Day 7 - Dec 9 , Thursday

Our Malwani host

Homestay in Tarkarli

With Goa just looming at 50+ kms from Tarkarli, the feeling of  “yes-we-have-done-it” started gushing in our veins. Our host, a beautiful 60 year old granny, understood and applauded our journey in Malvani words,

“Bara kelyaat, Cycli war ilyaat taa . gorryan sarkha jhala. Hyaka kay petrolichi garaj nasa, pedal maarlyat ki vatek sutla.”  
( Good job coming on a cycle. Just like the foreigners do. No need of petrol. Just a pedal and you are set on your way.)    

Malwan-Devbag road

The Plan 

A Small de-tour was decided for the day. The de-tour was to end our days journey at my native place in Talawade about 15 kms from Goa border and reach Goa the next morning.

The Route 

The day started on the Malwan-Devbag road with a view of beautiful little hamlets and House-boats on Tarkarli backwaters, a sign of growing Tourism on Konkan belt. Devbag, a small fishing hamlet, is the face of old Konkan with aesthically very beautifull houses and an ethnic setting leaving us dumbfounded, giving a very spiritual experience. 

In Devbag

 

Ferry to Bhogwe

We hired a personal boat to cross ourselves from Tarkarli to Bhogwe. Getting down from the ferry , we continued on the road to Mhapan. The road to Mhapan goes through absolutely red mud tracks and little hamlets and coconut plantations. The road onwards to Vengurla is a series of painstaking climb. The continuous fatigue of the earlier days were making even the smaller climbs of the day look like a man trudging through a waist deep mud. One of the most beautiful temple encountered was overlooked only because it followed a steep climb ahead and nobody wanted to break the rhythm. The degree of fatigue was just unimaginable. After a flat plateau and then gliding through a big descent at 35 kmph, Vengurla`s coastline came to life and we breathed a sigh of relief for lunch. 

  

The Red mud trail

Near Mhapan

Cyclogy

A Bicycle helmet

Every road we traveled followed a staring look from men saying  “You do not come from a world where I belong” and the reason lie neither in our cycles nor the riders. It was a cause of the colorful, fancy plastic shell on our heads. A Bicycle helmet. Well, it took us quite a while to understand that a bicycle helmet serves much bigger purpose on long trips than just a design to attenuate impacts to the skull of a cyclist in case of falls.

It`s a Symbol of a Wanderer having a heart beating with natural curiosity for the road and the world beyond. A cognitive representation of a self-belief that the world is within your reach and up for the grab.

 

Misfirings

It was already 4.30 pm when we finished our Lunch and Cocktail Ice-cream and were confused where to go. A dilemma. To go to Rahul`s friends home in Aravali or at my native place. There was a big split. Instead of splitting in half, I took a call for me to reach out for my home and Rahul, Bani and Dibakar moving to Aravali and meeting again early morning to complete our journey to Goa. But tomorrow never came for me and they continued their journey to Goa.          

Bani , Rahul and Me

Dibakar

The Ache

 Big Ache of the day

 It was first time ever on our entire trip that Dibakar
 and me got off from a bike on a climb just 5 kms
 away from Vengurla, out of fatigue and decided to
 walk. On our entire trip, Dibakar was fighting really
 hard with his big black messenger bag considering the
 fact that the bag swiveled constantly through and fro
 around his shoulders while riding. 

 

Home

On the walk up this climb, he tried to balance that bag on the frame of the cycle. It fell. Once. He looked in disgust and tried to balance  it again. It fell again. Out of anger and fatigue, Dibakar banged the bag again and cried “ Bhen*** . Haramkhor bag, ek jageh par reh , kabse idhar udhar gire jaa raha hai.”.
We were in laughing fury when we talked about it and this time our stomachs ached more than the legs. Only reason, now I can think of the big laugh was our body was acting in defense against fatigue and even a small silly act was turning into a laugh-out-loud scene.   

Rewards

In Aravali

Home is Everything. Cycling all the way from Bombay and reaching my native home, where I have spent my childhood`s most beautiful days turned out to be a much improvised and meaningful destination. The sense of belonging and happiness that Goa as the final destination never promised.

As for the others, they bathed in the sea of Aravali and would find their happiness tomorrow morning in Goa.