INDIA (1) - Part 2
Mumbai - Kanyakumari
3
November 2008 - 17 January 2009
1756 Kilometres - 75 Days
INDIA
(1) - PART 2
INDIA’S
KONKAN COAST WITH AMANDA
MUMBAI
TO KANYAKUMARI
3
185 km – 75 Days
3
November 2008 - 17 January 2009
3
November - Cape Town, South Africa – Mumbai, India
Two
weeks after arriving in South Africa, I once again felt mentally and physically
strong, well-rested, and excited to return to India. My sister Amanda decided
to join me on this adventure, and we planned a three-month cycling holiday in
India. Until now, Amanda had neither tried cycle touring nor participated in
any substantial exercise. She was also a picky eater and disliked camping. I
couldn’t help but wonder how all of this would play out.
4
November – Mumbai
After
Amanda's bike was reassembled, her first test ride ended in disappointment as
she returned with a broken derailleur. My heart sank as I inspected the damage,
harbouring a strong suspicion that it had occurred during the flight. It felt
like a catastrophic setback in a town where bicycles with gears were rare.
Undeterred, we embarked on a quest, wandering through the crowded streets and
vibrant marketplaces, searching for a bike shop that could help. Despite our
determined search, we couldn’t find a solution, leaving us both drained and
demoralized.
5
November – Mumbai
Exhausted
from jet lag, we were jolted awake well past ten o’clock by the raucous cries
of crows shattering the tranquillity. Bleary-eyed and with a sense of urgency,
we embarked on our quest for a new derailleur, diving deep into the chaos of a
traditional Indian bike shop. Although the quality of the parts was far from
reassuring, we reminded ourselves that beggars can't be choosers in a foreign
land.
The
day unfolded in a whirlwind of activity, as we darted back and forth between
the shop and our temporary home, each trip marked by our rising desperation to
solve Amanda's cycling crisis. Along the way, we received an unexpected
invitation to step into the limelight as extras in a local film. Amanda's
disappointment was palpable when I declined the offer. My thoughts were
consumed by worry over her bike, leaving no space for thoughts of cinematic
adventures.
6
November - Mumbai
Eventually
the bike was fixed and we set out to immerse ourselves in the heart of Mumbai,
eager to wander through the enchanting old quarter.
Our
adventures took us to the iconic Gateway of India, where we boarded a ferry for
Elephanta Island. The Elephanta Caves, with its ancient temples, hewn from
solid rock between the 5th and 6th centuries AD, are dedicated to the deity
Shiva. With archaeological evidence dating back to the 2nd century BC, the
caves boast striking artistry and hold UNESCO World Heritage status—a testament
to their historical significance.
Despite
her struggle with aquaphobia, Amanda faced her fears and managed the boat ride
to the island and back.
7
November - Mumbai - Alibag - 20 km
Disaster
again struck sooner than expected when Amanda's bike chain broke before we even
rounded the first corner. We returned to the bike shop to get it fixed, and
then took a ferry from the Gateway of India to Mandwa.
The
trip was a blessing, saving us from biking through the busy city centre.
Despite being nervous, Amanda handled the boat like a pro. Our adventure began
with a twenty-kilometre ride to Alibag, a small beach town. It made for an ideal
first-night stop, with overnight accommodation conveniently located right
across from the beach. The place was basic, but it had a fantastic sea view.
We
wasted no time and swam in the lukewarm waters of the Arabian Sea, fully
clothed like the Indian ladies. At sunset, the beach became crowded with
families strolling along the sand, enjoying the cooler temperatures and giving
us curious looks. Foreign women in Alibag seemed a rarity, as our every move were
observed with great curiosity. Supper was from a beachside street vendor and,
like all food in India, it was delicious.
8
November - Alibag - Murud - 55 km
Our
first full day of riding started with near disaster as we were barely on our
way and Amanda fell off the bike. Luckily, she was uninjured although a little
shaken. The new derailleur was for a different setup, causing the gears not to
change smoothly.
