Setting sun reposes and hides its blissful rays
Its fading glaze like a line of swordplay’s
The nights complementing when suns away
My heart melts in the allure till the dawn of the day
Om Namah Shivaya Namah Om was the ditty recited by couple of nonnatives at Cafe 1987, resort situated at the slope top of Kudle shoreline, as we headed inside to fill our bottomless pit. A place with great seating course of action with cushions and beddings on the floor, high quality paper lanterns, colossal Graffiti painted in fall hues with shower paints “There is no way to Happiness.. Happiness is the way“, some little earthen pots with therapeutic herbs and an adorable establishment of Shiva Lingaa in the corner perfumed with incense sticks and little Diya’s looked delightful.
Mythology says “Ruler Ravana was once honored with divine Atma Lingaa when he impressed Lord Shiva by his profound supplications towards Lord Shiva. Amid Ravana’s visit back to Lanka, he ended on the ocean shore to perform sandhya vandane(evening supplications), while he gave the Atma Lingaa to Lord Ganapati who camouflaged as a Brahmin and hence Lord Ganapati set the Lingaa on the ground established when Ravana did not return promptly and in this way every one of the forces of the Lingaa were lost. In anger, Ravana attempted to haul out the Lingaa from the beginning, an outcome it de-formed and broke into a few pieces. Ravana tossed these pieces in various headings” and hence one such place is Gokarn, which means Cows Ear in Karnataka.
Surprisingly, most of the visitors I met were from Germany, Spain, Italy and South America who visit India during winter to learn Vedic chants, Yoga, Sun salutation, Meditation, Reiki, Iyengar Yoga and more.
Kudle beach – accessible by walk or rickshaw from Gokarn city, one of the most popular beaches, is where we rented a beautiful cottage at Namastey holiday homes. I believe everyone here acknowledges a Namastey instead of a Hello and are so friendly, serving every dish made with sanctity. Nearly 13 restaurants serving Italian, Caribbean, Mexican, Goan, South Indian food nearby. Precisely inferring what each recipe is made of like Upma made with Semolina. We spent our first day relaxing around the beach, we were lucky to grab enough of Mexican food and of course mouth-watering Gobi Manchuria.
Kudle beach is steep and is dangerous for diving. In spite of the warning signs people have lost lives swimming here. However, we decided to settle back and breathe easy, unwind and rest.
Nearby young ladies accumulated around each nonnative, to offer fake stone gems. I welcome that these explorers do purchase the stuff as souvenirs every costing Re/ – 200-500. Somehow, I felt the costs of pieces of jewelry, key chains were too high and how these outcasts get hoodwinked. Listening to one of their discussions, the young lady said, she makes a trip each day to the shoreline to sell her gems and she knows how to make them by hand consummately. In the event that, we need to get it changed she will supplant. This young lady was offered a container of Sprite from one Italian person. He was informing her concerning his home in Alps. He likewise purchased a neck piece for his better half and was inquiring as to whether his decision was adequate. The young lady was feeling great inside the Hotel far from scorching beams. Of course, the nearby servers were eve prodding these young ladies. Tragically these young ladies have stopped tutoring and are bringing home the bacon by offering stone gems. I was peaceful perplexed on the measure of information they share naming every stone, which I scarcely penned down. Topaz, and some high review gems. I got two neck pieces as well!! J For Re/ – 100. The young ladies tongue was Gujarati, she talked great English, Hindi and Kannada.
Strolling ahead, after a flavorful feast at the Sunrise Café, we moved to the swimming pool of our resort. 4 section of land is changed over to wonderful slope see cottage homes. We met numerous individuals who were meditating Om Namaha Shivay and were occupied with moving to psychedelic music. They wore orange clothing; a Lungi and Shailya on the shoulders and tangled hair or Jatha/dreadlocks which is an image of Shiva’s streaming locks. Generally, voyagers/hippies or even Reggae inspired individuals wear Jatha in a twisted bunch or bundle on top of the head. The strands are rubbed with ashes and dairy animals manure, considered both sacrosanct and purifying, then scented and decorated with blooms or beads. All things considered, numerous styles and techniques including this.
