Harishchandragad Konkan Kada: In Search Of The Perfect Sunset

Few motions are faster than the setting sun
Few visions more enchanting than the hues it creates
Few moments when world stands still
To witness the last rays the sun radiates

We had the recipe of the perfect sunset that memorable evening – clear blue skies, a mountainous backdrop, a chilly breeze, idle time to soak in the scenery and a handful of close friends; not to mention the ideal venue.

It all started on the evening of 23rd December, 2010. A casual phone call to plan for Christmas ended in an elaborate one to spend three days trekking and camping at Harishchandragad! So off I went to Pune from Mumbai where a couple of friends assembled and we piled in to a car and started out to Khireshwar – the base village or the staring point of the majestic Harischandragad trek. It had been close to ten years since we had last gone to Harishchandragad and boy, were we excited! The haunting images of the vast Konkan expanse from the tip of the concave cliff (‘kada’ in Marathi) was etched in our memories and this time we were determined to capture the views on a top end camera (one of the few luxuries of professional life is the financial security it offers to pursue ones hobbies) for those who couldn’t make it there.

We reached outskirts of Khireshwar after an uneventful 3 hour drive from Pune and immediately started scouting for space to pitch our tent. A few locals advised that we set up camp next to an old stone temple since it was close to a couple of fresh water ponds and the ground was ideal – soft enough to drive in the tent pegs and hard enough to hold them through the night.

Dusk is but a momentary episode on winter evenings and night descends in a flash – more so in the rural environs that lack artificial light sources. Tent set up, we scouted around for firewood and dry grass to cook ourselves dinner. It was still a couple of hours to go for moon rise and it was also the best time to notice the blanket of stars that covered the night sky. The adamant dry grass and twigs that we had collected refused to burn; it was ably supported by the chilly breeze as both ganged up against us lighting the fire but perseverance paid and we eventually had a steady fire – our first success of the trip!

Our meager meals cooked, we lay down on our mats and gazed at the multitude of bright spots in the starlit sky. Our urban lifestyles had robbed us of this simple yet fascinating display of nature and connected us with the universe of which we realized that we were but insignificant specks. The sounds of insects and the crackling firewood added to the ambience and we just lay there enjoying “dolce far niente – Italian for the sweetness of doing nothing”. The only sound that cut through the silence was a tractor running on a field – some of the local farmers rent out their tractors to others during the day and tend to their fields at night; the perfect example of maximizing ones resources was right here in the middle of nowhere – far away from fancy business manager infested boardrooms!

The near – full moon soon ascended the skies in all its glory and soon we could make out the surroundings. The sheer brilliance of the moonlight meant that we could shut off our torch lights and soak in the scenic nocturnal views.

We dint realize when we dozed off but we woke up in the tent the next morning – we had probably entered it sometime in the middle of the night unable to bear the chill.

Answering natures’ call in the middle of nature offers pleasure beyond description of words and has to be felt to be believed! A quick wash in the cool pond followed by a cup of hot tea in our very own natures kitchen and we were ready for the long and arduous journey ahead of us.

As we trudged along the path that led up the mountains we met four Mumbai boys making their first trip to Harishchandragad. Its strange that bonds are forged among completely unknown beings when the destination is the same and there is no competition to excel!

One of the boys noticed a couple of village belles and flirtatiously asked “Kiti wel lagnaar warti Harishchandragadala jaayla (how long will it take to climb Harishchandragad?” and he received an equally mischevious response “Amhi gele tar 2 taas, tumhi gele tar 5 (it will take us 2 hours but will take you 5)!” with a finger pointing to his wealthy waist!

A good laugh is one of the best (but least used) energizers known to man and stood us in good stead over the next couple of days.

The trek in itself offered unhindered views of the Sahyadris and apart from a rocky patch was mostly easy to negotiate. A few lemon juice stalls had been set up by locals along the way for unfit thirsty travelers like us to relax and unwind! One particular vendor who first quenched our thirst actually picked up his vending gear and moved up quickly before he set up shop at another vantage point awaiting us! He walked barefoot, carried items easily weighing 10 kilos and still managed to out run us by a good half an hour!

The village belles were right and it did take us close to 5 hours to reach the temples of Harishchandragad. It was already about 3:30 in the afternoon and the famed sunset at Konkan Kada was just a couple of hours away! We quickly set up our gear in one of the temple caves; hurriedly lit a fire to prepare two minute noodles (unsurprisingly the we were so ravenously hungry after the physical exertion that the noodles disappeared from our plates faster than it took to prepare them) and were off within half an hour of arriving at the temple.

