INDIA (1) - Part 2
Mumbai - Kanyakumari
3
November 2008 - 17 January 2009
1756 Kilometres - 75 Days
3
November - Cape Town, South Africa – Mumbai, India
My
injuries healed, and I felt strong, well rested and excited to return to India.
Amanda joined the adventure and planned a three-month cycling holiday in India.
My sister had never done any cycle touring was a fussy water, didn’t like camping, and I wondered
how this would all pan out.
4
November – Mumbai
Amanda’s
bike was reassembled in Mumbai, and after taking a test ride she returned with
a broken derailleur. I surmised damage occurred during the flight. I thought this
was a disaster in a town where you practically never saw a bike sporting gears.
The rest of the day was spent scanning the area to find a suitable bike shop
but to no avail.
5
November – Mumbai
Jetlag
eventually caught up with us and it was ten o’clock before raucous crows woke us.
The search to find a new derailleur was on in all earnest and discovered at a
typical Indian bike shop. The quality was suspect, but beggars can’t be
choosers. The entire day was spent running back and forth to the bike shop and,
in the process, we were offered an opportunity as extras in a movie. Amanda is
still mad at me for refusing such an opportunity. Still, I was too stressed
about her bike to consider such an adventure.
6
November - Mumbai
Once
the bike was fixed, we could enjoy Mumbai and do our little walking tour of the
area. A ferry from the gateway of India dropped us at Elephanta Island, featuring
ancient cave temples. Chiselled out of solid rock the Elephanta Caves were
constructed between the mid-5th to 6th centuries AD and
dedicated to Shiva. Archaeological remains reveal evidence of occupation from
as early as the 2nd century BC. Today the caves have UNESCO World Heritage status.
Amanda,
suffering from aquaphobia, was understandably nervous, but she survived the
trip both there and back without entirely losing it.
7
November - Mumbai - Alibag - 20 km
Disaster
struck sooner than expected as Amanda’s chain broke before even rounding the
first corner. Back to the bike shop we went. Once fixed, a ferry took us from
the Gateway of India to Mandwa.
The
trip was a blessing, saving biking through the busy city centre. Amanda must’ve
been a nervous wreck but she handled the boat like a pro. Our adventure began
by riding 20 kilometres to Alibag. The small beach town of Alibag made a perfect
first night stop, where a spot right across from the beach was home that night.
The place was as basic as any African room but had a fantastic sea view. In no
time, we were floating, fully clothed (like the Indian ladies), in the lukewarm
waters of the Arabian sea.
At
sunset, the beach became crowded with families strolling along the coast, enjoying
the cooler temperatures, all giving us a good stare. It looked a rarity seeing
foreign women in Alibag as our actions were observed with great interest. Supper
was from a beachside food stall and, like all food in India, delicious.
8
November - Alibag - Murud - 55 km
Our
first full day of riding started with near disaster as, barely on our way,
Amanda fell off the bike. Nothing serious only a little shaken. The new derailleur
was for a different setup and the gears were not changing smoothly.
Even
though humid, the weather was good, and the scenery sublime as the road took us
along the Konkan Coast. Following 45 kilometres of cycling, Amanda felt weak and
preferred taking a tuk-tuk (auto-rickshaw) to the next village. In Murud, the
idea was to camp on the beach, but the tide was too high, leaving no place to
pitch a tent. While scanning the area for a suitable spot, a fellow cyclist
from Hungary arrived. Together, we uncovered a semi-official camping spot in
someone’s yard.
9
November - Murud - Harihareshwar – 55 km
From
Murud, a five-kilometre cycle took us to Janjira, featuring a magnificent old
fort off the coast, accessed by a 15-minute sail by dhow. Amanda preferred to
wait at the harbour while I explored the fort with its high walls and old
cannons.
From
Janjira, a ferry operated across the river to Dighi, from where the route ran further
south. Feeling nauseous and weak, most likely due to the heat or quality of water,
Amanda later hailed a tuk-tuk.
I
biked along the rough and hilly path to the temple and beach town of Harihareshwar.
In the sweltering heat, the sharp little ups and downs made riding challenging
for a novice, and I thought it a blessing Amanda opted for a ride.
