2nd Leg – Mangalore, Bhatkal, Panaji

Mysore to Mangalore was set to be the longest day of driving, 11 hours all up. On this day we were to encounter mountains, potholes and juggernauts.

After a visit to a new Round Table school project in the suburbs of Mysore, twelve of the thirteen rickshaws followed in convoy out of town. Today was a sad day because we’d lost our Spanish comrades, Los Pacos, who’d had an accident the day before. Fortunately no bones were broken and the accident happened right outside a hospital but some cuts and scraps and a crumpled rickshaw meant they’d not be continuing on with the rest of us. This was a harsh reminder of the potential perils and seriousness of driving in a third world country. I know we were especially careful from that point on.

Happy Indian children off to school


Leaving Mysore, dodging the traffic


Driving up the Nilgiri Hills was one of the major highlights of the entire trip. Climbing in second or third gear through forests and around winding bends, passing small villages with roaming elephants was pleasurable even as the rain set in.

We stopped at a town called Mercara at the top and grabbed some lunch at a local eatery. Filled with male workers, on their mid-day break, there were no menus but lots of hospitality and help from the gentlemen that let us share their table. We still have no idea what we ate but you pretty much can’t go wrong with a Veg Curry anywhere in India. Most of the population doesn’t eat meat so for life-long carnivore’s such as ourselves we were surprised by the fact that we found veggie food incredibly flavoursome. The site of skinned chickens and lambs hanging by the side of the road (no beef remember – that’s sacred) is enough to make you ignore the ‘non-veg restaurant signs in favour for veg only.

Hill top villages and potholes


Village life


Navigating down the other side of the mountain required a lot more concentration due to potholes, created by the monsoon. The downward journey gave us a great break from the drone of the rickshaw engine. For the most part it is hard to forget that you driving a lawn mower and no amount of singing or ear plugs can drown it out!

Nearing the bottom of the hills we got excited at the prospect of having only 50 kms to reach our final day’s destination of Mangalore and of course faster roads to take us there. But alas the road was not yet built, so it was a slow, bumpy, and of course challenging with hectic traffic conditions for another three hours.

We should point out here that even if your side of the road is in better condition than the opposite side this only means facing oncoming traffic in your road space. Size and speed win out, so the rickshaw lost each and every time! Many vehicles didn’t make it home until midnight that night. Ruby Murray was thankfully home earlier than most.

The next day to Bhatkal was the most treacherous drive because of the speed and volume of juggernauts and buses on the road. Look in either direction and you’ll see six vehicles similateously trying to over take each other….a bus overtaking a truck…..overtaking another truck…..overtaking a bus…overtaking a car, and so forth! The aim of Indian driving it seems is to overtake the vehicle in front even if you plan to stop immediately after that to let your passengers out. Genius!

Roadside carnage - there was lot's of this along route


Muradeswaram a beach town past Bhatkal was our next rest point. It has a wonderfully magnificent oversized statue of the god Shiva and seems to be another popular holiday destination for Indian’s. We thoroughly enjoyed making friends here with a family who’d asked us to take 1 photo with ‘our own’ camera. This is the only country we’ve experienced where locals approach you to take their photo and don’t ask for money for doing so. It’s probably the same way we in the western world flock in front of a TV crew. We happily obliged (I mean what a great photo opportunity) and several photo shoots later offered to take their postal address to forward copies on.

Indian holiday makers visiting Shiva statue


We also met a very nice Indian family from a more affluent and globe trotting background themselves who joined us for lunch. They too had traveled from Bangalore and had found themselves trailing our rickshaw rally for a couple of days and were keen to find out what all the craziness was about.

Finally our next leg to Goa, just before our two day rest point, took us through parts of India where the saris changed in design to halter neck sari dresses and we also passed women carrying huge wood piles on their heads - which would be difficult to carry by any human means really. Arriving in Goa you’ll find a more tropical terrain with beautiful meandering, palm tree lined roads.

Women's work is never done


Pulling in at the Taj Vivanta hotel in Panaji, Ruby Murray were first. Yeah! Piling out of the rickshaw in sweaty dirty clothes into what felt like a 10 star hotel is kind of embarrassing – but heck more so when your silencer has falling off and the whole hotel knows you've pulled in (hey team Nigel Manzil)!