Advertisement
Published: December 28th 2009
Group photo!
Indians never understand why people would want photos of just themselves...3 states in 3 days ... We hope!
We have made the decision to be in Goa for Christmas, New Year and most importantly Rich's 30th birthday! Yes, for those of you who have been told on numerous occassions that it's the big 3 0 for Rich this really is it this time. So we've got to make it special. After researching accomodation options for this time of year we realised it would be 3 times cheaper to rent a house for a month than it would be to have a room just for a week over new year. It took us no time to decide to go with getting another nice little flat for a month despite our plans to visit Kerala between now and Christmas.
Our next problem however was transport. All trains in and out of Goa and Kerala were rammed full as everyone has the same idea as us! Damn! The option we are left with is public buses- fine for the average indian but a good foot taller than most Indians we have met this form of transport is difficult for me and a nightmare for Rich. We did some research and found out that
Not as tall as us!
The temple at Murudeshwa the National Highway down through Goa, Karnataka and Kerala is the best in Southern India, we had a good motorbike, and Rich has definately learnt to drive like an Indian .... When we considered the likelyhood of the bus crashing versus the bike and decided the risks were fairly balanced we found some helmets and started our Road Trip!
Day 1 on the Road
We set off from Arpora, a little later than planned as always but we were out on the open road well before 10am. Kitted out in army surplus jackets, 'helmets' that look for more suited to competing in a gymkana, sunglasses and bandanas- I looked strangely like the Crazy Frog! It certainly scared our local dog. We beeped our way trough the tourist towns of North Goa and were so relieved to reach the open Roads heading first to Panjim, the capital and then onto Margao were we stopped for a quick water break. Suddenly I was starting to feel like I was back in India! I couldn't quite put my finger on why though... An hour later we stopped at the side of the road for lunch. The owners of the dhaba (an Indian
The view from the top
Doesn't he look small? version of fast food/ truckers cafe without the truckers) seemed shocked to have 2 Goras turn up and had to call in the cavalry to help out. We had just managed to convince them that we really didn't want a beer while we were still riding and that some rice and curry was all that was needed when the English speaking son arrived to step in and help out with translations. When the food arrived I wondered where I would find the knives and forks... That's when I knew I had spent far to long in Westernised Goa! We washed our hands and dug our fingers into an amazing prawn thali. Yum!
Back out on the road my bum was going numb! The beautiful scenery surrounding us was enough to take our minds of the pain. Green trees, bright red soil, brilliant blue sky, crossing rivers ambling over giant boulders. It was so picturesque. The roads were so quiet which made for an easier ride. But that soon changed. We were nearing the Goa/Karnataka border. Our biggest concern about this trip was police giving us hassle. They love to stop foriegners and 'fine' them for unknown crimes- they are
Pit stop
Chai chai chai unbelievably corrupt. We had our story planned in case we got stopped at the border. Our landlord had advised us to say we were on business for International Animal Rescue and the Forestry Department. But the border caused us no problems, we cheekily ducked under the first barrier and Rich just sailed through the 2nd barrier with a nod of the head to the cops on duty. The Karnataka side of the highway certainly didn't live up to the expectations set by it's Goan counterpart. Potholes galore! Our journey slowed considerably then. The scenery changed too. We went through Karwar, a huge port and we followed the bright white sands and the deep blue Arabian seas down for the next 60 odd km.
By 3pm we had made it 200km to Om Beach in Gokarna. The bay earned it's name thanks to the way the land has formed and creates the auspicious Om symbol when viewed from above. We enjoyed a well deserved dip in the sea, had a nap on the beach and was rather alarming woken up by a cow licking my feet! I'm not totally sure what he wanted but Rich gave him a stroke, had
a chat with him and he went on his merry way down the beach.
An early night tonight and an early start tomorrow. We hope to cover 300km.... My poor bottom!
Day Two
Day 2 on the road
Today presented us with some of the biggest challenges we have had on our travels so far. We left Gokarna early, enjoying the rosy glow of the early morning sun shining from the scenery around us. It was almost cold at 8am. We planned to stop for breakfast at a roadside cafe when we got hungry, but the journey went by quickly and we were in Murudeshwa before 9.30. This little town was a recommendation of our landlord, it wasn't mentioned in any of our guidebooks. As we followed the main road through the town we could see why it was a popular tourist place for Indians. A giant Shiva appeared to rise out of the sea as we approached. We enjoyed a typical south Indian breakfast of poori bhaji and masala dhosa under Shiva's watchful gaze and then we headed into the giant temple beside the God. To our amazement there
Bikini shot!