10
November - Harihareshwar - Harnai – 57 km
The
drama continued as shortly beyond Harihareshwar, we boarded a ferry (poor
Amanda’s nerves must’ve been shot by then), all while not feeling well.
Once
across the Savitri river, and upon enquiring, there seemed no shortcut to
Kelshi, as anticipated. Amanda, still unwell, decided to take a ride while I biked
to Kelshi. Once in Kelshi, I could find no sign of Amanda, who should’ve been
there by then. As she didn’t overtake me, I cycled to Harnai, but couldn’t find
her and I thought it best to stay put. Upon finding accommodation, the owner’s
son was kind enough to take me by scooter to see if we could locate my sister. Hardly
out of town, we spotted a rickshaw with a cycle sticking out.
Amanda
indeed found a shortcut to Kelshi, which she took after being unable to locate
a bus. The alternative route involved a ferry crossing and a long walk across
the sand. Amanda feeling dreadful by then, was fortunate to come across Gabor
(the cyclist from Hungary). Together, the two of them found a ride to Harnai.
11
November - Harnai
As
Amanda was unwell, an extra day was spent in Harnai, hoping Amanda could rid
herself of whatever was plaguing her. She thus spent the best part of the day
sleeping and, by evening, felt strong enough to venture out to the fish market.
The market was a jumble of colours and smells as hundreds of boats returned
from a day at sea, and traders eagerly awaited to buy whatever was brought
ashore.
12
November - Harnai - Guhagar – 57 km
The
following morning, Amanda insisted she felt well enough to cycle the 13 kilometres
to Dapoli. From Dapoli public transport ran to Dabhol, where a ferry crossed
the Vashishti River. As expected, she was a novelty on the bus and our arrival in
Dabhol was almost simultaneous.
Once
across the river to Dhopave, a hilly and hot ride took us in the direction of
Guhagar, where luckily, there was an opportunity to camp behind a
house/shop/restaurant, right upon the beach.
You
set yourself up for constant visitors by camping in a public area. The Indians are
a curious nation, and we were peppered with questions. Swimming in the lukewarm
water with the sun setting over the Arabian Sea was an appropriate way to end
the day. The shop owner prepared us a home-cooked thali, and I thought life couldn’t
get any better.
13
November - Guhagar – Ganpatipule – 60 km
There
are few things as pleasant as emerging to the sound of the ocean, and before departing
a home-cooked breakfast appeared. Then, still nauseous, Amanda decided to take
a bus to Ganpatipule and rest before proceeding. She was, once again, a novelty
and photographed from all angles.
I
rode along the uneven and hilly path to Ganpatipule where our arrival was roughly
simultaneous. A misunderstanding led to each booking a room, and that night we each
had a place of our own. Amanda craved ice cream, something she never ate at
home. Following a successful hunt, we tucked into the local cuisine. By then Amanda
claimed everything, including the soda, was masala flavoured.
14
November - Ganpatipule
The
next day was spent in town visiting the Swayambhu Ganpati seaside temple, a
major pilgrimage site that housed a giant orange Ganesh statue. The rest of the
day was spent lounging on the beach, hoping the rest would rid Amanda of her
nausea.
15
November - Ganpatipule - Ratnagiri – 30 km
The
rest did Amanda a world of good. She cycled the entire 30 kilometres to Ratnagiri
without requiring a tuk-tuk. Ratnagiri was the perfect place from where to investigate
historic Kolhapur with its intensely fascinating temple complex.
16
November - Kolhapur
The
bus ride to Kolhapur was a four-hour affair. Kolhapur, situated along the banks
of the river Panchganga, and the eastern side of the Western Ghats, was located
way off the tourist route, something evident judging by the attention our
presence created.
The
town is well known for its interesting temple complex dating to 10AD. Following
a hair-raising bus ride, we wandered around the famous Mahalaxmi Temple in the
presence of hundreds of pilgrims seeking Lakshmi’s blessings. The temple is
dedicated to Lakshmi, the four-armed, gemstone-adorned goddess of good fortune.
The scary bus ride made us opt for a return trip by train instead of an
additional death-defying ride by road.
