You know what they say about power naps? those 15 minute refreshers in the middle of the day. believe me, they work. Go off to sleep for an hour or two during the day and you wake up feeling grumpy and disoriented (I do!) but snooze for fifteen minutes and you are up and ready to go face the world. Batteries charged, so to say.

It is much the same with holidays. Vamsi used to have a crazy work schedule till a few months ago when he decided to take some time off (not me, I am ALWAYS ready to drop everything and go traveling - and fortunately, my work allows me to do just that). We spent two glorious weeks in Sikkim this April-May and it was the first time we had taken such a long holiday.

Prior to that, we had not taken a long holiday - and by long, I mean anything over four days - I am not talking several weeks here in the last few years. Yet, it is not as if we have never taken holidays - or feel even remotely burnt out (although I keep complaining about us never going on a “proper” holiday - whatever that means - you see, we have taken a large number of short breaks over the last few years.

Here is my ideal prescription : two to four days at a time, every two months. And you are raring to go - and the best part is you know your next one is not too far off! Unlike long holidays where, by the time you come back home and get back to work, you are already in need of another one. And you know how unlikely that is. Short breaks are well, short, can be quite inexpensive (although we would not recognize “inexpensive” if it came and bit us in the shins, neither of us - we are the spoilt “comfort holiday” types) and do not always need much planning. It’s worked for us - from quick monsoon getaways to Matheran and Sindhudurg to new year’s at Goa all the way to wedding anniversaries at Ranthambore and Independence Day weekends at Hampi…

So here it is - a toast to the short break… the power naps of real life…

Each time I stepped out of the car for a break during that road trip, it took me a few minutes to feel “grounded” - the sensation of swaying ever so slightly even on solid ground was one that I got used to eventually, but never liked. But that was to be expected on such a long trip by road - Bombay to Hyderabad and Bangalore and Kasargod in North Kerala via Madikeri and all the way up coastal Karnataka and Goa before reaching Bombay ten days later, dazed and bedraggled but full of good memories, some of them unique to road travel.

Like stopping for steaming chai at roadside shacks early in the morning… Like stumbling upon a sign post leading to Timbaktu in the middle of nowhere… Like feeling the cool breeze on your face, whooshing and roaring as you drive on open lonely roads, music louder than usual, competing against the sound of the wind… Like stopping at railway crossings, watching tiny bicycles make their way under and through the gates down in anticipation of the train… Like the happy surprise of making and changing plans as you go along, turning off from the highway to explore that small temple, climb that inviting hill or just take another snack break…

Like the sense of deja vu as you pass through small towns bang in the middle of national highways, civilization slowly spilling on to the main road in search of a livelihood, shops selling everything from flowers to plastic buckets on either side of the road… Like the unparalleled pleasure of catching a golden yellow orange pink red sunset, as the day winds down slowly and lazily, the road stretching as a dark snake in front of you…

One day Alice came to a fork in the road and saw a Cheshire cat in a tree. Which road do I take? she asked. Where do you want to go? was his response. I don’t know, Alice answered. Then, said the cat, it doesn’t matter. And that pretty much defines our approach to travel - it doesn’t matter where you are headed - have fun on the way, keep your eyes and ears - and mind - wide open, and much fun will be had

 

Note - A friend later explained the mysterious Timbaktu angle - it is a fascinating venture devoted to sustainable development in the drought-prone regions of Andhra Pradesh - read here about the Timbaktu collective

The Bombay - Goa highway NH 17 is a beautiful route - one of our favourite drives. It is especially breathtaking during the monsoons when the hills are covered with a lush green carpet - it goes over innumerable small (and some quaint) bridges with streams and seasonal rivers flowing underneath them - and over miles and miles of winding ghat roads.

And then the roadsigns that keep you awake and amused through the journey - a super creative mind longing for expression within the roadways department - who would have imagined?

They range from the simple - SPEED IS KILLING NOT THRILLING - to the more complicated LIVE AND LEFT LIVE (?!)

And then there are more morbid ones - THIS IS A HIGH-WAY, NOT A DIE-WAY (gulp, I hope so) - and a variation on this theme - THIS IS A HIGHWAY, NOT A RUNWAY… I also like the cheerful optimism behind this one - TODAY IS MY ‘NO ACCIDENT’ DAY - what about tomorrow then?

The signs in Marathi are much more strict and sermonizing in tone - MOH TAALA, NIYAM PAALA which I assume means - Oh sinner, resist the temptation - to speed/crash/kill whatever - and follow the rules…

This one has an air of finality about it - JHOPLA TO SAMPLA - loosely translating into - fall asleep, and you are finished. After which sign, I keep glancing nervously at my husband every thirty seconds and pumping him with coffee to make sure he stays bright and awake at the wheel…There is also a PEEP PEEP, DON’T SLEEP, for those not fully conversant with Marathi

And there is also - SAFETY ON ROAD IS SAFE TEA AT HOME - tea or coffee or whatever it takes, just stay awake and get me home safe… and CONTROL YOUR NERVES ON THE CURVES (is this a sexist road sign?)

Inscrutable oriental philosophy too finds expression in these roads - SENSE OF LIFE IS THE ESSENCE OF LIVING. duh?

Over the next few days, we’ll pick up one roadtrip every day of drives we’ve done over the years & put up some photos & some of the blog posts we’ve written.

Today’s reminiscences are about an incredibly foolish 8 hour drive from Bangalore to Hogenakkal Falls we did in 2003 (It takes people usually 4 hrs to reach Hogenakkal from Bangalore). 3 cars, 13 people, no maps & completely lost in Kannada hinterland. In all this confusion, we had tons of fun & realised even mistakes can be totally enjoyable.

Here’s the blog post Charu had done after this trip…

And here is a snap of the falls…