xBHP guidelines encourage you to upload travelogues with more photo content and less writing. This travelogue grossly violates that guideline. Primarily, because I'm an idiot for not clicking many photos and also because my photography skills have a lot to be desired. And so, I'm compensating the lack of visual content by translating what would have been pictures into words. Anyway now that we're done with the disclaimer let us begin.
Its 05:45 hrs. Santosh and me are hurtling down NH4 (Old Bombay-Pune Highway) with our motorcycles engines shrieking away, shattering the silence of the otherwise dark and desolate highway. We were covering ground quickly in spite of the bone chilling cold, which had started to make my teeth chatter and my hands to shiver uncontrollably. We left Andheri at 04:30 hrs and a hour and half later weâre on the expressway section a few kilometers from Lonavala. The destination, Hampi.
This bike ride had been a long time coming.
I completed my PG in April â15 and managed to get placed in an ad agency where I would start work in the first week of May. There was a two and a half week period between the final interview and the joining date. Now I did not want these two weeks to go to waste, considering that in a fortnight I would be ensnared by the corporate world and join the thousands of young Indians hypnotized by the prospects of making it big and raking in the moolah.
Over the past two years, I had developed a strong urge to do a long ass bike ride. I had not fixed a destination but I had fixed the direction, south. I do not know why but I was drawn to the prospect of riding to a location in southern India. Maybe with my brown ranng complexion, I just wanted to blend in with the locals and not look like a tourist, still donât know. So, I started my research and drew up an itinerary for the trip. The tour included a ride to Goa and from there on to Hampi, then Bangalore and head back to Bombay. That weekend I booked an appointment with my mechanic to do a full service on my bike. I did not want Saphira (My 4yr old Pulsar 150) breaking down on me, mid-journey.
So, I arrive at the mechanics garage at 10:00 AM. Now this was supposed to be a standard run-of-the-mill service and I was expecting to be done with it before lunch. I had even planned the rest of my evening, grab a few beers and salivate about the prospect about spending the next few days road tripping. But then Murphyâs Law decides to rear its ugly head. An hour into the servicing Saphira looked something like thisâ¦
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Completely stripped to the frame. Open-heart surgery you could say.
Whatever could go wrong, did go wrong with Saphira. Firstly, the bore and piston needed replacement because her engine was consuming oil like a binge drinking college kid on a Friday night at the club. Then there was the Carburetor, which much like the human appendix had rendered itself useless and wasnâtâ doing its job well. Riding to Hampi looked like a distant dream now. Not only were the repairs going to leave my wallet a lot lighter, but I had to also baby Saphira for the next 1,500 Kms to let the new parts set in. I felt like one of those half-deflated balloons that lie around the ground after a partyâs over. After two mundane weeks of sulking in Bombay, I started my new job on a very uninspiring note.
Fast forward to August â15. I had spent 4 months at my workplace and was already feeling the urge to drop everything and head out for the bike ride that never happened. Better sense prevailed and as a new employee, I wasnât left with much of a choice. I was just getting into the grind of my new workplace and asking for a weeklong holiday now would be akin to asking my manager for a 100% raise. So days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months. Then one day while I was casually standing in the office pantry staring aimlessly at my lunch do circles in the microwave, I noticed a sheet of paper plastered on the wall. The heading read âOFFICIAL HOLIDAY LISTâ. I was intrigued to know if there was a long weekends somewhere in there. A few seconds later BOOM, my mind was blown. There was an official 5 day long weekend in November, the Diwali break. I think I punched a hole in the wall out of excitement (no I did not) and forgot all about my lunch in the microwave, which by now was making the beeping sound asking me to take my food and leave. The chance of a 5 day long weekend is rare and I was going to grab this opportunity by the handlebars, lol.
November 3
rd, There were Diwali celebrations at work and hardly any work was done. I for one could not get my mind off the fact that by this time tomorrow Iâd be riding to Hampi. I was lucky to have a fellow biker, Santosh who was planning on riding south too and we merged our plans. That evening just as I begin wrapping up work (pretended to actually, because not much âworkingâ happened anyway) I get a call from Santosh saying he canât make it as his leave has been disapproved.
SHIT! My mind went into panic mode. I had done some research on the trip and the destination but I had not planned on doing it solo. My scattered mind already began thinking of weird shit like how awkward I am with strangers, how do I finish a large chicken fried rice with Manchurin gravy on my own, what book should I take with me to avoid eye contact with others while eating alone at restaurants in Hampi etc etc.. Thankfully, about an hour later while my mind is still thinking of every weird permutation & combination I get a call from Santosh saying heâs managed to get leave. Emotional rollercoster that was. I had already packed my luggage by then and the first thing I do is pull out âThe Fountainhead - Ayn Randâ and put it back on the bookshelf. No need for that now!
