Bad start – owing to following people’s instructions to go to Devbag BEACH instead of Devbag TOWN! It was a lovely ride out along a spit – and I had vague hopes (even as I knew I was going in the wrong direction) that there would be a ferry at the end. There wasn’t, so I ended up riding 14miles and spending two hours to get back to where I’d started. I am grumpy and have missed the rendezvous with Darren for sure. I am bought tea by a lovely motorcyclist from Hyderabad and his pillion passenger friend Fatima, with whom him and his girlfriend are staying. The motorcyclist saw me in Pawas – and stayed at the same place the next night, apparently. I let the grumps go, start smiling again and get on and upwards! I missed the right turning and decided to turn right later on, down an obscure road (meaning an ill shod road that turns into a muddy path) to take me back towards the bridge (rather than go onwards in a large loop along the busy main road). In fact I relished this walk along the riverside, past the small hamlets of Devbag and Ambali. It was peaceful, shaded mostly, with no honking of horns. There were many birds, butterflies and the occasional monkey. The few passersby question me as to where I think I’m going, but I’ve decided to follow my map this time – which says there is a route through. There is – but the path gets narrower and narrower, and rougher and tougher. It climaxes not far from the bridge, when the path suddenly got wide enough for a vehicle again – right next to a nectar filled flowering shrub that was alive with hundreds of beautiful butterflies. There were three different kinds – and I was totally wowed. I stood and watched them do their thing for ages, trying to take photographs of the delightful phenomenon (but failing miserably to capture them – of course). It was amazing and gorgeous and worth all the hassle of the day! (Later, I find out that Darren also had a frustrating day, first by a puncture then by missing the same turning as I had, and he’d taken the same stroll backalong the river that I had –but he hadn’t noticed the butterflies. How could he have missed the butterflies? Unless I’d come upon them at just the right time?
Past Panule, I’ve ridden 33miles or thereabouts, with much walking, and I’ve had enough. I call into a bed and breakfast – but there are only an elderly couple there, who explain (in broken English) that the owner (their son) is away in Goa and won’t be back until later on that night. I can tell they’re getting anxious trying to deal with me, so I move on. I ask around for other places to stay, but one person says the nearest place is 20km away! I’m almost resolved to sleep in the bus shelter and sit and blog for a while.
However, the bus shelter is dirty and dusty and full of ants, so I move on a few miles to the nearest town and sit on the marble platform that is the town centre and decide to stay put. It gets dark and a couple of people approach and ask me where I was going and what I was planning to do. I explained that I couldn’t find a guest house and therefore, if push comes to shove, I’d camp right here unless they could suggest an alternative? They looked aghast and assured me it wasn’t safe to do such a thing but didn’t know of anywhere. A little later on, a couple of chaps pointed to a small restaurant opposite and said this was a good place to get supper. I went there and was pleased to meet a young teenager, who not only served me a wonderful vegetable thali for a very reasonable price but also knew of someone who could put me up for a small sum. She phoned said person and he agreed that he had a room available for me. I followed her for all of about 5 minutes stroll to a place which had small self contained rooms in the grounds – 300 rupees. Sorted – and I didn’t have to risk life and limb by camping in the outside – god forbid.
Past Panule, I’ve ridden 33miles or thereabouts, with much walking, and I’ve had enough. I call into a bed and breakfast – but there are only an elderly couple there, who explain (in broken English) that the owner (their son) is away in Goa and won’t be back until later on that night. I can tell they’re getting anxious trying to deal with me, so I move on. I ask around for other places to stay, but one person says the nearest place is 20km away! I’m almost resolved to sleep in the bus shelter and sit and blog for a while.
However, the bus shelter is dirty and dusty and full of ants, so I move on a few miles to the nearest town and sit on the marble platform that is the town centre and decide to stay put. It gets dark and a couple of people approach and ask me where I was going and what I was planning to do. I explained that I couldn’t find a guest house and therefore, if push comes to shove, I’d camp right here unless they could suggest an alternative? They looked aghast and assured me it wasn’t safe to do such a thing but didn’t know of anywhere. A little later on, a couple of chaps pointed to a small restaurant opposite and said this was a good place to get supper. I went there and was pleased to meet a young teenager, who not only served me a wonderful vegetable thali for a very reasonable price but also knew of someone who could put me up for a small sum. She phoned said person and he agreed that he had a room available for me. I followed her for all of about 5 minutes stroll to a place which had small self contained rooms in the grounds – 300 rupees. Sorted – and I didn’t have to risk life and limb by camping in the outside – god forbid.
RSS Feed
