Roameo on the Emerald Route

[Majic]

Originally Posted by Samurai

Majic, you are welcome. But I am not sure whether I can get my boss to receive you at the reception.

Sir, i don't expect the bigwigs to be there but defenitely the presence of Samurai would be most welcomed, will plan the program and PM you. Off the topic, i have been through most of your works and love them, please do pen something when time permits and when you make the travel.. Sorry Roameo, for stealing space on your thread!

[Roameo]

Originally Posted by Samurai

BTW, I spell my name as Sharath.

Sorry Sharath, I misspelt your name.

Originally Posted by Majic

Nice pictures and narration Roameo, i think your narration is getting interesting everytime. I am really enjoying your work. mmmmm so today you have ended with Pakoras!

Happy that you are enjoying the story and the pakoras>

Originally Posted by sushrutha

Excellent & point by point details make me as if I'm part of the trip.

Slight corrections

Isn't it Ajjarakad ??. Probably a typo I feel

'Ajjarkad' it is. Thanks for pointing out the typo.

[Majic]

Roameo, what do you mean enjoying the trip, i am there litreally, mesmerised by all your narrations. Do continue

[Roameo]

Stuff dreams are made of

A day away from our return trip, I left for Mangalore to spend the day at my mother-in-law's and bring back Sonny and my wife to Udupi. My wife had earlier warned me that the roads were really bad at some places. I decided to leave the car behind and took the public transport.

As the bus rattled along on its relentless course at breakneck speed, I sat by a window looking at the rain drenched greenery passing by and waited with a palpitating heart for the bus to reach the Udyavara bridge. Every time I pass by on this bridge there is a ripple deep in my subconcious mind and another of my wild and far fetched dreams rises to the surface. On the other side of this bridge is an island. I dream that I will be one day the lord of this island with a large cottage and a speed boat to ferry me to and fro. I once shared this dream with my wife when we were passing by and she gave me a stare like only a wife can give her husband.


Udyavara River

It appears it is human nature to look for gems and pearls in far away lands when there is a bounty waiting to be discovered right in the backyard. The NH17 from Udupi to Mangalore is one such treasure. I have for so many years taken this stretch for granted though I have been on it a hundred times. If only I had explored a few kilometers on either sides of the high way I would have found pearls and rubies and gems and emeralds if not diamonds. December last, when I drove down to Udupi which was my first long drive in my new car, I stumbled upon one such pearl.

My cousin called me one Saturday morning to ask me if I would like to spend an evening at the beach with my family. I informed him that if it was Malpe, I wouldn't be interested. A friend of his from Mumbai, an architect and a hotelier, had built a house right on the beach at a place not too far away called Hejmadi and which he was planning to convert into a homestay facility. He had approached my cousin to negotiate a partnership in promoting and managing this business. The friend was currently on a visit for discussions and my cousin planned to take his family along.

Just after Padubidri, a diversion took us past the Hejmadi village to the beach. A narrow road alongside the shore with some little fishermen's huts and houses on either sides led us to the house. I was delighted at the sight of the tile-roofed dwelling with the open beach in the front, coconut trees all around and a back water lake behind it. It was large, airy and designed in good taste using traditional building material. The special floor tiles had been brought in from Mumbai and were the type found in old parsi homes. The was a porch of generous dimension in the front and a wide gallery ran around the entire house.


Porch


Gallery all around. Sonny with his cousin.

My cousin's friend, a a rather short man in his fifties with greying hair and a pot belly, welcomed us. We all settled down to enjoy the afternoon, the caretaker serving us fresh coconut water every now and then. I was curious to learn how he had found this place to build a holiday home. The architect slowly sipped on his coconut and narrated his story.