Another 45 minute negotiation with the mountainous track and we were close to our final destination – the grand Konkan Kada! The magnitude of the cliff and the surrounding mountains are not apparent till the last 50 – 100 meters; that’s when the mountainous terrain gives way to breathtaking scenes of the enormous ranges!

The sun was still up in the sky but had begun its rapid descent. A panorama of blues, reds, oranges, yellows and various other colors accompanied the flaming ball of fire. The seven of us got as close to the edge of the cliff as our legs would take us and then we dropped down to our knees and finally to our stomachs. Just our faces were peeping down the 2000 – 2500 feet sheer drop!

It is said that terminal punishment in the days of yore meant that the punished were pushed down the cliff using bamboo rods – bamboo rods because the cliff is concave and precariously perched atop the mountains; if manual pushing was resorted to it was highly likely that the punished could pull a few of his tormentors down with him!

The beauty of the cliff is further heightened by the fact that any fairly light object thrown from its edge is actually thrown up by the gusts of wind that hit the concave cliff! Legend has it that a boy was so fascinated by the wind that he hurled himself from the cliff to see if the wind would throw him back! His ‘samadhi’ has been set up in stone near the edge of the cliff; a grim consequence of his thoughtless action.

Since we dint have anything light on us and none of us were particularly light so as to hurl ourselves down the cliff, we resorted to water droplets. We actually witnessed droplets of water hurled back up by the gusts of wind – the water droplets resembled tiny prisms in the fading yet piercing sunlight!

The sunset as an event would have lasted just about 5 – 7 minutes but it has been etched in our memories for a lifetime! My friends did try to capture the scenes on their DSLR’s but we realized that our eyes are the best pair of lens and our mind the best image processor.

The climb down to the temple was uneventful. We spent the night around a campfire with our new found friends knowing fully well that whether or not we kept in touch each one of us had created a place in each others’ memories for a long time to come.
We had a troubled sleep that night; what with the uneven temple stone floor which was a haven for rats of all shapes and sizes! It was a small price to pay though for what we had just witnessed – the ultimate reality show hosted by Mother Nature free of cost for us!

The next morning the temple was a beehive of activity with many groups from across Maharashtra (a couple had even come from abroad) come there to spend the Christmas weekend. We were thankful that we were leaving for the temple was fast resembling CST Railway Station in Mumbai during peak hours!

The trek down was tougher (but faster) than the climb up; especially at the rocky patch we had negotiated with difficulty on our onward journey.

We were down in about 3 hours and had a hearty local lunch of ‘Zunka – Bhakar’ at a friendly local household which doubled as an eatery for visitors like us. “We love to fill our visitors’ stomachs with healthy and tasty food” beamed the owner of the eatery with pride. Service at its best!

It’s been almost a week since the trip ended but the images along the journey and at the destination still offer solace to our otherwise routine urban professional lives! The 7 of us have managed to keep in touch so far and we may plan another excursion together in the near future!

What did sadden us a little was the waste that irresponsible trekkers have deposited along the way, at the temple, in the caves and all places that they could access. We make a humble plea to visitors to maintain cleanliness and sanctity of the place for future visitors!

Coorg - The Scotland Of India!

Trampelling, unfortunately, does not feature in any of the English dictionaries, at least till date, and so I renamed the blog to a more linguistically acceptable Travels Of The Tramp!!

My folks’ native being Bangalore, a city I have frequented at least once a year, Coorg always seemed to me to be so near, yet so far. After all, its just 250 kilometers from Bangalore – a 6 hour journey in all. But as they say, the nearer a destination the longer it takes to get there, just like relationships!

I finally made up my mind to visit The Scotland Of India – as Coorg, or Kodagu, is proudly referred to in most of the travel websites – in June 2008. I couldn’t con any one to join me and honestly I couldn’t care less! I was hell bent on making a trip all on my own to the unknown – now that sounded like an adventure to a city bred boy (ya those were the days I was actually a BOY, when street kids referred to me as BHAIYA as against UNCLE today).

The general advice (strange that advice always comes from people who haven’t been there done that!) was that Coorg is not the place to visit during the rains; what with the extremely high rainfalls it experiences, not to mention the plethora of leeches that abound its hilly terrain.

So off I went to purchase the necessary gear – boots (mainly to keep leeches away – but leeches don’t only reach you through your feet, they can reach you anywhere!), knapsack, windcheater (I was soon to discover how grossly inefficient windcheaters were in the torrid rains at Coorg, but more about that later), floor mats, Swiss knife (though I was absolutely sure I wouldn’t be using it but what the hell – jo bhi karenge style se karenge!) and my digicam.

