“Listen, keep yourself free on Tuesday and Wednesday. You’re coming
with me!”
I wasn’t offered any more information. That was all that the message
said. It also hinted that I had no other ultimatum but to tag along. No
questions asked but no questions entertained either.
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Many hours later ...in paradise | Adgaon, Maharashtra (India) |
A fortnight later I was kicking myself out of bed at 4 AM to be able
to catch a CST local – I had to get on that 7 AM ferry to Alibaug. In what
seems like I abetted to my own kidnapping, I was gearing up for a different
kind of adventure. My first of this kind!
It wasn’t every day that I had friends sending me cryptic messages
about hitting the road. It’s more likely that I’m the one trying one trick at a
time to entice them to pick their bags and give in to the wanderlust. That I seldom
succeed is the stuff my solo travel shenanigans are mostly made of!
So to be sitting at the steps right next to the ferry booking counter
by the Gateway of India – an hour before the Sun itself had begun to make an
appearance over the grey waters of the Arabian Sea – was nothing short of
bringing my brain’s own imaginative reel to life. My friend was running late
and though empty stomached myself everything could be pardoned. I had a journey
to look forward to – a journey to a place I hadn’t been to. Hidden gems such as
these make my eyes shine with delight.
Adgaon is a sleepy fishing hamlet located on the other side of Murud
and not too far away from other popular haunts of Shriwardhan and Lohagad.
Having been to Murud frequently enough (sadly without ever getting down to
writing a blog post), I was excited to go beyond. On second thoughts, I might
have been more excited by the prospect of droolicious Konkani food.
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On the ferry ride from the Gateway of India to Mandwa Jetty | Mumabi, Maharashtra (India) |
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On the ferry ride from the Gateway of India to Mandwa Jetty | Mumabi, Maharashtra (India) |
A ferry ride from the Gateway of India to the Mandwa Jetty and a bus
ride to Alibaug town later, I was finally wolfing down misal pav along with a
hot cuppa chai for breakfast! With the stomach nurtured, we hopped on to a
shared tuk-tuk and got off by the Revdanda Fort – an old Portuguese fort that
overlooks the beach – the kind of place I’d accompany Enid Blyton as a young
reader. A nouveau photographer with her advanced point and shoot Nikon around
her neck, I stood mesmerised by the tall walls and strewn cannons. But I could see
the coconut trees sway to the beat of the waves beckoning me!
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At Revdanda Fort | Maharashtra (India) |
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At Revdanda Fort | Maharashtra (India) |
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At Revdanda Fort | Maharashtra (India) |
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At Revdanda Fort | Maharashtra (India) |
It was an ST bus ride later that we were at Murud from where another
tuk-tuk brought us to Rajapuri. At 1 PM, the sun was incinerating beaming up on
us but we were just one last ferry ride away – a ferry ride that wasn’t until
another hour and a half though! In times like these, hunger abandons me – not because
of the journey but because of the heat – so I turn my palate to the fluids; so
nimboo paani (sweet lime water) it was!
And when at last we made it to Adgaon via Dighi, I watched with my jaw
hanging loose as the road ran parallel to the sea. I hadn’t gotten off the
tuk-tuk and I already knew returning back the next day would damage at least one
heart valve! Our village stay was a house from right across the beach – an image
I had until then conjured up in my head as the place somewhere on the map in
some remote corner of the world that I’d love to retire at. But here it was. No
imagination required!
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The ferry to Dighi | Maharashtra (India) |
Our village hosts had been eagerly awaiting our arrival since noon
were glad to serve lunch to a voracious trio at 4 PM! Soon after lunch we were
back on our feet, ambling behind our host for a bit of a village tour. Before I
let the photographs do some of the talking, I have to admit that this was the
beginning of me getting comfortable requesting and then pointing my camera lens
into people’s faces! As it turned out, in a majority of the instances people
loved being clicked - much in contravention to my own hypothesis!
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The view from across our 'home' | Adgaon, Maharshtra (India) |
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The village walk | Adgaon, Maharashtra - India |
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Pile of house roof tiles on the village walk | Adgaon, Maharashtra - India |
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Getting comfortable with that camera ...and people | Adgaon, Maharashtra - India |
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Getting comfortable with that camera ...and people | Adgaon, Maharashtra - India |
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Being enamoured by the sea | Adgaon, Maharashtra (India) |
The cure for all woes – named and unnamed – lies in sitting by the
shore watching the sun take its illusory dip in the ocean while an invisible
hand strokes the firmament with tints of orange and beige. Linger a little
longer and you can also watch Sirius calling it dibs on the night sky while the
rising tide begins to gently tickle your toes.
The next morning after a poha-tastic breakfast, we made a quick
stopover at the local fish market but the catch of the day was yet to arrive.
Our hosts had the previous evening let us know that we could take a direct ST
bus back to the city instead of a repeat of the multiple in-transit route we
had taken that day.
Seated comfortably in the bus, my brain time-travelled back to the previous
day when something on the inside kept leaping for joy.
I guess I have sand in
my shoes… ;)
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Companions, somewhere in the distance! | Adgaon, Maharashtra (India) |
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Sunsets as panacea for all ills | Adgaon, Maharashtra (India) |
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Strewn ...parts of me left behind | Adgaon, Maharashtra (India) |
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Sand in my shoes | Adgaon, Maharashtra (India) |
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The route from the Gateway of India to Adgaon |
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