|
Our longest car trip was from Cochi in Kerala to Mysore in Karnataka in a single day. Our driver was keen to start as early as possible, no later than 5.30 am. He knew his business well, since we still didn't reach Mysore until a good 12 hours later. There had been a strike the day before and this may have contributed to the roads been completely free of traffic until dawn. On the other hand, it could just be that not many people start moving around till then. We hit morning rush hour in Kozhikode, which had some of the best roads we saw in all of India. I think it also had a few road signs with the result that we eventually found our way through it. Beyond we travelled through the kind of rural/urban sprawl that seems particularly typical of Kerala, by sprawl I mean that there are constantly fields beyond the road, and constantly houses next to it, with every so often a node where the buildings thickened out into a real village or town. I had noticed for some time that our driver was uneasy and seemed upset about something, but I did not know what. Eventually, he pulled up in one of the villages and started to fiddle around inside the car. I was quite worried and wondered if we going to be stuck in this spot for the rest of the day instead of going to Mysore. No, it was an important, but not fatal breakdown, only the horn had stopped working. I had completely failed to notice that we were not blowing our horn at every car we passed. The problem was soon fixed and we went on our merry, and now much noisier way until we reached the next village. At this point came an important intersection, and, with no roadsigns, no map, and a driver who lived several hundred miles away, we had no idea which way to turn. The only thing for it was to ask someone, but first our driver had to find someone who spoke English. He was from Karnataka, and we were still in Kerala where the languages are significantly different. After the villages, we drove through mountains, where we had thalis for lunch at a strange hotel perched on a hill. After the mountains came more villages and we still had not reached the border of Karnataka. Finally we came to the huge nature reserve of Bandipur which spans the border of the two states. Driving through this was one of the strangest experiences of all the time we were in India. The road was more than usually narrow and potholed and the forest grew right up against it. It was a thick, dry forest made up of strange trees, clumps of tall bamboo-like stuff and red termite nests. We drove through it for what seemed like miles and miles, hours and hours, without seeing a single soul or another vehicle. This was so strange for India, and I had become so used to the bustle that I began to feel quite uneasy. I wondered where we were going, and how we could be going anywhere down a road like this. I did not wonder, though perhaps I should have, what would happen to us if we broke down in such a desolate place. Finally we emerged on to what felt like a high plateau, at last we were in Karnataka. Little white houses were scattered around looking rather Spanish, but apart from that it was much more as you imagine India than anything we had seen in Kerala. Kerala is predominantly green, this country was predominantly yellow and brown, and rather dusty. It seemed as though we had not merely changed states, but worlds, a feeling that was reinforced by the very different script on the first billboard we saw. I began to feel that we were nearing our goal, but alas, the car was giving trouble again. Apparently it was not as serious as the breakdown of the horn, this time it was 'only' the alternator. For a while we rolled at slow speed through the hot afternoon with the air conditioner and ventilation off and the windows open, and endured the shame of having to flag bullock carts to overtake us. Finally the car could bear it no more and ground to a halt in the forecourt of the most sterile of those roadside cafes I mentioned before. The driver, the cafe owner and Mike promptly stuck their heads in the bonnet and engaged in male bonding, while I took my book into the shade to try to cool off. It remains a mystery to me how they got the car going again, but we did eventually manage to cover the rest of the distance separating us from Mysore though at about half the pace we should have. Our driver left us, exhausted, at our hotel, assuring us that he would be back tomorrow with a properly working car. And sure enough he was! India runs on people power.... |
Indian road trips, continued....