a Travelogue -III

So we started our trek from that place.-->>

Walking on the narrow road through the jungle, we had no idea where we were going, 

or how long it would take us to reach where we

would reach. 

But all of us were very enthusiastic, and full of energy, hence sarcasm overflowed. Now, in hindsight,I think if any one of us had any idea what awaited us, we might have tried to conserve every bit of energy we had.

By the way, this was tiger territory. In

between our jokes about how a yellow-with-

black-stripes-predator of prey would jump suddenly in front of us, we suddenly heard a loud commotion very near to us, in the jungle.

To tell you the truth, all of us were stunned by the noise, and at least for one second, we were petrified. Then it dawned to us that the animal was not yellow-with-black-stripes, but simply black. It turned out to be nothing but a wild buffalo!. 

Fortunately or unfortunately, this was the first and the last encounter we had with any sort of wild animal throughout the trek.

Thus we continued our walk. Now I am saying 'walk', but at that point all of us were thinking we were trekking.

Actually what we were doing then, seemed to us like a 'trek' because except one, all of us were trekking for the first time, and the path on which we were walking had steep ascends and steep descends. Each time the path

 descended for a small distance, we would look back and wonder how we would climb up the sam

e way when we returned - whether we would have the energy to do so?.

This (in hindsight) irrelevant question arised because of our ignorance. Like all humans, we too had a fundamental flaw. We lacked the power to see even an hour into the future.

After about an hour of walking, we caught up with this group of four malayalees, whom we had earlier seen walking into the jungle ahead of us, just before we had started. They told us they were frequent visitors to the place, and then they dropped a bombshell.

It seemed whatever we were 'trekking' till then, was just the approach to the actual hill. The Kodachadri hill, as they pointed to us,  stood towering before us, almost challenging us to ascend it.

  

From the small clearence we were standing in, we could make out that it was around 2 km till the base of the hill, and god knows how many more till we reach the top. But there was no need to ask god. Those guys themselves told us. It was around 6 km. Add to this the four kilometeres we had already walked to get a peek at the hill, and the total distance we would have walked before we (hopefully) reached the hill-top would be a staggering twelve kilometres.

This is no kidding. It is like walking from HAL to majestic, that too against the one-g force that was literally sucking you down, towards the valley.

The Tresspassers.

Thankfully, just when the journey was becoming a little monotonous, and just when all our bisleri-water bottles were empty,we saw a small tuck-shop. This tuck shop was also owned by a malayali. Hence language was no problem. There we re-energized ourselves, drank morin-vellam  and lime juice, ate the fruits which we had bought back in Shimoga, and after a brief rest resumed our journey.

After walking for around ten minutes, we reached a junction. There, the road split into two. The branch to the right was very narrow, and seemed to lead into deep,dark jungle. The branch to the left also led into the deep,dark jungle, but it was a tad wider than the other, and seemed the safer one to walk on. 

We had to make a choice.

As there was nobody to ask directions, we took the path that looked safer to walk on, even though it was so obviously leading us in a direction opposite to the hill which we wanted to climb.

After a kilometre or so, we reached a fence. Another glaring sign to turn back. But who are we to be stopped by a stupid fence? 

So we jumped over it and continued, walking for some more time before we reched yet another fence. This time, we could see that just beyond the fence there was something like an adivasi settlement. 

There was some smallcultivation area, and on top of a small hill a little distance ahead, there were some thatched houses. 

In one house, there was a lady sitting with two kids. We waved at her, like bourgeois tourists

do, thinking that it was her duty, as a localite, to show us the right way.

But instead, what did she do? she let her dogs loose, and although I didn't see it very clearly then, but my friends confirmed later, she charged out of her house with something in her hand that looked distinctly like a shot-gun. Amidst noises of barking dogs and gun-shots(just kidding here :)) we ran for our lives (no kidding here :)), and

 finally reached the very junction from where we had de-toured.

From there we took the other path. We were starting 

our  real trek. We were still short of four 

hours of anti-gravity excercise before we would reach the top.

