IN SEARCH OF AN ALMOST-MYTH

"We were told Ombattu Gudda didn’t exist. 28 kms and two days later, we live to tell the tale that it does."

"A piece of advice to future visitors to Ombattu Gudda: Don’t go to this place without a map and a compass if you want to return to civilization on Monday. Get map# 48 P/9/NW from Survey of India office in Bangalore. For happy hippies, this is paradise. You don’t need to work hard to get lost."

This is what you learn if you search for information on ‘Ombattu Gudda trek’ on independent trekkers’ blogs. Other blogs say ‘Villagers say Ombattu Gudda does not exist’ or many travelogues that end something like, ‘We finally failed to reach Ombattu Gudda’ or ‘We were chased by wild elephants and bears’.

These stories about Ombattu udda excited me and five of my techie friends to plan for a weekend trek to Ombattu Gudda. Armed with a GPS (Global Positioning System) device, a hand drawn map and our rations for the two-day trek we set off in conquest of Ombattu Gudda.

Ombattu Gudda in Kannada means nine hills. It is a hill range and the peak measures 971 metres above sea level. Located amidst the dense forests of the Western Ghats, it borders Hassan and Chikmagalur districts. It is named for the nine prominent humps on top, almost in a straight line.

The hill range is known for it’s wildlife, especially elephants and bears. The traditional entry point to this trek is Gundya town and the exit point is Hoskere village near Mudigere. The trek lived up to its reputation of being a tough and exhausting one.


THE JOURNEY...

An over-night bus journey from Bangalore got us to Sakleshpur in the wee hours of Saturday morning.

We, rather brilliantly, got off the bus at the Sakleshpur bus stand and not at the town where cabs to Gundya are available. This meant a two km trek back with our rucksacks along the highway —on a freezing morning. On reaching town, we stuffed ourselves into a Maruti Omni heading towards Gundya.

The road from Sakleshpur to Gundya — the infamous Shirdi Ghat highway — might as well be on the moon, if only for the craters! And the car we were in, hit a huge stone slab head-on but continued for two hours to Gundya. After a tea break around 6:15 am, we began our trek. The initial phase of the trek was easy with a clearly laid out path through the forest cutting across many small streams. Elephant dung dotted the entire path. We kept a lookout for the herd all set to sprint in the opposite direction. The path runs close to Kabbinale river.

The river bank called us to stop for some breakfast and rest. We did! Crossing the river was an adventure in itself. Pants folded, shoes catapulted to the opposite bank, we stumbled on slippery rocks to the other side. After few hours of trekking, the path got narrower and the forest grew denser. Worse, we were running out of water. So remember this when you head out. Only in the beginning of this route will you have plenty of water supply. The moment you cross the Kabbinale river, all that is left is the water you carry.





TECHNICAL ERROR


To make matters worse, our GPS device failed, thanks to the thick canopy of trees. We finally realised that we were lost! After long discussions, we decided to continue the trek to the summit. So we went ahead making our way through bamboo massacre sites, the work of wild elephants. Every now and then, fresh elephant dung got us on our toes, as did the venomous viper that hissed past us. We pushed ourselves on.

On reaching a small clearing, we stopped for a quick lunch and some rest. We pondered over the map cluelessly and got some help from the GPS occassionally. Soon, we reached a point with a 70 degree climb ahead of us. We made our way through slippery rocks and stones. Overhanging vines tripped us and thorny bushes scratched us, It was exhausting, but we continued to cramble up.

We had to make it to the grasslands on Ombattu Gudda before sunset as spending a night in the thicket would have been very dangerous. We took regular breaks to rest our bodies, which were on verge of dehydration due to limited water supply. After hours of climbing uphill, we finally saw the grasslands of Ombattu Gudda. We had trekked nearly 15 kms in a single day.


We had a pleasant surprise awaiting us. No, there was no resort with soft beds, water and hot food. But our cell phones worked! So we called up home to let our families know we were alive. We spent the night on the grasslands just below the peak.

After an early dinner, we lined up our sleeping bags and slept under a clear, starry night sky. We identified a couple of constellations and said a prayer to keep us safe from wild animals and then, we were fast asleep.