Despite
the humid weather, the day was good, and the scenery along the Konkan Coast was
beautiful. After cycling forty-five kilometres, Amanda felt weak and chose to
take a tuk-tuk (auto-rickshaw) to the next village.
In
Murud, we planned to camp on the beach, but the high tide made it impossible to
pitch a tent. While looking for a suitable spot, a fellow cyclist from Hungary
joined us. Together, we found a semi-official camping spot in someone's yard.
9
November - Murud - Harihareshwar – 55 km
From
the coastal village of Murud, a five-kilometre bicycle ride led us to the
historic Janjira Fort, a spectacular fortress perched on a small island just
off the coast. To reach it, I took a delightful 15-minute sail on a traditional
dhow. While I eagerly explored the fort's imposing high walls and the remnants
of its old cannons, Amanda found a cosy spot at the harbour, choosing to relax
and soak in the views.
Back
on the mainland at Janjira, we hopped on a ferry that took us across the river
to Dighi, where our route extended further south. Feeling unwell from the
sweltering heat and possibly the water , Amanda decided to hail a tuk-tuk for some
much-needed respite.
Meanwhile,
I continued biking along a rugged and hilly path that led to the temple and
beach town of Harihareshwar. The scorching heat made the sharp climbs
particularly challenging for a novice, and I couldn't help but feel a sense of
relief that Amanda had chosen to take a ride in the tuk-tuk.
10
November - Harihareshwar - Harnai – 57 km
From
our overnight accommodation in Harihareshwar, we boarded a ferry, with Amanda's
nerves clearly hanging by a thread. Once across the Savitri River, it became
evident that there was no shortcut to Kelshi, and Amanda made the call to take
a bus while I opted to bike.
Arriving
in Kelshi, I searched frantically for Amanda, but she was nowhere to be found. She
couldn’t have overtaken me, so I decided to cycle on to Harnai but she wasn’t
there either. With no other option, I chose to stay put.
After
securing accommodation, I was grateful when the owner’s son offered to take me
on his scooter to scour the area for my sister. Hardly out of town, fortune
finally smiled upon us as we spotted a rickshaw carrying a bicycle.
To
my astonishment, Amanda had indeed discovered a shortcut to Kelshi, after an
unsuccessful search for a bus. Her path included a ferry crossing and an
arduous trek across the sandy expanse. She had a stroke of luck when she
crossed paths with Gabor, a cyclist from Hungary. United by circumstance, they
made their way to Harnai.
11
November - Harnai
As
Amanda battled her illness, we decided to linger an extra day in Harnai, hoping
she could shake off whatever had taken hold of her. She stayed in bed for the
best part of the day, gradually regaining her strength. By evening, a spark of
energy returned, and we set off to explore the vibrant fish market.
Stepping
into the market was a riot of colours and smells. The excitement was palpable
as countless boats returned from their day at sea, their hulls brimming with
the day’s catch. Traders bustled about, ready to barter and trade for the fresh
bounty of the ocean.
12
November - Harnai - Guhagar – 57 km
The
following morning, Amanda declared that she felt strong enough to tackle the
13-kilometre journey to Dapoli. Upon reaching Dapoli, she hopped onto a bus,
where she became an instant point of curiosity among the locals. I crossed the
Vashishti River by ferry, and we arrived in Dabhoi almost simultaneously.
Once
across the river to Dhopave, we pedalled along a hot and hilly road to Guhagar,
where the salty breeze of the Arabian Sea filled the air.
To
our delight, we stumbled upon a charming spot behind a quaint house that
doubled as a shop and a restaurant. The rhythmic sound of the waves created a
serene ambience, inviting us to set up camp. With the promise of a night under
the stars, we eagerly pitched our tents, ready to embrace the beauty of the
coastal paradise that surrounded us.
Camping
in a public area sets you up for constant visitors. The Indians are a curious
nation, and we were peppered with questions. Swimming in the lukewarm waters as
the sun set over the Arabian Sea felt like the perfect way to end the day. The shop
owner prepared a delicious home-cooked thali, and I thought life couldn’t get any
better.