 From this point till we reached the top ,when I try to recollect, I can't remember much detail except the very narrow and treacherous path that was always there in front of us, always getting steeper and steeper as we climbed higher and higher. Exhaustion had mutilated my senses.Then there was the beautiful jungle on either side, with its haunting sounds of small insects that seemed to echo from all sides, and the trickling sound of water from one of the many streams which we passed over.

This was endurance test at its toughest. We were taking breaks every five minutes. I personally was taking ten minutes break after five minutes of trek :).

                              

Finally we reached a clearing, where somebody or a forest fire had burnt 

a part of the jungle.

Through this clearing, we could see down to the valley -  what a beautiful sight it was -  and how 

high we had climbed. We rested there also, enjoying the view. 

Then when we resumed the trek we realised how important the trees were to us. Without the shadow of the trees, we were left to the mercy of the sun, and it was excruciatingly tiring to clim

b the hill in that stretch, in th

e scortching sun.

 And in some places, the climb was almost 90 degrees -MI-2 stuff, as one of my friends put it.

Finally as we again ran out of water, and fruits, and almost ran out of our determination, just at the right time, and at the right place, there was a guy who was selling glucose, and lime-juice. This place would be like heaven, for the poor trekker.

Near the small wooden bench where he kept his supplies, we sat on the flat stones which he had put for tired trekkers like us to sit.

After an extended rest there, and with a lot of gratitude to that guy, we set of for the remaining part of our trek, which was the easiest. We had left the steepest climbs far below us. 

Aha!

Finally, we reached the hill-top. 

We just sat at the top for some time, doing nothing. Not even thinking. Because we were tired.Mentally and physically, we had(atleast I personally had) almost nothing more to offer. Hence there was this calm - a very peaceful ten minutes to be enjoyed. 

And again, the evening was getting very beautiful with the sunset approaching. 

                                             

a Travelogue - II

The beginning

The three of us set off to Majestic.

For the trip, I had 50 rupees in cash, and my flat-mate, 60 in Sodexo coupons!. Our bus was at 10-30 pm. We reached  platform four at 10-27 (not that it mattered - the bus would start late anyway!). The other three of my friends were already there.

After an uneventful and peacefully slept-off bus journey, at 5am the next morning, we got off at Shimoga bus-stand.

Shimoga is somewhat in the central/south-central region of Karnataka. 

Landing there, one myth got shattered - that you can get along well in Karnataka if you know tamil or hindi. Yes, in Bangalore you can.May be this is due to the border Bangalore shares with Tamilnadu, and the scores of people from different parts of the country who visit and settle down there.

In Shimoga, though, the situation was different. Auto-fellas, policemen, and the local-bystander - the 3 guides without whom no travel would be possible- seemed to know neither tamil, nor hindi. They knew only kannada, and as none of us were (and still are, for that matter) competent in the language, we couldn't get much help from the local people.

Anyway, after a lot of gothilla-s,beku-s and houdhu-s (I tried to learn many more words in my brief albeit unsuccessful attempt at learning the language) we found an auto driver who knew english, and a proud man at that. Although his ultimate intention was to rip us, 'the tourists', out of our money - but us being us , that was not going to happen , which ofcourse he wouldn't know until much later when it was time for the showdown regarding his fare - he did find us an atm, and we also found a private bus that would take us to Kollur, which was our next destination. From Shimoga to Kollur, it was around 115km. As it was ghat-road, it would take us a little less than five hours. So we should reach Kollur around 10-30am. 

On the way, I noticed that a large number of school children were getting on the bus. Some of the villages from which these children were getting on seemed to have nothing but one or 2 buildings as any sign of civilization. Now remember, this was not even 6am in the morning -that was why I was amused by the large number of school children in the bus. 

Later, it turned out that these children were studying in a school in a small town called Hosanagare, where they would eventually get off. This town was like 50 - 60 km from some of the villages from which some of the children had got on.

Just think of it, small children starting at 5 am in the morning, and having to travel 50 fishing kilometers in the shivering cold for their education. How many of us has had to do that? - and at one village where the bus stopped, 2 small kids were coming from a side lane, running as fast as their small legs could carry them, but not fast enough to reach the bus before it started off. I wonder how many beatings they got from their teacher for being late that day.

 

MANDARA GuestHouse

Temple circle, Shimoga road, Kollur.