17
November - Ratnagiri - Nate – 60 km
We
got underway early for the cycle from Ratnagiri to Nate, a ride that included short,
little lung-buster hills. Amanda threatened to flag down a tuk-tuk, but none
was available, and she had no option but to hang in. From time to time, I could
hear her swearing something about another f***ing hill under her breath. Finally,
with rain pouring down and no sign of the ferry across the Vaghotan river, we weakened
at the sight of an abode near the Jate Jetty. My dear sister subsequently claimed
she needed disinfecting.
18
November - Nate – Devgad Beach – 46 km
Our
day started promising along an excellent road sporting English signs which soon
turned into a dirt track. It took us up and down small hills, and as the map
showed no path, I couldn’t work out where we were. Thus, it remained best to
follow the dirt track; in the process, we crossed rivers by ferries of all
shapes and sizes.
Eventually,
our path spat us out at serene Devgad Beach, where pitching a tent was made
easy because the area was a popular picnic spot. Amanda was understandably tired
following such a challenging day and fell asleep after a dip in the ocean. A
lady in the village prepared us a meal she delivered by taxi, still piping hot.
19
November - Devgad Beach - Kunkeshwar – 25 km
Waking
to dolphins playing in the ocean, one could tell the day would be a scorcher. Intending
to pedal to Malvan we packed up, but Amanda found the heat and hills
debilitating. The weather wasn’t only boiling but humid, so one sweated
buckets.
The
first turn-off was towards tiny Kunkeshwar, which provided a fan room. At least
Amanda could’ve a shower and rest under the ceiling fan for the remainder of
the day. In addition, our abode offered an excellent opportunity to do
much-needed housekeeping. Kunkeshwar, a tiny village, consisted solely of a
temple, a few restaurants, and a hotel. The temple was built around 1100 AD and
had a beautiful location on the beach and an excellent place to sit and watch
the sunset. Supper was a plate of good Indian food, our single option; this was,
after all, India.
20
November - Kunkeshwar – Malvan/Tarkarli – 55 km
Our
route headed over more hills following a regular Indian breakfast of curry veg
and bread. The oppressing heat made a sweaty ride, but Amanda had renewed
energy and zoomed past me while I sat under a tree waiting. I didn’t notice her
going past and returned to the previous village to locate her. Two European-looking
women travelling by bicycle stuck out like sore thumbs, and enquiring about her
whereabouts was pretty easy. Villagers reported she’d already gone past, and off
I went, finding her not considerably further, resting under a tree.
Malvan
was reached shortly after lunch, but we continued and midway between Malvan and
Targarli discovered a most idyllic beach. A white sandy beach, palm trees, hammocks,
and lukewarm water made our spot a true paradise. Our “resort” consisted of a property
comprising a single bungalow. The owners were super welcoming and offered to
prepare food. In addition, they provided cold beer accompanied by snacks, which
were enjoyed on the beach while watching the sunset and fishers pulling in
their nets.
21-22
November - Malvan/Tarkarli
So
good was our spot, two full days were spent on the beach as the place was heavenly.
Our days consisted of eating, drinking, walking along the coast, swinging hammocks,
and floating in the ocean. This was a holiday, after all, and not boot camp.
23
November - Malvan – Vengurla Beach – 40 km
As
idyllic as the place was, we loaded up and, four kilometres further, found a
ferry operating across a river. As envisaged, the day was marred by blistering heat
and steep hills. Amanda claimed she had to push her bike up six hills within
twenty-five kilometres, all while mumbling, “This isn’t for me” and “I’m going
to take a bus”. By then I’d heard those statements so many times they rolled from
me like water off a duck’s back and I was sure she would do just fine.
Vengurla
offered lodging, albeit below all standards. Still, we booked in as I feared
Amanda would throw her bike in the ocean if she had to cycle up another hill. Apparently,
the beds were good, as we’d barely set foot in the room before my sister was
fast asleep. After her nap, the time was beer o’clock, and we headed to the
seafront to enjoy the sunset.
24
November - Vengurla – Arambol – 18 km
Seven
kilometres of cycling brought us to our first hill, followed by an excellent descent
to the ferry at Terakol. Once across the river, there remained a further 11 kilometres
to Arambol. Again, Amanda was in top form and not once wanted to throw in the
towel or dump her bike; she didn’t even have her usual nap.
At
first, taken aback by the place due to the masses of tourists and tourist trade,
we soon warmed to laidback Arambol. Touristy Arambol had its upside, as many
restaurants served western food and we could do with a pizza or anything, not masala.