Indians frolicking in the sea was a lift to take us up the 18 floors of the temple, so 40 rupees later we were enjoying stunning views over the quiet coastline. We could see Shiva in all his glory and judging by the number of fishing boats (and not much else) it was obvious that this town would be nothing more than a small fishing village without this Hindu attraction. We only saw one other white person in the whole place. After fending off the small boys claiming to be coin collectors so could we please give them some money (at least they are creative) we set off. Next stop Udupi, about 70 km away. We followed a gorgeous coastal road for miles, stopping briefly at a hut on the side of the road for a cold drink before heading off again. We couldn't believe how lovely the journey was. Beautiful scenery, meeting lots of Indian people and totally avoiding the tourist circuit. An hour later we reached Udupi and had a choice of stopping places for lunch. We chose to follow signs for Malpe Beach. Wow - the place was stunning - Golden sands, palm trees, some pretty little huts to stay in on
the beach. It was a shame we were only stopping for lunch and not for the night.
Over lunch we pondered how many kilometers we could cover that afternoon. We ideally would cover another 200km to reach a little village temple near Kunnar. We had read about thayyam dancing. Every village temple in Kerala would perform this dance annually and the dancer invokes a deity of a God. As an art form it is displayed at a temple near Kunnar every evening. We're going to aim for getting there, not least because there doesn't appear to be any nice places to stop at between here and there. We hit the road again but our hopes of a speedy journey were dashed. As our average speed dropped from 60km to 20km our spirits dropped to. The road was terrible. Pot hole after pothole, mile after mile of broken roads. It was almost impossible. To make matters worse the scenery had changed, either side of Mangalore is nothing but industrial estates. We had regular breaks, with each break gettin longer and the rides between getting shorter. Rich rode fantastically. Constantly on the look out for the best section of road to
Ahoy there!
Northern Kerallan Fishermen ride on, the over taking traffic, the cows, dogs and other paraphanalia clogging up the roads. I always felt safe. I asked Rich if we could have another break, my bum was bruised and sore, my knees seizing up from being at stuck in such a tight angle on the bike, my back aching from the backpack and my nose stinging from sunburn and windburn. Rich took a sharp right, he said it felt like the sea was nearby. With wishful thinking we head off down a narrow path, winding through back gardens and found a beach. We parked the bike up outside a very bemused looking local's house and walked to the seafront. The coast was almost deserted. We had a man with a bag of coconuts come over to try to talk to us, (sadly, unlike on tourist beaches he wasn't selling them!) but with the language barrier he soon gave up and wandered off. There are so many different languages in India I don't think that our Hindi helped much at all. We lay on the beach wondering how on earth we could bring ourselves to get back on the bike and even more, how we could
travel another 120 km. Not going to happen. So where will we stay? We had read about some small towns, none of which sounded like they had much going for them but we had to stay somewhere. We decided to aim for Kasargod or Bekel. We dressed ourselves up again in helmets, bandanas, jackets all under the quiet and intregued gaze if the local women and children. We waved goodbye, I imagine they were wondering why we were dressed like the crazy frog. At which point I suddenly found myself in a bush with the bike crushing me. Turns out the bike had slipped in the sand, we looked up to see the startled locals giggling and we realised what a sight we must look. I can't help bit laugh as I think about it now, in spite of the slightly bruised ankle.
40km later we had passed through Kasargod and we were reaching in Bekal. We had heard there was a fort so at least we would have something to see there when we arrived. It wasn't looking promising as we rode through the grotty town. We had nothing in the guidebook advising us where to stay
Taking in easy
Rach relaxing in the battlements and we couldnt face any more travelling on the bike today. We were getting desperate for a bed. I had seen a poster for a hotel so with eyes peeled we were looking for a place called Nirvana. Our friend Theo has a theory that anywhere that has to give itself such a grand name really can't be that good- we weren't expecting much. The relief we felt when reception told us they had a room was enormous. When we heard the prices and saw the luxurious bedrooms we realised we had found where we would be spending our Xmas present money from the parents. And didn't we deserve it after the journey we had! The best thing about our wonderful bedroom... The pillows! Oh how I have missed good pillows. And towels. And a soft bed. This place truely is Nirvana!!! And we are the only ones here as no one knows about the place.
We still face the little problem of having another 400km to cover in the next 2 days if we want to get a decent amount of time in Cochin to do the backwaters etc. But we can't even think about that before dinner.
The annual village Theyyam
It was as bizarre as it looks Over dinner we start chatting to one of the waiters who tells us about the backwater trips you can do from here, in Northern Kerala. Suddenly we are thinking we might not need to go so far south. We are shown a whole list of things that are local to Bekal, there is the fort next door, the backwaters, there is a hill station similar to Ooty (another place we would have liked to visit) ... It sounds like we couldn't have stopped in a better place. We went to bed happy that we had found a place to rest a weary heads, and such a wonderfully comfortable place it is.
