and noting down the minutest details and pointing out the randomest discrepancies in them. (“How does an i-card issued in ’96 and valid till ’99 agree with your statement that yours is a four year course?”) A very frustrating thing when you’re sleepy. Overall, all the PS in Kerala so far were unhelpful, suspicious and distrustful. Compare this to the five minutes it took for the policeman to assure our safety in say, Vengurla or Mangalore. If you don’t have someone who knows Malayalam in Kerala, you’re sunk.

Shyam’s cycle had a breakdown in the morning – his freewheel broke something. We had to wait an hour or so to get it repaired.

Estimate of distance covered today: 70km

Kerala

I finally learnt not to get shocked by the Keralites’ strange way of greeting. In contrast with the Marathi “Kuthna aalaat?” or the more polite Kannada “Yaava ooru?”, the Mallu says it with a loud tuneful “Hellooo!” or a “Hieee!”. The way to reply to this is an equally tuneful hello or hi, which is usually received by a satisfied “Aaah!”. The greeter may then, if he wishes, ask you some question in Malayalam.

Sights typical of Kerala are:
• Coconut trees
• Cool bars
• NH17
• Huge bananas
• “Arts and sports clubs”
• “Rumblers”
• “Limited stop” buses
• Gulf houses
• Railway crossings
• Confusing milestones
• Hot brown drinking water
• Milma

Kerala being one of the more recently formed linguistic states, I found to my surprise that many people can speak Kannada. Many times the reply to the apologetic “Malayalam arilla” was “Kannada?” Through observation, this can be safely assumed of any old-timer, rarely of the younger generation brought up on Malayalam. It might be safer to talk in English rather than in Hindi, as a few of the youth are anti-Hindi.

Day 22: Kanhangad – Vadakara

I had a good night’s sleep, despite the railway line right beside the ashram. I woke at five to the sounds of recorded bhajans and prayers. A volunteer showed us the artificial caves there. The story goes that around 1900, Bhagavan Nityananda constructed these caves here and the local people filed a petition against him claiming that he was stealing money. A British official came to investigate and Bhagavan Nityananda jumped into a nearby water tank and pulled out a bag of gold coins saying “I get money from here whenever I want." The official was so pleased that he just gave all that land to Bhagavan Nityananda for his use!

We were also served morning tea. Partly to help these guys carry on the good work and partly to soothe Shyam’s guilt feelings about the free food and accomodation here, we donated some money into the hundi.

We left at 6:30am along a great NH17. We reached Payannur (28km) at 8:45am and had our fill of pineapple and cashew juice. 5km further on, we left NH17 to take a shorter state highway to Kannur, saving 7-8km over the national highway route.

The state highway had a few climbs initially, but it was in good shape. The Kanhangad - Kannur distance reduced to 62km by using this route. It rejoined the NH 7km before Kannur, from where it was one hot, sweaty trek across the city of Kannur to Thottada, some 6km beyond it, where we had arbitrary grub at some arbitrary canteen. We walked a little further on where a housekeeper allowed us to rest in his orchard. We had fresh pineapple slices & grape juice for dessert and relaxed.

In the evening, we followed a highway that often crossed the rail tracks and kissed the sea at times. Through the narrow, twisting lanes of Telichery (Thalassery) (27km), up a climb and descend, cross a creek to enter...


...Mahe (37km). The road guide says Mahe has "sea-skirting roads and unique French flavour", but they forgot the trees. The surprising greenery that comes out of any nook and cranny, even in these hot summer days. The highway in Mahe is just a 1-2km stretch and lined prominently by booze bars. Pondicherry was thus the shortest and easiest state to pass through in our journey.

We continued a little beyond Pondicherry for Vadakara (Badagara), but it was getting dark. Shyam fell while trying to mount the highway from the shoulder. No serious injuries, but his pedal got bent to hit the cycle. Some rudimentary repairs later, we continued in darkness – there was a power cut in the entire area.

We reached Vadakara at 8:30pm, which was too late for dinner. Settled for some parathas and went and had a bath in the police station.

Today we must have broken the distance record for the trip by cycling 105km, but there's not much exhaustion to show for it, save for a slight hint of undie bite. In fact, my ankle stopped hurting once I removed the anklet that I was wearing to protect it. Maybe the roads are getting better and better – or are we just getting “studder”?

Lightning on the horizon tonight. I wonder...?

Day 21: Mangalore – Kanhangad

We set off at 7:30am, aiming for Kasargod (50km) by lunchtime. The highway was not as good nor as flat as it was yesterday, and there were innumerable ups and downs. Not an easy 50km, but we had the enthusiasm of crossing the state border today. 17km from Mangalore, the border is an innocuous signboard. A pleasant surprise was a milestone with “Kanyakumari 734km” on it.

We had our breakfast 33km from Mangalore in the shade of a banyan tree. There were no noticeable effects of crossing into Kerala – in fact, Kannada was prominent well into Kasargod district.


Reaching Kasargod by noon, we had cheap lunch near the bus stand. From Kasargod, the national highway takes a longer inland route to go south, while the state highway is a more direct route to Hosdurg. We followed this road a few km and then rested in a palm grove for the afternoon.

I removed and unpacked my bag to write this report to find – jam! Never had I thought jam could get into so many places so fast. Luckily, most of my stuff was packed individually in plastic bags, but cleaning all of them and washing a blanket and t-shirt was a trying experience. Most of the jam was salvaged in the end but it remains a problem what to do with it.

I sprained my ankle sometime during the afternoon halt. To top it all, my goggles went missing, possibly flicked. Today is just not my day.

Thankfully, the road in the evening was a joy to cycle on. It goes beside the railway tracks all the way and at times gives a good view of the sea. At Bekal (14km), there is a stretch parallel to the beach on one side and the rail lines on the other. Not quite like Maravanthe, since the beach is lined with traditional houses.

The Bekal fort is half a km from the highway and worth a visit. It was once a Tipu Sultan fort and has the sea on two sides. A smallish fort, the caretaker let us take our cycles in and waived our entrance fees. A nice English-speaking chap.