Tiles used in Parsi homes


Backwater lake behind the house

He was the son of a fisherman in Hejmadi. At the age of 13 after an heated argument with his father over a trivial matter, he ran away from home and found his way to Mumbai. Fortunately for him, he found employment in a little eatery washing plates and serving at the table. The owner of the establishment took a liking for the hardworking runaway boy and sponsored his studies till he grew up to become an architect. After a successful career in several design firms he started one on his own. He later took a gamble at the stock exchange, made a fortune,found a couple of business partners and launched two hotels and a restaurant in Mumbai.


View from the beach

Five years ago, he was suddenly overcome by a deep longing to visit his birth place. Upon arrival, he found his parents were already long dead and no one knew of the whereabouts of his only brother. Wandering aimlessly on the beach one day, he decided he needed to reestablish his roots here and returned to Mumbai only after purchasing this property. A few years ago, he lovingly had the house built. As the caretaker served us more coconut water, he added that he had also recently concluded the purchase of an island which could be seen from the Udyavara bridge. He smiled dreamily and started elaborating on his grand plans to develop a fine resort there.

I politely excused myself and went for a short walk on the beach.



Sonny and his cousins bathe in the warm sea as the sun slowly drops into the ocean like a pearl.


A basketful of assorted fish is what we gor for Rs.200 from a fisherman.

[Majic]

[quote=Roameo;1552399]Stuff dreams are made of


I politely excused myself and went for a short walk on the beach.


[quote]

Roameo, nice narration, a sad story of the Architect, but i was good that he had success in life. In the last line of narration do we see a root of envy arising? Please continue,looking out for more interesting narrations from you.

[pjay_in]

It's just getting better and better, Roameo. Keep it flowing!

The photograph of the spiral stairs inside Kaup lighthouse gave me the chills. In one of my trips there, I dropped my Canon S3IS on the stair near the top of the lighthouse as I was making my way down. It rolled down a few steps while my heart stopped. Then it stopped, very close to the side edge of a step. Having got my heart re-started, I walked down and picked it up with trembling hands.

There was no apparent damage but eventually it developed a problem with the zoom mechanism. I am still living with it, considering myself lucky that the camera did not take it into its head to fall of the edge. It would have shattered into a thousand pieces.

[Samurai]

Beach in the front and back water in the rear?

It has to be here: Wikimapia - Let's describe the whole world!

[Roameo]

Originally Posted by Samurai

Beach in the front and back water in the rear?

It has to be here: Wikimapia - Let's describe the whole world!

I think it is here. Because it was a dead end for the flow of water and it looked more like a lake. The sea water entered and subsided depending on the tides.

Wikimapia - Let's describe the whole world!

Originally Posted by Majic

In the last line of narration do we see a root of envy arising?

I later shared my dream with the architect. He laughed and said I am free to visit the island as friend and guest whenever it pleased me. Now and when he builds the resort.

Originally Posted by pjay_in

The photograph of the spiral stairs inside Kaup lighthouse gave me the chills. In one of my trips there, I dropped my Canon S3IS on the stair near the top of the lighthouse as I was making my way down. It rolled down a few steps while my heart stopped. Then it stopped, very close to the side edge of a step. Having got my heart re-started, I walked down and picked it up with trembling hands.

When I was a university student in Europe, I had a similar experience when I was crossing a bridge across a bridge in Venice. My camera slipped out of my hands, and slid to the edge of the canal. But in my case it did not stop there.

[Roameo]

Blessings in Disguise

3rd October,Saturday, 6.15 a.m. It was time to start on our return journey. We would go through Agumbe, Sringeri, Kudremukh, Kalasa, Chikmaglur, Belur and Hassan to reach Bangalore. After seeking blessings from my parents and promising we would call them atleast once every 3 to 4 hours, we left Udupi. It had rained in the night but the weather had cleared by morning.



With little traffic on the road we were nearing the Agumbe Ghats within 45 minutes. I think it was just after Someshwara, this charming sight by the road side cast a spell on us and I stopped the car.





