I'd started for Karwar from a place that's best described as wilderness, in a tin box winding way through elephant and bison country, only to encounter a small town of sorts that was Karwar!
Dressed as a tramp with two backpacks, wild haired, not to mention looking dull and dusted, i was the object of fear and wonder to the bystanders. Mothers were quick to protect daughters from this apparition, men wondering why's he wearing three quarts. Must've assumed me to be a backpacker who'd accidentally stumbled here 'stead o' Goa.
The shock was more than i could digest. A Levis outlet shone brightly with display lights and denim (i was expecting a dusty li'l coastal town!), almost citylike lifestyle and God knows what more! Too much for me to handle! This was not a place where i could sleep on the streets in the night or find a temple where i could have residence as long as i wanted to.
Scene:
"Sorry sir, i just gave away the room you'd booked!" looking shamefacedly, almost puppyish in behaviour expecting a violent outcome.
"What on earth? Where am i to go now...?" tourist pretending to look irritated
"I'll arrange a place for you in our neighbouring annexe" the female's trying to pacify the 'irate' tourist.
Well, the wrangle went on until the tourist (no prizes for guessing who was it!) found a place to park luggage and hisself for the night!
Luxury according to the standards of the land doesn't include cleanliness, and the sight of two roaches greeted me as i checked in. WTF...??
In what can be called a flagrant violation of backpacker rules (yes i'm sorry for it!) i'd checked into one of the town's ritziest places, and this is what i got! My excuse? There weren't many places in this 'town' where i could get a good shack. It was bloody hot out there. At Dandeli, i needed a fleece lined jacket to survive the nights, and it was a pity there wasn't a nudist colony here (just to escape the accursed heat!) So, the offence can be pardoned in this case!
Very often (actually more often than not) we set out with plans, schemes and designs in mind as to how to live life and make the most of it. Making designs to cover only the least of exceptions, as if we were dealing with a dead and in-animate being. But Murphy being a living and real being can throw up a bouncer or two! Here it was the absolute difference between thought and reality.
After unpacking and cooling off, i set out for the next item in the agenda. The stomach was ringing a bell and a bit of tea and some snack would certainly be welcome. Ten minutes of walkabout and i walked into one "Sneha Tiffin and snacks" or something like that. My eyes were bloodshot due to the heat, but the people at the cafe thought otherwise.
There were none but a few college girls yapping over a glass of lassi. The only snack so far available out there were "mirchi bhajjis" which is chillies covered in chickpea batter andd fried in oil. Supposedly spicy but the waiter assured me otherwise. Tea and some of this stuff should shut up the tummy's demands for a while i guess...?
The bhajjis were cold and tea was the only consolation. I hate to be procrastinating, i don't like to appear something like Ibn Batuta or Thomas Macaulay but then this is something far too much to tolerate, specially in a town!!
The overall travel or maybe those snacks started up a headache which refused to end despite a shower. What now? I ended up watching cartoons at the ritzy hotel for lack of entertainment out there. This's what happens when you're stuck in the crossroads. The place's not completely rural, but neither is it sufficiently cosmopolitan. The place's stuck in a kind of a limbo which can be cured only by some enterprising generation of youth with their yearning to match the nation's progress. Going back to the roots unfortunately doesn't work anymore, there's no chance for that. But the limbo can be attributed to the "susegaad" nature of the Goans up north (just 8 kms to the border of Goa from Karwar!). The place and the people both are content with their present state and predicament and don't want to be bothered with anything such as progress/regress or movement in general...
The only other incident of note was the epic tussle between me and a fish. Splitting headache and drizzly weather meant i went to the nearest restaurant. In this case, the same hotel where i was staying had its restaurant in the opposite building. My travel guide and advisor (not to forget my friend!), Mr.Ashwin Bangera advised me to have Anjal aka Kingfish or Bangda aka Mackerel curried in gravy with rice. Asking for vegetarian food in a coastal town is absolute lunacy and freshness of the food can be generously discounted!
As luck would have it, the menu at the restaurant was something similar to what i would read back home in Bombay! WTF?? I asked the waiter for Anjal or Bangda. After recovering from his surprise, he said they're available but not with the traditional gravy and boiled rice. All said and done, the price was double the market price! Bigger WTF!!
While tucking into the bangda and rice mix, i suddenly encountered an apparition of sorts! The fish's head was intact and the eye was staring at me glassily from the plate, as if accusing me of its heinous murder! The chef had preserved the head carefully with the eye, perhaps for my viewing pleasure and remorse...