Day Three
We had a great nights sleep in our posh hotel, loving every minute of it. Today we planned to see the fort and book our backwater trip. Over breakfast we find out that in a village just a couple if miles away it is that one day of the year that they perform the Theyyam dancing! No way! I couldn't believe how lucky we were. This was something we really wanted to see and had resign ourselves to the fact
Boo
The Deity has been invoked, and Rachel got riced that we wouldn't be able to make it to the town in which it performed regularly. And here we are being told that it starts this afternoon.
We walked over to the fort and spent 2 scorching hot hours roaming the battlements. God knows how the English managed to conquer this place in 1799, we're just not cut out for working in this heat- it must have been the rainy season when we arrived!
After lunch our waiter tells us that his friend is also going to the Theyyam dancing and will take us to the temple. We arrive with 3 Indian men who seem eager to show us the local customs. We park up in a field and it looks like we have arrived at a village fête, there are stalls all over the place and there is a really festive atmosphere. We take our shoes off and head into the temple ground where we finally catch a glimpse of the 'dancer'. Well, words cannot describe it. You'll have to look at the pictures! This brightly coloured, bulgy eyed, man danced and swayed around shaking his lightening shaped sword at people and throwing rice at us. It
was all rather bizarre. After an hour or so if this we left the deity to it and went to look around the stalls. We soon understood that we were really lucky to see this today. If we had gone to Kunnar we would have seen this village tradition performed as an art form displayed for tourists. We saw it in the village, as it should be. An annual 10 day event culminating in the performance we saw today. We were the only white people around and by the attention we got from many people I think we are possibly the only white people who have ever been to the village. We tried sweets from the sweet stall, gooey jellylike stuff filled with nuts and raisins. We shopped for bhindis and tried avil milk, a concoction of smashed banana and ice mixed with nuts, oats, condensed milk and normal milk. Delicious. And at local prices the entire afternoon out cost us less than a pound.
We made it home just in time to watch the sunset from our quiet patch of beach. Some young kids came over to talk to us, they were fishing with a round net that
you throw out from the shoreline. Before I knew it Rich had disappeared over the rocks following the fish with 3 or 4 young indian lads. I had a stilted conversation with one of the kids while the others were gone, almost as though he felt he couldn't leave this foreign lady alone on the beach. Eventually he disappeared after Rich and his friends. When Rich returned he told me the young lad had made a point of telling him that his wife was waiting for him. How sweet!
Seconds later I saw one of the most shocking sights I've seen in india. A group of people walked onto the beach. One of who was a lady, she was fully covered in a black bhurka. Quite normal as this seems to be a very Muslim part of india. I am used to the local ladies running in the sea fully clothed while their male counterparts strip off to their undies for a dip. But this lady ripped off her bhurka, face uncovered she smiles at me as she lifts the long black shrowd covering her whole body. Before I know it she is pulling it over her head!!!! I realise
she is kitted out in a full salwar kameez (punjabi suit) underneath but never the less, seeing such rakish behaviour was very shocking!!
Rich decided that we needed to get out of the hotel for dinner. On a recomendation we went to the Quality Restaraunt. As we walked in the waiter ushered us through to a deserted back room labelled 'family only'. Rich resisted, saying he wanted to be in the main restaurant but I hushed him with a discrete look to say i will explain in a minute. In India they offer women a seperate areas to eat away from the oggling men. To refuse this area is like saying you would like to get the male attention, it's almost as bad as showing your shoulders!
They didn't have a menu for dinner, but we managed to order chicken and tomato and rotis. And what a feast we had! The delicious food kept coming, the waiter kept smiling and offering more. Rich couldn't say no, so after paying our £4 bill, we left very contented, looking like pot-bellied swarmis.
Day Four
Today we woke excited about our backwater trip. After breakfast, we were asked by the management
to pose in some pictures for their website, which we were happy to do - until we realised that by the time the last photo was taken we were late to get to the boat. We tried to pay our bill, only to find that they didn't accept cards! A fifty pound a night luxury hotel??? What the hell would you do if you stayed for two weeks?!?!? We used up our emergency cash to pay the bill, and huridly left, almost forgetting our passports!
We were told there were ATMs on route, which was now an essential stop as we had nothing to pay the boating company. And now my cards are being refused. Great. We stop at another hot box ATM (the air con ones are a breath of fresh air, but the rest are like being in a greenhouse!) - card refused. Now we're getting really peaved - we're supposed to be at the boating place and we still have no money. We carry on riding through this busy, hot and dusty rush-hour town, avoiding rickshaws and scanning for another ATM. Rach spots a Bank of India ATM - our last chance, these guys always pay out.