I met a guy called Vinod who was doing his 2nd year Computer Science in Manipal Institute of Technology. A friendly guy, he told me a little about the area. Finally, we left the fort to reach Kanhangad at dusk. What is given as Hosdurg on the map is actually Kanhangad. Hosdurg is the fort in the city.

At Kanhangad, the police surprised us by refusing us accomodation, albeit politely. One policeman recommended an ashram half a km away.

The Sadguru Nithyananda Ashram is a memorial to a holy man of that name who attained Samadhi in 1961. It has volunteers and a trust and seems quite popular and well off. The people in charge allowed us to sleep the night. They are very kind and courteous, unlike some temple priests I remember from the trip. (The ashram is not a temple) They even gave us dinner of rice and sambar, which we ate indoors in the light of a petromax.

It is 9:15pm and a cool breeze is blowing in the courtyard of the ashram. After finishing this report, I’ll have a bath and then a well-earned sleep to rest my ankle.

Estimate of distance covered today: 76km

Day 20: Udupi – Mangalore

This is a jump in the day numbering, as I have eliminated the two days I relaxed in Udupi as Krishnan and Shyam went to Mysore, Belur & Halebeedu.

They returned today morning at 5:30. We left Udupi after lunch. After three full days without cycling, we were rejuvenated. Even my cycle had stopped its routine creaking. I left Udupi with a light heart and a heavy bag – stuffed with laddoos, chips, sweets and jam – a whopping 1kg jar of it!

The Udupi-Mangalore stretch was 60km long, and a well-laid highway. We made really good speed, stopping by KREC Suratkal (40km) for water and a look around.

Just after Suratkal is New Mangalore, a port city. At this point, the highway became four laned and incredibly smooth. We zipped along to reach Mangalore, just as darkness enveloped the large city.

After an OK dinner, we went and parked at the police station at Pandeshwara, among some really inquisitive and helpful policemen. The excellent highway was responsible for our record-breaking session in the evening. However, one has to be careful on the Kundapura-Mangalore stretch. There is a lot of heavy traffic and all of it travels at high speed. A few times, I had near misses when trucks or buses passed me by a couple of inches. Definitely not a stretch to be done at night.

After a good bath in the police station complex, we spread our carrimats and slept, at the base of a general statue of a policeman.

Estimate of distance covered today: 60km

Day 19: Kundapura – Udupi

Not much cycling today. We set off at 6:30am from Kundapura after having milk. The monsoon clouds steadily gathering day by day ensured a dark, cloudy sky, and our ride to Udupi was very peaceful. I surprised Krishnan (and myself!) by remembering the way to Harinivas (my grandma's place) from the highway. Touched at 9:30am. The first thing we did was have a good bath and wash away all the accumulated dirt and stink of the past few days.

In the afternoon, after a good sleep, we took a walk around. I took Shyam & Krish around the temple areas. Both of them intend to make a bus trip to Mysore, Belur & Halebeedu in the next few days. They went and booked tickets for the 9:45pm bus to Mysore.

Estimate of distance covered today: 36km

Day 18: Honnavara – Kundapura

We woke up early – 4:30am. It’s become a habit by now! Our plan was to make Bhatkal (38km) the afternoon halt. But an incredibly smooth highway and the partly clouded sky made for good speed. I stopped a few minutes at Shiruru to encash a Travellers Cheque and moved on again, making the most literal use of a TC! Reaching Bhatkal by 10am, we decided to make Baindur our afternoon halt, thus cycling a record 57km in the morning session.


We had OK grub at Baindur. Instead of sleeping the afternoon away as usual, we caught a bus for Kollur, about an hour’s journey. There is a Mookambikeshwara temple here. Kollur town is set amongst green hills. We reached at two, but had to wait until three for the temple gates to open.

After viewing the temple, we waited till 4:30pm for the return bus. Plenty of buses to Kundapura - Udupi - Mangalore and even Kerala(!), but few to Baindur. Sitting in the bus, I enjoyed what I'd missed by sleeping on the forward journey – an evergreen forest through which the rough hill road twists and turns.

From Baindur, the highway quality deteriorates but we fought for speed to watch the sunset at Maravanthe, halfway to Kundapura.


Kundapura was our night halt. Good home-flavoured dinner - I can feel Udupi’s proximity!. As usual, the police were very helpful but they could not do anything about the water shortage. We were forced to sleep without a bath.

Today we contacted three police stations – or rather four if we count Honnavara.

• Bhatkal – for information about the area in general and Baindur in particular.
• Baindur – for permission to leave our cycles as we bused to Kollur.
• Kundapura – for night halt.

What surprised me was that each police station seemed to have contacted the next (over the wireless possibly), so that the police seemed well informed and ready for us as we arrived. This kind of concern was totally unexpected from a force that is projected in the mass media as lethargic and aloof from the people. Earlier too, there were vague signs that a police station knew of us beforehand but this was the first time it hit us so directly. As soon as I entered the PS at Baindur, the on-duty officer said, “Oh! The cycle tourists. What can I do for you?” I was touched.

Estimate of distance covered today: 90km

Day 17: Jog Falls – Honnavara

Without any watches or clocks, we let dreams take over and slept till nine. After a relaxed toilet and heavy breakfast by the falls, we started descending by the steps to the base of the falls.

What a sight! I put each foot slowly down the steps, drinking in the climate, the vegetation and the view of the falls as I descended. It was a good walk. Once down, we clambered over rocks and small streams to reach the base, a small pool fed by four individual streams. Looking around, it was a claustrophobic sight. Remembered Kiran's description of the Grand Canyon, and suddenly made up my mind to go hiking there next! Above, the wind and sun played tricks with the falls – taking individual streams and twisting and funnelling them, before finally converting them to magical mist which swirled and danced as it floated down. There was not much water in the falls as compared to the photographs displayed in the tourist shops above, but the falls are still worth a visit in the height of summer. In fact, I later discovered that in the monsoons, it would be impossible to descend the steps and go within touching distance of the falls – a not-to-be-missed experience.