A shack directly behind the beach at Rp 200 suited us fine. Albeit our abode
only had an outside toilet and shower, there were no bed bugs or other biting
things, as so bitten were we by then, it took investing in a can of insect
killer which bared the slogan “laser fast action”.
25-27
November - Arambol
With
our shack made of woven palm leaves, we hoped for clear skies, and as one could
see both in and out, the shack didn’t offer a great deal of privacy. Arambol was
utterly different from the rest of India; one could scarcely believe it was the
same country. Coming from the more conservative countryside, it was surprising to
see ageing foreign men jogging along the water’s edge in no more than a
G-string. Still, this was the beauty of Goa. I loved Goa for its freedom to be
yourself and it was thus home to many alternative minds.
The
beach was a fascinating place where each did their own thing, from morning
exercises to yoga. Even Amanda and I invested in bathing suits. We stayed and
stared, ate, drank and swam until it was time to move along.
28-29
November - Arambol – Anjuna – 30 km
From
Arambol, a short bike ride took us to Anjuna, where Mary’s offered decent digs a
short walk from the beach. So our lazy existence continued, walking along the seashore,
swimming, and eating. At night we frequented the adjacent restaurant, which
showed movies and, hence, was extremely popular.
30
November - Anjuna – Panaji – 20 km
A
shorter ride than expected led into Goa’s capital. Surprisingly, the Portuguese
influence of yesteryear was still clearly visible in the architecture. An old
Portuguese house at Rp300 became home that night. Amanda wasn’t impressed and
was becoming fed up with places not smelling like roses.
Wandering
the streets of Panaji, one could easily imagine being in Portugal instead of
India. Narrow alleys were lined by colourful houses decorated with mosaics and
shells. By evening, Amanda braved the water for a cruise on the river; my
sister is immensely courageous!
1
December – Panaji
Our
day in Panaji was mainly spent finding a suitable derailleur for Amanda’s bike.
Even though there was a Firefox bike shop in Panaji, the derailleur would take ten
days to order. My brand-new iPod, bought in Cape Town, packed up following barely
one day of music pleasure. Luckily, Panaji’s Apple store offered to order a new
one. As the replacement would take a few days, I decided to collect the iPod later.
My laptop was also virus-infected and needed sorting out.
2
December - Panaji – Colva – 36 km
In
the habit of getting underway early to escape the sweltering midday heat, biking
out of Panaji was around 8h00. The traffic along the main road was horrendous and
it was better to turn off onto the coastal route to Colva which made a lovely, stress-free
ride. Once a sleepy fishing village and part of the hippie trail of the ’60s,
Colva had lost most of its hippie vibe but remained a lovely place sporting a great
beach. We uncovered the perfect spot, outside the core tourist area but still on
the beach.
The
rest of the day was spent on the beach (nothing like swimming after a hot bike
ride). By evening and after a quick shower, we returned to the beach for
supper. By evening it started raining, cooling temperatures to near perfection.
3
December - Colva – Agonda – 40 km
The
ride to Agoda became one other “push-up-the-hill” day for Amanda who had her first
flat tyre. Shortly afterwards, the derailleur gave problems again. Even the
smallest roadside repairs brought hordes of helpers. Finally, a ride was
organised to Agonda, where a bike repair shop fixed the problem in no time at
all.
Our
abode was an excellent place on the beach, where we sat chatting to our
neighbours for the remainder of the evening. Low-key Agonda (a generally
seasonal hut village), was one of the better beaches with few tourists, many of
whom were long-term travellers.
4
December - Agonda
Agonda’s
beach was wide, quiet, and picturesque, a perfect place to hang about a few
days. Seeing we were comfortably ensconced, it made a good place from where to visit
famous Hampi, located almost 300 kilometres inland. Once arrangements were made
to leave the bicycles at the guesthouse, a train was booked to Hampi.
5
December - Hampi
An
early morning taxi took us to the train station. A short train ride took us to
Margoa, where sleeper trains departed for the seven-hour journey to Hampi. The
train was a relaxed affair and food was sold at regular intervals. Hampi’s
train station was at Hospet, from where taxis carted people to Hampi leaving enough
time to walk around the village before dark.