Our 5 star hotel
Which didn't take visa..... And they did, so we jumped on the bike and finally got to Bekal Backwater 45 minutes late.
But what a contrast it was. Within minutes we were on the boat, introduced to our crew, and were chugging along through the beautiful Keralan backwaters on a converted rice barge. Suddenly the world was wonderful again and we had 24 hours of relaxation to look forward to. It's that love-hate thing with India again!
We stopped for a swim in the warm, salty waters. We returned the waves of local fishermen, school children, housewives, construction workers, mussel bobbers and cricket teams. We sipped tea and ate fried banana. We fed wild monkeys. We stopped on a deserted beach and watched the most beautiful sunset we'd seen so far. And we ate, thanks to our personal chef, until our bellies could take no more. It was a very special day, and as the light dimmed in the sky, it dawned on us that we weren't even half way through the experience - we still had a night in the ensuite bedroom of our own chartered rice barge to look forward to, watching the ripples over the backwaters lull us to sleep.
The next days
After all of the good fortune we'd had so far, we decided to take our chances and to head east away from the potholed main highway and to see where the road took us. We had a rough plan of visiting a hill station for a couple of days and to then go north back towards Goa. So we jumped back on the bike and rode (without a proper map - the Indian government doesn''t appear to have a geographical society!) towards Ranipuram, which had been advertised on all of the hotel's as one of the top tourist attractions of northern kerela. Well you can imagine our surprise after a 20 minute ascent of avery steep, potholed 'road' to arrive at a building site and a closed chai wahla. Puzzled, we quizzed the bemused local man where Ranipuram was. 'Here' was his answer. It would appear that the Kerelan Tourist Board had started their advertising campaign slightly out of sync with the completion of the construction of any form of accomodation!! Slightly disheartened, we descended all the way back down the hill and decided to continue east. We had lunch at a local restaurant on the
Keralan border - by this point we were completely off of the tourist trail and even the dogs were giving us funny looks. But as always, the food was great and the people friendly. The waiter seemed appaulled after Rach pointed out that he'd overcharged us on the bill (£4 instead of £2 for two chicken birrianis and drinks), and then refused to accept my proposed tip of 30 rupees (40p). Eventually, I haggled him up to 20 rupees.
So we crossed the border without hinderance (it appeared from the dircction of the maiming spikes that Karnatakans aren't welcome in Kerala, and not vice-versa), pausing to photograph a freakish scarecrow - made using a rabbit's head and wielding s sword, Jack Sparrow style. As we wound through the hills, the scenery just got better and better. We saw breathtaking valleys full of palm trees and lush green vegetation, waterfalls by the side of the road, beautiful flora that would easily be on display at Smith's Nursery, and I got to enjoy some great riding roads. The centre-stand got a bit of a battering on many of the hairpin bends, but the bike was solid on the tarmac and dealt with
it perfectly. I guess they design bikes here to take entire families and their livestock, so we weren't exactly pushing it to the limits!
As we left the mountains and moved towards the town of Madikeri, we had our first incident with the bike. I'd noticed the gearchanges getting notchier during the mountain roads, and as we pulled away from a stop, the clutch lever went limp - the cable had snapped. Now I'd riden from Wales back to Brighton without a clutch the gear before, so I wasn't too concerned - we could ride the 18km to Madikeri without a clutch, although following buses up hills which crawled practically to a standstill meant that stalls weren't particularly easy to restart as I'd have to turn the bike around first! My nuts took a particular battering on one failed attempt... Arriving in Madikeri, we couldn't believe our luck - the first business we reached was a motorbike mechanics! Ganesh the mechanic was happy to take on the job, and rode off to get a new cable from the local parts store. In the meantime, Rach and I consulted usually rubbish RoughGuide, to find an entire section on Madikeri! After Ganesh
It's NOT a skirt!
Loving my lungi present from Ivan returned and and we paid him £5 for his services, we made our way to Mojo's Rainforest Retreat, where we are now spending the next 24 hours at an ecofarm. We have already been for a walk to a hilltop vantage point and tomorrow will be taken for a three hour trek into the coffee plantations. Happy Days :-)
The journey home
We woke after a great night's sleep to the quacking of ducks, revived and ready for our trek that the Ecotourist resort puts on daily. This was the first time we'd been anywhere since we left England that had a group feel to it. It was quite nice to have that instant team feel and was great for sharing stories and swapping ideas on places to visit. After a morning whiskey with a couple we'd befriended the previous evening, we wabbled up the hills and took in some breathtaking scenery and saw some interesting flora. The pictures do it better justice than words!