We wanted to have a bath under the waterfall (à la Liril?) The rightmost fall – I forget its name – is the only one accessible for this purpose. I wove my way carefully through the slippery rocks and stopped just short of the falling water. By here the spray was like rain, falling thick and heavy and accompanied by the chilling wind – now where did the wind come from?

I went and dried myself naturally on the rocks by the pool, looking around at the awesome view. Downstream, the waterfall had cut its way through the stratified rock, and forests had taken over the steep slopes the waterfall had once created. At places, narrow strips of forest had come down almost to the valley floor, making me think of them as “greenfalls”. Various birds had made their home in the numerous crevices on the slopes. What a place to live!

We hardly realized how the time flew. By the time we started up again, numerous cool drink sellers had established themselves on the way – they looked surprised and asked us when and where we’d come from! We made our way up the path strewn with empty tetrapaks, aluminium foil and plastic littered by careless tourists. The tourist pressure was currently 50-100/day, but it can increase to about 3000-4000 a day in the “season” – the rainy season, that is. Another advantage of coming in the summers?

There is a hydroelectricity plant a few km downstream, but it was closed to tourists after the Cauvery water dispute arose. We might have got in with our IIT cards, but decided against it. We were hungry, and it was afternoon – we had plans of cycling to Bhatkal in the evening. Fortunately or unfortunately, there were no immediate buses from Jog to Honnavara, so we had a good trek down the road back to Mavinagundi, where we had a tense lunch of idlis, waiting at any time for a bus that was already late.

It never turned up. Later we had some locally prepared pineapple juice, and sat by the forest check post looking for transportation that was bound to stop there. Still no buses. It was turning five. Had to give up on the idea of cycling today. Honnavara is 57km from here, and it takes two hours by bus.

Most of my treks seem destined to involve a ride in a truck, and the time seemed to have now come. At five, an LCV stopped at the forest check post and the driver agreed to take us. We climbed in at the back. After seeing so many cool drinks at the tourist town, it seemed appropriate that the truck was carrying cool drink bottles. We sat on a tarpaulin on the crates.

The initially few km through the dense forest were really great. Shimoga! I made up my mind to explore this district and surrounding area by mobike sometime in life. Cycling, that’d too difficult over the hilly terrain.

The road was not that rough, but sitting on cool drink bottles was a little uncomfortable. Krishnan became sick a couple of times. The truck stopped a few times on the way to drop off some crates at restaurants and bars. Later I shifted to a prone position which I discovered was more comfortable. It was a memorable ride in the evening. I saw dark clouds gather overhead. Please! No rain so soon! As such we’re lucky not to experience the pre-monsoon showers the Deccan gets around this time. Thankfully, no showers today. Lying prone on the crates, we discussed the interesting shapes the clouds appeared to make. We got down at Honnavara and had dinner at a large clean Kamat restaurant.

Madhu left us tonight to return to Bombay. He has some academic tensions, having received news that he got an EE in a core course. So now we're down to three. Before leaving, Madhu treated us to ice-cream. We shared a litre pack which turned out very filling. Finally slept without having a bath in the mosquito-infested police station. No cycling today.

Day 16: Ankola – Jog Falls

Surprisingly, all of us were up early, and we moved before sunup for Gokarn along a country road. We had to take a ferry on the way. We reached Gokarn early, but not early enough to evade the hordes of tourists who had come by private tour buses to see the famous temple(s) here.

The temples at Gokarn were an eye-opener for me as to what all a temple must not be. The temple trust seems to have allowed itself to become commercialized along with the town. The pujaris assail you as soon as you enter the temple complex, and ingratiatingly ask you to perform this aarti for 31 bucks, or that puja for 101 bucks.

Gokarn town is a temple town like Udupi, but on a smaller scale. But the similarities end there. Among the more arbitrary rules the temple has made for its devotees are:

1. A bath in the sea is compulsory before entering. (however, Shyam and I slipped in bathless)

2. There is an “entrance fee” of 50ps for the Ganpati temple and Re1 for the Gokarna temple. However, in return the temple doesn’t provide any facilities for the devotees such as bathing ghates, toilets or footwear stands for that matter.

3. Shirts, vests and cameras must be removed before entering the temple. Inside, it was hot, humid and stuffy. There was confusion as a lot of people tried to crowd into a small place and touch the deity. The pujaris ordered people around impatiently. One of them in fact directed us on a reverse pradakshina.

4. There are fines for disobeying rules such as Rs1.50 for bringing in footwear and Rs10.00 for getting in a camera or spitting. These fines are allegedly for prayaschitta, the concept of "paying for one's sins" that I thought had gone out with the Renaissance.

5. Of the most dangerous ones – persons suffering from leprosy are not allowed into the temple.

This was definitely not my idea of how a place of worship should be like. If people prefer to pray this way, so be it. But I would prefer something like the Kodavoor devasthana, or the churches of old Goa any day.

Surprisingly, Krishnan said he liked the temple, which just goes to show how differently two people can feel about the same thing. But then, Krishnan likes all temples!

We left Gokarn and went to Kumtha by another country road. This too involved a ferry, and the Gokarn-Kumtha distance reduced to about 20km – much shorter than the highway route, which is about 38km. The country roads we took from Ankola to Kumtha were rough and uneasy to ride on unlike the highway, but then again, in contrast to the highway there was no pollution at all – the grimy dirt that sticks to you and is hard to remove, unlike the red mud and dust of the countryside, which is tolerable.

We had decent food by the Kumtha bus stand. There was a strange system of a different table for each individual diner, and the first time on the trek we were served each item separately on our plates (which were initially empty).

A warning for future travellers – water crisis! The shortage of water starts right from Ankola and en route we were desperately hunting for good quality clear water. All the tap water we had on the tour so far was ok and no one upset his stomach, but the water quality on this stretch made us decide not to push our luck. Be sure to carry lots of water – especially off highway.

