Apu’s World

Sometimes, a really fine piece of travel writing comes along that isn’t even about a place. Gagan Gill’s ‘जो भी ईश्वर को देखता है’ (Whoever sees God..) is one such piece that is ostensibly about the writer’s desire to visit Kailash-Manasarovar, but actually becomes a reflection on myth, faith, the plight of the Tibetan refugees who cannot return to their land and her own sense of finally letting go her husband after his death more than a year ago. 

Writing her will in anticipation of a difficult journey, she says, “यात्रा और आत्महत्या से पहले, जहाँ तक हो सके, सब साफ़ छोड़ना चाहिए…” (Before a journey or a suicide, as far as possible, you must leave everything cleared up). Kailash - Manasarovar is of course a strenous journey, but its reputation in myth and legend is that of a ‘देवभूमि’, the land of the Gods. I found the calm acceptance of possible death on such a journey incredible. 

For the English translation - here. 

apu The Literary life, Travel Tales

One day every week, I attend a class to learn violin, about 4 bus-stops away from home, in a slightly dingy area. These days, with the Bangalorean winter setting in, it starts getting dark by 6 o clock and by the time I finish class at 7, everything looks dull and gloomy. So, I was thankful when I got to the stop and almost immediately, my bus came up. I struggled up the stairs - umbrella tucked under one arm, holding my music notes in one hand, clutching the violin with another and trying hard to keep my fashionable-but-impractical handbag from falling off my shoulder.  The driver took one look at me and immediately asked me to give him the violin, so that he could place it next to his seat. 

A very small and instinctive act that set me thinking about the kindness of strangers. 

Last year, my husband and I saved up to go to Europe during the summer. I looked forward to it for months, but I was also somewhat apprehensive - would we be treated well? Since we were going to some smaller, rural areas as well, would we face any trouble? As it happened, we needn’t have worried. For the most part, we met with such friendliness and help from all the people we met. 

Asking for directions in the compact and beautiful French town of Colmar, we were startled when two 70-year old ladies started walking us in the right direction. We thought they were going the same way; they weren’t - they just wanted to be sure that we got to the right bus-stop. `At the tiny village of Hunawihr, walking on the routes des vins, for some ten minutes, I stopped enjoying the country-side around me while my mind was focused on only 1 thing - how to find a toilet, and find one quick! The village had practically shut down for the day and the one public toilet (outside a church) was closed. In desperation, I asked a woman emerging from a school, if she could help. It turned out that she was the gym mistress, and very graciously, she unlocked the school and gym that she had just closed, and waited while I used the loo. 

In Paris, at the interminable queue outside the Palace of Versailles, an Italian lady extended her umbrella over our heads as it started raining. The umbrella wasn’t quite enough for 3 people, but it didn’t matter. In Amsterdam, lost in the circuitous streets, a young man who saw us poring over a map, volunteered to our rescue. 

Closer home, when we visited the Andaman islands this year, we were captivated by a plant with lovely pink flowers, at one of the homes. Hesitantly, we enquired of the owner whether we might have a sapling to take back for our garden. A young girl, who informed us that it was the ‘madhavi-lata’, enthusiastically dug up one for us, though it took her some time and effort. 

While we enjoy the places that we visit - the chance to see the well-known monuments and natural beauty of the world and explore unusual cuisine and activities, is it not the kindness of strangers that makes travel so much more enriching? And not just travel, but in the midst of so much gloom and pessimism, it makes life itself so much sweeter. 

apu In General, Travel Tales

Some time ago, we had a lazy and fulfilling weekend in Shimoga; an account of that has been published by The Hindu this week - you can read it here.

apu Travel Tales

Yelagiri Hills is sometimes known as the poor man’s Ooty - I hope it stays that way! I got back yesterday after a lovely two days spent there, walking, playing games, catching up with old friends - all in Yelagiri’s pleasant not cold-not hot weather. Without the crowds and noise of Ooty. I wonder how long it will be before Yelagiri catches up. Size should be a deterrent - the place is really too small, to accomodate a large number of people. (I recognise that this is travel snobbery - everyone wants the best places for themselves - in which case, I wonder where everyone else should go!)

Some pics here from a friend’s camera

One of the 14 hairpin bends on the way up, each named after a Tamizh poet.

