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Scene : The largest public hospital in Mumbai. Delivery room. About 15 pregnant women waiting for their turn for a check up.
Me : Exhausted, tired and irritated after a almost 30 hours of non stop work. Looking at the clock, hoping for the dearly awaited 6pm which brings releiving unit for the next 24 hours. The photo is a month older, but it should give the idea how it is after a double emergency duty.
This is how 30 hours of sleeplessness looks like in real life.
Finally, it ticked six and I scrambled out of there. And slept. Just a moment before falling asleep, the rider in me woke up. And it stayed up.
This is my second travelogue, the first one was kind of shaky, as I was going through a lot, anyway, it is here. (However Incomplete)
Before giving myself up to the sleep, I made a point to do the basic check on the bike, replaced the oil in my C350 with Mobil1 20w50 for the first time, as I felt the need of a little viscosity there. Clean and lube the chain, check all the terminals, plugs, tires and I was done in about an hour.
Day 1
Woke up at 5:00 am and still had no plans in mind. Gathered up my gear and went to the only direction a person in Mumbai can head towards. The crossroads at chembur where you can either go to Panvel or Thane. It is like the city is even in control of your seemingly indecisive plans. I stood up to the road like a stray dog for a good 30 minutes. Then I thought, what the hell, let's just go to konkan because who wants to ride the beaten up old (yet, beautiful) NH4 for the 8475th time?
MOMENT OF DECISION
So I left. I rode without even a pee break till Mahad. It was the same Mumbai Goa highway, though it is disputable to call it a highway in 2015. Potholes and Assholes. It is full of them. And still single lane. The same old inconsiderate truckers, 3 wheeler stuntmen and thousands of people jaywalking the road.
Then I though of riding to Goa but I had done that about 3 months back when I had gone to Phonda in the monsoons. So I dropped it. Yet it was the last resort because a little too much Goa never hurts. I don't drink so I always have other marvellous expectations from Goa. Anyway.
So I just decided to surprise my aunt who lives in a village called Aravali on the Mumbai-Goa Highway. Stopped for tea and a biscuit. Not a single photo because I was not in the mood. Plus, the Sun was doing all it could do. Spitfire heat and the typical Konkan Humidity. Perfect.
I went straight to Aravali, clocking about 330 km including a little detour in the way for the best kokam sarbat. It was so soothing that I gulped down about 4 of them
At that point, it all seemed to come together. The cloudy mood seemed to wither away. Sometimes it is held true, way to heart is through the gut.
Reached. Aunty and my cousin who has a baby daughter of barely a month old were overwhelmed. It was about two years we had seen each other. It was a summit moment of emotions. Though my left shoulder was a little sore, I forgot everything else and we talked over late lunch and dinner for hours! And my baby niece! All smiles. I wonder if I would come to meet her if I planned on doing it? Probably I'd given some excuse. This was great. I am gonna do this more often.
Day 2
Did some local wandering around early morning. Me and the camera. Chilly wind and fog. Konkan mornings are stunningly beautiful. Rode upto sawarde to fill the tank up. Came back home for food and more food. And even more food. Day well spent over food and affectionate talks.
A TYPICAL KOKANI HOUSEHOLD.
In the evening almost 20 people from around the locality came just to say hello. Because I happen to be a doctor and the word spreads fast. The session lasted for a good two hours and then I had to run away. Free medical advice is such a thing. And I don't mind giving it to the needy either.
Life's slow here. Lots of Fish curry later, I slept and prepared myself for the next day to come.
Day 3
Painful goodbyes, and I was on the road.
At this point I had a sudden vibe, and I thought of going to Hampi, which was on my bucket list for long, and I always managed to brush it off because it was too much destination-like. I hate putting myself in the shoes of a destination rider and a tourist. But somehow I felt, it is time I do that.
So the route was fixed. Ride to kolhapur via chiplun and go as southwards I can for the day.
Mid Day 3 - Daymare.
Yes it is a Royal Enfield. And yes that's why it stopped suddenly on a sweet curve.
I hate this when it happens to me. I maintain this rigid piece of torque more than I maintain my own body. And still there are surprises. Thanks to RE and its impeccably bad parts and build quality. And No, I am not a fanboy. It is what it is. It ain't the king of the road or some other stuff like that. It is just a bike with its own pros and cons. And if someone hates to hear this, he is just a narrow minded person not willing to face logic.
