Part 3 - Horanaadu and Chibbalugudda

The third morning found us on the road to Horanaadu.

Horanaadu is the abode of goddess Annapurneshwari and is about a hundred kilometers from Thirthahalli. It was not on my list of places to visit. I had heard that the road to the goddess is not smooth and had decided to offer a long distance prayer and be done. But Horanaadu is a famous spot on the tourist circuit and it is not easy to brush aside compelling suggestions like “not visiting Horanaadu? after coming all the way to Thirthahalli? Hardly hundred kilometers and such a beautiful place"  "So much of greenery all around. Coffee and tea estates on both sides of the road. It is wonderful. You should not miss it."  "Bad road? Eh, that is just about twenty kilometers. The rest is quite good and they say that if you add Annapurneswari’s rice ‘Prasaad’ to your stock of rice at home, you will always have enough to feed hundred people. Don’t miss it and repent later”. (Prasad is a part of the offering made to god, returned with the deity's blessings)

Even if twenty meters of the road is bad, I think twice before venturing there. Twenty kilometers of bad road is reason enough for me to avoid any trip. I would have avoided Horanaadu. I was capable of brushing aside the goddess and facing her wrath. But there were people in our party who were vulnerable to such compelling suggestions and I was not capable of brushing aside their sentiments and face their wrath.

So there we were. On the way to Horanaadu.

The journey was really enjoyable up to a place called Koppa. From Koppa we took the road to a  smaller town  called Balehonnur, a distance of another thirty kilometers. It was not bad either. Comes under the ‘good’ category actually. After Balehommur we stopped at a fork in a place called Jayapura to ask for directions. We had been told that there are many roads leading to Horanaadu from Jayapura , all of them bad, but the one through Kalasa was comparatively better. There was a fruit seller there and a buyer was selecting apples from the cart. I addressed the fruit seller.

“Can you please tell me which is the way to Kalasa?”

The buyer who was selecting apples from the cart turned towards me.

“Kalasa? Where do you want to go?”

“Horanaadu”

“Then why do you go to Kalasa? That is twenty kilometers from here and another six to Horanaadu. You go straight for twelve kilometers and take a right turn at Balekatte. From there it is ten kilometers to Horanaadu. The road is single (meaning narrow, meant for one vehicle a time) and winding but you drive slow and it is fine. You will save four kilometers.”

Now the fruit seller addressed the buyer

“Are you telling them to take the Basrikatte road?”

“Yes”

The seller looked up towards the heaven (like Sachin Tendulkar) in despair (unlike Sachin tendulkar) and then turned to me

“Don’t do that sir. That road is horrible. You save four kilometers but it will make you wish that you were never born. Go to Kalasa and then to Horanaadu”

It was the buyer’s turn again

“Telling them to go via Kalasa? Have you seen that road? That is worse than Basrikatte road. It will kill them.” He turned to me “there is no road there sir. Only craters.  You take my advise. I am a driver myself and traverse these roads every other day.”

We had a choice between wishing that we were not born and getting killed. Devil and the deep sea. There is a saying in Kannada. “hedarirona mele kappe yeseyodu” (it roughly translates to - throwing a frog on one who is already scared - translation not as effective as the original but gives an idea)  that was my state. But we had reached the point of no return. We discussed amongst ourselves and since we had heard that one of Sri Krishnaswamy’s friends had gone to Horanadu by the Kalasa road two weeks back and had come back alive, decided to go the same way.

It took about an hour and a half to cover twenty four kilometers but we were in front of the temple at quarter to one - in time for lunch. About the natural beauty on both sides of the road - I have no information. I did not take my eyes off the moon faced road.

I had expected the Annapurneshwari temple to be an old structure detached from the external world and located amidst greenery and surrounded by hills all around. It was not. It is a common looking structure obscured by a ‘noveau rich’ looking multi storied residential block. You will see the temple after you have passed through the massive decorative concrete arch and climbed some fifty steps. Not to my liking. But you do get to see the beautiful slopes of the Sahyadri at a distance, if you are standing in front of the temple. You just have to ignore the eyesores around you.

view  from the car park (the metal net barricade avoided)

The Diwali tourist season had just ended and it was not a day of any special worship or significance. So, there was not much crowd and no sign of the long line which we usually see in front of famous temples.  However, we had to walk through the steel barricades meant to maintain the queue, turning around again and again, buying the ‘Pooja’ tickets and rice from counters conveniently located on the way to the sanctum. We poured our rice into the container meant for receiving it, got the ‘Rice prasad’ meant for mixing with our rice stock at home, had a ‘Darshan’ of the deity and walked to the dining hall.

The clean dining hall meant to seat hundreds had just the three of us sitting for lunch and we finished our lunch in record time and were back in the car by half past one. Since I had had my lunch I sat in the back and closed my eyes for a nap and my son had flown over the dreaded craters on the road and had arrived at Balehonnur when I opened my eyes. We were back in Thirthahalli by tea time and our hosts had another living example to motivate others undecided about visiting Horanaadu.

