Disclaimer: Looo………ng Post after an even loo………..nger time.
After a while, we thought we’d take our machines for a stroll in the town, and we found ourselves in front of the Botanical Garden, crazily crowded like hell as usual. Still, we did promenade a bit around there, for some snaps. There were some 3 or 4 options for us after that, but found them quite far from our point, and finally fixed on Doddabeta. I had a small plan of retreating to Conoor from there, but then decided that Conoor deserved at least a day more. The Doddabeta Peak, the highest peak of the Nilgiris, was about 8 kms from the main town, a narrow road that spiralled upward. Doddabeta reminded me of the last time I was there, with X3KnZ, and felt greatly nostalgic. The view was breathtaking, and we had another coffee while marvelling at it. Our snap session was interrupted by a guy who shooed us away saying it was the closing time and all. We returned, at a very leisurely pace, and stopped at one of the sweet shops, bagged some home made chocolates which had tempted us on our way, and headed for room.
So, see you when I see you next, which I also pray not to be longer.
- r a m z
There have been times when I think I’ve gotta thank the ‘mundane-ness’ associated with life at those particular points of time. Simple reason being that I think of taking a break and of ways of escapade. I’ve found that such times rekindle the wanderlust we’ve deliberately put in a hibernation mode inside ourselves.
Not that my training stint of eventful 7 months at the world’s largest corporate university at Mysore was a bore or anything (it was far from that), but during the Technology Specific Training period of our training, towards the last stages, after a string of particularly draining modules and hands-ons, we felt too jaded and it was Nithin who suggested the best way to recharge ourselves – an adventure.
Thus we planned, with me a bit apprehensive about the planning part, since from my experience – limited and therefore handicapped it is though- I’ve come to see that planned ones, the ones with a strict itinerary are less fulfilling than the ones which are being set out on just like that, on an impulse. But I was relieved as we faced many obstacles while planning - that’s a good omen. That Ram would accompany us we took for granted, but Thomas was the doubtful one. He was one after our own heart, crazier than us about exploring, but since it was his compre weekend, (for the uninitiated, the Compre is basically a test, the outcome of which decides if one stays in the company or not) he had to drop out.
The destination wasn’t decided as such, and I consulted Nadil, colleague and biker . When I mentioned 100km, he suggested Shivanasamudra Falls. He assured a good ride, but Nithin wouldn’t even hear of such a ‘walkable distance’. So, ultimately, Ootacamund was zeroed in. I consulted Nadil the second time, and received a bigger thumbs up, and that was that. On D-Day, after I got to see what it is like out there at 4:00 AM in the dawn for the first time after coming to Mysore, we loaded our backpacks and got past the campus gates by 5:00 AM, on the two machines we got – the Bajaj Pulsar 150cc and the Bajaj Avenger. We set off, first through the ring road that led to the Mysore-Ooty road, aided by the directions from three joggers, numerous signboards and an old guy sitting on a milestone with his goat, who vaguely remembered me of the man whom I had pictured of the old king who meets Santiago in the ‘Alchemist’ :) ( Talking of ring roads and signboards – one among the many things that the ministers and Govt of my state can learn from their northern neighbours, if at all they get some time to themselves in between the perpetual fighting, conferences and thozhuthilkuthal – planned development of a city.) I had an uncertain route map in mind then which looked like
Infy Campus –> Nanjangud –> Gundlupet –> Bandipur –> Gudalloor -> Ooty Not that my training stint of eventful 7 months at the world’s largest corporate university at Mysore was a bore or anything (it was far from that), but during the Technology Specific Training period of our training, towards the last stages, after a string of particularly draining modules and hands-ons, we felt too jaded and it was Nithin who suggested the best way to recharge ourselves – an adventure.
Thus we planned, with me a bit apprehensive about the planning part, since from my experience – limited and therefore handicapped it is though- I’ve come to see that planned ones, the ones with a strict itinerary are less fulfilling than the ones which are being set out on just like that, on an impulse. But I was relieved as we faced many obstacles while planning - that’s a good omen. That Ram would accompany us we took for granted, but Thomas was the doubtful one. He was one after our own heart, crazier than us about exploring, but since it was his compre weekend, (for the uninitiated, the Compre is basically a test, the outcome of which decides if one stays in the company or not) he had to drop out.