Later in the evening, we covered the distance of 17km to Honnavara uneventfully. The only strange thing I remember is seeing a thatched house with brand-new Mangalore tiles. It did look a little odd. Then I remembered Prof Date’s observations on villagers – that when they come into money, the first thing they’ll do is get a good rain-proof roof, next good walls an so on downward.

We reached Honnavara bus stand and enquired about buses to Jog. It turned out all the night buses to Bangalore take that route. So we went to the police station, unpacked all our stuff in a safe place and put all the essentials into one bag.

At 6:45pm, we boarded the Bangalore bus but did not get seats immediately. Everyone was staring at us in our dishevelled state. We were wearing shorts and Madhu, a pair of jeans torn in n places. Even the conductor was rude to us initially, but as he learnt who we were, and what we were up to, he got talking. We became really friendly and he cautioned us to the various dangers of cycling.

After some time, we got seats and an opportunity to observe the excellent ghats and forests in the darkness. The road cut through the hills and was at stretches lined with high walls of rock on either side – blackish red rock. A sight that is so typical of Karnataka! As we rode on, memories of other bus rides through forests flashed through my mind – memories of Assam, of Untoorkatte, of Sariska… Gradually, however, the rocking motion of the bus lulled me to sleep.

The bus stopped for dinner at a decent place at Mavinagundi, some 5km from Jog Falls. At Jog, it was too dark to see the waterfalls but we could hear the water. Jog is a small but well laid-out town, and the effects of the Falls and the associated dam are seen – a lot of streetlights and supply of water.

It was a beautiful night and without any encumberances like cycle, luggage et al, it was ideal to sleep outside. Unfortunately, we had not got much bedding or carrymats and Shyam – the Madrassi – was feeling cold. So we took a room in the Youth Hostel for Rs.100 the night and settled in. The Y.H. was well equipped with mattresses and clean bedding, running water in the bath etc. Only it seemed odd that not many youth were there – it catered mainly to the middle aged and old tourists who came by package tour buses.

Later, Krishnan and I went a bit up the road where it was dark and lay down on the road by the canal, watching the fireflies. Had a long talk on everything under the moon, till we, to borrow from Jerome K Jerome, common-place, everyday young men enough, felt strangely full of thoughts, half sad, half sweet, and did not care or want to speak.

Day 15: Kankon – Ankola

In the morning, we decided to try a shortcut given on the map instead of the roundabout highway route, only to discover there are no bridges across the two creeks of Tapona and Galjibaga. Determined to have our shortcut, we pushed our cycles up to the Konkan Railway line, and followed it all the way across Galgibaga. Perhaps the highway might have taken lesser time, but this was something new. We nonplussed a few KRC workers who just couldn’t understand our idea of leaving the highway to cycle on rail tracks.


Across the creek at Maxem, we dismounted the tracks and met the highway. Here we had our breakfast of a strange kind of “Goan bread”, which looked like puris.

The highway was wide and smooth, and we made good pace to cross the Karnataka border and reach Chittakula some 7km before Karwar. Here we had to wait while Krishnan cycled back to search for his watch, which he’d forgotten at the border. He couldn’t find it. Finally, we went on to Karwar and had decent food.

Karwar has a beautiful bay and coastline, and supposedly a fine harbour. We pushed our cycles through the sand to rest in a pine grove just before the beach, keeping an eye out for crap, lovers and buffalos.

Since no one had a watch now, nor the enthusiasm to remove the alarm clock from the bag, the time flew and before we knew it, it was five. We had GKRs and took the highway for Ankola (33km). After the first few ghats, this was a really tireless ride through forest. Now we understood how a kilometre on a highway (rather, a national highway) is different from a kilometre on a country road.

We saw the Konkan Rail almost all the way to Ankola. Apparently there's a train from Mangalore up to Kankon, which explained why the signals on the lines were working. At Ankola, we used our Kannadas (Madhu, me, and a smattering of Krishnan) at the Police Station and got accomodation in a veranda, near a mini-temple of sorts. Then went for dinner, during which none of us drank the extremely suspect water served. Even at the Police Station, there's very little drinking water but enough general water for a bath.

Sleeping now at eleven. Will try to wake up early tomorrow. Let’s see…

Day 14: Madgaon – Kankon

The day the big snooze hit. Krishnan woke up at six and left for the docks, while the rest of us slept on till 9:30am, had breakfast, slept, had lunch and slept again. At 5pm, we set off for Kankon/Chaudi (Canacona). The forested road had low gradients throughout, except for a ghat section that was quite long and steep and we had to dismount. It was dark by now and I had a good night trek through the forest with the half moon directly overhead, only interrupted by the frequent passages of vehicles with their blinding headlights.

We reached Kankon at nine, parked at the Police Station and went to have grub at the local Udupi restaurant. The restaurant was a haltover for tourist buses and prices were on the higher side than elsewhere. At the table next to ours sat a Tamilian who knew only Tamil, and seemed to have some problem with the waiter, who didn’t. We obliged and intervened. The Tamilian spoke with Shyam, who spoke to Madhu who in turn spoke to the waiter in Kannada. A lively conversation ensued. Unfortunately, at the end of it all, our Tamilian discovered that his bus had left without him. We offered to take him ahead on our cycles. 4km down the road, his bus had fortunately stopped for diesel. The Tamilian became so sentimental that he hugged Krishnan and vowed he would never forget us. A lot of his Tamilian friends also alighted and there was general goodwill all around, although few could understand the others’ language.

Estimate of distance covered today: 37km

Day 13: Panaji - Madgaon

We had our breakfast of bread-jam on a bench by the riverside. Good cloudy weather. Reminded me of Pune in the monsoons. Only it is a trifle humid. We cycled by the river to old Goa, where we saw the tourist attractions – the basilica of Bom Jesus and the church of St. Francis d’Assisi. In the latter, an archaeologist – my namesake – was at work restoring the wood carvings. We talked with him to find out that he’s a chemist based at Ajanta. According to him, restoring these paintings is much tougher than the ones at Ajanta, since these are mud based.