An 18 hour overnight bus journey to Bangalore was followed by a well deserved rest at a relatives’ place at Vijayanagar (in Bangalore) and off I went to book myself on the early morning bus to Coorg. A 6 hour journey along the express way with the mandatory stops for relief and refueling ended at the Madikere bus depot.

I was extremely impressed with my watertight preparation for the trip as I immediately located my local contact right next to the bus depot – a friendly local who answers to the name of Venkatesh and who runs a tourist agency (http://www.coorgtheguide.com/). Within moments he had organized my bike which was to be my companion as I rode through quaint winding roads amidst coffee plantations over the next few days. Bike organized, he directed me straight to my home away from home over the next few days – a home stay very close to the bus depot (all places in Madikere seem very close to someone who has been brought up in the hustle n bustle of Mumbai). After a friendly chat over a refreshing cup of coffee with the owner of the place I was staying in and with a fair idea of directions I began my exploration of Madikere.

What better beginning to this interesting journey than a visit to the Omkareshwar Temple that has a large pond with fishes swimming and fishing prohibited! I quickly moved on to the Madikere Fort and Palace and spent some time in the library chatting up with the librarian – an old hand who had the most interesting collection of stories anyone or anything on two feet could have! The sun was non existent; the sky covered with threatening clouds; but only a few drops disturbed my bike ride up to the Abbi Falls – a 70 feet water fall right in the middle of nowhere! The winding roads led up to the parking space which it self was a fair walk away from the falls; a stunning sight to behold. The roar of water and the peaceful environs were a far cry from the amply polluted environment in which we find ourselves slogging for bread every single day of our lives!

An attendant stunned me out of my reverie with a whistle that still sends chills around my spine. It was almost pitch dark and I was the only one remaining! He signaled to me saying it would be best if I packed off immediately so that I would reach Madikere before the rains caught me unawares on the hilly tracks.

A hot sumptuous home cooked dinner awaited me at my residence – bamboo shoot vegetable (my owner was dismayed when he heard that I was a pure vegetarian and a teetotaler – a tremendous waste of human existence he would have thought but dint articulate in so many words for, after all, I was his guest!) and steamed rice. The food left me licking my lips and with a stomach so full that I could barely wait to stretch out on my very own double bed.

The next day began with a cup of hot coffee in the patio with my owner. Sipping hot coffee under a make shift roof amidst torrential rains in green surroundings chatting with a person I hadn’t known 24 hours ago was an unimaginably astounding experience! After a hearty breakfast of toast butter and another variant of the local bamboo shoot special (my owner was crest fallen that I dint even relish the specially prepared omlette), we planned my day – a trek to the Thadiandmol – the highest non motorable peak in Karnataka at 1950 mtrs.

The ever ready – to – please Mr. Venkatesh immediately arranged for a guide (its easy to get lost on the trip to Thadiandmol, especially when one is alone) who was to accompany me on may day long excursion. It was pouring cats and dogs and I

was wondering why spectacles do not have wipers. Half wiping my glasses and half blinking we set off on my bike.

Our first stop – The Thriveni Sangama – where the three sacred rivers of Coorg, the Cauvery, Kannike & Sujyoti mingle. This was followed by a quick visit to the Bhagandeshwara shrine – thus named after Bhaganda Maharishi installed a Shivaling here.

The ride to Tala Cauvery – the origin of the river Cauvery – was nothing short of fascinating. The rains had subsided and a light mist covered the narrow but uncluttered path. It was like riding amidst the clouds. The entrance of the Tata Cauvery seemed straight out of fantasy land. The now thick mist covered the entrance which was only partially visible till we actually reached it. A sole priest was chanting mantras and the whole complex had a positive energy, an exhilarating enchantment about it. A long staircase disappearing into the clouds seemed to be the pathway to heaven – it was heaven on earth. The top of the stairs provided one of the most memorable views of the mist covered mountains playing hide n seek with stray sunlight that tried, mostly unsuccessfully, to peek through the dense clouds. A pole atop the hill provided a challenge – it wasn’t easy to climb; I only did with some helping hand of the guide on my backside. Here I was, alone atop a pole right at the peak of the mountain where the river Cauvery originated – I could almost hear the wind howling to the mountains and feel the clouds kissing my already wet cheeks.