Anyway, I found out that the problem was electrical. The neutral light was weak, the horn was weak and the ammeter won't move. Bike cranks but no spark. Plug was okay but no spark.
Fuse = Blown. I replaced the fuse and just before 10km from Chiplun, it again stalled.
I though of jumping the fuse assembly with the copper wires, but I know better. Reach a diagnosis first and then treat the symptoms.
Having spent all four of spare fuses, it went the next 2kms. Still 8 to cover before civilisation.
Till that point I was irritated beyond words. Then suddenly I saw a large tree and people waiting for a bus to come. I felt pitiful of myself. I have everything and yet I am whining why me and all.
This contrast is eye-opener in times like these. Times to get those hands dirty.
TIME TO GET THOSE HANDS DIRTY.
After a lot of jiggling around, I found out that the ammeter was shorted. Don't know why. But if I push the ammeter assembly from below the handlebar, at a specific point, a specific sweet point, the Neutral night would glow. And at that point, engine would crank and start. Mostly because a bare connection was touching the frame to complete the circuit.
I said what the hell. If I had 90 spare fuses, I would make it to the end of the world. But I don't. So I am gonna short this ammeter and go to chiplun.
Long story short, after about 10 malfunctions and stoppings midway, I reached Chiplun.
Local enquiry, and they said a guy not far from there, is a bullet mechanic. Great. I pushed the bike till his shop.
A nice, welcoming old guy. Qamar Khan. Knowledgeable too. He said he doesn't have the ammeter either. But after talks over tea, and when he learned that I am a Doctor, and in view of the fact that his mother was admitted in the same hospital I work at, he went out of his way.
YES. He removed a functioning ammeter from one of the bikes he was working on, a 1984 Bullet. And installed. Bike came back to life.
Two teacups and many thanks after, we parted. But this time I again refuelled. Not on fuel, but on spare fuses. Life is complication of an unknown disease.
THE SAVIOUR IN NEED
Rest of Day 3
I was singing aloud and seeing butterflies everywhere, because I was finally on the road and had a reason to be happy.
The Chiplun-Koyananagar-Patan-Umbraj Stretch is bad, but it is utterly scenic. The roads are from the ancient stone age, and the people are warm and kind hearted. Koyananagar is the highlight of it. Such a beautiful summit, worthy of a detour.
Took a detour to the Koyana Dam, and had the most amazing MARAL (Eel) FRY fish from the dam at the ST Restaurant. Fish and curry, and conversations with the ST conductors sharing the table with you and telling you the tales of their own highway adventures.
The view of the Dam and the river always mesmeries me. Though this was not exactly the monsoon, it is still a wonderful landscape. With pindrop silence.
Took a nap on the bike itself somewhere between K'nagar and Patan. Good sleep of half an hour.
SLEEP TIME
Then I left and rode the highway all the way to Kolhapur. At Kolhapur it was 5pm. Bypassed Kolhapur city and rode straight down south on the NH4. Averaging about 90-100 kph all the way on the wide 6-lane from Kagal. Massive respect for Karnataka Governance. What roads. Take a bow.
Much to my surprise, the regular vibrations starting at 80 and disappearing at 90kph in the past were shifted to the range of 110. So The ride was so smooth like never before. In the past, I could never be happy on the 80. It was always 70 or 100. Now it was suddenly 90 and 100. So the change was grade to 20w50 was beneficial. I was so drenched in joy that I involuntarily started laughing
ME SO HAPPY!
I reached Hubli when the dark broke. And decided to call it a day.
Kannada is a problem. But Body Language and a Little English makes a cocktail which never fails.
Me : (Stopping bikers) excuse me, cheap lodge? cheap lodge? (making gestures with hand) lodge? Not hifi? Cheap? Sastaa?
One of them : Go Raaaaani Chennamma Circle. Cheap laaaaaj.
And it was indeed cheap and awesome. 300 bucks for 24 hours. Something named Shree Ram Residency or something. The manager was nice and helpful. Free parking with security guard. TV and attached WC. Hot water. Total deal.
SWEET DEAL!
Freshened up, and went out for some real south indian food.
Wandered in Hubli on the main road, it was quiet. I went for the famous Gokul and Niyaz. Also the Mishra Pedha. But none of it stole my heart. So I parked the bike at the lodge and started walking.
Udipi hotel near the lodge. Happiness. South Indian Veggie Food for a change. Kaaaaaapi was out of this world.