FINALLY...

The next morning, we trekked over the nine humps for three kilometres, and made it to the peak of Ombattu Gudda. It was a moment of accomplishment for the six of us. We had joined the exclusive club of successful Ombattu Gudda trekkers.

Then we headed down. Making our way through 400 metres of thicket till we saw the jeep tracks. Ah! Signs of civilisation! Five kilometres along the jeep track took us to the heart of Lakshmi Saraswati Estate.

If you get lucky, you might get to meet the owner who might help you get a jeep ride to Hoskere. With our luck, he wasn’t there. That meant another five kilometres to Hoskere village. At Hoskere, we hired a jeep to the town of Mudigere, where we got a bus to Bangalore. Two days and 28 km later, we were back home — bruised, tired and tanned! Happy to have conquered the mythical hill.

No Indians allowed. Only foreigners

I and couple of my friends undertook a trip to Pondicherry to spend our Ugadi weekend in this coastal holiday destination. It was a road trip which was decided on the spur of the moment with the intention to break free from the rush of the stressful life we lead in Bangalore city. Hence, our accommodation at 'Pondi' (the slang used by the young city crowd to refer to this holiday destination which was a former French colony) was not reserved in advance. After a long road trip and a frustrating, futile search for a suitable sea facing hotel in the main town of Pondi we decided to take our chance and find a beach cottage or shack along the East Coast Road (ECR) which connects Pondicherry to Mahabalipuram.

After twenty minutes on ECR we reached a stretch of highway running adjacent to the sea shore lined with shacks and cottages. We stopped our car and walked down to sandy beach to book our stay at the popular Aurovile Waves resort. Also, it had been nine long hours since our last meal and we were very hungry. We were told that the cottages at the Waves were fully occupied and maybe we could try our luck at Muthu's resort which was adjacent to it. With hungry stomachs, we prodded our way under the afternoon sun towards Muthu's in the direction given to us by the lady who was at the Waves.

In front of us was a stretch of beach filled mainly with foreigners. And there was a rope running from the road towards the waters separating that part of the beach from the stretch of the coast opposite the Aurovile Waves. It seemed like some sort of demarcation and there was a board with a message written in Tamil. None of us knew Tamil and we walked towards the other side of the rope. At that moment we heard whistles from a nearby shack. There were two men in Security uniform and a hefty man who resembled like some of the bouncers in Bangalore Pubs. All the three men were Indians. They made signs which indicated us to keep away from this stretch of Beach. Confused, we decided to walk up to them and find out what was the issue.

"What is the problem?"

"You can't come to this part of the beach"

"Why?(Still confused)"

"No Indians allowed here. Only Foreigners".

"What!(Shocked)." "But we want to look for accommodation here."

"No accommodation."

"(Still recovering from the shock)Okay. But we are very hungry and have traveled a long way from Bangalore. We will have lunch here."

"No lunch served here. Only Snack Bar."

"Okay, fine. We will have snacks then."

"Don't enter from here. Come from the back entrance facing towards the road."

"Why? we'll enter from here"

"No, you can't! Enter from the other side."

At this point, we felt humiliated and walked out of that place. It was shocking to receive such a treatment in India for the simple reason of being an Indian. It is high time we stopped pointing fingers at the West for racial discrimination we are subjected to in foreign countries. We ourselves are discriminating our own people based on race.

This definitely was the worst, but not the first time I had experienced racial discrimination. In the past, I had faced a similar issue in Goa, which coincidentally is also another beach holiday destination drawing lot of foreign tourists and is also a former European colony. And incidents of such racial discrimination are experienced by other Indian domestic travelers too. Ryan Lobo, a documentary photographer writes in his blog( http://www.ryanlobo.blogspot.com/ ) about such a local racial discrimination he was subjected to in his place of birth, Goa. In a restaurant, when he questioned the waiter for overpricing a meal, the waiter shot back at his taxi driver telling him not to bring Indians as they only want to serve foreigners.

