The 29 kilometer drive to Nilambur was started at around 0645, with my cousin bro as the pillion rider. The early morning coolness ensured that he would not be obliging me with the customary singing that I force out of any pillion rider riding for some distance with me. I am sure that he had to preserve his vocals for a better audience. Remnants of those swirling mists which fascinated me yesterday were lingering on as we drove through Manjeri Town, which was waking up to a new day. The road was as ever in excellent condition however the instructions from the aunt kept me from going full throttle through the nearly deserted roads.
Gentle banking, lush fields and glimpses of distant mountains, their peaks hidden by mist, all these idyllic settings defined the drive to Nilambur. With my cousin bro obliging me by taking pics of the drive from pillion, we drove on through Edevanna, Mampad and Vadapuram. While passing through these towns one was extremely careful. Early morning and sleepy autorickshaw drivers is a very dangerous combinations. These self proclaimed kings of urban roads are driven by people who are trained to never even hear about words like "indicator", "signal", "careful driving" etc. Leaving the towns I could relax better.
The most memorable part of this drive had been the long bridge across Chaliyar River at Edavanna which one passed by on the route to Nilambur. Seeing that road which led to Areacode, I had decided that one day I shall ride along that road. High above the swift flowing Chaliyar Rievr that was a really captivating bridge.
The thickening woods along the sides of the road indicated to me that Nilambur is finally nearing. Passing the Conolly's Plot we entered Nilambur proper and at the suggestion of my cousin bro I drove up a steep inclined country road to reach Nilambur Kovilakam. I had dreamt for ages, driving down this road, through this archway and to the front of the Vettakorumakan Temple.
Having had the key of the bike anointed inside the shrine through my cousin, we drove the few yards to the banks of Chaliyar River. There is a height of several meters from the banks to the rapidly swirling waters of Chaliyar which is usually reached through several flights of worn out steps and trekking across the massive boulders of the riverside. I did not go down to the river, just to a few landings down where there was an excellent vantage point. The view of Bakamala, has always been of a remarkable nature. Legends and stories heard from childhood speak about the Bakasura of Mahabharata, who was killed by Bhima and was lying down in death in the form of those mountains. Indeed the profile of the distant Nilgiris mountains resembled a fearsome face lying in repose.
After a light breakfast and collecting "Appam" (sweet temple offering) at a relative's house we set on the return journey back to Manjeri. A small stop at a large clearing by the side of the road outside Nilambur gave me opportunity for a few more clicks. By this time the sun had risen up and the day had turned quite sunny and I was itching to get back on the road.
The thickening traffic ensured that the ride would be far from monotonous and with my cousin bro distracted over his MP3 player, I enjoyed the roads a bit more by touching near 60's speed in some of the more freer roads.
Having arrived back at Manjeri, I decided not to linger on. A more heavier breakfast followed and I made my leave from Manjeri. After the low visibility driving of the past day, the ride in such sunny conditions permitted me to more thoroughly enjoy the surroundings. Though I occasionally prodded the adrenaline glands by letting loose the throttle, it had been a more cautious day of riding. In good weather people generally drive more brashly and that is always to be feared.The ride through Malappuram and Kottakkal were unremarkable though the excellent quality roads enabled me to drive at a fast and steady speed with only slowing down occurring at Changuvetty Junction in Kottakkal, lest I miss the road to Valanchery.
Though I had told my aunt in Trichur that I would be stopping by her place on the return leg, while driving in the Kottakkal-Valanchery stretch I started musing about taking the NH17 back home by taking a deviation at Kuttipuram or Edappal. The road through Kunnamkulam and Trichur,I knew to be of excellent quality however the NH17 was an unknown quantity. However what fun is there to drive through totally familiar roads. Touring is after all exploring the unknown. Advised by some locals to turn to Ponnani only from Edappal, I decided to do some map consulting as soon as I reach Edappal. I had also been getting extremely thirsty by then.
While having a juice at Edappal, I checked the NH17 route to Kochi on my Eicher All India Road Map and to judge the road condition I also called up Thothi, a close family friend who used to travel to Irinjalakuda regularly. Bolstered by her information that the roads were of decent quality except for stretches near Paravur and Edapally, I decided to take the deviation.
The Edappal-Ponnani road started off narrow but of acceptable quality but progressively deteriorated as it neared Ponnani town. At one stretch it was literally mud biking as I found one pothole to be a good 30-50 cms deep as the wheels started sinking in. The 150cc engine held good and I drove out. Another scare was received as my front wheel drove over a large and sharp rock. For a moment I feared whether the tire would get punctured though thanks to God nothing happened. Turning left at Ponnani Junction I entered the National Highway 17, the Panvel-Edappaly highway connecting Kochi and Mumbai along the coast of Arabian Sea.