From old Goa, we took a winding country road to meet Highway 17 near Goa Vela (not to be confused with Velha Goa or old Goa). This was a beautiful route where the Goan countryside characterized by churches, old houses in the Portuguese style and locals in their distinctive dresses, could be fully appreciated.

On the highway, the common tourist’s perception of Goa – hotels, shops and bars – takes hold. We continued across the river to Cortalim where we had our lunch. We decided to make our night halt at Madgaon (Margao). The thought of Goa’s beaches (which we hadn’t yet experienced) made us leave immediately for Madgaon, via the scenic beach route.


We rested for half an hour at Velsanv beach, then continued southwards to reach Colva beach at five. This is a very long stretch (18km) of seashore. We walked a bit down the beach and saw quite a few foreigners. Sadly, none of the women were topless, as we had hoped! I went off to sleep on the beach to awake just before sunset. Then walked barefoot by the water back to the cycle park. By now the beach had considerably filled up, predominantly with Indians. Maybe we have more rigid views on the time to visit a beach than foreigners do?

We cycled the six km to Madgaon and then searched out Davorlim, where Krishnan’s dad had booked the ONGC guesthouse. The guesthouse turned out to be more like a chummery. We were provided accomodation in a room that someone had left for a few days, and served good grub.

Tomorrow, we plan to wake up late while Krishnan goes and visits relative in Marmagaon dry docks.

Estimate of distance covered today: 70km

Day 12: Vengurla – Panaji

We started at sunrise, full of enthusiasm after an early morning bath. Today’s the day we’re crossing the Maharashtra border into Goa. We followed State Highway 4, which initially was wide and smooth, but later on became kutcha and in desperate need of reconstruction. Highway? I’ve seen country roads in a better state of repair. However, the saving grace in the morning run was that it did pass through forests and the weather was nice and cloudy.


With conditions such as this, I could cycle all day. As we approached the border however, the clouds lifted and sweat started pouring down – very high humidity here. The bridge at Satarda signified the end of Maharashtra and eleven days of glorious cycling in it. We stopped at the middle of the bridge, thinking this over.


Later on, we chatted with the man in charge of the Goa octroi check post who gave us info on Goa. We decided to halt the afternoon at Pedne (Pernem). Had an inexpensive lunch which tasted subtly different from Maharashtrian food. Psychological?

After food, a local directed us onward to a small temple, beside which a mini stream flowed. This stream was dammed and a small pipe served as a perennial tap for the locals to meet all their water requirements. We went to the temple and slept soundly on its cool floor.

At 4:30pm, we started for Panaji (Panjim). A few km from Pedne, we met the national highway which was in marked contrast with the state highway – wide, smooth and low gradients. The only problem was the pollution, and this direct transition from the clean air of coastal Maharashtra was somewhat of a shock. We arrived at Panaji, tired, haggard and extremely dirty and made straight for the police station.

There is a water shortage in the city of Panaji (This was also there the last time I’d visited – about seven years back. Things have not improved!) We waited for municipal water and at 7:30pm had our baths in the police compound. Dinner in the police canteen was the cheapest (Rs10!) so far but reminded us of hostel mess grub.

Since we had scrounged so much on the cash front today, we decided to make it up with dessert. We roamed the streets on foot, clutching ice-creams. Madhu convinced us into heading towards Miramar beach which was “just 15 mins”, but after half an hour there were still 2km left. Ditched and walked back. Sat for some time on a bench by the river. The city was totally dead.

We returned at midnight and slept inside the police station.

Estimate of distance covered today: 105km

Day 11: Devgadh – Vengurla

(Note: The map shown alongside is a more recent one than the one we used. Thus the route described in the writeup might not not match the route drawn on the map)

Marathon ride today. The on-duty policeman at Devgadh woke us up at 4:45am so that we could leave at six towards Malvan. The Devgadh-Malvan distance is 52km, and we surprised ourselves by covering it in four and a half hours. The route was beautiful and passed through forests. We saw two hornbills at close range, on going further at least four more crossed our path. I declared them to be Malabar Pied. Nobody contested.

We stopped and had lassi at Achre (33km) a town full of cool drink and lassi shops. Must be because it is a haltover for private buses (or is it the other way around?) My lassi was frozen and I ate it with a wooden ice-cream spoon. Refreshing experience.

We had an early (and slightly expensive) lunch at Malvan, a large town and tourist spot. After lunch, we drifted towards the beach pier, thinking of getting a boat for Sindhudurg, but gave up on the idea when we reached there. Sleep and the hot overhead sun had caught up with us. We therefore collected our cycles and cycled on a few km to sleep under a tree by the roadside.

We woke up at 4pm and started towards Vengurla, taking the Chowke-Kudal-Math route. Actually Devgadh, Malvan and Vengurla are all on the coast, and there could be a shorter route than the map route we followed. But we neither heard anyone mention such a route, nor did we ask the fishermen or coastal locals, who might have known. The map route is a roundabout one (at times we were even traveling north) but it did have an advantage – it passed through lush green forest. Forest type was mixed evergreen higher up in the hills and moist coastal at lower levels. It was beautiful countryside and no one noticed the kms roll by. We met the Konkan rail at Kudal (30km) and the highway at Math (43km). Kudal is a developing city due to this proximity to transportation and MIDC has already set up a huge park here.

The Kudal-Vengurla ride (23km) was in darkness but the road was smooth, wide and well traveled. This, with the half-moon, ensured that we rarely used our torches and had a tireless ride down the gentle gradient. This was the first time I really enjoyed night cycling, in stark contrast to the ride to Dabhol, when I was glad to see the city.

We reached the Vengurla police station at 9:30pm, dumped our luggage and then started a desperate search for food. The entire city but for the telephone booths seemed to have gone to sleep. Finally found cheap and good grub at Annapurna Bhojnalay. On the way back to the police station from the Bhojnalay, I took a wrong turn and got separated from the group. I then enjoyed a long ride through the dark, cool streets of the sleeping city back to the police station. There is a shortage of water here so no bath. Straight to blissful sleep after a ride of 105km today – all of it enjoyable.

