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.