KAAAAPIIIIII !!
FOOD!
SET DOSA AND KESARI BATH
The waiter questioned my motives when I ordered the fifth cup of coffee post-dinner. I replied him with a smile.
The next day was where the gist was. Hampi. The ancient ruins of once almighty empire of Vijayanagara. My long awaited Fascination.
Day 4 : Humbi to Hospet and then Hampi.
Hubli to Hampi. One of the most scenic roads I've ever ridden on.
It was so pleasantly cold, only a Mumbaikar can empathize with it.
When I started early, I was chilly and the Sun was yet to come up. And I looked at the left side, seeing sunflowers from the first few fields all drooped and sad. And with a humble 100kmph and the vast open road ahead, I admit saying to myself "Look at these miserable, droopy flowers. The Sun is about to rise, and the road is open, I'm feeling the chilly wind, on cloud 9, and what is wrong with these little bastards?"
Sometimes you need a kick in the arse to make you realise the importance of appreciation.
A lot of circumstantial ego and a pothole in the road don't make good friends. It was a hard hit, and I was taken aback by the force of it. It was so bad, I had to dismount to check any bends on the rim and any cracks on the tyres.
Somewhere in between those moments, when I was sulking over not seeing that pothole, and why,
The Sun came up. Bright and Shining.
And the Sunflowers, too. Now in full bloom, looking up to the Sun. No longer droopy, but beautiful and radiant as ever.
The tire check was done by that time, and with a wounded ego, I stood up, just to see these sunflowers, thousands of them, painting a new shade on the horizon.
I guess my ego spoke to me through this little incident. I was grabbed by it, blinded for a few minutes. And that's why I didn't see the pothole coming, because I was watching myself, being high on speed and trying to escape from inevitability of things. And somehow feeling proud of it, as dictated by my ego. There I was, the droopier and ashamed guy, who thought of himself better than he ought to.
Well, the Sunflowers didn't care. And they'll never do.
Motorcycling, for me, will never be about speed and agility. It'll always be about selflessness. Because at that critical meditative state, you're no longer yourself, but you're what surrounds you. And being on two wheels gives me a great opportunity to be able to achieve that.
Then I had to take a few pictures of/with them.
Took a tea stop at Gadag, and I was literally surprised with how courteous the people here are! This is not my first ride to Karnataka, but everytime I have felt an increasing contrast as I drifted southwards. The overall humility, simplicity, the soft-spoken way of conversation and the dedication. So different from up north. Not to be discriminating, but I find the south extremely soothing and more homely.
On my way, I called up a few people and asked for a contact in Hospet/Hampi. Someone who could give me an itinerary. Why?
Because I don't want to be another tourist with those hats and water bottles, following the guides and listening to the information so worn out, it becomes painful after a while.
As I was talking on the phone, near the Tungabhadra Dam route, at the Toll Gate, which i believe is the entrance to Hospet, A police patrol car approached me and the cops were suspicious of my outfit and the way I was changing SIM Cards from a smartphone to a Nokia Namaskar. Good Vigilance on their part.
And then something happened. This is the beauty of flowing along without a plan. Everything that happens to you is good, in a way. Because that's what is gonna happen to you. There are no plan B's.
Policeman in a commando vest :License, Papers, PUC. I promptly handed over.
Me: Sir, I have all my documents and I am here for travelling purposes.
Policeman: (Not at all impressed) Okay. Give me your phone.
Me: What, why? I haven't done anything illegal. You can't just go through my phone.
Policeman: Umm okay. I was just checking for your reaction. It's okay you're clean.
Me: (Crazy happy dancing in mind) Thank you for trusting me. I didn't ride here all the way from Mumbai just to get harassed at the entrance of Hospet.
Policeman: (Gulping) Mumbai? What? Mumbai? On a bike?
Me: Yes, and it's not much. I know people better than this. This is normal. Let's go grab a kadak coffee if you have time. I need some local information about the town as I am completely unaware of the things to do etc. And I don't even know the history properly.
Policeman: History you say? Wait.
(He called up someone and talked so fast in kannada for a while that my head went dizzy. Then he stopped and asked my name. Then again he started talking for a good 10 mins. Me and his partner were discussing the first-aid competence of Highway Patrol Personnel and the Guns used by police.)