Musings on Development

Is Industrialization really necessary in this region? Actually, it’s hard to say whether industrialization is really necessary in any region. Here (Dhartale) I talked with a local who only corroborated what I’d heard and seen over the last few days. The land here is barren, eroded and rocky. The soil type is red and loamy and ideally suited for fruit cultivation. Orchards are more frequently seen here than farms. Being a non-labour-intensive occupation, this has resulted in lack of work for the non-landed class. It is common to find at least one member of each family in Bombay, doing some small-time job - usually sea-oriented.

Surprisingly, the employment the government has generated by building roads, fish processing centers, etc. has not helped the locals much. Most of the workers here are from neighbouring Karnataka. Is this because, as one guy said, the locals are lazy and inept and prefer easygoing jobs? It might be. Laziness is evident in every aspect of this slow (or maybe peaceful) life, right from the slow, deliberate style of talking to their lack of knowledge about their own region.

Development in a sense is necessary. The number of schools, health facilities and other essential services is really low. But will industrialization help this? The Dabhol Power Company we saw seems to provide well for its employees, but what about other, smaller concerns not visible to the media?

The locals seem opposed to the industrialization path due to the change and instability it will bring in their lives and environment. They seem indifferent to the employment it would generate.

It is tough to predict what the result of industrialization would be. At any rate, the path the Central and State governments have chosen will ensure that a cycle trek a few years hence over our route would enjoy half the countryside we saw and half the boat rides we had. They might also receive half the hospitality we experienced.

Day 10: Dhartale – Devgadh

Despite our best efforts, we woke up late. Set off for Nate, 8km away. Across the creek by ferry is Jaitapur, from where an hour or so of peaceful riding took us to Ansure, Wadi Pangere. Here the ferry had just arrived from Vijaydurg and was scheduled to leave at 2:00pm. It was 11:30am and there was no food around. Hunger led to desperation. After repeatedly pleading with the ferryman, he agreed to take us across in his motorized launch for 80 bucks. It was a half hour ride (the longest so far) down the creek, and extremely enjoyable. We were against the tide, and the boat used to rock while riding the waves. This creek is very wide and long (40km inland) and the only other option is a long ride around it.

Vijaydurg is a land fort at the tip of a northwest pointing peninsula. It is in good shape. Raja Bhoj built this fort, Devgadh, and some others along the coast around 1200AD. Since then, the fort passed through many dynasties including Shivajis, who repeatedly renovated it.

We had our lunch at a hotel at Vijaydurg and left in the afternoon for Devgadh, which was about 30km of tarred road away. En route, we had GKRs at the crossroads at Padel Canteen (what a name!) The stretch of road after the bridge at Jamsande was beautiful. It was the first time I noticed mangroves in a Konkan creek.


At Devgadh, we cycled till the fort - but the light was fading and I couldn’t make out much. The guard at the lighthouse gave us information about shipping and lighthouses in the area.

Devgadh is a town of mangos, fishes and tourists in that order. Devgadh Alphonso mangos are exported the world over. We had inexpensive dinner here, and restarted our initial tradition of sleeping in the police station.

Day 9: Ratnagiri - Dhartale

We left at about 7am with Golu(!), who woke up to escort us up to the city limits. We went to Pavas and onward to Purnagad (23km). On the slope down to Purnagad, Madhu tried to avoid an oncoming Jeep and lost control. He crashed on a rock and burst his front tire. There's no cycle shop at Purnagad, so we found some shade and repaired the burst ourselves.


There is a creek at Purnagad and work on a bridge is under progress. We crossed by ferry. The ferry dropped us 50m from the shore and I carried my cycle through 1.5 feet of water, thinking about the life of marine commandos. I went to the edge of the pier, washed my feet in the water there and sat down waiting for them to dry. By the time I put on my shoes, I found that the incoming tide had inundated the rest of the pier and I was on a mini-island of sorts. The inevitability of shoes getting wet!

Later we asked the site engineer the technicalities involved in the bridge. He was a very helpful chap who offered us tea and took us up to and inside the bridge to explain its intricacies.

By now it was already 1pm. Enquiries revealed no lunch spot here (Gaokhadi), or for a considerable distance. So we prepared Maggi at the local chaiwala.

The villagers of Gaokhadi are a very lazy, suspicious and unhelpful lot. We concluded this from the behaviours of the cyclewallah, the guy who filled our bottles, and even the chaiwallah, who talked conspiratorially about Europeans and oil. Nonplussed, we slept over this, watching out for further strange behaviour from the villagers.

We started at 4:30pm, planning to reach Vijaydurg by nightfall. But it was already dusk by the time we reached the checkpost of Dhartale. The people here were extremely friendly and advised us not to proceed at this time for Nate, if we desired any food or sleep. They said the villagers at and near Nate are not very hospitable to strangers; one person claimed they could even take our water away from us!

Dhartale is not a village but a road junction. It consists of a police check naka, two chai shops and a primary health center (PHC). One chaiwallah agreed to prepare dinner for us. We had our baths by drawing water from a nearby well and spent time chatting with Balu (the chaiwallah), some local characters and Dr Pandit, a fresh MBBS who was on his compulsory year of rural service here.

By talking with a local, I learnt a bit about the people here. According to him, they are a lazy lot and half the populace of any town usually ends up in Bombay, doing some menial job. They preferred that to the harder work involved in the rural areas. In contrast, the hardworking laborers from Karnataka come here for work on the various Government projects, and finally settle down. The local became quite sentimental and introspective while talking. His view was that, finally due to all the development, the Konkan would become highly industrialized like Bombay and it would be hard to find any "original" local. This was due to the selfish and conservative nature of the people, according to him.

