Surat – Vadodara – Godhra – Udaipur
After a fitful sleep at the Surat hotel, I woke up groggily and unenthusiastically. However, I was aware that I had to cover almost 500 kms during the day, braving the intense, soul scorching heat. It was, half-past seven when I stepped out of the hotel, and took another 15 odd minutes to put on the saddle, check a few things, and put on my gear. Clearly, I was quite behind the Sun, which was fast traversing the clear blue skies in its journey to the Western hemisphere. The day had all the promise of being a fiercely hot one. I had another problem to face. Through a few blogs, I got to know that a stretch of NH 8 – from Vadodara to Ahmedabad, was blocked for bikers. The alternate route suggested was via Godhra.
Soon after entering Vadodara, the Google Maps suggested a route that took me off the highway, and to my surprise, alongside the Narmada Canal! To tell the truth, I didn’t expect that route to be correct. Google had proven to be extremely vicious on earlier occasions. I had been guided by that reassuring blue line through goat trails and slums and barren fields, for a promise of a faster, better route. Often, on such occasions, the good old human maps finally redeem you from your ordeal.
Well, riding along the sloping, cemented banks of the canal was not that bad after all! The wind was cooler, the tarmac was decent, barring a few innocent potholes here and there, and there was absolutely no traffic. There was not a single person on the way to confirm that I was going in the right direction. After accompanying the blue waters of the canal for what seemed like a long time, the map indicated that I must turn left. And I did. I spotted a few people sitting under an ominous peepal tree, talking leisurely, but I didn’t stop to ask the way as I was sure that the map would eventually lead me to a busy road.
How wrong was I? The map guided me to a dirt road that snaked through a hamlet, towards green fields in the distance.
Good sense prevailed and I retreated; this time stopping near the tree to ask about my way. The men directed me correctly towards the road that would take me straight to Godhra, and from there on, to my destination for the day, Udaipur.
The road that raced through Godhra was smooth, mostly straight and devoid of heavy traffic. However, maintaining a yielding speed for a long time was out of the question as the route was interspersed with busy town and village crossings, and even more annoyingly, speed breakers that sprang up frequently – a real danger to an unsuspecting rider.
The heat intensified as I progressed on my journey. Usually, I avoid eating lunch while riding, and in the rising heat, it seemed like a good idea to avoid lunching at any roadside establishment. The roads seemed unending, and the blazing Sun unrelenting. That day’s ride taught me how the fire-breathing Sun drains out energy from you. The time between 12 pm to 4 pm was the worst. I took several breaks during this time. I felt the heat rising from the ground, passing through the metallic body of my bike and rising up to my head. Sometimes, I got lucky and found shade under a puny little babool tree or a benign gulmohar. There were times when I could not spot a single tree, under the shade of which I could relax and cool down, even for a few minutes. These short breaks were necessary because I felt delirious and totally exhausted.
At 3:00 pm, I arrived at a busy junction of some town. It was mostly a cluster of shacks selling a variety of things – from fruits to paan to sweets to groceries. I made a pit stop there and quickly took off my gear – feeling a hundred pairs of eyes staring at me. I knew people couldn’t wrap their heads around the idea of wearing a heavy jacket in such heat.
Finding a little stool, I asked for a bottle of cold water. I accompanied my drink with local gram flour fritters, which were served with a sweet kadhi-kind of a chutney. The chutney was too strange for my taste buds but the fritters were familiar and reassuring. I took my time to cool down and gain some strength at this unplanned pit stop. This particular shack was wonderfully cool under the blanket of a magnificent peepal tree. My body rested and spirit recharged, I trudged off to scale the last leg of my journey – convinced to do it in one go.
However, merely half an hour later, I found myself dragging my heat-bitten body to a wayside A/C restaurant. The restaurant was closed for lunch (that’s my little joke), and a few staff present there were watching a South Indian movie dubbed in Hindi. I had to order something, so I ordered tea. I had already drunk a couple of soft drinks during the day and was not in a mood for another. A tea-lover, I like my cup of tea – Desi style – with all the jazz in it; milk, ginger, cardamom. The tea took some time to prepare, and I wasn’t complaining. I was in no hurry. I knew that in a few hours, I would be romping on a cozy bed with the A/C at full blast. Again, how wrong I was.
The last stop was a good decision, while I got the much-needed rest, the Sun, sliding Westward, had grown a bit mellow. As a result, going ahead was far easier. Without a single break, I continued to scale the distance to Udaipur, appreciating – for the first time during the day – the landscape around me. A smooth, inviting road ran through a rocky, barren landscape with an occasional cluster of short babool trees or dry shrubs. In spite of lack of vegetation, the landscape was far from appearing dead. In the early evening of the day, the scenery seemed to have a character of its own. The short, rolling hills in the distance looked like soft bubbles in the hot evening haze. I couldn’t help but think of the glory, devotion, and pride attached to this very land! If you look far in the distance, it is not hard to imagine a strong army of a mighty Raja swelling up over these bubble hills with an ambition to conquer a stronghold or a fortress. Chants of Har Har Mahadev and Jai Maa Kaali resonating and reverberating in the air. People who killed and laid their lives for pride, for glory, for their motherland.
Weaving my way across slow-moving trucks loaded to maximum capacity, I kept inching towards my sojourn for the day. Before the city, came its reflection. I spotted several buildings on either side of the road designed in the likelihood of a fort. I crossed a few resorts and hotels before halting at the point where the road bifurcated in two, one going inside the city, the other towards Delhi.
I had stopped to ask my way around the hotel. Unfortunately, my phone’s battery had died – the charging wire was apparently not working. My mobile charger attached to the mobile holder fixed on the bike’s handle was working fine.
The problem was, I had not copied down the hotel address anywhere and entirely relied on my phone. I only remembered the name of the hotel, and I hoped that someone would recognise it and could direct me towards it. But that was a foolish wish. I was in Udaipur – a place that has its name on the world map of tourism. There must be hundreds of hotels and once couldn’t expect locals to know which one was where. So, finally, I found a mobile selling shop – which is not difficult in any city, town or village in today’s time – and purchased a new charger. I took the time to charge my phone at the shop, and once it was adequately charged, I fixed it back on the bike’s mobile charger. I could use Google Maps now and was glad for it. It so happened that the hotel was at the end of the city, bang on the NH 27. If I had continued on the NH8, I would have reached my hotel in minutes. But it was destined that I suffer heavy, uncoordinated traffic, cutting through the busiest roads and markets to reach the hotel.
Finally, I reached the hotel, designed in the likelihood of a fetching palace. The room was spacious and well adorned. I ordered Mewadi Gatte and Missi Roti and some buttermilk to wash down the meal. After a hearty meal, I slept like a baby. The day had finally worn off me, and I could rest. The thought itself was delicious.
Vroom Tales: Solo Riding Experiences 