Hallucinogenic music “psychedelia” one kind of genre is heard all around. Standing between music lines, I watched Om being spread in all tunes. This prompting Psychedelic deep sense of being includes any sort of altered state (ritualistic or not) that by one means or another places you in contact with a persistent journey for God. A delightful lady from Romania was moving and it could recount to us one story that she fancied herself as one of the solid associations she made in looking and raising with God. I would not say much on that in the event that she could have galvanized with any psychedelic pill. Bewildering however, as I was a long ways past the creative ability of the possibility that these explorers are enlivened by our way of life, yet have not pulled back from banned recreational exercises. This woman wore a long skirt, secured herself with a scarf, a bindi on her brow, anklet, bangles, and tangled hair. She looked pretty and her creative abilities were told on the paper independent from anyone else, when she rapidly drew a geometric outline and raced to stick it on the bistro dividers. All were stunned. 🙂
The following day we enlisted an auto to explore OM beach. As we climbed the foothill, the shoreline look deserted. I was confounded when I assessed the shape of OM. No inquiries for the sensational Gods creation. We can plainly make out the profundity of the shore, bedraggled than Kudle shoreline and very few diner spots to chill. We addressed the neighborhood boat proprietors who showed us a good time at Rs/ – 1600 to Half-Moon beach, Paradise beach, the light house and returning to Kudle beach. We located couple of dolphins seizing little separation from the shore, striking it rich we envisioned them swinging like a snake.
Credits: Google Maps
As we reached our cottage, we met our neighbor, an elderly lady in her 50’s who was in India for the fourth time. She was in Pune (Maharashtra) to learn Massage and Spa benefits and to learn Iyengar Yoga in Gokarn. It is chiefly Hatha Yoga and spotlights on alignment of physical body parts managing diverse Asanas and 14 Pranayam methods. How would you feel when a outsider educates you such a variety of things concerning your nation which you dint know?? This old lady is a Yoga instructor in Madrid, Spain and conducts classes 3 days a week. She said why she was impacted by Hinduism and she trusts “God is all over the place” and feels glad to discover God inside ourselves. Droning Om Namah Shivay each morning, working out, going to Yoga classes at the resort and was all solidness and generous sitting tight for her girl to reach India, and was excited to visit Hampi, Ajanta, Ellora and Cochin all in only 17 days. Truth be told, we guided about her next goal Goa, Mumbai and spots she ought to feast and living. My significant other demonstrated her few photographs he shot in Hampi. The woman couldn’t trust her eyes. She was super eager to visit one of the best verifiable places in India. She was talking in her Spanglish highlight, I needed to hear increasingly.
I constrained her to try “Pani puri”. She scribbled the name in her iPad storyboard, gathered few names of vegetable recipes she savored in Pune. She was curious to know more stories and history identifying with Gokarn, Kanyakumari, Rameshwaram as well. I was so happy to describe it to her. She was awe-inspired and communicated to make it on her next rundown. I exhorted her to visit some well known strongholds and royal residences. I was grinning wide, when my significant other uncovered how he was roused by the motion picture “zindagi na milegi dobara”. The majority of the taping was shot in Spain. Exacting interpretation of the motion picture name was entertaining. “You won’t get another life” and she was flying high to hear we knew such a great amount about her nation. The conventional Pamplona’s Running of the bulls, Scuba diving in Costa Brava, Bungee bouncing in Barcelona, Skydiving in Seville Andalucia, La Tomatina celebration in Valencia, Flamenco dance form – a honest to goodness Spanish art, and to be more exact a bona fide Southern Spanish craftsmanship. Existing in three structures Cante, the song, Baile, the move, and Guitarra, guitar playing…I additionally talked about my exhibitions in one of the shows, singing a Spanish melody Asereje. She was transfixed. Danza Kuduro a Spanish/Portuguese tune, splendid foot tapping move number. It was a greater amount of an Ind-Western social trade program-me for us.