6
December - Hampi
Once
the seat of the mighty Vijayanagara Empire, one of the greatest Hindu kingdoms
in the Indian subcontinent, the magnificent ruins of Hampi are today a World
Heritage Site. Legend has it that it was here the goddess Pampa, daughter of
Lord Brahma, impressed Lord Shiva to such an extent with her devotion to him that
he married her. Today, centuries-old relics and ruins seem all over the place.
More
than 1,600 monuments have been identified in Hampi. The surrounding areas vary
from statues, carvings, forts, temples, shrines, mandapas, royal enclosures,
baths, and gateways. An auto-rickshaw (tuk-tuk) made easy sightseeing around
the ruins and left us impressed with the scale of it all. Everywhere one looked
were old ruins, cut into massive boulders surrounding the town. Unfortunately,
the weather has taken its toll, and many boulders were precariously balancing
on the mountainside.
7
December - Hampi
The
following morning, instead of by tuk-tuk, the remainder of Hampi was investigated
by foot. A substantial part of Hampi was situated on the opposite side of the
river. The sole transport across the Tungabhadra river was a traditional round
woven basket by boat (or coracle). Here Amanda put her foot down and plainly refused
to climb into such a precarious craft.
Instead
of crossing the river, a good deal of the day was spent at the Virupaksha
Temple. This 50-metre-high temple gateway remains one of Hampi’s most
identifiable landmarks. The temple was a bustling place still used to worship Lord
Shiva, as it has been for centuries and we thought it an honour to be part of
the masses.
8-10
December - Hampi - Agonda Beach (by train)
All
Hampi-ed out, we hopped on the morning train to Margoa, a seven-hour journey plus
a bus to Agonda. Luckily, our beach shack was still available.
The
next day was spent in typical Goa style, chilling at the beach. Again, it became
clear why many stayed right here and never left.
Nevertheless,
I’d an iPod to collect and hopped on a bus while Amanda stayed behind. The sad
part was I’d a brand-new iPod but no music.
11
December - Agonda – Karwar – 56 km
At
last, we dragged ourselves away from Agonda heading further south, stopping en
route to eat lunch at a 10th of the price in touristy Agonda. Our
path went past Devbagh Beach but we discovered there was no accommodation
except a costly resort. The area was heavenly in its remoteness and, as no
roads led to the resort, it took riding along the beach to reach it. Too
costly, we proceeded to Karwar via a bridge over the Kali River. The process passed
the Sadashivgad fort, predominantly in ruins but blessed with grand vistas.
Amanda,
feeling tired, fell asleep soon after slinking into Karwar. Poor Amanda was
finding cycling in India trying. Being a fussy eater she desperately tried to
locate food without masala, but all to no avail. So her staple diet became
boiled eggs and Coca-Cola!
12
December - Karwar – Gokarna – 40 km
The
pleasant weather made us get going early and we found the way not too hilly.
Amanda felt nauseous, and 10 kilometres before, Gokarna started vomiting. I
felt sorry for her as I knew the feeling all too well. There was nothing to do
but battle on. In Gokarna, the first available place had to do. Luckily, our
abode of choice was a comfortable one at a budget price.
Gokarna
isn’t only a small but sacred pilgrim spot but attracts a low-key, chilled-out
beach holiday crowd. This combination makes an enjoyable stay.
The
main temple is dedicated to Lord Shiva. The temple houses what is believed to
be an original image of Lord Shiva’s linga (lingam or atmalinga). The temple is
one of the seven most important Hindu pilgrimage centres, explaining the many
pilgrims.
13-15
December - Gokarna - Om Beach – 6 km
A
short but extremely hilly six-kilometre bike ride took us to Om Beach, a small
beach tucked away behind cliffs. The place was swarming with backpackers for
obvious reasons - beautiful beaches and good food. The many guesthouses made
staying effortless, and we booked into Namaste guesthouse.
16
December - Om Beach – Murudeshwar – 60 km
The
previous night a boat was organised to take us across the estuary instead of biking
the six kilometres over the hill and then a further 10 kilometres to the main
road. At 9 a.m. sharp, our boatman was waiting. Amanda had a panic attack, mercifully
stopping short of jumping overboard. At the opposite side, a small wave lifted
the boat’s rear end, at which Amanda let out a yell and threw herself, face
down, onto the deck. The boatman (understandably) was astonished. Finally, we
were safely off the boat and our feet firmly upon terra firma.
