Grand Voyages, Great Lies

The small world got even smaller on the day we wereleaving mysore, having run in to a friend from the forest in an obscure internet cafe we failed to meet him and another friend outside the palace that night for the magical light up. but the nxt day after passing a chi stall near sed cafe (id left my memory stick there, we saw another westerner crosing to a chai stop, she remained us of the friend from the forest who was staying in mysore so we curiously peeped in the chai shop and once again were re-aquainted with tom ( the westerner turned out to be his friend from back home) after a chat about plans- we iformed him of our trip to gokarna-we went our seperate wways, only to bump into him a third time when he wlked into the resturant we had frequanted in the city, after our meal we said our last…and what i asume will be our last goodbye,,,but who knows.

The bus journey to gokarna departed at 9ama dn we were informed it would take no longwer then 9hrs to reach gokarna (includng a small transfer)…..a young indian man sat next to me on the bus and kindly made me aware that i would not be able to sleep on the journey,….not only because he insisted to poke me and engage me in conversation everytime i was difting off,,,but mainly because the roads were very bad. WE might aswell of been on a/ roller coaster, constant bumping fo r atleast 6hrs….it was difficultto stay seated, and also quite painful as the seats had plastic arms.

After 3hrs the young man asure me that if i was not confortable ( how could i be?) i could put my head on his lap. it wouldbnt be wrong he insited it wud just be like i was his sister. i didnt turn my head his way till he vacated the bus.

The rocky journey to our transfer stop in fact too about 15hrs,  but luckyl s the sun rose i was rewared with views of low lying mist on rice fields and later a misty lake topped with a glaring  yolk like orange sun. we were dropped off in what seemed like an abandaned bus stop. thankfull with the drive of only a sheer determined traveller i gathered my tattered mind and went in search of a rickshaw. i asked for a bus stop with a ride to gokarna, i understood he would take us to one. he took us to a corner of a dusty main road where we vacted and kate ill withered with our rucksacks againts a tree. i persisted to ask for transport to gokarnaa nd as a bus pulled up we had a ride to kumpta…where from we would hve to get another bus to gokarna…i felt like writing to our travel agent and informing him he had been mised informed about this journey, arriving in kumpta hauled ouver to the information desk and managed to get a short answer about a bus leaving for gokarna at 11am, wed been on the road 14hrs (was just breifly interupted from my typing on the beach by a fellowe traveler hula hooping with fire to the sound of drums and the waves brushing on the shore)

When asked which stand the bus would leave from the ridiculously unfriendly bus depot chief replied ‘anywhere anywhere’ helpful, infact most bus conductors, depot workers,drivers seem to think they have some excuse to be extremely rude and have power over all, here clealry to quote a previous blog  the customer is not god

(another interuption to watch a fire poi display but accomplice of previous fire hula hooping girl…..who then again took over the poi and out did the previous with a latino sexy style fire poi dance….then joined by a man with a doubled ended stick of fire- turned it in cartwheel so fast it hurt the eyes….i learn there from corsica.)

….to continue with our desperate journey to gokarna, after much asking and seeking at the bus depot in kumpta we found the right bus and reach gokarna.Since spending one night in namste cafe on Om beach and meeting our other friends from the forest we moved to dolphin cafe which costs a price that is almost a noon shadow of the tarrif at namaste. equivilent of 60pence a night.

So we are here and are resting our tattered feet for a few days in a paradise that we feel we earnt after the bones we bruised getting here. the beach is quite with a nice sprinkleing of fellow travellers, who outside dolphin cafe in the dark of the beach with the unseen arabian sea stroking the sand are playing amazing mixes of european music via gutair drum and maracas.As trechurous as the journey was travelling by local bus in india is one  of the best insights one can have. filled with old woen, men, bussiness suits and school children your hear what i can only translate through tone retrospectivley as complaints, spitting,mobile order and giggling.. you also see the morning, noon or evening wanderings,chores and games as you pass through villages and are rewarded with spectacular views.

This entry was posted on Saturday, November 7th, 2009 at 12:52 pm and is filed under india, kanartaka, Travel. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.