13
November - Guhagar – Ganpatipule – 60 km
Few
things rival the joy of waking to the sound of the ocean, and before departing we
were treated by a home-cooked breakfast. Then, still nauseous, Amanda decided
to take a bus to Ganpatipule and rest before proceeding. Once again, she was 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,
who rarely eats ice cream at home, suddenly craved it—a curious effect of a few
days spent cycling. After a successful search, we tucked into the local cuisine.
By then, Amanda claimed everything, including the soda, was masala-flavoured.
14
November – Ganpatipule
We
remained in the coastal town of Ganpatipule, where we dedicated our day to
exploring the remarkable Swayambhu Ganpati temple. This revered site, known for
its stunning seaside vistas, features a massive statue of Lord Ganesh, gleaming
in a vibrant shade of orange. The temple, thrumming with the energy of
pilgrims, provided a serene yet lively atmosphere as devotees offered prayers
and sought blessings.
Afterwards,
we shifted gears and spent the rest of the day lounging about. We hoped that
this time by the sea would help alleviate Amanda's 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 explore
historic Kolhapur with its intensely fascinating temple complex.
16
November –Kolhapur visit
The
four-hour bus ride to Kolhapur was a hair-raising affair. Upon our arrival, we
immediately set off to explore the renowned Mahalaxmi Temple, a magnificent
structure surrounded by hundreds of devoted pilgrims, all seeking the blessings
of Lakshmi, the goddess of wealth and prosperity.
Nestled
along the serene banks of the river Panchganga and cradled by the majestic
Eastern Ghats, Kolhapur felt like a hidden gem, far removed from the usual
tourist paths. The town's rich history came to life as we marvelled at the
ancient temple complex, dating back to 10 AD. The temple, dedicated to the
revered four-armed goddess adorned with glimmering gemstones, radiated an aura
of sacredness and reverence.
In
light of the harrowing bus journey, we had endured, we eagerly opted for a more
tranquil return by train.
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. Occasionally, I could hear
her swearing 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 later insisted she
needed to disinfect herself.
18
November - Nate – Devgad Beach – 46 km
Our
day started promisingly, and we rode along an excellent road sporting English signage,
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, and in the process, we crossed rivers by ferries
of all shapes and sizes.
Eventually,
our path led us to serene Devgad Beach, where pitching a tent was easy because
the area was a popular picnic spot. Amanda was understandably tired after such
a challenging day and fell asleep after a dip in the ocean. A woman from the village
prepared a meal and had it delivered to us 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. We
intended to pedal to Malvan, but Amanda found the heat and hills debilitating. The
weather wasn’t only boiling but humid too, so one sweated buckets.
The
first turn-off was towards tiny Kunkeshwar, which provided a room with a fan.
At least Amanda could shower and rest under the ceiling fan for the rest 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. Built around 1100 AD, the temple boasted a beautiful beach-front location,
making it an ideal place to watch the sunset. Our supper was a plate of good
Indian food, our single option—this was, after all, India.
20
November - Kunkeshwar – Malvan/Tarkarli – 55 km
By
morning, our route headed over more hills following a regular Indian curry vegetable
and bread breakfast. The oppressing heat made it a sweaty ride but, with
renewed energy, Amanda zoomed past me while I sat under a tree waiting. I didn’t
notice her, so I returned to the previous settlement 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 had already gone
past, and I found her not much further, resting under a tree.
We
reached Malvan shortly after lunch, but continued our journey and discovered a
most idyllic beach midway between Malvan and Tarkarli. A white sandy beach,
palm trees, hammocks, and lukewarm water made our spot a true paradise. Our “resort”
consisted of a property with a single bungalow. The owners were super welcoming
and offered to prepare food. In addition, they provided cold beer accompanied
by snacks, which we enjoyed on the beach while watching the sunset and fisherman
pulling in their nets.