The doctor was pleased to see us - guess he doesn't get to interact with too many city-dwellers here in the midst of nowhere. We spent a lot of time during dinner and afterward talking of this and that. At dinner, I had my first taste - in life - of shrimp, which we skimmed off a policeman’s skim off a truckwallah. The doctor revealed that this was the only PHC for 27,000 people (the Government rule is 30,000) and it consisted of two doctors (including him) and three nurses. He showed us around and everything had a new look to it - including the mattresses he gave us – due to funds from WHO and UNICEF. 60 to 70 percent of the cases are of snake and scorpion bite, and antivenin of all kinds is stored in a refrigerator - also new.

The doctor revealed that all the surrounding progress including the tar road is recent, and much more is expected once the Purnagad bridge and the Konkan Railway are completed. Already locals talk knowledgeably of foreign collaborations, central policy and the like.

We slept in the PHC on the new mattresses.

Estimate of distance covered today: 41km

Day 8: Ganpatipule – Ratnagiri

Today, for a change, we woke up really early (at 4:15am!) and set off by 5:30 to try and reach Ratnagiri before it got hot. We took the turning for Nevare. This road, after one or two tedious climbs, is beautiful, easy and short. Even if one does not want to go to Ganpatipule, they should take this road to Ratnagiri and not the direct one from Chaphe. This way, they can save about 6km and also get a great ride through the idyllic countryside. The road passed through forests and orchards containing mango trees full of fruit. Since we were cycling in the early morning, it was not at all hot or tiresome; on the contrary, extremely enjoyable.

We crossed a bridge over a creek en route. I noticed a change in the ways of the fishermen here. Not only did they not have as much shrimp as in Raigad, but they also protected their drying fish from crows and animals by using nets. This was in contrast with say, Dighi, where the people led a carefree fishing life and let anything and everything eat their bountiful catch. Perhaps the sea here does not yield as much as in earlier places.

The city of Ratnagiri is 2km further on from the old town. It is also higher. People routinely say “I am going up” or “I am going down” - origins of uptown and downtown? We reached by 9am and had our breaker opposite the ST stand. We have decided to call it a day and rest with Tushar “Golu” Chavan’s relatives here. We had called from Ganpatipule to say we would be arriving at about 10 and were touched to find Golu’s grandfather waiting for us at the main road at 9:50.

Golu’s relatives are very kind and hospitable and take good care of us. No awkward or discouraging questions about our cycling, as they had paid host to a team from BARC who were walking to Kanyakumari a few years back! Golu’s aunt, Savita Nagvekar, turns out to be a close friend of my departmental prof, Usha Powle. Looks like the IIT hand extends everywhere! Even when I went to encash my travelers cheque at Syndicate Bank, things were speeded up and I was treated courteously when I produced my IIT i-card. The manager instantly started talking in Kannada when he saw my surname.

In the evening, Devajit is ending his cycling and leaving back to Bombay for some “project” of his. The others have gone with Golu to see a fort nearby. I’ve decided to let my body rest and recollect and write the events of the past few days.

Lots of cats around. Two furry kittens too!

Estimate of distance covered today: 32km

Day 7: Hedvi - Ganpatipule

We left Hedvi at 7:30am and followed an up-and-down road till Rohile. Jaigad was visible across the creek from here but there was no boat. We had to take our cycles along the beach to Tavsal for the boat. But this beach stretch is not as idyllic as the one from Murud (II) to Burondi. There were two places where rocks jut into the sea and the cycles had to be carried over them. The second one was more dangerous, as the rocks were slippery and sharp, and the sea beside the rocks was deep and thus unwalkable. We suffered some cuts - I had two major cuts on my forearm and leg, from a fall on the rocks. Afterwards, a kid came running to tell me he’s seen quite a few cyclists en route to Ratnagiri coming from Chiplun, but we were the first to try this route. Actually, at higher tide, this way would be quite impossible – it's best to know the tides beforehand.


At Tavsal, we had breakfast and bought coconuts from a villager who also gave us some jackfruit. At 11am we moved to the jetty where we were picked up by a passing boat.


In this creek, there is no concept of a fixed ferry service between places. Intermittently – but not frequently – a boat comes along to take people wherever they want to go, rather like a bus service. The towns here are built right up to the water’s edge and there is no beach – each house ends directly at the waterfront. One interesting consequence of this is that the boat drops everyone at their house – there are few public jetties as such. This photograph of Parva captures this lifestyle:


The people in the boat were very friendly and helpful. They advised us not to go to Jaigad, but to Saitvade, which is more towards Ratnagiri. With Ratnagiri 57km from here, they told us we might just be able to reach there by night.

On the ferry ride, I got a glimpse of a huge creature that surfaced momentarily. It had a fin on its back and was big enough to be a shark. The boatman didn’t see it but said he knew it existed but was harmless to humans. The Marathi name escapes my memory.

There was no food at Saitvade so we cycled uphill 7km to Khandala and had our lunch there. We left early (3:15pm) for Ratnagiri and the hot afternoon sun with a treeless, barren, rocky landscape really got to us. The entire surface of the hills seems to be a continuous rock and at a few places this has been cut into temple-well type structures to form seasonal or year round wayer tanks.


At Chaphe (13km from Khandala) there is a turn towards Ganpatipule (12km), a temple and beach resort. We decided to spend the night here instead of Ratnagiri, and to try another road to Ratnagiri from there in the morning.

Ganpatipule is a big tourist spot. We got reasonably cheap accomodation at some person’s place. Had expensive dinner near the temple, watched the sun go down and then retired early for the night.

Estimate of distance covered today: 39km

Day 6: Dabhol - Hedvi

Dabhol is synonymous with the infamous Enron power project, but this is actually 4km further on, at Anjanvel. We woke up late, had our breakfast and at 9:30 crossed the creek by motorized ferry. There's a lot of development visible in this largish-sized town. Even the creek is to be converted to a harbor and there are signs of progress in this direction. We climbed till the DPC (Dabhol Power Company) site, where we found heavy security – three police trucks and plenty of security guards. However, we slid inside, playing the IIT card, and were escorted around the site in a Jeep. No photography allowed.