That is where we took a room. According to Santhosh, the proprietor of this modest establishment, the room rent varies according to tourist traffic. 2 days before, the same room which we were renting would have cost only 100. But due to weekend tourist traffic, it was four times as much. Anyway money was the least amongst our concerns.

We had a heavy brunch, and set off to the first and main destination in the trip - Kodachadri hill.

We took a bus from kollur to a place around 12 km away, called Kalaghatta. All these places are right in the heart of Mookambika / Sharavathi wildlife sanctuary. Actually Kalaghatta ,as we saw it, was not much of a place. It had a shed before which buses would stop, that's all. Then there was a mud road on the otherside, leading into the jungle.

This was the place where the trekking trip would begin.

a Travelogue

Sateesh and the knae
It was around 4 in the evening. The six of us were standing in the bus stand at Honovar (pronounced one-hour) ,a small town some 30km from the Konkan coast, waiting for a bus to Sagara that might or might not arrive,with each one of us making his own calculations regarding the best way to reach Shimoga on time so that we don't miss the train back to Bangalore - when two guys approached us.
One of them vaguely resembled one of my friend's landlord, whose name was Sateesh. Hence this guy's name was also Sateesh. The other guy looked like a 'knae' - as they say in Parassala dialect - so he was a knae.
Anyway, Sateesh and the knae offered us an interesting proposition. It seemed Sateesh was in a hurry to reach Shimoga and couldn't afford to wait for the bus. His brother, the knae, was thinking of taking him in his taxi, an omni van. In order to reduce his expenses,he was willing to take us along, if we paid two hundred moneys per head.
Now 200 bucks is not that unreasonable, considering the fact that the bus ticket from Honovar to Shimoga would cost one around 140 rupees. But even then, time was still on our side. If the 4-15 bus to Sagara did arrive as it is supposed to arrive,or, even if it was an hour late, we still might make it to shimoga before 10.Hence we started bargaining with him, just like we do in commercial street, just for the entertainment. But he wouldn't come down from 200 to 110. So we left it at that, and as the knae started talking to more people regarding his offer, we thought we had seen the last of him.

But at 4-45, the bus had still not arrived. So things were getting a bit tight, timewise.Shimoga was 220km away,Bangalore another 61/2 hours from there and some in the group were getting tensed, thinking about the prospect of missing the train. The KSRTC information desk was more of an ignorance desk. There was even some talk of the Sagara bus having broken down, and that there would be no service on the day.
So it was our turn to talk to Sateesh and the knae, not for the entertainment, but seriously this time. After 5 minutes of negotiation, it was settled that the knae would drop us till Sagara, and we would pay 100Rs per head for the same. From Sagara, we were told, buses to Shimoga were very frequent.

Now that it was settled, we set out with the knae and Sateesh, in their blue omni. The journey back to Shimoga had started.

On the winding narrow stretch of road through the western ghats in Uttara Kannada we would (hopefully) reach to where it had begun- Shimoga bus stand.

The plan

Actually the plan was Goa.

Goa , Goa Goa.

After a sleepy valentine's weekend, the next weekend was an extended one. 3 holidays. I had to go somewhere, someplace. The plan was to go to Goa. Unfortunately there was no tickets available to or from Goa. So the plan had to be ditched, or rather, postponed.

Now one of my colleague's husband's friend , it seems, had gone to a place called Kodachadri. It is a great place to trek, I was told.

So Kodachadri was the destination.

5 of my friends from college were game for the journey. After some googling, I booked tickets to and from a place called Shimoga. Thus the start time and return time for our journey was fixed. It was something like what you do in linear programming. We had to maximize our adventure, enjoyment and entertainment subject to these two constraints. Nothing else in our journey would be fixed.

Our broad plan was something like this - Saturday early morning we would be reaching Shimoga. From there, we would take a bus to a place called Kollur. From here, Koddachadri was very near. Sunday we would visit Jog falls, and return by the 10 o'clock train from Shimoga.