The destination wasn’t decided as such, and I consulted Nadil, colleague and biker . When I mentioned 100km, he suggested Shivanasamudra Falls. He assured a good ride, but Nithin wouldn’t even hear of such a ‘walkable distance’. So, ultimately, Ootacamund was zeroed in. I consulted Nadil the second time, and received a bigger thumbs up, and that was that. On D-Day, after I got to see what it is like out there at 4:00 AM in the dawn for the first time after coming to Mysore, we loaded our backpacks and got past the campus gates by 5:00 AM, on the two machines we got – the Bajaj Pulsar 150cc and the Bajaj Avenger. We set off, first through the ring road that led to the Mysore-Ooty road, aided by the directions from three joggers, numerous signboards and an old guy sitting on a milestone with his goat, who vaguely remembered me of the man whom I had pictured of the old king who meets Santiago in the ‘Alchemist’ :) ( Talking of ring roads and signboards – one among the many things that the ministers and Govt of my state can learn from their northern neighbours, if at all they get some time to themselves in between the perpetual fighting, conferences and thozhuthilkuthal – planned development of a city.) I had an uncertain route map in mind then which looked like
The ring roads were pretty good and wide, and we had the whole 4 tracks to ourselves. But the one to Nanjangud reminded me again a bit of our own state – there were a lot of potholes. I said only a ‘bit’ because they were afterall, only potholes and not trenches in which a ship can comfortably anchor, as in Kerala :). After we made some 20 or more kms, Ram said he heard a rambling sort of noise from his engine and we had our first pit stop, at the Kerala ‘Stale’ Restaurant – the food was nice, though – and set off again.
We were moving towards Gundlupet, and I’d already got the feeling of having left civilization far behind, for the whole stretch of land we were moving through was sparsely or not populated at all, and all we could see were fields stretching out endlessly on both sides, in various stages of cultivation- some just sown, ploughed and some in full bloom, with sunflowers, thousands of them, a feast for the eyes. By the time, the travel bug had caught on, and I felt that incredible sense of freedom seeping through as the fresh air hit me as we moved on, one pit stop and some snaps later.
We were moving towards Gundlupet, and I’d already got the feeling of having left civilization far behind, for the whole stretch of land we were moving through was sparsely or not populated at all, and all we could see were fields stretching out endlessly on both sides, in various stages of cultivation- some just sown, ploughed and some in full bloom, with sunflowers, thousands of them, a feast for the eyes. By the time, the travel bug had caught on, and I felt that incredible sense of freedom seeping through as the fresh air hit me as we moved on, one pit stop and some snaps later.
By about 8:30 or so in the morning we had moved past Gundlupet, and entered the route to Bandipur. We found ourselves moving through small villages – villages in their purest sense- a very rustic and austere setting. We had a brief pit stop there too, in one of those thatched-roof sheds. A few snaps, and we finally entered the limits of the Bandipur National Park.
I was riding the Pulsar–150 since our kicking off, and by this time I found myself in slight discomfort, with my wrists and forearm aching, my hips sort of cramped and my back also hinting signs of weariness due to my posture. I thought it would be the distance, and thought a pit stop and loosening myself by stretching a bit would help, but I was amazed as to why Pumbu didn’t even show a trace of anything. He suggested that we switch our machines, finally winning in persuading me to try the Avenger ( something which he regretted later ) I was quite apprehensive about riding this one, because I hadn’t ever ridden a bike of this segment, and was again doubtful if I would be able to handle it, with my six packs and all. But there was no harm in trying, and I could always switch after 5 minutes, I thought. Only that the 5 minutes extended to 45. : ) I was totally hooked within just about 5 minutes of mounting on the thing. Awesome! The easy sitting posture, just like you are about to read a newspaper or something, which gave minimal strain to your back and the body as a whole, the smoothness, the sturdiness, the stability… I am not getting into the technical specifications, because I am pretty weak or truth be told, totally ignorant in that area, so what I’ve scribbled is what I felt. I had always wondered earlier why people had a thing for these costly, weird-looking cruiser bikes, and I now totally got it. I mean, for very very short trips like the one we undertook you can adjust with a bike like the Pulsar, but for serious touring you need to have a cruiser bike, if you plan to do things like returning home and all. I got to feel the difference very pronounced later on our upward journey to Ootacamund – the stability that the Avenger displayed while negotiating upward, downward as well as normal curves and turns, was simply too cool. You could almost do with the curve without having to change the gear at all. There was but, the difference in power for both the engines, still…
So we entered the Bandipur National Park limits and Pumbu set the speed limit to 60. When he sensed the slightest breach of conduct from me he would come par and reprimand. And who was in a hurry?