DPC is a huge dry place with large scale construction going on. In 750 acres of land they plan to set up a 2000MW power plant in 3 stages – the first stage of which is to be completed in 1998. The escort gave us fundas about the layout – the main plant, the cooling tower (huge!), the living quarters, etc. Right now the construction is being done by contractors – large companies – and they seem to follow safety precautions. These contractors train and employ locals – now about 3500, but after construction, when the plant is fully functional, the total number of employees will be about a tenth of this. The rest are expected to be absorbed into the various industries (large houses like Tatas, Birlas, Kirloskars) that will then come up nearby.

There is a local resistance to this project and there are banners and posters all the way to Guhagar (7km) and probably beyond. Although, as I mentioned, there are going to be employment opportunities, the townspeople of Dabhol do not want this unpolluted place to go the Bombay way. The discontent is not directly towards DPC (which uses naphtha fuel and not coal), but towards the “progress” it would bring. One local we met on the ferry rued the way the artificial structures there had spoilt the natural beauty of the creek.

It seems once every few days a protest morcha finds its way to the gates of DPC. However, the escort told us the frequency of such morchas has decreased of late.

After visiting the site (but not meeting any of the higher-ups), we cycled in the sun and had lunch at Guhaghar. Really gorged on GKRs at the ST stand – I had 4½ glasses – and then staggered to sleep it off at the beach nearby. Krishnan sauntered off to pay obeisance at one of the numerous temples in town while the others went to play in the sea. I’m sitting in the shade of the grove here (like Akshi beach) and writing this report.


We left Guhagar at 4:15 and headed for Velneshwar. Here the map is confusing. According to this, we projected Ganpatipule by night. But the terrain is really hilly. The map shows Hedvi and then Velneshwar, but we asked around for the boat to Jaigad and got conflicting reports. The last locals we asked at Hedvi told us there was no boat at the time (6:45) and that we had to go to Tavsal (further on from Rohile) tomorrow morning for a boat. We decided to spend the night at Hedvi itself, convinced by a local who told us we might get free food and accomodation at the temple due to a yearly festival.

At Hedvi, we had to pay for accomodation and dinner at a Bhaktinivas (dharmshala) attached to the Ganesh temple, but decided to stay anyways as it was too late, and the sums involved were nominal. The festival turned out to be a “wadi puja” where a group of about 60 huts (wadi) do a yearly puja. We don’t have the nerve to try and gatecrash this.

Day 5: Kelshi - Dabhol

We woke up at 5:15am, but due to packing laziness, finally left at about 7:15. We had a look at a nearby temple and a dargah that Shivaji built. At 8am we had a half-breakfast and then followed a mud route to Uttambar. There we ferried our cycles across the creek to Ada, on an outrigger.



Cycled about 5km to Anjerle. It was a continuation of the same type of mud road, with trees on both sides and nice smells of mango and jackfruit. En route we stopped and had coconuts. The owner himself climbed the tree (without a rope!), plucked and cut open the cocos for us. Really refreshing.

At Anjerle, we took another outrigger across the creek and then finished our breakfast of bread and Milkmaid, sitting by the wharf. It was already noon. 3km to Harnai on a good tar road. This is our noon halt. We rested at the restaurant where we had lunch. The food is getting progressively cheaper, perhaps due to distance from Bombay and the highway.

Harnai is a mini tourist spot, famous for its beach and a sea fort, Suvarnadurg. The place is getting commercialized - even the restaurant owner doesn’t know where the beach is! Harnai is otherwise known for its fish market, where reportedly 25 lakh rupees worth of fish is sold everyday, mostly exported to Kerala(!)

In the afternoon, we spent time at the land part of the fort. People can hire boats (at student-unfriendly rates) to go out to sea for Suvarnadurg. We spotted some interesting fish with circular markings and a lot of time was spent trying to catch them.

Saying goodbye to Harnai at 5pm (late! Damn those fish), we proceeded 4km along the road and took a turn for Murud(II). There’s a temple here. From Murud, we went further seaward until we reached the beach. This was one of the most beautiful rides so far – along the beach to Burondi. The beach has a very gradual slope and there is hard rock very near the surface. This has resulted in a wide stretch that is damp and springy, but the sand does not stick to your tires, nor does it resist it. Beach interspersed with stones and water. I’ve never been to a place like this before. By now it was about an hour before sunset, and clouds were obscuring the sun - time to move on.


Burondi is a medium sized town and well stocked with provisions. We bought milk and bread here and proceeded along the tar road towards Dabhol. Initially a long climb and then the fastest (and safest) descent I’ve made. It was getting dark by the time we started another large ascent. Suddenly the road became untarred, and the descent was spoilt. Uneasy, slow progress towards Panchnadi where the road forks and one road goes to Kolthar. The other one, which we followed, ascends again and gets tarred in the process. We soon reached a kind of uneven plateau. Very little habitation, very little traffic. Total darkness - but the horizon is bright. After about an hour, we took a turn during descent and were suddenly dazzled by all the lights of Dabhol – those of the town, those of the boats and the brightest, of the power plant across the creek. There’s even a lighthouse that sends out a powerful beam. We halted and admired the view.

We were escorted the remaining distance to Dabhol by a truck that lent us its headlights. At Dabhol we had cheap dinner and hired a room at Rs 100 for the night. There’s a bath in the room! But decent accomodation.

Today I really experienced “hugging the coast”. Most of the time, the sea was visible. Since we had rejected the longer inland routes, we had to travel on muddy, sandy or rocky roads most of the time. Some of these stretches remind me of the inner roads near Kodavoor or even in Udupi. There were two ferry rides today to add to the coastline experience.

However, to enjoy all this, one has to repeatedly pester the locals for the ‘shortcut’ or scenic route. Sometimes this is better for cycling, as such roads are along the coast and therefore flatter. This I experienced just after Burondi, when we left the coast and ghats came upon us suddenly. The locals usually tell you the bus route or tarred route, but the knowledgeable fishermen or coastal locals have more fundas. However, ask a lot of people for the same road and you get different answers. Confusing.