We spent some time listening to the soothing splash of the fall and breathing the fresh morning air. It was a beautiful start to our journey back home. I drove slowly up the ghat as there was hardly any traffic and I wanted to enjoy every bit of the ascent. We weren't disappointed. As we climbed higher we entered the magical world of Agumbe.









From Agumbe we drove through a light drizzle towards Sringeri. As we approached this enchanting lake, I found myself automatically slowing down and bringing the car to a halt. My mom had packed us some breakfast which we enjoyed eating gazing at the lake and the scenery beyond.


The enchanted lake


Sringeri- Morning Blues

We soon reached Sringeri and drove through the town to the temple complex. Surprisingly, there weren't as many piligrims as I expected. We first went to the Vidyashankara temple for a 'darshan' and joined the queue. As we approached the sactum sanctorum an interesting phenomenon caught my attention.



A priest sat on the floor serving 'teertham' to the devotees. On his lap was a Big Platter of fresh flowers. In front of him on the floor was another big platter with coins and several 50 and 20 ruppee notes in which the devotees dropped 'dakshina' for the priest. Next to it was a Small Platter with not-so-fresh flowers. A rather portly and wealthy looking devotee dropped a Rs.50 note as dakshina. The priest gave him two flowers from the Big Platter and wholeheartedly blessed him in Sanskrit. The one after him who seemed to be a humble villager dropped a Rs.2 coin and extended his right plam. The priest pointed to the Small Platter and turned to the next devotee. The villager picked up a couple of withering flowers from the Small Platter and left. I wasn't sure if I should believe my eyes, but when the practice was repeated a few times a clear pattern emerged:

'The amount of blessing bestowed was proportionate to the amount of dakshina received .'

It was soon my turn. As I accepted the 'teertham', I could see the priest seizing me up. His fingers moved in the direction of the Big Platter and were about to pick up the fresh flowers, when I very slowly and deliberately dropped a Rs.2 coin as dakshina. I could see his fingers beginning to back off when I put my firmly put my right palm forward and looked at him straight in the eye. I could see he was greatly taken aback. His fingers quickly returned to the Big Platter to pick up some fresh flowers and put them in my palm.

[lohithrao]

Raomeo, tooo good!

Well on buying an island or staying next to backwaters/beach i think most of the people from coast dream well am still dreaming on...hehe

On the priests blessing pattern, i gues its become common everywhere, but priests at Kollur temple are the leaders in this pattern

[MCR]

Originally Posted by Roameo

Blessings in Disguise

It was soon my turn. As I accepted the 'teertham', I could see the priest seizing me up. His fingers moved in the direction of the Big Platter and were about to pick up the fresh flowers, when I very slowly and deliberately dropped a Rs.2 coin as dakshina. I could see his fingers beginning to back off when I put my firmly put my right palm forward and looked at him straight in the eye. I could see he was greatly taken aback. His fingers quickly returned to the Big Platter to pick up some fresh flowers and put them in my palm.

This is classic case of "Devaru vara kottru pujari kodalla". Even I have experienced this many times. Unfortunate that this happens inside the temple.


By the way, excellent travelogue. When is your next trip and travelogue coming? I am afraid that reaching Bengaluru will end this travelogue.

[Roameo]

Originally Posted by MCR

This is classic case of "Devaru vara kottru pujari kodalla".

By the way, excellent travelogue. When is your next trip and travelogue coming? I am afraid that reaching Bengaluru will end this travelogue.

Well said about the pujari.

I will have another travelogue. In any case I am hooked to writing now. Also you guys drive me to keep going.

[Roameo]

Lost in Eternity

As we exited Sringeri, we asked some autorickshaw drivers for directions to Kudremukh Forests. One of them tried to throughly discourage me from taking this route saying that there had been landslides in the night. I hesitated a few minutes. This was one part of our trip we were looking forward to with great eagerness. I made up my mind.



The weather continued to be friendly with intermitent mild drizzles which added to the charm and beauty of the drive. The Kudremukh ranges loomed in front of us and anticipation ran high. Sonny was excited at the sight of a ropeway bridge across the Tunga and we stopped here for a while.