21-22
November - Malvan/Tarkarli
So
good was our spot, we spent two full days on the heavenly beach. We ate, drank,
trundled along the coast, swung in hammocks, and floated 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, and kept mumbling, “This isn’t for me” and “I’m going
to take a bus”. By then, I had 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 our standards. Still, we booked in because 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 barely set foot in the room before
my sister was fast asleep. After her nap, it 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. But, again, Amanda was in top form and never 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 IR 200 suited us fine. Although our abode
only had an outside toilet and shower, there were no bed bugs or other biting
things. By then, we were so bitten and invested in a can of insect killer,
which bared the slogan “laser fast action”.
25-27
November - Arambol
As our
shack was made of woven palm leaves, we hoped for clear skies. One could see
both in and out of the shack and it 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 everyone went about their own business,
from morning exercises to yoga. Amanda and I even invested in bathing suits. We
stayed and stared, ate, drank, and swam until it was time to move on.
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 amble 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 was extremely popular.
30
November - Anjuna – Panaji – 20 km
A
shorter than expected ride 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 became
fed up with places that did not smell 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 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 we veered off onto the coastal route, which made for a lovely, stress-free
ride.
Once
a sleepy fishing community, 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. Finally, we found the perfect spot outside the core tourist area but
still on the beach.
The
rest of the day was spent on the beach (there's nothing like swimming after a
hot bike ride). 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 another “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 spot on the beach, where we sat chatting with our
neighbours for 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 stretched wide and inviting, framed by lush palm trees and soft golden
sand, creating a serene and picturesque escape that felt like paradise. It was
an ideal spot for a few restful days of relaxation. As we settled into the
tranquil atmosphere, we found it to be a perfect base from which to explore the
renowned ancient ruins of Hampi, located nearly 300 kilometres inland. With our
bicycles securely housed at the guesthouse, we finalised our arrangements and
booked a train to this UNESCO World Heritage Site.
5
December - Hampi
An
early morning taxi took us to the train station, and 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, where taxis carted people to Hampi, leaving enough
time to inspect Hampi before darkness fell.
6
December - Hampi
Once
the seat of the mighty Vijayanagara Empire, one of the most significant Hindu
kingdoms in the Indian subcontinent, the magnificent ruins of Hampi are today a
World Heritage Site. Legend has it that it was here that 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 are
scattered everywhere.
More
than 1,600 monuments have been identified in Hampi. The surrounding areas include
statues, carvings, forts, temples, shrines, mandapas, royal enclosures, baths,
and gateways. An auto-rickshaw (tuk-tuk) made for easy sightseeing around the
ruins, which impressed us with its scale. Everywhere one looked, old ruins were
cut into massive boulders surrounding the town. Unfortunately, the weather has
taken its toll, and many boulders are precariously balancing on the
mountainside.
7
December - Hampi
The
following morning, instead of by tuk-tuk, the remainder of Hampi was investigated
on 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 (or coracle). Amanda put her foot down and refused to climb into
such a precarious craft.
Instead
of crossing the river, we spent most of the day 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)
We
were all Hampi-ed out and 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 Goan style—chilling at the beach. It became clear
why many stayed here and never left.
Nevertheless,
I had an iPod to collect, so I hopped on a bus while Amanda stayed behind. The
sad part was that I had a brand-new iPod but no music.
11
December - Agonda – Karwar – 56 km
Finally,
we mustered the energy to leave Agonda, eagerly heading south to experience the
rest of Goa. On our way, we made a stop for lunch at a quaint little eatery,
where the prices were a fraction of what we had encountered in touristy Agonda.
As
we continued on our route, we passed stunning Devbagh Beach, a hidden gem that
beckoned us with its untouched beauty. Unfortunately, our accommodation search
yielded nothing but a lavish resort far beyond our budget. The surrounding area
felt like paradise, its remoteness adding to the allure. With no roads leading
to the resort, we found ourselves riding along the soft sands of the beach.
Ultimately, we decided to keep moving and crossed the bridge over the vibrant
Kali River, making our way to Karwar.