Our path was now flanked by dense, wild forest in all its virgin beauty, on both sides, the air and the whole ambience pure and cool. The only glitch was the innumerable road bumps they had put on the way, as a speed control measure. Our sightings on the way counted to a couple of elephants, some wild boars, one peacock, deers, and monkeys, lots of them. And it was a pleasure indeed to watch them in full freedom, unrestrained, enjoying themselves, unlike in zoos, and giving us the what-the-hell-are-you-doing-here-dude look. We stopped at the reception centre of the national park for some time, but resumed shortly afterward as we saw our bikes about to be taken by taken by a horde of monkeys into custody.
There was a checkpost and a bridge where Bandipur National Park limits ended, and we crossed the Tamil Nadu border and entered directly into the Mudumalai Tiger Reserve. We had zero sightings on the way here, and was thankful for that too, as we weren’t actually prepared to greet a couple of tigers on the way.
I was riding the Pulsar–150 since our kicking off, and by this time I found myself in slight discomfort, with my wrists and forearm aching, my hips sort of cramped and my back also hinting signs of weariness due to my posture. I thought it would be the distance, and thought a pit stop and loosening myself by stretching a bit would help, but I was amazed as to why Pumbu didn’t even show a trace of anything. He suggested that we switch our machines, finally winning in persuading me to try the Avenger ( something which he regretted later ) I was quite apprehensive about riding this one, because I hadn’t ever ridden a bike of this segment, and was again doubtful if I would be able to handle it, with my six packs and all. But there was no harm in trying, and I could always switch after 5 minutes, I thought. Only that the 5 minutes extended to 45. : ) I was totally hooked within just about 5 minutes of mounting on the thing. Awesome! The easy sitting posture, just like you are about to read a newspaper or something, which gave minimal strain to your back and the body as a whole, the smoothness, the sturdiness, the stability… I am not getting into the technical specifications, because I am pretty weak or truth be told, totally ignorant in that area, so what I’ve scribbled is what I felt. I had always wondered earlier why people had a thing for these costly, weird-looking cruiser bikes, and I now totally got it. I mean, for very very short trips like the one we undertook you can adjust with a bike like the Pulsar, but for serious touring you need to have a cruiser bike, if you plan to do things like returning home and all. I got to feel the difference very pronounced later on our upward journey to Ootacamund – the stability that the Avenger displayed while negotiating upward, downward as well as normal curves and turns, was simply too cool. You could almost do with the curve without having to change the gear at all. There was but, the difference in power for both the engines, still… So we entered the Bandipur National Park limits and Pumbu set the speed limit to 60. When he sensed the slightest breach of conduct from me he would come par and reprimand. And who was in a hurry?
Our path was now flanked by dense, wild forest in all its virgin beauty, on both sides, the air and the whole ambience pure and cool. The only glitch was the innumerable road bumps they had put on the way, as a speed control measure. Our sightings on the way counted to a couple of elephants, some wild boars, one peacock, deers, and monkeys, lots of them. And it was a pleasure indeed to watch them in full freedom, unrestrained, enjoying themselves, unlike in zoos, and giving us the what-the-hell-are-you-doing-here-dude look. We stopped at the reception centre of the national park for some time, but resumed shortly afterward as we saw our bikes about to be taken by taken by a horde of monkeys into custody.
There was a checkpost and a bridge where Bandipur National Park limits ended, and we crossed the Tamil Nadu border and entered directly into the Mudumalai Tiger Reserve. We had zero sightings on the way here, and was thankful for that too, as we weren’t actually prepared to greet a couple of tigers on the way.
