Kerala December 2011: Day Three

Kochi Chalo!

After a heavy breakfast in Ponnani, I headed towards Kochi. It was sultry in the morning, and was a bit warm. The roads in the beginning weren’t exactly what you’d call expressways. Cramps from my yesterday's  feat humbled as I warmed up. The distance today was only 115 km, and I did not want to take up more than four and a half hours for this (Though I had begun with an ambitious 4 hrs.) The backache from yesterday hadn’t exactly faded, but it regained its composure after the first hour. I stopped 4 times in the first 80 km, and those 80 seemed more than 150. The scorching sun over and above the fatigue from the last two days was already taking a toll on me. A jeera soda on the way eased much of the pain, but the guy told me that Kochi was 100km. Rubbish, I knew he was incorrect, but it was already 11 in the morning and temperatures were just going up, and even 50 km would look insurmountable.

The Varapuzha Bridge

After another two hours or so, I reached Varapuzha toll, which I thought to be on the outskirts of Kochi, but the package has its own set of surprises you. Once I got in, I reached a junction. It was almost 2 now, and I was totally drained out. I was a bit lost too, not knowing where to go, so I just stationed myself temporarily in shade somewhere nearby. I finished off whatever dates I was carrying along with me, and finally decided to use my GPS.

There are some moments in life, when you feel accomplished, satisfied, thinking that your goal is a whisker away (a km away in my case), when you are jolted into reality by a rude margin. 19 km, read my GPS! I don’t know whom I was cursing, the internet? Or the roads? Google maps? Anything that confronted me passed by tainted by plethora of imprecations.

You call these dangerous?

And then the traffic. I tell you, if there is anything that can eclipse the haphazardness of the Chennai auto-drivers, it has to be the bus drivers in Kochi; twice they forced me onto the footpaths, and countless times forced me to screeching halts. And building up momentum on the cycle after you are exhausted is frustrating. It was 3:30 by the time I finally reached my destination. Worn out and frustrated, a day’s stay was in order.

The true color or Danger

There is one thing annoying about the highways in Kerala, there are no milestones for the big cities!

There will be milestones for the the smallest of the colonies, but none for what lies ahead. I didn’t see a board for Kochi till I had reached there.

5hrs and 30 min, an hour more against my target, 125 Km, the day finally came to an end.

Day Four: Kochi to Kottayam

Kerala December 2011: Day Two

The crash yesterday was more potent than it seemed. His hand swelled up in the morning and the vision was still blurry. And with 5 more days to go, it would be difficult. So he decided to go back to Chennai, and I decided to keep going.

Our second halt was supposed to be at Munnar, which was around 160 km from here, but we had underestimated the rigours of uphill cycling. And Ooty had given us just the nudge to forget Munnar, if we planned to pedal there. So the route was changed, and now it was Ponnani instead.

Road to palakkad

7:30 in the morning, I began cycling, solo towards my next destination.

The highway was awesome! It was mostly flat, and as I moved towards Palakkad, the scenery started improving as well. My excitement knew no bounds when I entered Kerala. I began hooting the moment I crossed the checkpost into Kerala, but had to shut up soon because the stares from the truckers made me feel like a fool. 

Just inside Kerala

I reached Palakkad in about 90 min, and had covered around 50 km. This was by far, one of my fastest escapades. I stopped here to fill up my bottles, and picked up some dry fruits for the way ahead. I met with similar reactions here, bike or a cycle? Is he crazy? Why does he want to cycle so much? And when they learnt that I was going to go all the way to Ponnani, they gave up on me, but nonetheless, wished me luck and went off. Often, auto-rickshaws, bikers tagged along, wanting to know where I was headed. I took my second halt at Ottamalam, had lunch here and moved on.

The all equipped dashboard ;)

The ride after this point started getting tougher. Bad, dusty roads, lots of slopes, hillocks and cattle! Your motivation while going uphill is the downhill ride that follows it, but that is interrupted by the livestock! And then I took a turn at Patambi, and didn’t realise that it was the wrong way until I had covered some 7 km, so had to turn back, get back all the way on the potholed road and reach the correction junction. This was not it, I got lot of directions from here, different people asking me to head in different directions. Giving up hope, I had to call up my friend here, and he advised me to follow the buses to Edappal, some 22 km, and from there Ponnani would be just 9 km. It was around 1 pm in the afternoon, and these distances didn’t seem very comforting, knowing the terrain was hilly. Finally, 4:30 in the evening, I reached his home.

He has the most beautiful of homes that I’ve ever seen, house surrounded by lots of trees, in a very serene and an isolated locality. And Ponnani felt a bit underrated, I wondered why it did not feature on the places worth visiting on the net. We went to the beach, had Saudi Cuisine in the evening and crashed. It was a challenging day, particularly in the 25 km. I had broken all of my previous records today, had covered 165 km, ride time of 6 hr 30 min. My back ached from the weight of my backpack, but the satisfaction was enormous.

Day Three: Ponnani to Kochi

The Pilgrimage

The journey had been planned, though not very meticulously.  A rough route had been decided. Bookings were made just a day before, with no idea whether our cycles were going to be allowed to be taken as luggage or not. Cycles had been serviced; we took spares with us; 

The essential was with us in abundance, motivation.

We reached the Koyambedu Bus Terminus almost an hour before time. We still had to confirm the luggage. The person in charge told us that we would have to talk to the bus driver, and it was his prerogative. We waited. Other travellers flocked our waiting area asking about our cycles, mostly clearing their doubts over whether these were really cycles or motor cycles. The bottles, after all, made them look like fuel tanks on a moped. The bus was delayed, by another half an hour. Our anxiety accrued. Our entire trip depended on this one decision of the driver. What if he just denied?

Finally the bus arrived, and I made it to the drivers cabin even before he could switch off the engine. And before he could say anything, I was already blabbering over my demands, or petitions maybe. The guy was confused. By then, some other bus company people came up and offered me to have our cycles delivered separately in a luggage van. No way, that was too much disconcerting. We were taking no risks, and sending our sweethearts separately was in no way an option. The driver finally spoke, and did not speak something very comforting. He said there was no space in the luggage and that he couldn’t help. What?! We weren’t giving up so easily, luggage space? That could definitely be adjusted.

With my limited lexicon of the tamil language, I somehow managed to persuade the driver to show me the space available. It seemed tight, but could be worked out. He saw the bikes, and the first reaction was: ‘You call this small-u?? No way sir, not possible.’ By then, I had already dismantled my front wheel and had put already begun loading. Ajay was doing the same. When mine was inside, the driver gave similar concerns, how will the second fit? But by then the second was in as well.

Back inside as we reclined back on the chairs, we couldn’t help, but feel overjoyed. 500 bucks for two cycles. The bus started moving.

This is what it looked like after the luggage had been emptied

Finally a much fantasized journey was taking place.

Day One: Ooty to Coimbatore