At the Kudremukh checkpost to the National park we were handed over an entry pass with the time of entry marked on it as 10.30am. We had 90 minutes to cross it and report at the checkpost at the other end and we were not to stop anywhere on the route.



Now began a feast for eyes and soul. Thick forests, graceful waterfalls, vast grasslands with Rolling hills silhouetted majestically as a backdrop. The gushing Tunga kept us company at places, diverted, and returned to meet us elsewhere. We stopped often at several places we fancied. Time had no sense here.







As we went round a bend, I notice a mud track leading to my left. Curiosity got the better of me and I decided we must explore it. Hardly 30 meters late, the panorama that opened up before us took us to a world within a world.







Clouds rolled over the hills, magically trasforming the view from one minute to the other.

The roads were good right through. The heady drive continued and before we could recover, a second expanse of infinite beauty filled our vision.



It turned out the autorickshaw driver was right. There had indeed been a landslide. But it was being cleared and there was sufficent space for vehicles to pass by.



We saw the checkpost approaching. It was time to cross over to reality. It was 12.45pm. I handed over the pass to the sentry. I was cross examined at length about more than double the time I had taken to exit the forest. I calmly told the supervisor I was driving very slowly so I don't crush snakes that chanced to come on to the road. In fact there were several signboards along the road asking motorists to drive slowly to protect snakes. The sarcastic smile on his face revealed he did not believe a word of what I said, but he to let me go after noting down my car and phone number. He said if there were any incidents that happened in the park that can be traced back to my car, I would be contacted.


I had a cup of tea at a stall by the checkpost while my wife bought some spices and Sonny picked up a bottle of eucalyptus oil which he proceeded to open when we resumed our drive. He liked it so much, the car smelt of eucalyptus oil for the rest of our journey to Bangalore. Enroute to Kalasa, we saw that the road that had caved in had been sufficiently repaired for vehicles to pass by.

Before:


Team-BHP - The Definitive Indian Car Community (The art of travelling between Bangalore - Mangalore/Udupi)

After repair:

[Majic]

Nice narration and pictures, really very good pictures of the forest. I too have a sad feeling that the journey is going to the end. Looking forward to the next travelogue that you would pen!

[Roameo]

An Evening in Malgudi

It was past 2pm and we were famished by the time we reached Kalasa. Dark, heavy clouds had rolled in and hung menacingly above. We stopped at the first "otal" that came into our field of vision and partook of a simple vegetarian thali.While we were at lunch a heavy downpour ruthlessly lashed the town and it didn't seem it would stop for a while. We didn't quite feel like continuing with the journey. Having woken up early in the morning Sonny and my wife were tired. As for myself, any kind of activity after lunch is a chore and requires an extreme cajoling of the will to labour on any task for atleast an hour.There were rooms available at the Thotadur Yatri Nivas right next to the eatery. We decided to take a room and retired anon for a much needed nap. On waking up an hour later feeling greatly refreshed, we found the sky still overcast and there was a light drizzle spraying the town. We waited over a hot cup of tea at the eatery for the rain to subside. Soon the the drizzle ceased and the sky started clearing.



A short walk through the town took us took us to the Kalaseshwara Temple closeby. It was rather surprising to see only a tickle of visitors to this beautiful temple although it is has a history of 1000 years and its name is supposedly mentioned even in the puranas. Besides anyone going to Horanadu has to cross Kalasa. Not visiting this temple is really missing something.It is believed that the great sage Agastya Rishi was born in a pot somewhere nearby and hence the name Kalasa, meaning 'pot'. Mythology has it that Lord Shiva paid a personal visit to this place to bless the great Rishi.