Lastly to say, the café holds various western musical instruments like
Didgeridoo, aboriginal hardwood instrument from Australia and is mainly available in Rishikesh,India. Watch here, our friend playing it brilliantly Didgeridoo
A cajón is nominally a six-sided, box-shaped percussion instrument originally from Peru, played by slapping the front or rear faces with the hands, fingers, or sometimes assorted implements such as brushes, mallets, or sticks.
I proudly say, I played few beats perfectly.
A djembe or jembe is a rope-tuned skin-covered goblet drum played with bare hands, originally from West Africa. There are daily bhajans and jamming sessions crooning Shiva strotams. Travelers find it easy and eager to learn and spread knowledge about Hinduism, worshiping Bholenath. (Hymn).. so musical.
Numerous travelers regard our way of life, have faith in Vedic serenades, take after our customs and dress so straightforward. They acknowledge Indian established music and need to spread Hindu culture which the majority of our Indians have overlooked. I was stunned when an European was filling in as low maintenance server and amid his leisure time was reciting shlokas like no other pundit.
One Italian lady revealed how she was feeling protected and secure living in India. Her 2 year old charming child was circling the bistro and was interfacing with the majority of the general population. He communicated in Italian but then would attach well. That is the dialect kids talk. His mom was snooping on my dish and was interested to recognize what I was having for breakfast and lunch. I prompted her to attempt some great formulas on the menu, not at all like she was fasting on servings of mixed greens and her child was getting a charge out of vanilla frozen yogurt regular.
At long last, we said farewell to every one of them and educated to be back following 6 months for another sedating scene of social trade, tranquilizing episode of warmth, sharing thoughts, making companions, getting some outside air, watching the beautiful excellence of Gokarn, crunching best Vegan cooking styles and more J
A foreign exchange program-me justified, despite all the trouble, truly an eye-opener stumble on an alternate note. Meeting new individuals, communicating and guiding about India and I can even now hear the Om reverberating in my ears.
A memory worth embracing and we are re-living each moment exquisitely.
Travel Distance from Bangalore
485km via NH4
Stay – Local lodges and beach resorts. Travel rides – bikes and auto.
Food – you get everything.
Image Credits – Google Search
How does it feel to travel in solitude, get onto a plane/transport/train and locate some eccentric creatures alongside you grinning repulsively,smiling obnoxiously, talking, whining just to dispose of you. (Smirks)
Snoring like a loud horn
Now and then a roof fan without a controller is greatly improved than a person who is wheezing like a horn. The sound is so boisterous and feels like there was an alert called for emergency exit.
Pardon me, roaring and roaring, the old man is snoring!!
Baby has peed, pooed in his nappy and the only place available to change the baby’s diaper is the place by you. Yikes; vacant seat 🙂
You ought to have carried a crate of tissues and enough perfumes…:( while the more youthful children kicking your seat and pulling the pad until you truly take a gander at them indignantly. Grrrrrrr
Can you pass the newspaper ??
When you purchase a perusing material and you are charmed in it. Abruptly, you get your neighbor peeping onto. That is the manner by which you pass a distrustful grin at him and after that he asks you the supplement.
News chronicles exactly at Rs.3/. Cant you get one?
Hogging like never before
Whether in a train or in a transport, you discover them eating covetously like he has been starving for a considerable length of time, crunching till the last moment of flight, biting gums persistently, tensely sitting tight for the following chai-wala. Where does the rubbish go?
Reply: Out of the window simply hitting you. It’ s like somebody wakes you by sprinkling water all over as if it showered on a speeding train. Check to ensure your nearby neighbor more likely than not washed his hands.
Though travel is fun, adventurous bus and train rides, straining flights i still have stories to start and finish.
– for the one less travelled (Rules to follow)
It’s so gala to ride your bike whether rain or sunshine, horn on restricted places, peep in the mirror, take a left turn , go zigzag, switch lanes, take a U turn, if you find police waiting to chuck you, double seat mischief’s, park it easy, style your key in public and roam around.
Who knew I would miss all the boisterous events, when I would relocate to another city. Yes, I could have transported my bike here; still I needed to travel by bus and now sharing the twinge? No, the wicked fun of sitting in a bus. The agony of traveling in a bus, who has never ventured into a bus. NEVERRRRR!!
