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"Its torrent dashes down nine sixty feet from high ...as if the Milky Way fell from azure sky..." K S Krishnan
Ever felt like just getting far away from the grind on a weekend? From all the smoke and the traffic jams? You know, the feeling of knowing what you are fleeing from… but not of what you seek.
But on one of those weekends I discovered what I was seeking… Hidden in the Sahyadri belt of Karnataka is Hone Maradu. A place, we were told, that was away from it all. A beautiful place very close to the Jog falls. As we set out from Bangalore for this unknown spot, we had made arrangements with a certain Swami, who was going to act as our guide, to meet us there over the weekend. We had planned to visit both Hone Maradu and the Jog on this trip. When we went to the Bangalore transport bus terminal on Friday night, we found that the direct buses were full, thanks to the crowds flocking to Jog . After much confusion we boarded a bus to Shimoga from where Hone Maradu was still a good three hours away. The rear seat of a government bus can be one hell of a ride. We were relieved to reach Shimoga early the next morning. There were plenty of private buses from there and by eight in the morning we reached Talaguppa, just about 16 km away from Jog falls. The clouds were hovering threateningly. Rain was the last thing we wanted. As we searched high and low for the said Swami, the only people we met were fellow travellers. After some waiting we decided that the only thing to do was to go ahead and head for Hone Maradu. The only mode of transport plying the muddy road to Hone Maradu were jeeps. Only one of them seemed to be available in the town. The driver of the jeep was a number of avatars rolled in one. Apart from being the designated one to take us there, he was also distributing newspapers to houses along the way and handing out lifts to every soul he knew, who thumbed for a ride… which was just about nearly everyone. Green was the only colour around. Even the fences and the roofs were green. After some time the road got real bad and there was no way even the jeep could go through the slush created by the previous night’s rains. A villager assured us that the place was only a kilometre away and so we decided to make our way on foot, through the oozing mud. After about half an hour of walking we came across another villager, who again said that Hone Maradu was only a kilometre away. After many kilometres, we came to realize that in these parts everything was either a kilometre away or just a five minute walk. After more than an hour of walking -- albeit a very pleasant, invigorating one -- we finally arrived and met Swami and his friends. Hone Maradu was a place in the middle of nowhere, the thick greenery only broken by the vast expanses of blue water. A lake paradise in the midst of the densely forested area of the Western Ghats, up river from the Jog falls. I think the trekking club, Adventurers, should, perhaps, get a lot of credit for transforming Hone Maradu into a tourist destination, accessible to some. We were there on one of their packages too. The best part of their deal is the cost of the whole thing. Just Rs 200 for a day and it includes food, accommodation and the use of their equipment. The equipment included a life jacket for everyone. Having one of those nifty things, means you need not worry about your lack of swimming skills. The adventure club is not the only way to get to Hone Maradu. But it is likely you may not be able to do anything further at the place without the type of equipment that Adventurers provides. But the club is really a stickler for discipline, which may not be appreciated by all. No smoking, drinking or littering allowed. You are supposed to stuff your garbage into your bag and carry it back! But that is I guess why Hone Mardau has retained its pristine look. The rest of the day was spent in the water. After a preliminary dip with life jackets, we ventured in with the kayaks. The blue water extended right up to the horizon. It was filled with various strips of land and islands. The Hirebhasgar Reservoir was formed when the dam near Jog falls was built and resulted in these interesting pockets of islands. It seems that there is something good about building dams, which the anti-dam protestors may have overlooked. We visited the various islands and spent time lazing around and swimming. Some of the islands were densely covered with trees and bird life. They were completely cut off from the rest of the world… Nurtured only in the silence. As dusk descended we had dinner over the campfire and later settled into the tents pitched outside. The next morn, after a quick dip, we took the jeep and headed for Jog. The falls, which are just 10 km away proved to be a disappointment. Especially after the serenity of Hone Maradu. The place was overcrowded with the standard Sunday revellers. And trashed out with ubiquitous beer bottles and picnicker kachra. The misty falls by themselves are quite magnificent. In fact, awesomely maginificent. I was reminded of a poet’s lines… "Its torrent dashes down three thousand feet from high… As if the milky way fell from azure sky…"
We were running out of time now. If we had a few more days at our disposal, we could have trekked to a few more spots around, like Yanna. There were supposed to be some great camping sites in that part of the world. As we made our way back, the one thing we knew for certain was that we would definitely be back for more. Soon. A couple of days hardly does justice to the tranquility and mystique of such a wonderful place. | |
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