Ride Day-1 (4th Nov â15) Bombay-Hampi 15 hrs
The alarm I set goes off at 03:30 hrs, however my eyes were already wide open. Barely managed to get sleep that night with all the excitement. I dress up and bid goodbye to my family. Secured the luggage to the bike & set out for the rendezvous point. Santosh shows up in a few mins and by 04:30 hrs we set out from Andheri and made our way towards NH-4, the highway weâd be spending the next 12 hrs riding on. Once we were out of the city and on the Panvel bypass, the temperature plummeted and the wind chill started to affect me. The positive was that I could push Saphiraâs air-cooled engine and she wouldnât overheat harder and the chilly air would keep her cool. This helped us cover ground faster. As we entered Lonavala, the first rays of sunrise started to break through the navy-blue sky making for one of the most beautiful sunrises Iâve seen yet.
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After a few years on the saddle, Iâve started to believe that sunrises make for far more beautiful vistas than sunsets. Majestic sunrises are natureâs way of saying âHave a kickass dayâ. But I guess people dig sunsets over sunrises because letâs face it, weâre all lazy and weâd rather be making sweet love to our bed at 6 AM rather than be outside watching the sun put on a show for us. After clicking a few pics and taking in the beautiful sunrise, we fired up our engines and were back at cruising speed. Our next halt would be on the outskirts of Pune.
The NH-4 section between Bombay to Pune is a pleasure to ride on and even though Iâve ridden on it more times than I can count, the enjoyment is no less than the first time I rode on it. Smooth tarmac, long curves, low traffic and the steep ghat section make it one of my favorite highways connecting Bombay. It was now 06:30 hrs and we were now speeding down the Pune bypass road weaving in and out of the countless diversions thanks to the flyovers that have been under construction for as long as I can remember. Instead of taking a break on the outskirts on the south of Pune we decided to move on since we were covering good ground and didnât want to break the rhythm.
About an hrs distance from Pune, Santosh indicated that we should stop for some breakfast. Ahhhh, man was I relieved. Not only was I hungry but the cold had started to get to me, and Iâd have turned into a popsicle if we rode on for any longer. We stopped for breakfast at Sahyadri Hotel at the base of the ghat section before Surur. We went through the usual scene that greets most geared up bikers when they enter an eatery. People staring and pointing at us, some of them doing a a full 360 degree neck turn to have a glimpse of these two geared up motorcyclists. There were just 2-3 breakfast items Poha, Missal Pav and sabudana vadas. These parts of Maharashtra are well known for making their Missal Pav so hot & spicy that it may just burn you a new butth**e once your done eating. Since thereâs nothing like a painful bout of diarrhea to ruin a trip, I played safe and ordered the Poha. The Poha served was delicious, the rice was nice and fluffy, well flavoured and sprinkled with a generous portion of charred peanuts which I love. I enjoyed every bit of it. I also chugged copious amounts of tea trying to get my insides warm again and reverse the âturning into a popsicleâ process. By 08:30 hrs, after like a gazillion cups of chai and basking in the sun for warmth I was de-popsiclised we were back on the saddle. I was excited and I guess Santosh was too as the immediate highway section after the breakfast joint was a ghat section. Now ghat sections are where most motorcyclists lose their shit (in a good way and sadly sometimes bad). To put it crudely, a curvy road gets us as excited as a woman with curves. Soon enough, Santosh and me began zipping up the ascending ghat leaning in and out of the short and tight corners with just my helmet concealing my wide-ass grins from the rest of the motorists. In about 30 mins of intense cornering we were done with the ghat section and what now lay ahead was the most boring section of NH-4. When I say boring, Iâm talking about us tourers on our puny 150cc air cooled motorcycles. On these long arrow straight sections of tarmac, Saphira never misses an opportunity to remind me that she isnât cut out to be an inter-state cruiser. These reminders take the form of engine overheating, loss in acceleration, nosier engine and just a whole lot of riding unpleasantness. Regardless, we push on with Santosh gesturing me to ride faster whenever I start slacking.