"Yes. My wife's friend a Professor of Sociology at Kannada University, and she is on leave because she has a fractured shoulder. She must be at the Rotary Club Physiotherapy session in Hospet, and I suggest you hurry up and catch up to her before she gets bored. She has agreed to help you. But you have to scramble."
All this dialogue happened in the middle of the road, in the shadow of the Patrol Van, and definitely not fluent as described. It included bits of English and hand gestures but it was a success.
I wanted to hug this cop. But he seemed refractory. He told me to take water bottles to Hampi as there is nothing out there.
Being in hurry, I thanked him and I went away. Cops are great. I love the Police.
At about 11AM, I reached the Rotary Club and found the Madam in a clavicular sling. Her shoulder bone was broken. An intelligent lady of my mother's age. I felt so embarrassed as all of this was extremely impromptu and she had agreed to help me with just a phone call.
The Rotary Club Personnel were awesome. When they came to know I am a doctor, the chief physiotherapist allowed us to sit in his office and seeing me all geared up, offered some refreshments and A/C. Embarrassment was taken to a whole new level. I came to these people, empty handed, and all they were doing is being nice. I made up my mind to think of something to do in return for them, and took out a scribbling pad.
11am to 12:30am The Professor and Me had an extensive lecture session of History/Geography/Demography and Socio-cultural practises. She mapped an itinerary for me on the scribbling pads, with maps and all and told me to hold it by heart. I too, took notes of things in my other notebook, information which was volatile.
The lecture ended with filter coffee, courtesy of Physiotherapist in Charge, Rotary Club, Hospet. I thanked all of them, and went out.
Dead opposite, I saw a lodge : YATRI NIVAS. On enquiry, 400 bucks per 24 hours. Paid in advance for 2 days. Once again, specious room, attached WC, Fan, Twin Bed, Phone and Room Service. 400Rs is an overkill. I'd have paid 600 or more. And I have paid such amounts for far worse places.
Showered and changed for exploring Hampi. Backpack with water bottles, notebook, camera and wallet. I left the toolkit and spares in the bag. I didn't want the weight on me while walking through the ruins.
And I left, for the most awaited thing to be done.
Hampi : Ruins of an Unforgettable Era.
Rest after approval. Ride hard, Ride safe. Cheers!
Me : Exhausted, tired and irritated after a almost 30 hours of non stop work. Looking at the clock, hoping for the dearly awaited 6pm which brings releiving unit for the next 24 hours. The photo is a month older, but it should give the idea how it is after a double emergency duty.
This is how 30 hours of sleeplessness looks like in real life.
Finally, it ticked six and I scrambled out of there. And slept. Just a moment before falling asleep, the rider in me woke up. And it stayed up.
This is my second travelogue, the first one was kind of shaky, as I was going through a lot, anyway, it is here. (However Incomplete)
Motorcycle travelogues by thousands of xBhpians from across the world.
Before giving myself up to the sleep, I made a point to do the basic check on the bike, replaced the oil in my C350 with Mobil1 20w50 for the first time, as I felt the need of a little viscosity there. Clean and lube the chain, check all the terminals, plugs, tires and I was done in about an hour.
Day 1
Woke up at 5:00 am and still had no plans in mind. Gathered up my gear and went to the only direction a person in Mumbai can head towards. The crossroads at chembur where you can either go to Panvel or Thane. It is like the city is even in control of your seemingly indecisive plans. I stood up to the road like a stray dog for a good 30 minutes. Then I thought, what the hell, let's just go to konkan because who wants to ride the beaten up old (yet, beautiful) NH4 for the 8475th time?
MOMENT OF DECISION
So I left. I rode without even a pee break till Mahad. It was the same Mumbai Goa highway, though it is disputable to call it a highway in 2015. Potholes and Assholes. It is full of them. And still single lane. The same old inconsiderate truckers, 3 wheeler stuntmen and thousands of people jaywalking the road.
Then I though of riding to Goa but I had done that about 3 months back when I had gone to Phonda in the monsoons. So I dropped it. Yet it was the last resort because a little too much Goa never hurts. I don't drink so I always have other marvellous expectations from Goa. Anyway.
So I just decided to surprise my aunt who lives in a village called Aravali on the Mumbai-Goa Highway. Stopped for tea and a biscuit. Not a single photo because I was not in the mood. Plus, the Sun was doing all it could do. Spitfire heat and the typical Konkan Humidity. Perfect.