It is hurting to know that such incidents are happening in some of the most famous holiday destinations of our country. It is understandable that foreign tourists constitute a Major income for the people involved in hospitality business in these places. But should that translate to contempt for your countrymen?

I only hope that the sign board with a message written in Tamil on that sandy beach off the ECR did not translate to "Indians and dogs not allowed". Such a sign are memories from the pre-Indian independence era and let it remain so. Touch wood!

One fine morning: Me, you and our dear old Amby

The Ambassador car, once synonymous with the word 'India' is now slowly disappearing from its landscape. It seems to be now relegated for use by the politicians. For years, I had believed that Amby, as it’s fondly called by its aficionados has disappeared from the cities and can only be found in the countryside. But, the fact is that even from the country roads they are now making way for the newer cars available in the markets today. The recent relaunch of "Amby" in its new avatar wasn't that successful in contributing to any revival of the legendary car in mainstream Indian roads.

For me, summer vacations during childhood days were spent in visiting maternal home near Pangala in Udupi district. It used to be a gathering of all the relatives with the entire house being converted into a den for 'Hide and Seek' games, the verandah being converted into a miniature cricket ground and finally countless road-trips to weddings, temples, beaches and 'Kudla' (Mangalore); all of which used to be marked by a visit to the 'Diana Hotel' in Udupi. But common in all these road trips of ours was the Amby, a perfect vehicle to stuff in large Indian families:-) . A rugged metallic body and well suited for Indian highways, Amby was and is much resistant to damages in accidents than most modern cars of the day. It was hence a natural choice for the elders when compared to Maruti 800 which was in its infancy during those days. But it only took few years for Maruti 800 to turn into an icon which represented the Indian middle class family. This era marked the decline of Amby. The throne was passed onto the new, small car with a weaker body and Amby slowly began to fade away from the Indian roads.

The moment framed in a photograph above was one of those rare sightings of Amby for me during my recent visit to our hometown. There was this one odd Amby waiting outside our home among other popular cars. The Omnis, the Altos and other creations of Maruti Udyog were lined up along with few mini buses and this solitary Amby. The vehicles were all for ferrying people to the local temple nearby for them to take part in the celebrations of the day. This event was connected to the fact that my grandfather turned a hundred years old during the year 2006. He was a founder of this temple in Katpadi and it was decided that a public event was to be held there to mark this occasion. There wasn't any centenarian in our village except for him and there wasn't another car from the classic pre-globalization era except for this Amby. And I guess it was a fitting tribute to their survival in the race against time that they undertook the journey to the temple together.

Realists may say that Amby is in the fag end of its life and will fade away soon. But who knows, they even said that video killed the radio star. But today, the radio is having its finest hour as predicted by the Late Freddie Mercury in 'Radio Ga Ga', one of the greatest hits by the rock band 'Queen'. Maybe even our dear old Amby and its cousin 'Premier Padmini' will have their renaissance someday too.

Images of Kaipunjal

In my previous post, I wrote about the Kaipunjal beach which lies in Udupi district and one of my popular photographs which has been shot in that location. That travellogue introduced to the readers this little known beach which is adjacent to the more popular Kaup beach. The story unfolded by describing the sights and sounds of this quintessential fishing town and then it finally led to the moment which made that photograph. Since the core of that article was that particular picture, I did not display any other images from that story. In this post, I am showcasing the remaining photographs from that story with excerpts from it describing the moments which went into the making of each one of these photographs.

"...The reason i want this to remain so secluded is because of that feeling I get being here. You will hardly find anybody strolling there. Few fishing boats - some of which are anchored at the shore line while others are trawling in the vicinity....." Read more

"...I believe that it is always a place which spins a tale in the mind of an inspired author and not the the author who spins a tale about a mystic place. It must be a usual sight for them but for me its a pilgrimage every time I am here. ...."Read more

"....There was this young boy who looked barely out of school and was trying to see if he had made any catch through the fishing net he had put over night. Dad loved to converse with him in the local dialect (Tulu). He spoke to him for a considerable amount of time while me and my cousin listened to their conversation. It was sad to know that the boy had dropped out of school....." Read more

Footprints of time

Footprints of time
Originally uploaded by travelling writer.