Rushing and pushing, I climbed in a local bus, I was heading to my aunts home. How less I knew about this new city, that I got down at the wrong point. Looking left, looking right, puzzled???? Wait!! Where am I? Damn!! 3 stops ahead of where I had to get down actually. I paid extra for reaching the wrong stop and boarded another to return. Unfortunately, I asked a wrong lady and she told me the wrong stop.
Rule no 1: Always keep a road map, as to where you want to reach. Because there are people who misguide and you may reach a place you have never been.
I was waiting to meet a friend for long. She gave me her address and I got into a Volvo (Uncluttered AC bus which charges double the rate of NON AC bus.) But never mind, sitting inside makes you feel you are going into a posh expedition. I stood like a statue, unaware of getting victimized by attractive ladies, who wear face covering glares and carry bags from Louis Vuitton. This lady covered my bag by her dupatta(a scarf worn) and within seconds my wallet was stolen. I still dint realize I had lost it. The lady conductor pulled me to sit and cautioned the passengers “beware there are pick pockets.” She announced, thank god, better late than never.
When I sat down, I saw my purse was torn by a blade and my wallet missing. “What was in it “asked my friend? Cards, some important papers, license, and of course cash… “How much?” Rs. 700/-… “When you have a card why did you carry cash?” Arey, ab toh card bhi gaya na? “It’s OK, call up the bank customer care and block your card”. Blessed, I had some 50 bucks in my pocket. At least, I could reach her place.
Rule no 2: Please take care of your belongings even you have it in your pocket, keep a track of it.
One evening, I pushed and dashed all women and got in. I was wondering lean lady like me could do it. Task accomplished, I got a vacant seat. I sat as though I hurdled a 100mt dash and jumped off Mount Everest, swam across Thames. Not being so fortunate, some old lady came in and the other ladies in the bus patted my back and approached me to spare the seat for the poor lady. Not once, not twice, but so many times. Even I have to go a long way?
Rule no 3: Whether you are thin or fat, if you look young, you are sure to be asked to vacate for senior citizen. That’s not wrong, unless you occupy senior citizen’s seat. 🙂
Babies cry in the bus, the mixes of people’s body odor, the fragrances, and someone’s malodorous gases, please I can vacate it for anybody. When some lady is with a child, if she asks you to hold her child on your lap… No it’s better to give her the queens place.
Rule no 4: It does not matter, how old the child is, but his/her mother will carry him/her just to grab a seat.
And if you have seen someone coming towards you, pretend to be unwell or put your head down. No one will disturb a sleeping person.
I was in a transport some time setting off to the local station and there was an old lady adjacent to me, attempting to converse with me in some south Indian dialect. I was attempting to overlook her. As the TC neared me, he requested that purchase the ticket. That old lady pointed towards me. She was pointing her finger to every other person in the bus for a ticket. Pardon me, I just got up and got away. Above all else, I would not take my granny in a transport.
Rule no 5: Please do not feel pity for few old people who point fingers at you to buy their ticket.
Funny people I came across lately, I was listening to Rihanna and was lost while heading towards office. Some guy threw a chit on me, when he got down. It read his phone number. Mind it; I should have given it in the nearest police station or passed it somewhere or advertised on paper stuck on trees. There are people who sit staring at you or who just want to push you or try to touch you in some or the other way.
Rule no 6: Stay away from boarding a crowded bus.
This happened as of late, when I was going back home, I didn’t get a seat and I stood all way and was looking outside. The conductor wanted to get friendly and know about my place, school, work place, and city. Does he need to upgrade his database or something? Ok!! Newcomer points of interest. I have even met individuals, who ask your telephone numbers, since they need to showcase about their firm. “Do you venture to every part of a similar course day by day? Goodness, I am a nutritionist, take my telephone number. I lead coordinated workshops each Sunday. ” Call me 🙂
Rule no 7: Do not provide any of your information to anybody or by-heart a wrong number.
For a fare of Rs.24, I paid Rs.100 and was waiting for the conductor to return Rs.76. I signaled him twice to pay me the change in a packed bus. He delayed to pay until my last stop. Guess, he wanted to put that in his pocket. When I got down from the bus he returned Rs. 75. Anyways, he did not have one rupee coin. With a sigh!! Wondering, if I was the lady Gajani, would not he earn that extra buck?