The temple complex

There is another story which would be of great interest to all BHPians. Vindhya, the king of mountains, got over ambitious and grew too big for his shoes: he launched a rigorous regime to grow taller than the Himalayas. His height shot up at such alarming pace that even the Sun god, Surya was taken aback that his passage would soon be blocked at this rate. The vanity of the swellheaded chief went to the extent of challenging Sage Agastya who was returning from a Kashi yatra to dare cross his mountains. He should have known better than to provoke the great muni's irascible temper. But as the saying goes, "Vinasha kale, vipareetha buddhi." In a fit of rage, the great sage cursed Vindhya that his range of mountains would thence grow no further. Just imagine the great potential for exploration we BHPians could have enjoyed if only the mountain king had executed his high designs with better subtleness than what he displayed. Alas,if only had the revered Rishi kept his cool, the world's highest peak would have today been the pride of Karnataka!


Steps leading to Kalaseshwara Temple


Evening descends over Malgudi

Perched atop a hillock, the great god Shiva lords over Kalasa. As we climbed up the stairs leading to the temple, I turned back. The commanding view of the quaint, little town with its tiled roof houses, the tops of coconut trees swaying over them, the imposing Vindhyas in the background ,is a wondrous sight. After our visit to Doddamane in Agumbe, Malgudi as I had imagined it again crystalised into reality before my eyes here. We made our way to the main temple through a beautiful wooden stucture. Wet after the rain, the beauty of the temple seemed to have been enhanced and it felt good to be in its proximity. The complex is very well maintained and with very few visitors, and it was peaceful and pleasant to go around. The original temple has intricate carvings and many ancient stone tablets with inscriptions in 'Halegannada' ( old Kannada) lean against the wall in a few places.


In front of Kalaseshwara Temple

I proposed a walk around the town, but both Sonny and my wife vehemently vetoed the proposal upon which we returned to the eatery as Sonny had worked up an appetite that called for immediate apeasement by way of a snack. The masala dosa we ordered lived up to its appearance and we devoured it with great relish. I then dropped them at the lodge and set out on my own to explore the town.


Swami would have loved it.

My first impression was that the many five year Plans since independence seem to have had somewhat of a vague impact on Kalasa and seemed to be struggling to emerge from the mid-20th Century but is slowly catching up. Television dishes have sprouted over the tiled roofs, electricity and telephone cables strech over the roads, there is limited mobile network coverage.


Are those the Mempi Hills?


Gaffur's autorickshaw?

I expected to meet one character or the other from the Malgudi stories at every step. Could it be Gaffur's autorickshaw in the corner there? Perhaps circumstances forced him to sell off his old motor car and ply a tri-wheeler. Hey, that must be Swami and his friend Rajam. How tall they have grow! It appears Margayya's fortunes changed thereafter and he upgraded to an office in Kabir Street and opened a chit fund. Looks like that is his car parked in the shed. Hello, Mr.Raman! Is Daisy still working as passionately as a birth-control propagandist? May be I could hire Raju for a tour of Horanadu and other places of interest. Is that him getting himeself groomed in that shabby little haircutting saloon? A railway line with a little station would have made a perfect picture.


Is that Maragayya's car in the shed?


View from our boardless lodge.

I dread to think of what would have been the fate of 'Swami and Friends' had Graham Greene forgotten to read the manuscript which R.K's friend in Oxford had passed on to him. How long would it have taken for any publisher in India to discover his genius? Would he have lived and died Rasipuram Krishnaswami Iyer Narayanaswami unknown to the world, the aging manuscripts of the Malgudi stories forgotten in a rusting metal trunk in the dark corner of an attic?


Vindhyas. Stunted growth due to Agasthya muni's curse.

It is believed that another great sage, Rishi Vasishta chose a place near Kalasa for his retirement and founded an ashram. I think he chose well.

It was dark by the time I returned to the lodge. My wife could not help wondering what I could fascinate me about such a place to be wandering about for so long. When I put it to her that this seems a splendid place to retire to, she gave me a stare like only a wife can give her husband.




20 Litres of premium, please.