I went straight to Aravali, clocking about 330 km including a little detour in the way for the best kokam sarbat. It was so soothing that I gulped down about 4 of them
At that point, it all seemed to come together. The cloudy mood seemed to wither away. Sometimes it is held true, way to heart is through the gut.
Reached. Aunty and my cousin who has a baby daughter of barely a month old were overwhelmed. It was about two years we had seen each other. It was a summit moment of emotions. Though my left shoulder was a little sore, I forgot everything else and we talked over late lunch and dinner for hours! And my baby niece! All smiles. I wonder if I would come to meet her if I planned on doing it? Probably I'd given some excuse. This was great. I am gonna do this more often.
Day 2
Did some local wandering around early morning. Me and the camera. Chilly wind and fog. Konkan mornings are stunningly beautiful. Rode upto sawarde to fill the tank up. Came back home for food and more food. And even more food. Day well spent over food and affectionate talks.
A TYPICAL KOKANI HOUSEHOLD.
In the evening almost 20 people from around the locality came just to say hello. Because I happen to be a doctor and the word spreads fast. The session lasted for a good two hours and then I had to run away. Free medical advice is such a thing. And I don't mind giving it to the needy either.
Life's slow here. Lots of Fish curry later, I slept and prepared myself for the next day to come.
Day 3
Painful goodbyes, and I was on the road.
At this point I had a sudden vibe, and I thought of going to Hampi, which was on my bucket list for long, and I always managed to brush it off because it was too much destination-like. I hate putting myself in the shoes of a destination rider and a tourist. But somehow I felt, it is time I do that.
So the route was fixed. Ride to kolhapur via chiplun and go as southwards I can for the day.
Mid Day 3 - Daymare.
Yes it is a Royal Enfield. And yes that's why it stopped suddenly on a sweet curve.
I hate this when it happens to me. I maintain this rigid piece of torque more than I maintain my own body. And still there are surprises. Thanks to RE and its impeccably bad parts and build quality. And No, I am not a fanboy. It is what it is. It ain't the king of the road or some other stuff like that. It is just a bike with its own pros and cons. And if someone hates to hear this, he is just a narrow minded person not willing to face logic.
Anyway, I found out that the problem was electrical. The neutral light was weak, the horn was weak and the ammeter won't move. Bike cranks but no spark. Plug was okay but no spark.
Fuse = Blown. I replaced the fuse and just before 10km from Chiplun, it again stalled.
I though of jumping the fuse assembly with the copper wires, but I know better. Reach a diagnosis first and then treat the symptoms.
Having spent all four of spare fuses, it went the next 2kms. Still 8 to cover before civilisation.
Till that point I was irritated beyond words. Then suddenly I saw a large tree and people waiting for a bus to come. I felt pitiful of myself. I have everything and yet I am whining why me and all.
This contrast is eye-opener in times like these. Times to get those hands dirty.
TIME TO GET THOSE HANDS DIRTY.
After a lot of jiggling around, I found out that the ammeter was shorted. Don't know why. But if I push the ammeter assembly from below the handlebar, at a specific point, a specific sweet point, the Neutral night would glow. And at that point, engine would crank and start. Mostly because a bare connection was touching the frame to complete the circuit.
I said what the hell. If I had 90 spare fuses, I would make it to the end of the world. But I don't. So I am gonna short this ammeter and go to chiplun.
Long story short, after about 10 malfunctions and stoppings midway, I reached Chiplun.
Local enquiry, and they said a guy not far from there, is a bullet mechanic. Great. I pushed the bike till his shop.
A nice, welcoming old guy. Qamar Khan. Knowledgeable too. He said he doesn't have the ammeter either. But after talks over tea, and when he learned that I am a Doctor, and in view of the fact that his mother was admitted in the same hospital I work at, he went out of his way.
YES. He removed a functioning ammeter from one of the bikes he was working on, a 1984 Bullet. And installed. Bike came back to life.
Two teacups and many thanks after, we parted. But this time I again refuelled. Not on fuel, but on spare fuses. Life is complication of an unknown disease.
THE SAVIOUR IN NEED
Rest of Day 3
I was singing aloud and seeing butterflies everywhere, because I was finally on the road and had a reason to be happy.
The Chiplun-Koyananagar-Patan-Umbraj Stretch is bad, but it is utterly scenic. The roads are from the ancient stone age, and the people are warm and kind hearted. Koyananagar is the highlight of it. Such a beautiful summit, worthy of a detour.