Rule no 8: Always carry change. Never know.
Who spat on you?
My day would have almost been ruined while passing by a bus, when a sot would have spit on me. I luckily missed his shot (pichkkari) else would have ran home? Nah, would have bashed him and created a scene. My colleagues have reported many a times that they got slugged by some maroon paan. It’s lucky if a bird drops poppies on your head than get painted in red. Yak, how disgusting.
Rule no 9: Avoid passing by a bus, especially near bus stands. Even if you do, please look up.
Language problem, big problem. I can understand Kannada, but the conductors have always spoken to me in Hindi. No matter what happens, they speak few common words NO (gotilla, illa illa.) Don’t know what I look like; when I speak back in Kannada they are amazed (Kannadavra).
Rule no 10: Please learn some few words of the desired language to avoid quarrels with them.
It’s been long time now, I am staying in this city and decidedly there is an urgent requirement to buy a bike. I would love to escape the trouble of waiting at the shelter-less bus stops, board a wrong bus, get down at a wrong place, forget the change, spoil my clothes, accidentally fall, get stepped by pointed heels, inhale mixed odors, fight for a ladies seat, get robbed and finally run behind the bus like the scene from Jab we met.. Rukooooo
Bus ab bus.. I don’t want to be the damsel in distress any more. Time for a pleasure ride….
Copyright © 2013 · All Rights Reserved ·
Copyright © 2013 · All Rights Reserved ·
Plans fail sometimes – please don’t ask why?. When we planned for a team outing!!
After a long discussion, members decided on some great spots Wonderla, Snow city, Coorg, Ooty, Munnar, Mysore etc. These are the sightseeing places in and around Bangalore. Looking at other teams, we always felt we were caged “oh what animal do I look like”. Unfortunately, I was sick the day when this world summit took place. Friday morning I received a text message from my colleague “Hey we are going to Chikmaglur, Is that OK with you??” and “Yes I am in”.
After all the pleading and requesting, this is how we began our short OD (one day) trip to Chikmaglur, a small district in Karnataka, where you find every house with a coffee estate, families owning a big resort on top of the hills.
Yeah!! Lemons were crushed under the tires at 12 ‘o clock on Friday night, we were late because our manager was refusing to join us though he was very much interested. We picked him up from his home and tracked on the NH48, as we had to reach Hassan at 3.00 AM, where we were supposed to pick another ex-colleague.
Travel Distance – The distance from Bangalore to Chikmaglur is 250km – you can travel by local transport, private Tempo Traveler (TT), or by car and also by flight to Mangalore then by bus or hire a cab. Heading towards Hassan and then a deviation from there just 55km away is Chikmaglur.
The “coffee land of Karnataka” also means “younger daughters town” in Kannada. There are stories that this place was bought by a seer named Baba Budan from West Asia whose shrine is located atop the hills. Well, I do not want to start a history feed here.
We reached around 5.30 AM and that guy whom we picked from Hassan did not allow us to sleep whole night, because he kept sharing his stories in the TT. We booked 3 rooms in a hotel named Planters court. Such a nice hotel which charged Rs. 4000 for just 2 hours for using their bathrooms, of course 14 people. Few guys demanded hot shower, so we had to wait for the rusted taps to release hot sprinkles which would only be benefited from 6.30 AM to 7.00 AM (Tourist place always costly). After 7.00 AM, even if you are freezing, you have no option but take a plunge in cold water.
We watched the sun rise – splendid and marvelous scenery. They say a person should take time to watch a sunrise or a sunset once a day. My wish got fulfilled.
We were out-bulged after a wholesome breakfast near the lodge. King like plates filled with delicacies: large Masala dosa, Idli with two wadas, Chikmaglur special bun and famous instant coffee into our bellies. We were stuffed.
Over and out we headed towards Mullayanagiri, a place located 6343sq feet above sea level, the highest peak in Karnataka. It’s one of the best trekking places I have ever seen. In winter, you won’t get to see the place so clear as it is smothered with fog.