Returning from the walk, we relaxed in jungle hammocks whilst waiting for group lunch and packed our bags ready for the next journey.
We hit the road and the first hour was great.
Hello!
Starboard bow Mile after mile of winding mountain roads. Even Rach on the back noticed that I was really enjoying myself :-)
The road quality started to diminish as we passed through what appeared to be a poorer area. The roads were completely potholed, I was using the entire width of the road (and verge!) just to avoid buckled wheels. We were averaging about 15 miles an hour, and had 50 miles to get to the next major town which accomodation. To make things even more difficult, not a single road sign was in English - just lots of swirly symbols. We had to stop and ask for directions at every junction. It was knackering.
We stopped for a well deserved chai at a picturesque village. No one at the wallah spoke English or Hindi, but the old men on the bench outside were welcoming and we managed a basic conversation using hand gestures. It was really nice. It was difficult to ask for someone to take our picture - no one appeared to have ever seen a digital camera before, and it took much gesticulating before the nominated photographer realised that he was holding the camera back to front!
We left with smiles and waves, and
Dredging for sand
FIll up your boat and go build a house fortunately the roads improved as we wound our way to our overnight stay in Hassan, a grubby town but with some great food :-)
I'm not going to write a lot about the next day. We set off early, and plotted a path through the national park to see if we could catch a tiger safari on our way to Jog Falls. We got to Belur in great time, and had wandered around the Hindu Hoysalur temple complex, noting the perverted carvings of naked big breasted goddesses being fondled by their gods. Certainly India was very different regarding nudity a few centuries ago. It was like looking at the karma sutra in stone!
We arrived at the wildlife sanctuary only to find it dead, other than the few non-English speaking staff. I tried to ask what language they spoke, and was briefly optimistic when i thought they said Canadian. Putting on my best north American accent, I asked when the next safari left. Rach despairingly explained to me that in Karnataka they speak Kanada. Oh dear. Either way, we didn't want to wait around for four hours on the hope of spotting a tiger, so we hit the road. And
that's where hindsight would have been useful. Rather than backtracking a few kms and doing the main roads, we went the 'direct' route through the mountains. The amazing scenery this time didn't make up for the four hours it took to cover 30 miles of twisty dirt and potholed roads. Ouch.
Our last day on the road took us back to Goa from Shimoga. After woofing down dosai at 8am, we flew to India's highest waterfall. It was an impressive sight, although we couldn't justify an hours walk down the 600metre descent and the two hour trudge back up, so we found a spot that was a direct fall down, took a photo and left.
We arrived in Palolem that lunchtime, and felt instant disgust that we were slap bang into western tourism. A bunch of touts ran over to us and started telling us to come with them to their beach shacks. The place looked like benidorm so there was really no chance we'd ever want to stay there, so after Rachel nearly ended up punching one of the most persistent touts, we jumped back on the bike and found a peaceful haven about 2km south called Colomb. We
Mussel bobbers
Women with weights on their heads - that's right, they aren't supposed to be in the boat! had our own beach, fantastic cheap food and a beautiful sunset. We decided to take full advantage of cocktails happy hour and got smashed :-)
Sadly we didn't have a beautiful nights sleep as we were rudely awaken three times by the loudest india couple next door. Rach started shouting at them after the third round of what sounded like appauling bad sex, followed by disgusting hawking, and fortunately they left at 7am, allowing us the peace to relieve our hangovers!
We befriend a fun pair of frenchies who were well into their 60s, they'd been travelling for 20 years so had plenty of stories to share! We spent the day chatting and enjoying the beach, then Rach and I went to the deepest and most trancelike yoga session we'd ever been too. I didn't realise I could put my toes over the back of my head....
We decided to stay another night, this time in a beach shack. After a great nights sleep and another yoga session the following morning with our French friends, we got back on the bike for the final two hour stint back home to Arpora.
1500km, a new clutch cable, and all our limbs
intact. What an adventure! :-D
Advertisement
Tot: 0.134s; Tpl: 0.019s; cc: 15; qc: 66; dbt: 0.0658s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1;
; mem: 1.3mb
Jill Dunkley
non-member comment
happy birthday
Hi guys .see you are still having a fab time. I bet the animal rescue especially the monkeys are missing you,Happy Birthday Rich,bet you didnt expect to be spending your birthdays like this.We had a lovely xmas and looki g forward to Egypt on Friday. we are due for more snow so fingers crossed we can take off.Take care both of you and speak next Year!!! love Jill and dave x