Took a detour to the Koyana Dam, and had the most amazing MARAL (Eel) FRY fish from the dam at the ST Restaurant. Fish and curry, and conversations with the ST conductors sharing the table with you and telling you the tales of their own highway adventures.
The view of the Dam and the river always mesmeries me. Though this was not exactly the monsoon, it is still a wonderful landscape. With pindrop silence.
Took a nap on the bike itself somewhere between K'nagar and Patan. Good sleep of half an hour.
SLEEP TIME
Then I left and rode the highway all the way to Kolhapur. At Kolhapur it was 5pm. Bypassed Kolhapur city and rode straight down south on the NH4. Averaging about 90-100 kph all the way on the wide 6-lane from Kagal. Massive respect for Karnataka Governance. What roads. Take a bow.
Much to my surprise, the regular vibrations starting at 80 and disappearing at 90kph in the past were shifted to the range of 110. So The ride was so smooth like never before. In the past, I could never be happy on the 80. It was always 70 or 100. Now it was suddenly 90 and 100. So the change was grade to 20w50 was beneficial. I was so drenched in joy that I involuntarily started laughing
ME SO HAPPY!
I reached Hubli when the dark broke. And decided to call it a day.
Kannada is a problem. But Body Language and a Little English makes a cocktail which never fails.
Me : (Stopping bikers) excuse me, cheap lodge? cheap lodge? (making gestures with hand) lodge? Not hifi? Cheap? Sastaa?
One of them : Go Raaaaani Chennamma Circle. Cheap laaaaaj.
And it was indeed cheap and awesome. 300 bucks for 24 hours. Something named Shree Ram Residency or something. The manager was nice and helpful. Free parking with security guard. TV and attached WC. Hot water. Total deal.
SWEET DEAL!
Freshened up, and went out for some real south indian food.
Wandered in Hubli on the main road, it was quiet. I went for the famous Gokul and Niyaz. Also the Mishra Pedha. But none of it stole my heart. So I parked the bike at the lodge and started walking.
Udipi hotel near the lodge. Happiness. South Indian Veggie Food for a change. Kaaaaaapi was out of this world.
KAAAAPIIIIII !!
FOOD!
SET DOSA AND KESARI BATH
The waiter questioned my motives when I ordered the fifth cup of coffee post-dinner. I replied him with a smile.
The next day was where the gist was. Hampi. The ancient ruins of once almighty empire of Vijayanagara. My long awaited Fascination.
Day 4 : Humbi to Hospet and then Hampi.
Hubli to Hampi. One of the most scenic roads I've ever ridden on.
It was so pleasantly cold, only a Mumbaikar can empathize with it.
When I started early, I was chilly and the Sun was yet to come up. And I looked at the left side, seeing sunflowers from the first few fields all drooped and sad. And with a humble 100kmph and the vast open road ahead, I admit saying to myself "Look at these miserable, droopy flowers. The Sun is about to rise, and the road is open, I'm feeling the chilly wind, on cloud 9, and what is wrong with these little bastards?"
Sometimes you need a kick in the arse to make you realise the importance of appreciation.
A lot of circumstantial ego and a pothole in the road don't make good friends. It was a hard hit, and I was taken aback by the force of it. It was so bad, I had to dismount to check any bends on the rim and any cracks on the tyres.
Somewhere in between those moments, when I was sulking over not seeing that pothole, and why,
The Sun came up. Bright and Shining.
And the Sunflowers, too. Now in full bloom, looking up to the Sun. No longer droopy, but beautiful and radiant as ever.
The tire check was done by that time, and with a wounded ego, I stood up, just to see these sunflowers, thousands of them, painting a new shade on the horizon.
I guess my ego spoke to me through this little incident. I was grabbed by it, blinded for a few minutes. And that's why I didn't see the pothole coming, because I was watching myself, being high on speed and trying to escape from inevitability of things. And somehow feeling proud of it, as dictated by my ego. There I was, the droopier and ashamed guy, who thought of himself better than he ought to.
Well, the Sunflowers didn't care. And they'll never do.
Motorcycling, for me, will never be about speed and agility. It'll always be about selflessness. Because at that critical meditative state, you're no longer yourself, but you're what surrounds you. And being on two wheels gives me a great opportunity to be able to achieve that.