And so, we begin the mile munching while taking in the beautiful scenery. We passed the lush green sugarcane fields that dot both sides of the roads on the Wai-Satara-Kholapur stretch. As we were riding we began to see a lot of families on motorcycles sometimes riding 4 up with luggage strapped to the sides ambling along the highway as though this is an everyday ritual. At first I was wondering where were they all headed? Mass migration? Escaping a Zombie apocalypse that we donât know about? It then occurred to me that we were not the only ones making the most of this 5 day long weekend. A lot of these families were heading to their hometowns for Diwali on their small 100cc motorcycles. This really humbled us, for we look at motorcycling as a means to exploring and venting stress while here there are people who canât afford any other mode of transport and so theyâre stuck with motorcycles even if it involves traveling large distances with 4 people on a motorcycle.
It was around 12:00 AM now and we had just passed Kholapur and things were really starting to get boring, the arrow straight highway, Saphiraâs engine running hot and the ambient temperature starting to rise, our pace had come down too. But things suddenly got âinterestingâ although only for a few seconds. I was riding at about 80kmph in the left lane behind another car with Santosh trailing behind me. Suddenly a Force Cruiser, with what looked to be carrying an entire village (these force cruiser drivers laugh in the face of seating capacity regulations) overtakes us on the right. I guess when passing us, the driver seen the boredom in our eyes and was like âHey, I got you bruhâ. All of a sudden, he pulls to the left lane and cuts the vehicle that we were riding behind. Shit.Hit.The.Fan. The car in front of me breaks hard to avoid rear ending the force cruiser. I drop anchors hoping that Iâm able to loose speed and not end up splattered on the rear windscreen of the car ahead. Fortunately, I managed to shed the speed so I immediately look into my rear view mirror to see how Santosh is doing and lo and behold, heâs approaching my backside like a cruise missile. I clench my fist on the handlebars and prepare myself for getting real intimate with Santosh and his motorcycle. I hear his brakes squeal under pressure and the intermittent sound of a tyre losing grip and then a flash of yellow passing me on the right. Whew! He managed to break and maneuver his way out of the way. Hallelujah ABS! (Iâm going to take this small anecdote to deviate from the log and advocate the importance of ABS.)
Dear Reader, If and when you are purchasing a motorcycle or even a car for that matter, do make sure it comes with this magical little device called ABS. Yes, it is an expensive option. But we live in a country where the roads also double up as a gathering spot for cows, dogs and even the odd monkey [yes, seen two monkeys splattered across the road on this trip). Then thereâs also those Indian drivers channeling their inner Schumacher on public roads. Basically, our roads take unpredictability to a whole new level and the ABS acts as a good safety net. ABS SAVES LIVES.
If at the end of this Public service announcement, you are in agreement with my POV but youâre thinking âBhai, good shit. But ABS kya hai?â Click on this link and educate yourself: LINKS
*Back to the travelogue*
After that shit-your-pants incident, Santosh and me decided to stop for Sugarcane juice and give ourselves a small break. So we stop at this small shop next to a petrol pump. I order the juice and began to take off my gear. And here for the first time I experienced Santoshâs is superstar status or more like his bikeâs superstar status. These two men loitering around walked up to Santosh and started chatting. Intrigued, I tuned into the conversation and they were really interested in his bike. Santoshâs RS 200 was relatively new to these parts of India and the local men would be drawn to it like bees to honey. While they went on discussing manly things like engine capacity, top speed, mileage, price etc⦠Me and Saphira sulked on the shoulder of the road, disappointed with the lack of attention we were given.
After downing the juice, we got back on the saddle and decided that our next stop would be lunch. A few hours later, we had just crossed the city of Belgaum and we began keeping our eye out for a decent dhaba. It was already 15:00 hrs and the hunger pangs were really kicking in. It was a good half an hour later that we arrived at an inconspicuous little town called Hire Bagewadi. The eatery options here were limited so we settled for a hole-in-the-wall eatery. There werenât a lot of options on the menu too. Actually, there were just two options. Masala dosa or Uthappa. We order both items on the menu and proceeded to rest our butts on the hard wooden benches. Contrary to popular logic, after almost 10 hrs on the soft saddle, these hard wooden benches were a blessing. The moment the wooden bench met the sore butt, was pure nirvana. Butt soreness aside, Santosh requested the waiter if there was any starter that he could whip up immediately. The waiter stared at us blankly for a second and then excitedly ran in the direction of the kitchen. A minute later he brings outâ¦
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Chilli flavoured kurmura topped with sev, onions and what looked to be two big brown karela looking things. We dug in immediately and it turned to be delicious! The brown karela things turned out to be batter fried chillis. We also ordered two Masala dosas but I didn't click any photos because hunger took over and we just gobbled them down.