Obviously we would be following this plan as rigidly as we used to follow college timings!.
Actually in my opinion, when you are travelling, especially with friends, the real fun is not after you reach the destination, but the lack of a clear destination itself,and the instantaneous decisions that take you to another new place.Hence, at each junction we reach, we would be open to yet another answer to the question, next is what?.

the Long arm

A recent flirtation with the law reminded me of this incident, which happened a few years ago.

This happened when the four of us had gone to madras to participate in Shaastra. Even after our 'capture the flag' event was over (we didn't win any prize - our autonomous robot went phut :( ) - as it was the first time we were participating in such a big event - we were very enthusiastic to try and participate, or at least get a sense of most of the competitions that were taking place.
So on the penultimate day of the event, one of my team-mate, and another friend, a student of iit itself, in whose hostel room we were staying, took a bicycle, and went to roam around.
In iits and all, the security is taken care of by a separate organization - i forget its name - but it is similar to , but not as sophisticated as the BSF or something of that sort. Anyway, it is this organization that makes all the security and traffic related rules inside the campus.
Now, they had this somewhat strange rule, that at one particular junction inside the campus, you couldn't take a simple right turn, but had to go further up , take a u-turn and come back.Even if you were on a cycle, you had to pedal the extra 200 metres. But anyway, most people seemed to follow this.
Now, how this was implemented was that, there was one security guy at the junction, who would walkie-talkie any offender's description to a main security officer who stood in the middle of that road. This security officer would stop the culprit, and charge a modest fine of five rupees.

Now, as my friends were returning via this place, my friend who was riding the cycle,and who knew the rule well enough, deliberately took the right turn, and went ahead, where he was promptly flagged down by the security officer.
Ofcourse, anyone else would pay 5 rupees and push off, but not my friend. As (even now) one of his definitions of "entertainment" is arguing with policemen, he did just that. He hid his purse, pretended he had no money, and started arguing and pleading with the officer to let them go without paying the fine.
May be he would have let them go, until my friend made a comment in malayalam about how the officer would collect all this money, and have a nice drink in the night.

Unfortunately for my friend, the officer knew malayalam very well!.

Thus the officer became very agitated, and my friend's dialogues were aggravating him even further, until at one point they even tried to exchange blows. In fact, I strongly suspect my friend got one or two hits with the lathi, but to this day he doesn't admit it.

Anyway, all this time, myself and my other teammates were in the hostel. Now, as these two guys were supposed to return in an hour, and as it was like three or four hours since they had left, we became a little concerned, infact more curious to find out where they were. So I and one of my friends decided to take a walk to find them.

We were well past them when we heard our names being called , and we turned and walked towards them.

When we reached there, the situation was was that one more security guy had joined the group, and my two friends were being abused and threatened, and their cycle confiscated.

Now my friends didn't have their ID cards with them, and so the security guys were branding them as terrorists and as one said,they 'had them in custody, and they would be presented before the head of security, after which they will be put in jail!, and would be let out only if their parents came in person'.!!

Even though this threat could not have been serious, the security officer who, in my friend's opinion, 'began it all', was in no mood to end it. Each time his anger seemed to subside just a little bit, my friend would pass a sarcastic comment, only to enrage him again.

But fortunately, the other officer was not as bad tempered as the first one, and so I and my other friend were talking to him, urging him to tell the angry officer to leave our friends. We even paid the fine of 5 rupees.

Meanwhile, as we were talking to this other officer, what was my friend doing?
He was talking to certain other people who were also caught, and trying to convince them not to pay the fine and turn against the officer. Fortunately, all these people had some sense not to heed my friend's words, and they all paid the fine and left. But this action from my friend multiplied the security officer's anger many fold. He barked even at me about how we from kerala were trying to make an union at that spot!!

Anyway, our pleading with the other officer soon began to pay off, and he finally talked to the angry officer. After some more pleading and apologies from myself and my other friend (not from the 2 culprits), they agreed to let us go, but only after we gave them our phone numbers (not mine - i didnt have a mobile back then) ,addresses and i even remember showing them our return ticket to trivandrum.

Finally we returned back to the hostel, laughed like hell thinking about what had happened, had some more great fun the next day, at the end of which we boarded the train back home.

Anyway, the incident which prompted me to write about this incident, happened some days ago, when my flat-mate and I were travelling on my bike via JB nagar...