Then I had to take a few pictures of/with them.
Took a tea stop at Gadag, and I was literally surprised with how courteous the people here are! This is not my first ride to Karnataka, but everytime I have felt an increasing contrast as I drifted southwards. The overall humility, simplicity, the soft-spoken way of conversation and the dedication. So different from up north. Not to be discriminating, but I find the south extremely soothing and more homely.
On my way, I called up a few people and asked for a contact in Hospet/Hampi. Someone who could give me an itinerary. Why?
Because I don't want to be another tourist with those hats and water bottles, following the guides and listening to the information so worn out, it becomes painful after a while.
As I was talking on the phone, near the Tungabhadra Dam route, at the Toll Gate, which i believe is the entrance to Hospet, A police patrol car approached me and the cops were suspicious of my outfit and the way I was changing SIM Cards from a smartphone to a Nokia Namaskar.
Good Vigilance on their part.And then something happened. This is the beauty of flowing along without a plan. Everything that happens to you is good, in a way. Because that's what is gonna happen to you. There are no plan B's.
Policeman in a commando vest :License, Papers, PUC. I promptly handed over.
Me: Sir, I have all my documents and I am here for travelling purposes.
Policeman: (Not at all impressed) Okay. Give me your phone.
Me: What, why? I haven't done anything illegal. You can't just go through my phone.
Policeman: Umm okay. I was just checking for your reaction. It's okay you're clean.
Me: (Crazy happy dancing in mind) Thank you for trusting me. I didn't ride here all the way from Mumbai just to get harassed at the entrance of Hospet.
Policeman: (Gulping) Mumbai? What? Mumbai? On a bike?
Me: Yes, and it's not much. I know people better than this. This is normal. Let's go grab a kadak coffee if you have time. I need some local information about the town as I am completely unaware of the things to do etc. And I don't even know the history properly.
Policeman: History you say? Wait.
(He called up someone and talked so fast in kannada for a while that my head went dizzy. Then he stopped and asked my name. Then again he started talking for a good 10 mins. Me and his partner were discussing the first-aid competence of Highway Patrol Personnel and the Guns used by police.)
"Yes. My wife's friend a Professor of Sociology at Kannada University, and she is on leave because she has a fractured shoulder. She must be at the Rotary Club Physiotherapy session in Hospet, and I suggest you hurry up and catch up to her before she gets bored. She has agreed to help you. But you have to scramble."
All this dialogue happened in the middle of the road, in the shadow of the Patrol Van, and definitely not fluent as described. It included bits of English and hand gestures but it was a success.
I wanted to hug this cop. But he seemed refractory. He told me to take water bottles to Hampi as there is nothing out there.
Being in hurry, I thanked him and I went away. Cops are great. I love the Police.
At about 11AM, I reached the Rotary Club and found the Madam in a clavicular sling. Her shoulder bone was broken. An intelligent lady of my mother's age. I felt so embarrassed as all of this was extremely impromptu and she had agreed to help me with just a phone call.
The Rotary Club Personnel were awesome. When they came to know I am a doctor, the chief physiotherapist allowed us to sit in his office and seeing me all geared up, offered some refreshments and A/C. Embarrassment was taken to a whole new level. I came to these people, empty handed, and all they were doing is being nice. I made up my mind to think of something to do in return for them, and took out a scribbling pad.
11am to 12:30am The Professor and Me had an extensive lecture session of History/Geography/Demography and Socio-cultural practises. She mapped an itinerary for me on the scribbling pads, with maps and all and told me to hold it by heart. I too, took notes of things in my other notebook, information which was volatile.
The lecture ended with filter coffee, courtesy of Physiotherapist in Charge, Rotary Club, Hospet. I thanked all of them, and went out.
Dead opposite, I saw a lodge : YATRI NIVAS. On enquiry, 400 bucks per 24 hours. Paid in advance for 2 days. Once again, specious room, attached WC, Fan, Twin Bed, Phone and Room Service. 400Rs is an overkill. I'd have paid 600 or more. And I have paid such amounts for far worse places.
Showered and changed for exploring Hampi. Backpack with water bottles, notebook, camera and wallet. I left the toolkit and spares in the bag. I didn't want the weight on me while walking through the ruins.
And I left, for the most awaited thing to be done.
Hampi : Ruins of an Unforgettable Era.
Rest after approval. Ride hard, Ride safe. Cheers!
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