I was truly surprised when I started driving down this road. Though not as wide as the Trichur-Kochi stretch of NH47 or even the Trichur-Edappal road, NH17 was paved rather decently, though with the signs of no maintenance having been done for several years. Even more surprising was the sparse traffic despite the good roads. Starting off carefully at around 50 kmph, I gradually increased speed to a steady speed of 75-80 kmph. It was a pleasant drive, with the biggest worry that of falling asleep. This worry was not neglected and I forced myself to be more aware whenever the monotonous nature of the drive threatened my lucidity.
By now it was nearing 1 o'clock and I had been getting pretty hungry. While scanning the roadsides for a decent eatery, I spotted a KTDC board indicating "Beach - 1km". Stopping by the junction, I asked around about the beach and any hotel around. Though there were no hotels anywhere nearby, I took the side road towards the beach on a lark.
The Mannalamkunnu beach was completely deserted when I stopped my bike just within its gates. The white sandy beach was throwing off a blazing glare from the burning sun. The Tsunami prevention trees planted along the beach beckoned me with promise of a soothing shelter and there were some benches around which would have provided some minutes of welcome rest, however the deserted nature of the beach warned me not to linger for long. I watched a few fishermen at their trades, shot off a few clicks and it was back to the road.
By now I had been growing steadily hungrier though I was disappointed in my hope of finding some eatery at Chavakkad along the highway itself. As I neared Chettuva however I saw a highway restaurant where I decided to have my lunch. Though it looked too fancy for my taste it was better than to ride ahead getting more and more famished. The vegetarian meals was acceptable and the hotel had an excellent lime soda which I had two of. Dishing out around 75 bucks for the meal and two soda lime I embarked on my return leg of the journey.
From Chettuva onwards the road started getting progressively bad and nearing Kodungallur there were a few stretches of road where the road was absolutely bad and traffic snarls horrible. This stretch of my drive was marked my occasional stoppages to enquire about a Murukkan Kada. After a heavy lunch I occasionally indulge in some betel chewing however hopes towards this direction were foiled. Even the small villages have more North Indian Paan shops and no murukkan kada. Really sad state of affairs. When one is out of the state of course one has to go with what is the local variety, but here in Kerala itself why do we have to resort to Paan with its entire coterie of artificial accompaniments? As I neared Kodungallur the thickening traffic however made me forget about the Murukkaan.
The first cramp hit me as I just entered the Kodungallur town. Driving down the road circling Kodungallur Bhagavathi Temple, cramps in my right thigh threatened to disable me. Immediately slowing down, I started flexing my leg while ensuring that the driving was safe and looking for some sort of bakery where I could drink up some liquids. The day long drive in sunny climate seemed to have dehydrated me. Driving on a few kilometers outside of the town I finally spotted a bakery just in front of the Cheraman Perumal Mosque, one of the oldest mosques in India. The extremely cold milkshake followed by a full bottle of water nursed me back to freshness and the drive was on.
As warned by Thothi, the roads near Paravyur were horrible. Excruciating traffic snarls and severely cratered roads going on for kilometers threatened to dampen my entire enthusiasm for the drive. However I drove on. The next stumbling block was not too far away in the form of the Edapalli railway crossing, always under a traffic snarl. The sight of the elevated bridge span over the railway tracks standing as a mute testament to execrable apathy, incompetence and criminal negligence of our political masters brought a sadness as I crossed the level cross. Two wheelers like me could perhaps manage faster by weaving in and out, but what of those poor chaps in four and six wheelers who are stuck at waiting for hours at a level cross?
The rigors of crossing this level cross in a form of motocross madness with the other bikers through the bad roads and continuing bad roads near Cheranalloor finally added up to give me my second cramp of the day, this time to my left thigh. Thankfully I had some of the water remaining so I downed the bottle, rested and flexed my legs for a minute or so and finally drove on home. The junction at Edapalli and the remaining drive home through Vyttila and Petta had been like the countless rides back home after work, however the satisfaction of riding home after two days of long rides was something else entirely. Truth be said, even as I shed my swollen feet off the boots and rested my numb posterior and worn out legs on the sofa back home I was already thinking about my next long drive.
As a new rider and a fresh tourer, I feel this drive proved to be an initiation of sorts. I drove through inclement and good weather, plains and hills. It had been a long solitary drive that proved to myself that I had the wherewithal for this. This drive proved to me that fantasies could become real and they might just be as magical as fantasies. In the hope of being able to pen more journals of longer and more thrilling drives, I conclude this travelogue.
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