One the way, we stopped to take few shots of the gods own nature. Bliss to the souls, embalms you to the evergreen beauty.
Road to Mullayanagiri enthralled us.
Climbing the steps in action.
200 steps in not less than an hour and we made it. There’s a Lord Shiva temple at the top. To beat the scorching heat, you don’t have to cover yourself as the wind blows right thru your hair and it’s chilling under your feet. Lot of Vitamin D, spa like treatment, you may feel the fresh air similar to an ice cube on your face; complete facial. Free from the daily trifles, I felt too good while climbing.
Ah! I looked back to see how many steps I was above. I defeated all of them and stood first as my lean structure was of good help. My fellow mates were still climbing.
A view from the bull temple.
The final destination of Mullayanagiri range. Victory. At last, touched the honorable flag post. On clear days, Arabian Sea is visible from this point. I could not make out anything as everything looked blue.
Next stop was at a small Parvati temple nearby, I found a colorful wooden chariot inside a shed. I don’t know where on earth this gets pulled, but believe me, a fare takes place every year, to mark a feast of Baba Budan and thousands of devotees visit this temple.
We were almost squashed as we had to trek and find paths to reach the main temple at Bababudangiri. We were screaming (Jawano aage bado, badate raho) – keep walking keep searching and could hear the echoes. Hungry and hail looking out for hotel detail..:(. I caught sight of a local kirani (grocery) shop to chill my throat with butter milk and curb my hunger with a packet of Lays.
This place is visited by both Hindus and Muslims. Worshipers believe if you search Baba, you are enlightened. Baba meditated 150 years ago and people say he is still alive. Rest is history.
We didn’t find a proper restaurant and decided to travel another 15 miles to Hebbay falls and take a dip, dance under the waterfall and hog somewhere around. Poor we, as usual. On the way, it was full of mystery to wonderland (The Road to El Dorado types). Oops, if you find a way you will return else you have to stay in the jungle. Ultimate mud roads, breathe taking turns, pelting stones and poking shrubs. I was chanting Hare Rama Hare Krishna. If the tire skids you never know, we would take a free ticket and our whole team would have washed out. Thank god nothing of that sort happened. Mid way we met few people, who told us that road to the waterfalls was under construction and you would not reach there. We drove ahead and asked another man coming in the opposite direction, he just stared like a south Indian film villain and walked off. We chuckled. We drove further and met a man cycling back when stopped and questioned he waved his hands and went off. Now, this was like all gazes and stares to each other. A suspense thriller, yet we drove and this time, a Skoda car coming back. We did not stop them, they passed us and said “All the best”. Come on now this was 90’s mystery where one stares, one says no (illa illa) and another, all the best. We were curious and I remembered CID, ACP Pradhyumna speaking “ye raasta kahan ja raha hai Daya, zara dekho to sahi” and all dare devil movies like purani haveli, gumnam raasta with some background score from the movie “Satte Pe Satta”. What was it that made this place so interesting we wanted to find?
Yahoo! We got the check post and then got the most wanted answer from the guard who said” You are on the right track, but the bus would not reach there, the roads are closed and you will have to walk 5miles. You have traversed 6km now”. Ahey!! Who is going to walk so long, looking at the capacity of the people, we would reach the next day, all were tired and more over hungry. So, we took a diversion to Kemmangundi and drove another 11km.
Kemmanagundi, a place similar to others, you find Ghats section, roads in a zigzag manner. A rock garden hardly found any rocks, but got to see some hybrid Roses, Gerbera and wild flowers.
Surprisingly, discovered a resort cum restaurant, built well at an international locale, a board pointed “Vegetarian” hotel. Wow! We were hungry, if served we would have attacked like an alien.
We made nice plans while stepping inside; order Gobi Manchuri, Fried Rice, Dal Roti with fresh Lime juice. Lip smacking dishes right?? . Unlike other hotels, it was a ramshackle; don’t know when it would tumble down. It looked beautiful outside. On top of the hotel, few families were waiting to be served along with 8 boney stray dogs, barking aloud, with cataract eyes, panting to eat, as if last when they ate was blue moon day. Excuse-me, I wanted to run away.