Now, there were actually two routes from this point onwards to our destination. One via Gudalloor – the longer one, and the other one which we came to know only later, the riskier and shorter one which would actually cut short the distance by about 30 – 35 kms, steeper, with 36 hairpin turns. Yes, you read it right! 36 hairpin turns!! Nadil had also mentioned about this route, but I forgot where to take the diversion. So we headed for Gudalloor, and just after we had left Gudalloor town, there was this small check post where I was stopped by a policeman. He was also headed for Ooty and could we offer him a lift? I was more than happy to help ( as if I had a choice), and he joined us.
By then it was already about noon time, but as we climbed up the altitude through the beautiful, lush forests of eucalyptus, silver oak and god-knows-what, it was getting quite cold, and there was a slight drizzle as well.
Thus our timing proved to be perfect since we could were able to evade driving at that time under the sun in the highways. The police guy, Ravi Sir as he will be called henceforth, turned out to be quite a good guy, too good to be a policeman, actually, very genial and sincere. He switched to his broken Malayalam as I started conversing to him in my ‘Tamil’. : )
We took a small break at a town-sort of thing. Not town in the literary sense, it was just a conglomeration of some shops and a few houses, and there was this small tea-shop. I tell you, there’s nothing like sipping hot, steaming coffee (and a cigarette puff, according to Ram and Pumbu) in that chilling and pure weather. It did rejuvenate us a lot physically. I earned my first glare from Ravi Sir, when I reached out for my purse to settle the bill. “On me”, he commanded, and that was that. It was a beautiful setting there – some stretch of plain grasslands, a small lake meandering through, some donkeys grazing idly and to complete the picture, the mighty and lofty Nilgiris in the backdrop. We switched bikes, and then set off, the temperature getting lower as we ascended. Pumbu was hit the most, as he chose not to put on his jacket. Much more macho. At about 12;30 we reached entered Ootacamund, and headed straight to the Police Headquarters there. Ravi Sir introduced us to all the tough guys out there, - “namma pasanga thaan… ” He bought us food again, dialed a few numbers and found us cheap and good accommodation too. And again, as a parting note, he told, “Enna prachna irunthalum yen numberkitte oru call pothum ok” The MAN.! I decided that my perceptions about policemen needed a revision. He called us a couple of times again afterwards, just to check if accommodation was fine, everything was alright, etc… He was like we had just saved his daughter from drowning or something. The MAN!
We took a small break at a town-sort of thing. Not town in the literary sense, it was just a conglomeration of some shops and a few houses, and there was this small tea-shop. I tell you, there’s nothing like sipping hot, steaming coffee (and a cigarette puff, according to Ram and Pumbu) in that chilling and pure weather. It did rejuvenate us a lot physically. I earned my first glare from Ravi Sir, when I reached out for my purse to settle the bill. “On me”, he commanded, and that was that. It was a beautiful setting there – some stretch of plain grasslands, a small lake meandering through, some donkeys grazing idly and to complete the picture, the mighty and lofty Nilgiris in the backdrop. We switched bikes, and then set off, the temperature getting lower as we ascended. Pumbu was hit the most, as he chose not to put on his jacket. Much more macho. At about 12;30 we reached entered Ootacamund, and headed straight to the Police Headquarters there. Ravi Sir introduced us to all the tough guys out there, - “namma pasanga thaan… ” He bought us food again, dialed a few numbers and found us cheap and good accommodation too. And again, as a parting note, he told, “Enna prachna irunthalum yen numberkitte oru call pothum ok” The MAN.! I decided that my perceptions about policemen needed a revision. He called us a couple of times again afterwards, just to check if accommodation was fine, everything was alright, etc… He was like we had just saved his daughter from drowning or something. The MAN!