Sometimes unexpected moments in life give out the best pictures. When i took this shot I never really thought it'll create such a sudden fan following for it. But, it has hardly been a week since I uploaded this on flickr, the image seems to have been selected as favorite by at least seven people as of now. And none of them are people who I personally know.

There's this little known beach in Udupi district (Udupi taluk of erstwhile undivided South Canara district). Its called Kaipunjal. Its adjacent to the more popular Kaup(also spelt as Kapu) beach. Kaup beach is swarmed by visitors through out the day. They come there to climb up to the lighthouse to get a bird's eye view of the coast line, the view of the distant Kunjaragiri hill shrine, the concrete buildings of Manipal and the greenery all over in the landscape which begins just as the blue sea and the shoreline end. I shall write about Kaup beach in a later post and will not hijack the essence of the photograph I am talking of.

Kaipunjal was never in the map of beach holidays and I hope this Status Quo persists. It was just us, the kids - me, my cousins and my sister - who made this a holiday destination every time we visited our grandpa's place near Pangala, which is another town close to Kaup. Kaipunjal is just 2 miles away from grandpa's house. We have to cut across the highway (NH 17) and then take a narrow tarred road, which leads us to this beach. The reason i want this to remain so secluded is because of that feeling I get being here. You will hardly find anybody strolling there. Few fishing boats - some of which are anchored at the shore line while others are trawling in the vicinity, couple of young fishermen trying to make a catch using primitive ways and some city-bred people like me who would have possibly come down to their hometown to experience that tranquil calmness which their city lacks in. Nobody here seems to be in a hurry except for the crabs which crawl around in fast speeds and look like aimless foot soldiers running for cover.

It is always exciting here during the evenings, when you have the beach all for yourself while you watch the color of the sky and sea change from shades of blue, to the shades of orange and pink as the sun goes down the distant horizon. Truly an inspiring sight in any beach, ain't it? But it feels the best only when you are in a beach as lonely as Kaipunjal. Evenings at the beach had been savored by us many a times.This time we decided to get a taste of the beach during the morning hours. One fine morning during the last month, I along with my dad and a cousin of mine walked down through those familiar roads again. As we strolled by, we passed by a group fisher women who were off to the market . They were amused by seeing me, a stranger who took their photograph. I sometimes feel that the dwellers in the countrysides find it funny to know that I get easily amused by the sights of nature and countryside. I believe that it is always a place which spins a tale in the mind of an inspired author and not the the author who spins a tale about a mystic place. It must be a usual sight for them but for me its a pilgrimage every time I am here.

A stroll for twenty minutes and we were there at the beach come fishing village of Kaipunjal. We walked into the morning calmness of the beach. The only noises were of the weak waves. We were greeted by those familiar sights of anchored boats, trawlers and tiny crabs. There was this young boy who looked barely out of school and was trying to see if he had made any catch through the fishing net he had put over night. Dad loved to converse with him in the local dialect (Tulu). He spoke to him for a considerable amount of time while me and my cousin listened to their conversation. It was sad to know that the boy had dropped out of school. His daily routine involved waking up early and walking down to see if there were any catches in the two nets he would've set up previous night. If there were any, he would save some for his family's lunch and dinner and sell the remaining in the local market. He seemed to be content with the life he was leading. I am not sure if he ever regretted leaving school mid-way. But this content life of his amazed us a lot. This chap didn't seem to have any of those worries we city people have. No credit card payments, no EMIs, no loans, no daily commuting through chaotic traffic to reach his workplace. My dad has this additional thing which he worries about a lot these days. He is upset with his son(me) having quit his software job in pursuit of photojournalism dreams. Dad is not in terms with me and my decision. I have moved on, but he still stands there pondering over the question if I have made a wrong decision in life. This sent three of us into an introspection as we looked far ahead into the sea. When we were done, we walked on slowly away from the waters. At some point of time I realised that dad wasn't walking with us. This was when I turned back and saw this sight, which I instantly decided to capture in my camera.

Once again I had walked on, while Dad stood his ground somewhere far behind in time........