This was too much for an ordinarily vegetable and grass eating me, and a quick jab of the fork dislodged the errant eye and all was pink and rosy again (headache however persists!) Too much tragedy and nonsense for one day and i called it an early evening... (zzzzzzz!!!!)
Dressed as a tramp with two backpacks, wild haired, not to mention looking dull and dusted, i was the object of fear and wonder to the bystanders. Mothers were quick to protect daughters from this apparition, men wondering why's he wearing three quarts. Must've assumed me to be a backpacker who'd accidentally stumbled here 'stead o' Goa.
 | |
| A backpacker stands tall! |
Scene:
"Sorry sir, i just gave away the room you'd booked!" looking shamefacedly, almost puppyish in behaviour expecting a violent outcome.
"What on earth? Where am i to go now...?" tourist pretending to look irritated
"I'll arrange a place for you in our neighbouring annexe" the female's trying to pacify the 'irate' tourist.
Well, the wrangle went on until the tourist (no prizes for guessing who was it!) found a place to park luggage and hisself for the night!
Luxury according to the standards of the land doesn't include cleanliness, and the sight of two roaches greeted me as i checked in. WTF...??
In what can be called a flagrant violation of backpacker rules (yes i'm sorry for it!) i'd checked into one of the town's ritziest places, and this is what i got! My excuse? There weren't many places in this 'town' where i could get a good shack. It was bloody hot out there. At Dandeli, i needed a fleece lined jacket to survive the nights, and it was a pity there wasn't a nudist colony here (just to escape the accursed heat!) So, the offence can be pardoned in this case!
Very often (actually more often than not) we set out with plans, schemes and designs in mind as to how to live life and make the most of it. Making designs to cover only the least of exceptions, as if we were dealing with a dead and in-animate being. But Murphy being a living and real being can throw up a bouncer or two! Here it was the absolute difference between thought and reality.
After unpacking and cooling off, i set out for the next item in the agenda. The stomach was ringing a bell and a bit of tea and some snack would certainly be welcome. Ten minutes of walkabout and i walked into one "Sneha Tiffin and snacks" or something like that. My eyes were bloodshot due to the heat, but the people at the cafe thought otherwise.
There were none but a few college girls yapping over a glass of lassi. The only snack so far available out there were "mirchi bhajjis" which is chillies covered in chickpea batter andd fried in oil. Supposedly spicy but the waiter assured me otherwise. Tea and some of this stuff should shut up the tummy's demands for a while i guess...?
The bhajjis were cold and tea was the only consolation. I hate to be procrastinating, i don't like to appear something like Ibn Batuta or Thomas Macaulay but then this is something far too much to tolerate, specially in a town!!
The overall travel or maybe those snacks started up a headache which refused to end despite a shower. What now? I ended up watching cartoons at the ritzy hotel for lack of entertainment out there. This's what happens when you're stuck in the crossroads. The place's not completely rural, but neither is it sufficiently cosmopolitan. The place's stuck in a kind of a limbo which can be cured only by some enterprising generation of youth with their yearning to match the nation's progress. Going back to the roots unfortunately doesn't work anymore, there's no chance for that. But the limbo can be attributed to the "susegaad" nature of the Goans up north (just 8 kms to the border of Goa from Karwar!). The place and the people both are content with their present state and predicament and don't want to be bothered with anything such as progress/regress or movement in general...
The only other incident of note was the epic tussle between me and a fish. Splitting headache and drizzly weather meant i went to the nearest restaurant. In this case, the same hotel where i was staying had its restaurant in the opposite building. My travel guide and advisor (not to forget my friend!), Mr.Ashwin Bangera advised me to have Anjal aka Kingfish or Bangda aka Mackerel curried in gravy with rice. Asking for vegetarian food in a coastal town is absolute lunacy and freshness of the food can be generously discounted!
As luck would have it, the menu at the restaurant was something similar to what i would read back home in Bombay! WTF?? I asked the waiter for Anjal or Bangda. After recovering from his surprise, he said they're available but not with the traditional gravy and boiled rice. All said and done, the price was double the market price! Bigger WTF!!
While tucking into the bangda and rice mix, i suddenly encountered an apparition of sorts! The fish's head was intact and the eye was staring at me glassily from the plate, as if accusing me of its heinous murder! The chef had preserved the head carefully with the eye, perhaps for my viewing pleasure and remorse...
 |
| Gouge the eye that seeth evil... |
This was too much for an ordinarily vegetable and grass eating me, and a quick jab of the fork dislodged the errant eye and all was pink and rosy again (headache however persists!) Too much tragedy and nonsense for one day and i called it an early evening... (zzzzzzz!!!!)
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