Two of my team mates left the place searching for another hotel nearby, by chance they find we would eat some better food. They came back saying “there is another Non-Vega hotel behind this place”. Everybody ran towards this hotel, I being a vegetarian had no option but to go stay here. One guy stood up like a Spartan and said” you all wait here; I will go there and check out if there is a menu card”. HAHAHA. He returned saying” The non-vegan pointer points to the same hotel where we initially stood waiting for vegan food.
No other goes but took a U-turn to the vegan hotel. This time few tourists joined us and we lost our tables. One of our members asked the waiter “What’s the menu?” The waiter replied”Nothing” (Enu illa). We drove so far from the city just to hear nothing (bhai kuch to hoga?). Everyone’s faces were pale and now an additional tension “BATHROOM”. Mind it, men are very lucky in this case, they can go anywhere in the bushes and lighten their loads. We ladies have to look for closed and clean washrooms.
Mind-blowing, to use bushes also you have to pay and use.
The ladies would have suffered nervous breakdown if we would not request the owner to allow us use one of their washrooms.
Slurp, the food was here after a long wait, we were served the one and only dish “puri bhaji”. The puri’s were dipped in oil and the bhaji or sabji was absolutely delicious, fabulous, may be the chef forgot to add some masala, salt and little chili powder. I realized when I was in my hometown, I used to make faces for the food my mum made, and would not eat what she prepared by her lovely hands. I felt it was karma that was struck on me that I had to eat this food in the hotel. Few mates refused to eat. But, I decided I will hog. While eating, that guy from Hassan shared awesome stories from his past trips. He was a complete entertainment package with his broken Hindi and Kannada accent. He narrated a cock and bull story to the waiter and nicely relished a plate of fried rice, stating he suffered from jaundice. He made the rest of us laugh and forget what dish we were munching on. Tourists sitting beside were giggling and watching him enact. He took care of the hungry dogs with a packet of Parle-G biscuits throwing one at a time and see them fight over it.
Where’s the wash basin?? We washed our hands from a pipe.
Unhappy, we could not make it to the falls, it was getting dark and we had to leave the place before sun sets else it’s dangerous to drive on the narrow roads. At 4PM we left the place. I spotted many photographers with tripod near the sunset point. They must have taken terrific shots.
We stopped at a dhaba named Giri for a quick break. It was 7PM now. As I got down from the bus, I saw one of my team mate already puking and made me feel to be the next one.
The Giri fellow asked us to join a camp fire especially conducted for tourists coming to this place. Yes, it would be private he said. To compensate the Hebbey falls, we gave in and pushed ourselves inside the resort.
Albeit men did not find their best friends (gum ka saathi rum), they danced. We ladies just watched them groove on the tunes of gangnam style.
Balle Balle till 9.30PM and again hogged the mouth-watering buffet. Soup, Jeera rice, Roti, Aloo sabji (Potato vegetable), Bhendi fry (fried Lady’s finger), Pickle, Poppadom. Whoa! I was happy, I ate a good meal now and I dint have to starve more and look half dead. We winded at 10PM. 10 minutes later, I felt the stir in my stomach and I made a quirk sound. (Bus roko) someone shouted and the TT halted. I immediately got down from the bus and ran straight towards the bush. HAH-AHA I puked. The Bhendi fry fried me off in my tummy. If given a chance I would teach them how to improve their culinary skills. I wanted to reach home and just go to sleep.
Indeed, had a fantastic, refreshing day in Chikamaglur. This trip made me and others relax and enjoy the natural beauty and inhale some fresh air.
After reading this if you are planning to visit the place, the ideal time is either summer or winter. Please carry some food along with you. Now I see why those three men on the way behaved extraordinary. If we would have payed attention to their signs may be we would not have seen such a beautiful resort and have some lovely food. The next day I got my RSS feed updated, few others too stopped the bus in between to let out vigorous acid from their stomach. I was not the only one. HEEHAW.
It’s okay. I am desperately waiting for our next trip, more adventurous than this hopefully.
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