We found our accommodation at the Lower Bazaar, overlooking the bus stand and the race course, a lodge run by malayalees, quite cosy and warm, and was more than what we would have settled for. Again, we were given the privilege of Ravi Sir’s “pasanga”. We parked the machines, and set out on a walk to find out all the cheap and good eating joints, which I must say, are a lot of them, but lacked variety of food. It was the quintessential Tamil Nadu menu everywhere – Dosas, idli, vada and the like, or we looked at the wrong places. I said we were talking about cheap joints. How typically us. :)
After a while, we thought we’d take our machines for a stroll in the town, and we found ourselves in front of the Botanical Garden, crazily crowded like hell as usual. Still, we did promenade a bit around there, for some snaps. There were some 3 or 4 options for us after that, but found them quite far from our point, and finally fixed on Doddabeta. I had a small plan of retreating to Conoor from there, but then decided that Conoor deserved at least a day more. The Doddabeta Peak, the highest peak of the Nilgiris, was about 8 kms from the main town, a narrow road that spiralled upward. Doddabeta reminded me of the last time I was there, with X3KnZ, and felt greatly nostalgic. The view was breathtaking, and we had another coffee while marvelling at it. Our snap session was interrupted by a guy who shooed us away saying it was the closing time and all. We returned, at a very leisurely pace, and stopped at one of the sweet shops, bagged some home made chocolates which had tempted us on our way, and headed for room.
The night prowlers we are, we went out for dinner quite late, and while returning, we took many detours into the squalid alleys, sub-alleys and sub-sub-alleys of the street. It was fun walking along those lanes, and there was a Subramanyapuram look and feel to the whole street.
We hadn’t planned anything for the next day, actually, and it was decided that we’ll return by 10 in the morning itself, since we felt that the journey was more exciting than the destination. So, after thankfully declining Ravi Sir’s invite to the Shooting Medu, we set off, with an even lower speed limit set by pumbu. I don’t want to repeat what I described about the road and the drive. Killing landscape. All I can say is, in a Jim Carry-ish way, B.E.A.utiful.
We hadn’t planned anything for the next day, actually, and it was decided that we’ll return by 10 in the morning itself, since we felt that the journey was more exciting than the destination. So, after thankfully declining Ravi Sir’s invite to the Shooting Medu, we set off, with an even lower speed limit set by pumbu. I don’t want to repeat what I described about the road and the drive. Killing landscape. All I can say is, in a Jim Carry-ish way, B.E.A.utiful.
There were more frequent pit stops, and snap sessions, and we resumed after a heavy lunch at a malayalee-run (Yeah, we’re there everywhere! I doubt if there is actually some truth afterall, in that old joke about Neil Armstrong finding a Nair’s tea shop after landing in Moon) hotel at Gudalloor, where Nithin and Ram got to eat fish to their heart’s content, and we stopped again at Bandipur National Park. We had a small tour around this time, and met a REAL biker on his way, on a machine that reminded me of the ‘La Poderosa’ of Alberto Granado in the Motorcycle Diaries. We rested there for refreshments, and after some more snaps later, we were off again, to Mysore. There was a slight glitch this time, as by the time we reached outside the National Park limits to the deserted highway, it was around 3 or so, and the sun was still blazing. Thus we had our most tiring stretch of about 20-25 kms, which was only helped by occasional breaks where we found coconut vendors.
It was about 5 in the evening that we finally reached the campus, refreshingly exhausted, charged and at peace with ourselves.
It’s been more than a month since this small adventure, but I still relish every bit of it, and it gave me immense pleasure to see that this route (Bangalore - Ootacamund) selected as one among India’s best 5 roads for biking by the bikers’ bible in the country, the BIKE magazine in its July edition. There was another dream destination of mine too in the list – the Dil Chahta Hai inspired Mumbai-Goa. Only I need a convertible Mercedes, truckloads of money and time. :)
It was about 5 in the evening that we finally reached the campus, refreshingly exhausted, charged and at peace with ourselves.
It’s been more than a month since this small adventure, but I still relish every bit of it, and it gave me immense pleasure to see that this route (Bangalore - Ootacamund) selected as one among India’s best 5 roads for biking by the bikers’ bible in the country, the BIKE magazine in its July edition. There was another dream destination of mine too in the list – the Dil Chahta Hai inspired Mumbai-Goa. Only I need a convertible Mercedes, truckloads of money and time. :)
Strongly recommended for all fake, wannabe adventurers like me, and the rest.
PS: I am also unhappy at the way my so-called blog is becoming one sick journal.
Sigh. So, see you when I see you next, which I also pray not to be longer.
- r a m z
2 comments:
I didnt read it since its too loo.....ong. But it must be an interesting read. All the best to whoever reads this :)
@esmile: Now this is what I call an inspirational comment. :)
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