We then rode towards the activity of the day – a trek to the peak of Mount Thadiandmol. The rains had once again gathered force as we parked the bike and began our climb. I was dreading the leeches; tiny blood – sucking crawlies; now was my time to face my fear! The tough shoes I bought seemed to initially keep the leeches at bay but they soon found a way inside my feet and suddenly seemed all over my drenched trousers and socks and in my shoes. I was a MAN and couldn’t show my city bred fears to a local guide and bravely battled the little

creeps. Here I was, trying to focus on the ground hard so that I land on places where there were least populations of leeches and there my guide was sauntering off at a lively pace, whistling his favorite tune. I soon realized that he had soaked his feet in salted water at home and also applied salt to his feet and legs – the harmless table salt that we use to excite our taste buds were the antidote to the creepy crawlies! He was carrying a packet of salt and that was it! Then on, I matched my guide, step for step, savoring every bit of scenic beauty every single second. My windcheater was no match for the rains and I was drenched to the skin but loving it. I love getting drenched on Marine Drive on a rainy day but this was an altogether different experience!

Photographs of myself and the scenery around all along the route made me forget the exertion on my legs – after all they were carrying so much weight on them! My guide had very sharp eyes and tried to show me birds or little snakes. Water falls all along ensured we remained nice and wet all through the rest of the day! Well, I actually got to use my Swiss knife to clear our path in a thicket – my confident swaying of the knife to clear our path seemed to impress my guide and he wanted to try it out too!

About 4 hours after we started the climb we rested our backsides on the bike and slowly rode back to Coorg. One more stop – amongst one of the more memorable ones – was a stop at a local coffee shop which, along with coffee, served us a kind of bun and jaggery dish. My guide informed me that this was an instant energy booster and whether it was just his conviction or the food actually, I immediately felt better! We stopped at local shops to purchase the famous Coorg honey and spices and reached home in time for hot soup and dinner. Just when I thought the adventure for the day had ended and proceeded to my room to freshen up before dinner I had the fright of my life. As I stripped I felt a strange feeling on my neck and brushed my fingers across it – down fell a bulbous leech that had sucked probably half a litre of my blood! Not wanting to show off my terror I coolly showed my wound to the owner who actually said “Son its sucked off the impure blood and its saliva has a clotting mechanism – you don’t need an antiseptic!” Some leech therapy that!
The rest of the evening was uneventful and the lavish dinner was followed by a good nights sleep.

The next day was the last day of my stay at Coorg. I had booked myself on the overnight bus to Bangalore.

The targets today – Dhubare Elephant Camp, The Tibetan Golden Temple and The Tibetan Village. A lazy ride along the lazier roads brought me to the camp. The sun had won its battle today and was out in all its glory. The innumerable stoppages along the narrow roads winding across coffee plantations fulfilled my desire to capture nature in all its glory on my camera. The Elephant Camp had elephants offering rides to kids and a small boat ride up to the camp. There was a board which said White Water Rafting but the local guide running the service said that it could only happen if there was a group of at least 5. This was the first time in 3 days that I actually missed being part of a group! However, I was lucky and by the time I came back from the Elephant Camp to pick up my bike which was parked near the rafting point, the guide had collected a group of 3 and another loner. The next 45 minutes amongst rank strangers was unimaginable fun! Class I rapids are nothing to write home about but the snap I took in the rafting gear itself made up for any disappointments of the fairly calm and peaceful rafting adventure!

Friendships were forged without exchange of contacts – probably everyone had come to live a life away from life. Or probably we dint feel the need to exchange contacts; after all we had the most amazing 45 minutes amongst people we dint know.

The ride to The Tibetan Golden Temple – The Namdrolling Monastery – was uneventful, but the destination – mindblowing. The sheer size of the statues and the peerless architecture was a treat to the eyes. The friendly Tibetans within and outside the temple complex made every visitor feel like the most important human on the planet – such was their hospitality. The Tibetan market with eateries and quaint gift shops with lovely ladies flirting mischievously with tourists and haggling for prices was a very happy experience. The drive around the Tibetan Village where men of all ages, nationalities, shapes and sizes clothed in traditional Tibetan attire gave the whole area an aura of peace and quiet. Meditation centres within the temple had an unmatched calm and serenity.

The long drive back to Madikere was made longer due to the realization that my trip to Coorg was over.

The last round of coffee followed by the last supper at my owners’ patio still appears before my eyes – I had made friends with people who I may never meet again, ever. They had made a positive impression in my life and had become an unforgettable part of my memories.

My endeavor from then on has been to try and create a positive impression on humans around – you never know when you may not see them again!

Adieu Coorg – The Scotland Of India!