Butts rested and stomachs stuffed, we got back on the road with the next waypoint set at Hubli where we planned to refuel and make a non-stop dash for Hampi. The ride from here on was lovely. Perfectly paved roads, an overcast sky and cool weather made the ride a breeze. We stopped just outside Hubli to get our bearings correct. It was already around 16:00 hrs and we were behind schedule. We still had around 180 KMS of state highway to go and this meant that weâd be riding well after the sun goes down. This is something we both were hoping to avoid. Bearings set, we then proceeded to enter the town of Hubli and stopped at a petrol pump to refill our bikes bellies one last time as we werenât sure of the availability of petrol pumps after Hubli. Again, like clockwork. People started to gather around Santoshâs bike at the petrol pump and just stare at it. Iâm pretty sure the pump attendant filling fuel in Santoshâs bike felt really privileged to be bestowed with this honor. Lol. We leave Santoshâs fans behind and proceed to the heart of the city from where we were supposed to take the Hubli-Gadag road. The outskirts of the town gave me the impression that Hubli was a quaint little town but I was so wrong. It was more like crazy town. We were passing through rush-hour and there it was utter chaos on the road. People coming outta nowhere, motorcyclists and autos all over the place coming at you with full speed.
We finally managed to make it out of Hubli, but in the melee we ended up getting lost. We had taken the wrong exit from the city and 20 mins later were amidst the presence of towering windmills.
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The peculiar thing about this windmill farm is that they were at ground level. Almost all windmills I have seen till date have been constructed at higher elevation like hills or mountain ranges because of the higher wind speeds at those altitudes. Santosh and me would later find out why these windmills are so âdown to earthâ. After we were done with clicking photos, we got to the task at hand, finding the directions to Hampi. We asked a few locals that passed us by about the directions to Hampi. Even though we were just about 150 Kms from Hampi, most of them gave us very perplexed looks when asked, like they had never heard about the place. We decided to just wing it and head in the direction we thought Hampi was. After riding for a while we found ourselves on a two lane highway with the roads signs marking Hampi to be 100 KMS away. It was on this road that I got my answer to why the windmills were built at ground level. This section of the highway was windy as f**k. What made things worse is the wind was not just a uni-directional wind but it was changing direction at random intervals. One moment the wind was pushing your bike towards the right and all of a sudden it would stop and push you from the front and you would momentarily loose balance. This I think made Santosh and me quite a comical sight on the road trying to keep our bikes from dancing with the wind. I guess the windiness had something to do with the fact that the land on either side of the roads was completely flat as far as the eye can see with no trees or rocky outcrops to act as a windbreaker. Regardless we push on like cowboys on our bucking broncos.
It was around 18:00 hrs when the sun began to set. The windy section of the highway was now behind us but it had tired us out. We continued to ride at high speed to cover as much distance while there were still a few rays of sunlight. In the horizon we could see the silhouette of those rock formations that are unique to Hampi so we knew we were now very close and this spurred us on. By now, it had become pitch dark. Our headlights lit up the periphery of the road and we began to see the subtle outlines of ancient structures along the side of the road. The road even passed through an ancient gateway structure. We now knew we had entered Hampi and our destination was just a few Kms away. Soon enough, we could hear the hustle and bustle people of Hampiâs bus depot/ market. As soon as we stopped and put our foot down a bunch of middle aged local men started running towards began fighting for our attention like we were attractive young women. Turns out they were hotel touts and they we really concerned if we would have a roof over heads for the night. (Actually, they were only interested in their commission). Once we made our budget clear, our attractiveness too faded away and half the men walked away. After a bit of haggling, we managed to bag a room with wifi for Rs 300 for the two of us. Pretty sweet deal. So we make our way to the hotel which was just off the Hampi bazaar. The room was pretty basic and was equipped with the bare necessities which and was ok for two guys willing to rough it out. We had quick showers and then headed out for dinner. As we walked around checking out restaurants, we realized that there werenât any non-veg or alcohol options. Turns out, our hotel was located in the sanskari part of Hampi which is south of the Tungabhadra river. For all anti-sanskari activities one has to head to the part of Hampi located north of the river which we were going to do tomorrow. We finally settled for dinner in a quaint Tibetan restaurant, and ordered a couple plates of veg momos. Being extremely tired we headed straight to bed post dinner.
Tomorrow we were going to explore Hampi. (And unlike the first day, I did click a lot more photos)