As
we arrived in Karwar, Amanda, exhausted from the day’s ride, quickly succumbed
to sleep as soon as we settled in. She was struggling with the rigours of
cycling in India. Being a selective eater, Amanda found it nearly impossible to
find meals that suited her taste. In an attempt to steer clear of the
ever-present masala, her diet came down to boiled eggs and Coca-Cola.
12
December - Karwar – Gokarna – 40 km
The
pleasant weather made for an early start, but 10 kilometres before reaching
Gokarna, Amanda succumbed to vomiting. My heart ached for her as I knew that
feeling all too well. With no choice but to push through the discomfort, we
finally arrived in Gokarna. We found a cosy haven that fit our budget
perfectly, providing a comforting respite after the ordeal.
Gokarna
is not just a sacred pilgrim destination, it also draws a low-key, laid-back
beach crowd that adds to its charm.
At
the heart of Gokarna lies its main temple, dedicated to Lord Shiva. It proudly
houses what devotees believe to be the original Atma Linga—the very essence of
Lord Shiva. Recognized as one of the seven most sacred Hindu pilgrimage sites,
the temple buzzes with spiritual fervour, drawing countless pilgrims who embark
on this sacred journey. The blend of spirituality and tranquillity in Gokarna
makes it a truly unforgettable experience.
13-15
December - Gokarna - Om Beach – 6 km
We
took a short but extremely hilly six-kilometre bike ride to Om Beach, a small
cove nestled behind cliffs. The beach was bustling with backpackers, and it's
easy to see why—its beautiful scenery and delicious food attract many visitors.
There were numerous guesthouses, making it easy to find accommodation, and we
decided to book a room at Namaste Guesthouse.
16
December - Om Beach – Murudeshwar – 60 km
The
previous night, a boat was prearranged to take us across the estuary instead of
us 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. On the opposite side, a
small wave lifted the boat’s rear, at which Amanda yelled and threw herself,
face down, onto the deck. The boatman (understandably) was astonished. Finally,
we were safely off the boat with 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 off the tourist trail, and swimming
meant staying fully clothed. An inexpensive hotel left us with enough money to
enjoy supper at an upmarket resort, allowing my dear sister to have a meal
without masala.
17
December - Murudeshwar – Marawanthe – 57 km
Despite
the fact that we explored numerous stunning beaches, we found ourselves without
any accommodation. Unintentionally, we stumbled upon a charming lodging option
right across the road from Marawanthe Beach. It felt like a serendipitous
moment. Unfortunately, our stay was marred by frequent power outages, which
hinted at a rather makeshift electrical system. Nevertheless, the owner was
super friendly and eager to ensure we were well-fed. He generously offered to
bring us a meal from a nearby restaurant. When the food arrived, it was nothing
short of delicious, adding a comforting touch to our stay despite the
inconveniences.
18
December - Marawanthe – Udupi - 57 km
Breakfast
came 10 kilometres outside Marawanthe and consisted of Puri (curry puffs). Although
we encountered no hills, the traffic remained hectic, with roadworks adding to
the chaos, creating a nerve-wracking cycle.
Still,
our arrival in the holy town of Udupi, famed for its Krishna Temple, was reasonably
early, leaving us with 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 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 oll”.
All one could do was hope for the best. We had to dive out of the way to avoid
traffic that 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 safely crawled into Mangalore, 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 (which turned out to be hectic), 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 kilograms. Unfortunately,
he was completely broke, and we pitied him, so 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 have done Amanda good, as she was strong as an ox, and we made good
time. The route was relatively flat, and the weather was pleasant.
However,
disaster struck, as Ernest’s front tyre was so smooth that it wore right
through, causing yet another puncture. A few tuk-tuk trips back and forth to
the previous village followed. Then, 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 had 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 the few built solely
as defence. Soon afterwards, we spotted a beach resort. Even though we’d just biked
six kilometres, it didn’t take much convincing before we decided 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.
25
December - Bekal – Payyanur – 43 km
Feeling
a bit sluggish after enjoying a satisfying breakfast, we continued along the breath-taking
Konkan coast. The scenery was captivating, with shimmering backwaters and
colourful houseboats drifting lazily by.