A dog, who only needed some tender, loving scratching a.k.a TLS

View from Koosu Kuttai, a hilltop reached after a half-hour trek

apu Travel Tales

Once upon a time, I used to write a travel blog, A long way ahead with good friend Art. Sigh. I no longer have the energy to maintain two blogs. Which means, this one is going to be a big khichdi.

Ever heard of Horsley Hills? No? A tiny hill station on the AP-Karnataka border - absolutely nothing to do. It was one of the best vacations I had and one of the most popular posts on my old blog! So, I am just re-posting it here…

When deciding on where to go, its always such a temptation for a culture-vulture to land up at places with much to see – temples, forts, ruins, palaces, all of which India has so much of. To top that, if you live in a state like Karnataka, which really has more than its fair share of history – Hampi, Badami, Aihole, Pattadakkal, Mangalore, Udupi, Dharmasthala, Moodbidri, Mysore, Belur, Halebid, Shravanabelagola, Bidri, Somnath – well, its sometimes difficult to just say no to pottering around, and instead choose a completely chilled out holiday that involves nothing more than lazing around, reading a book and maybe on occasional walk to digest all the food eaten.

After some trips had gone by in a haze of walking, seeing and absorbing much history, we finally decided that we needed one weekend where we traveled to do nothing. Ofcourse, we could have done this at home, but if you can do nothing in so much more peaceful and green surroundings, which one would you choose? Call it coincidence, but a friend mentioned this place called Horsley Hills, close to her native place, Madanapally. Now all us snooty city-dwellers had made much fun of Madanapally as a one-lane sort of town, but it has two distinctions – it boasts an old sanatorium from British times, and it is the birthplace of philosopher Jiddu Krishnamurthi.

Horsley Hills is about a 45 minutes drive from Madanapally, the nearest town, and about 3-4 hours away from Bangalore, although the drive on terrible pot-holed roads makes it seem longer. It’s interesting to note, that the stretch of road in Karnataka is terrible, while it improves immediately on reaching the Andhra Pradesh border, where Madanapally is located. Doesn’t say much for the Karnataka government, does it!

The road from Madanapally to Horsley Hills can loosely be called a hilly stretch, though in no way does it approach the steep hair pin bends of Tirupati for example. We reached there by afternoon, and settled in at the government owned cottages, which are pretty much the only accommodation you will find here. The cottages look picturesque from the outside, with their sloping red roofs, though the inside can only be described as adequate. For our purposes though (doing nothing, remember), they were good enough. If you need more luxury, the old governer’s bungalow has been converted into traveller’s accomodation, and for around Rs 1500-2000 a day, this is much more swanky, with refurbished tiles and decorated as well as larger rooms.

The property is situated on a gentle slope, with much greenery around, and the high altitude gives provides it with lovely cool weather. It is impossible to resist pulling the chairs outside, and settling down to a game of cards, and some food accompanying. Coming to food, the resort has an attached restaurent where fairly decent food is available, with the breakfast being particularly good. We however arranged for one of the shacks on the perimeter of the resort to cook and send in food, since the non-vegetarians in the group were not too keen on the restaurant’s food. Everything in Horsley Hills ofcourse moves slowly, including the arrival of your food. Calm is the dominant theme, for humans and animals alike!

Good walking routes are available, around the property – this is not however a trekker’s paradise. The entire place is so small that it can be covered in a ten minutes walk, so gentle ambling around and enjoying the cool mountain air, is about the most strenuous exercise possible. We discovered some beautiful nooks though, overlooking the valley, and these are cosy places for enjoying a peaceful moment. Early morning in Horsley Hills is a beautiful time in particular.

For those inclined to do something more, the resort does offer a swimming pool. Large spaces have also been left unbuilt, and these offer enough space to set up a game of cricket, football or just play frisbee. While Horsley hills is a sort of idyllic meadow in the daytime, night offers a totally different face. With very little artificial lighting around, in the glow of a few halogen lamps, the place looks like a recreation of the Blair Witch Project. Add to this rumours of a tiger from the surrounding forests on the prowl, and we were understandably a little nervous.

Nothing much happened ofcourse, and after two days of pleasant indulgence, we drove back to Bangalore intact. On the way back is a small village Angallu, which specializes in pottery, with pieces sold on the roadside at extremely reasonable prices.

Faint twinges of guilt nudged us, at the thought of the calories that had been piled on during the weekend of nothing. We assured ourselves that it was a well deserved reward for weeks of over work, and groaned at the thought of getting back into yet another work-week !

apu Travel Tales