A
sandy path proceeded to Murudeshwar where a gigantic Shiva statue atop a little
hill dominated the village. Murudeshwar was out of the tourist area, and swimming
became fully clothed. An inexpensive hotel left enough money to enjoy supper at
an upmarket resort allowing my dear sister a meal without masala.
17
December - Murudeshwar – Marawanthe – 57 km
Even
though we encountered plenty of beaches, none had any accommodation and lodging
across the road from Marawanthe beach came at the perfect time. Unfortunately,
the electricity kept cutting out, and resembled a homemade electrical job. Still,
the owner was super helpful and offered to fetch us food from a nearby
restaurant, which was delicious.
18
December - Marawanthe – Udupi -57 km
Breakfast
came 10 kilometres outside Marawanthe and consisted of Puri (curry puffs). Albeit
no hills were encountered, the traffic remained hectic, especially when adding
roadworks to the chaos, making a nerve-wracking cycle. Still, our arrival in the
holy town of Udupi, famed for its Krishna Temple, was reasonably early, leaving
plenty of time to wander around these historic temples, believed to have existed
for over 1500 years. We were lucky enough to catch a drama/musical in the
process and wondered if the shows were a daily occurrence.
19–22
December - Udupi – Mangalore (Mangalura) – 60 km
By
following the highway to Mangalore (not the same connotation to “highway” as most
are used to), the traffic was, as they say in India, “very congested and ol’”.
All one could do was hope for the best. We’d to dive out the way to avoid
traffic which overtook disregarding oncoming vehicles. Amanda claimed she
wasn’t cycling any further and was taking a bus but always got back on the
bike. Ultimately, we crawled into Mangalore safely, albeit in horrendous traffic
and following a wrong turn at one of the intersections.
The
next day was spent exploring the city which, due to the lack of important
temples (hectic as it turned out), had an “off the beaten path” feel.
Ernest
sent a message stating he wasn’t far away and was going like the clappers to
catch us as he was entirely out of money. I knew this wasn’t a good idea but
sympathy made Amanda and I stay an extra night to let him catch up.
Ernest
arrived a tad worse for wear, dirty, sweaty and minus a few kgs. Unfortunately,
he was completely broke, and pitying him we invited him to share our space. We
even had a cold beer ready, though he was disappointed we only bought him one.
Our
lives weren’t our own anymore, and as Ernest wanted to rest and watch cricket,
we did nothing the following day but lay around while our guest watched TV.
23
December – Mangalore, Karnataka - Kappil Beach, Kerela – 64 km
The
rest must’ve done Amanda good as she was strong as an ox, and good time was
made. The route was relatively flat and the weather pleasant. However, disaster
struck, as Ernest’s front tyre was so smooth the tyre wore right through,
causing yet another puncture. A few tuk-tuk trips back and forth to the village
followed. With a new tyre fitted, we set out to Kappil Beach. Camping was at a
secluded beach under palm trees, where Ernest cooked the ingredients Amanda and
I’d bought earlier.
24
December - Kappil Beach – Bekal – 6 km
The
day’s first stop was to inspect the 300-year-old Bekal Fort, one of only a few
built as purely a defence. Soon afterwards, a beach resort was spotted. Even
though we’d just biked six kilometres, it didn’t take much convincing before deciding
to stay put. The high price included three meals, and the staff allowed Ernest to
squeeze in. The setup consisted of luxury-tented accommodation, an en-suite
bathroom, and a glorious view of the setting sun, ocean and swaying palms.
The
entire day was spent swimming, lying in hammocks and doing little except laundry,
of course.
25
December - Bekal – Payyanur – 43 km
Feeling
lazy and following a good breakfast, our coastal path ran further along the
Konkan coast while observing the famous backwaters and houseboats. Somehow, we
missed the turn, and took digs in Payyanur along the Perumba Riverbanks, home
to several well-known astrologers. But unfortunately, it was Christmas Day and we
couldn’t locate any.