However,
in our daze, we missed a crucial turn and found ourselves in Payyanur, nestled
along the serene banks of the Perumba River. The town is renowned for its
esteemed astrologers, known for their insightful readings and predictions. To
our dismay, we soon realized that it was Christmas Day, and our search for one
of these skilled astrologers proved fruitless, as many were likely celebrating
the holiday with their families.
26
December - Payyanur – Kannur – 52 km
Our
late departure was due to Ernest needing a bike shop. Once underway, and what has
become our daily habit by then, brunch was 20 kilometres beyond Payyanur. Most
of the day’s distance was spent trying to find the beach.
Eventually,
we located the beach, 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-bedroom 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 an already excellent
but inexpensive meal.
27
December - Kannur – Payyoli – 64 km
The
Kerela coast was flat, the weather pleasant, and the going significantly more
manageable as the route led past palm-fringed beaches and the 16th-century St.
Angelo Fort.
Coming
across an idyllic beach, we pitched our tents and enjoyed a peaceful afternoon.
As our camp was near a sizable village, we had hordes 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 the 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 and it was a miracle that Ernest retrieved it from the
traffic. There was, however, no rest for the wicked, and we pedalled to Calicut.
The seasonal holidays further complicated our hunt to find an abode. Eventually,
a guesthouse with four beds was discovered. 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 the shop in town, and I wondered what he had bought, as he was so reckless
that 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, we
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 for our regular roadside breakfast. I was immensely impressed with my
sister gaining fitness and we pushed onward 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, we found a hotel that could accommodate three.
The
beach was packed with holidaymakers, mainly Indian families. In India swimming
in a bathing suit was a pretty daring thing. Amanda and I walked far along the
beach to have our swim, but spectators (cell phone camera in hand) still appeared
in no time. By then, our pictures must’ve been on half the phones in India. I
must add that I wasn’t looking particularly good, bed bug-eaten and half bald. My
hair was falling out at an alarming rate and I was shocked at how little hair I
had left.
3
January - Cherai Beach - Fort Kochi – 28 km
Cherai
Beach was an excellent spot to hang out, but the accommodation was a tad pricy
and we felt it 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 to catch a Kathakali show, which was told through drama, music,
dancing, and hand gestures. The costumes, make-up, and headgear were
extraordinary, and the show lasted at least an hour.
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 information regarding a trip along this favourite
900-kilometre network of waterways. Our abode was inexpensive, and one couldn’t
expect a great deal at the price, but the bedding was clean.
5
January - Alleppey
We
discovered public ferry-taxis operating 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 transport passengers. We cruised
past tiny hamlets, rice fields, and palm trees, where boats were still the main
form of transportation, as they had been for centuries. We hiked around
Kottayam for almost an hour and a half 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 took 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 ride lasted 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 for bathing, 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 Ernest was preparing food.
7-8
January - Kollam – Varkala – 36 km
From
Kollam a leisurely ride ran to Varkala, 36 kilometres away. Once in Varkala, we
began our usual search for budget stays and were lucky to find just what we
needed. The following day was spent in Varkala, allowing us 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 we reached 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 swim, snack, and have a beer. By evening, we
splashed out and ate at one of the beachfront restaurants.
10
January - Kovalam – Takkalai – 54 km
The
day turned out reasonably hot and, following the Western Ghats route, we passed
villages engaged in festivals complete with music and flags. What an
interesting place India is.
Upon
spotting serious-looking mountains in the distance, we nervously wondered
whether our road would cross them. It was an exceptionally scenic ride though
and, in the end, the hills tapered off, and there was no need to bike over any
mountains.
11-12
January - Takkalai - Kanyakumari – 36 km
After
the ride from Takkalai to Kanyakumari, Amanda reached her destination. She was
pretty pleased with herself, and rightly so, achieving her goal and India’s
most southerly point. Three oceans met in Kanyakumari: 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,
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 belongings for her flight to South
Africa. Fortunately, enough time remained to visit Chennai’s famous temples. Then,
with my sister gone, I caught a train for the return trip to Kanyakumari.