26
December - Payyanur – Kannur – 52 km
Our
late departure was due to Ernest needing a bike shop. Once underway, and what has
become our habit by then, brunch was 20 kilometres beyond Payyanur. The
greatest part of the day’s distance was done trying to find the beach. Eventually,
the beach was located, but we settled for the Savoy Hotel (which didn’t live up
to its name but was comfortable enough). By then, finding a place to overnight
became more difficult as a three-bed room was required. Ernest had no money (or
so he claimed), and our meagre daily budget had to accommodate three people and
his bicycle spares. Supper was at a diner and, as usual in the smaller towns, a
power failure brought out the candles, lending a romantic vibe to our already excellent
but inexpensive meal.
27
December - Kannur – Payyoli – 64 km
The
Kerela coast was flat, the weather pleasant, and the going thus significantly more
manageable as the route led past palm-fringed beaches and the 16th-century
St. Angelo Fort.
Locating
an idyllic beach, the tents were pitched resulting in a peaceful afternoon. As
our camp was near a sizable village, we’d a horde of spectators, watching
keenly from the moment the three of us arrived. The word must’ve spread as soon
more came. Once Ernest lit the stove to start cooking, the women watched in
amazement. The MSR stove could’ve been Apollo 11 due to the attention it
received.
28
December - Payyoli – Calicut – 48 km
This
wasn’t Amanda’s day, as she was sick shortly after breakfast and was nearly
knocked down by a bus. Soon afterwards, she dropped her camera bag, which
almost got flattened. A miracle, Ernest retrieved it from the traffic. There
was, however, no rest for the wicked, and we pedalled to Calicut. Our hunt to
find an abode was further complicated due to the seasonal holidays. Eventually,
a guesthouse with four beds was uncovered. The remainder of the day was spent doing
the usual chores.
29
December - Calicut
Getting
underway shortly at 8h30, we discovered the traffic already heavy. Ernest returned
to shop in town, and I wondered what he bought as so reckless was he a truck squashed
him against a stationary bus. He escaped with barely any injuries, but the
truck drove over his wheel, destroying the rim. Eventually, all had to return
to Calicut to allow Ernest the necessary repair work. The trip was becoming a
costly one.
30–31
December - Calicut - NC Gardens Beach Resort – 24 km
Our
early departure was due to our desire to beat the traffic. Ten kilometres
further, a smaller path took us along the ocean. Hardly underway, Amanda
spotted a resort. We pulled in but thought the price slightly touristy. A plan
was made, and the staff offered us a tiny spot (plus a mattress for Ernest) at
half the rate. Staying two nights came easy - the place was magnificent, right
on the beach with loads of palm trees, and it was New Year’s Eve, after all.
1
January - NC Gardens Beach Resort – Chavakkad – 72 km
Amanda
felt energetic and we settled into a good rhythm, stopping twenty kilometres
later to have our regular roadside breakfast. I was immensely impressed with my
sister gaining fitness and we pushed onwards to the highway town of Chavakkad. Only
once did I hear her swear under her breath as her bike zigzagged through the
loose sand and then veered towards the bushes. Soon afterwards came another
ferry crossing, water phobia and all, she pushed her bike on without saying a
word. How brave is this woman!
2
January - Chavakkad - Cherai Beach – 64 km
Along
a smooth road we made our way to Cherai Beach, which turned out closer than
anticipated. Cherai Beach, situated on Vypin island, was one of the most
popular along that stretch of coast. Its popularity is reflected in the room
rates. Eventually, a hotel that could accommodate three was uncovered.
The
beach was packed with holidaymakers, mainly Indian families. In India swimming
in a bathing suit was a pretty daring thing. Even if Amanda and I walked far down
the beach to have our swim, spectators (cell phone camera in hand) appeared in
no time. By then, our pictures must’ve been on half the phones in India. I’ve
to add that I wasn’t looking particularly good, bed bug eaten and half bald. As
my hair was falling out at an alarming rate I was shocked at how little hair I had
left.
3
January - Cherai Beach - Fort Kochi – 28 km
Cherai
Beach was a cool spot to hang out, but the accommodation was a tad pricy and
best to move along. A short and enjoyable ride ran to Kochi, with the Arabian
Sea to our right and the Kerala backwaters on the left. A short ferry ride
brought us to Fort Kochi island. Kochi had a relaxed feel and our early arrival
gave us plenty of time to wander around and watch the famous Chinese fishing nets
in action - contraptions resembling spider webs repeatedly dipped into the
water at high tide.
We
were lucky enough to catch a Kathakali show, storytelling through drama, music,
dancing, and hand gestures. The costumes, make-up, and headgear were
extraordinary, and I believe it takes anything from an hour upwards to
complete.
4
January - Kochi – Alleppey – 66 km
A
ferry ride took pedestrians to Ernakulam, Kochi’s twin city. Being Sunday, the
traffic wasn’t too severe and getting through town was no problem. Our route passed
the familiar sights of palm trees, temples, and shrines until Alleppey, known
as the Venice of the East. The area is famous for backwater cruising and
houseboats, and we stayed to find info regarding a trip along this favourite 900-kilometre
network of waterways. Our establishment was inexpensive, and one couldn’t expect
a great deal at the price, but the bedding was clean.
5
January - Alleppey
We
discovered a public ferry-taxis operated to Kottayam along the backwater. Amanda
and I took this option, which gave us an interesting insight into this watery
world. The ferry stopped numerous times to pick up and drop off people. We
cruised past tiny hamlets, rice fields and palm trees where boats were still
the main form of transport as it has been for centuries. We’d had almost an
hour and a half to walk around Kottayam before boarding the ferry for the
return trip, a three-hour ride, all at a few rupees.
6
January - Alleppey - Kollam - By ferry
Instead
of doing a houseboat cruise, Amanda and I decided to take the State ferry south
along the backwaters to Kollam, while Ernest preferred to cycle. What a picturesque
and leisurely way to get to the next town. The boat took the entire day and stopped
once for lunch and once for tea. Again, we saw many villages with villagers
going about their daily tasks. These waters are used extensively by the people
living in the area, not merely for bathing but laundry, dishes, and fishing.
Fishing seemed the general activity, and the methods varied from Chinese
fishing to hand nets. The boat arrived in Kollam at six-thirty where we found Ernest
busy preparing food.
7-8
January - Kollam – Varkala – 36 km
From
Kollam a leisurely ride ran to Varkala, 36 kilometres away. Once in Varkala, the
regular search to locate inexpensive digs followed and we luckily unearthed what
we were looking for. The following day was spent in Varkala, allowing time to
do the usual rest-day laundry and internet activities.
9
January - Varkala - Kovalam – 59 km
The
route to Kovalam followed a coastal path through numerous settlements, which
meant our way came with a ferry across one of the many river mouths. The boat
was a little wooden affair resembling a dug-out canoe, which two crew members
propelled with long poles. Amanda was nervous about this arrangement until I
pointed out the water was barely more than waist-deep. Still, she clung on with
knuckles white until reaching the opposite bank.
The
last 20 kilometres were along the main road, bypassing the capital city of
Kerela, Trivandrum (an abbreviation as most can’t pronounce the proper name). At
Kovalam Beach and after locating suitable digs with three beds, Amanda and I
headed towards the beach to have a swim, snacks, and beer. By evening, we
splashed out and had a meal at one of the beachfront restaurants.
10
January - Kovalam – Takkalai – 54 km
The
day turned out reasonably hot, past villages engaged in festivals complete with
music and flags. What an interesting place India is. Our route followed the
Western Ghats. Upon spotting serious-looking mountains in the distance, we
nervously wondered whether our road would cross them. It made an exceptionally
scenic ride though, and in the end, the hills tapered off, thus no need to bike
over any mountains.
11-12
January - Takkalai - Kanyakumari – 36 km
With
the ride from Takkalai to Kanyakumari done, Amanda reached her destination. She
was quite pleased with herself, and rightly so, reaching her goal and India’s
most southerly point. Kanyakumari was where three oceans met, the Indian Ocean,
the Bay of Bengal and the Arabian Sea.
Ernest
stripped Amanda’s bike to hunt for usable parts, replacing it with his old and
worn components. It must’ve cost her a fortune to fix the bicycle once home. By
evening, we had a meal at one of the better hotels as a farewell meal.
13-17
January - Kanyakumari - Chennai - by train
On
the afternoon of the 13th, Amanda and I took the train to Chennai,
where she was to fly home. The train pulled into Chennai early in the morning
of the 14th, where we packed Amanda’s bike and organised her stuff
for her flight to South Africa. Then, with my sister gone, I caught a train for
the return trip to Kanyakumari.