We had planned to shift to the Arya Akshobhya Math at Balegaru that night and the Swamiji had asked us to be there by half past seven if we wanted our dinner. We had another two hours to spare and Mrs Krishnaswamy suggested that we could visit ‘Chibbalu gudda ‘( Gudda is a small hill) before we left for Balegaru. ‘Chibbalu gudda’ is a plateau right next to the Tunga river where there is a small Ganesha temple and one can climb down to the river through the steps behind this temple. The place provides a beautiful view of a large expanse of the Tunga river and you may enjoy the company of hundreds of large river fish which almost eat out of your hands if you offer them puffed rice. Looking at their size, they are capable of eating your fingers or even the hand but I hear that has not happened till date. We spent a pleasant half an hour there, purchased some good honey, cultivated by a family residing at the spot and returned home to pack up.

river getting darker and reflecting the last rays of the evening sun

Fish ( not seen) making waves 

We were at the Arya Akshobhya math at Balegaru exactly at half past seven.

Balegaru Math - First look

Day - 2 Kundadri and Bheemana Katte

The distance from Sagar to Thirthahalli is about eighty kilometers and we could have reached Thirthahalli before nine the previous night if we had not stopped at Sagar. But I had expected the route to be pleasant and picturesque, and so, had decided to stay at Sagar and resume the journey in the morning. Moreover we had stayed at the same hotel (Varadashree) at Sagar on our trip to Jogfalls few months back and my son had found the ‘Uddinavade’ (spiced urad dal batter, deep fried in the shape of a donut - also known as ‘meduvada’ - Tarla dalaal’s decsription) served for breakfast to be very tasty and crispy and that it was accompanied by quite a good ‘Sambaar’ (Dal and vegetable curry). It is not usual to find such ‘Uddinavades’ these days and he hoped that he may be able to get it once again.

Talking about  eatables, remember that I mentioned the name 'Hayagreeva' in my previous post? The name of Lord Vishnu when in the form of a horse? Well Hayagreeva is also the name of a very tasty sweet dish prepared using Chanadal, grated dry coconut, poppy seeds and jaggery. It is supposed to be the signature dish of Madhwa Brahmins and is usually part of the offerings to the lord (called 'Naivedya') at Sodhe mutt. Almost always it is on the menu for lunch at the mutt. During the jackfruit season one may enjoy a very tasty Sambaar of locally grown tender jackfruit followed by Hayagreeva. Heavenly! If you can forget your cholesterol, blend a dollop of ghee with Hayagreeva and experience bliss! Lunch is served early at Sodhe. We went there late this time and missed saint Vadirajas blessings in the form of this gastronomic bliss. This Hayagreeva, I believe, has its origins in the cooked grams Sri Vadiraja used to offer to lord Vishnu. But let me not keep going off track and get along to day two.

The night halt at Sagar scored on both counts. Both the Uddinavade and the route to Thirthahalli were enjoyable.

We reached Thirthahalli by ten in the morning and it was not difficult to locate the house of Sri Krishnaswamy, who had kindly offered to host us. I had heard that Thirthahalli is surrounded by many places worth visiting, all of them close by, beautiful and calm. We found this to be very true. But the town ship itself was not as I had imagined. In my imagination it was a sleepy, clean and quiet place with well spread out old houses. It was anything but that. Thirthahalli is a dusty and congested township with very narrow streets and a very busy main road polluted with smoke and dust. The main road runs across the town not different from many such small towns in the state. 

After we had our lunch and rested for a while we decided to visit a nearby hill, called ‘Kundadri’, a single rock hill which provides a panoramic view of the Sahyadri range all around. I was told that we could drive almost to the top of the hill and reach the pinnacle by climbing some steps from there. My son saw the hill from a distance and offered to take over the wheel but I wanted to show that I was not scared of hills. I refused his offer and continued to drive. As we climbed higher and higher the road went steeper and narrower and my heart started beating faster and faster. With every U turn, which I was negotiating in first gear, the gradient increased and I was worried as I had no lower gear to resort to if it got worse. I was ready to accept the loss of face and hand over the control to my son but it was difficult to even stop and change hands. Fortunately the climb ended before my heart exploded. I stopped the car and got out thankfully. I had proved my driving skills and had saved my face but at a considerable cost to my heart.  

Kundadri has a Jain temple at the top and a pond, which I believe, never dries up. Plenty of fish in the pond. There was an exhilarating view all around and we spent an hour there enjoying the sights.

 On our way down we encountered another car that was climbing up and I thanked god that I did not find one coming down when I was struggling to go up.

Midway between Thirthahalli and Kundadri is a place called Bheemana katte where one can approach the Tunga river and also find a small stretch of river beach of white sand.  One of the Pandava brothers Bheema, is said to have constructed a bathing platform there overnight, for his wife Draupadi, using huge boulders and hence the name Bheemana Katte ( A ‘katte’ in Kannada is a platform). We did find a platform there, concrete and tiled, built not by Bheema but by the Karnataka PWD. You may contest the name and call it PWD katte but it will not lessen the beauty and serenity of the place. The place was very peaceful and there was no one around except the four of us. No wonder Pandavaas had selected this to be one of the places to stay during their Agnaatavaasa (Stay incognito as per their agreement with Kauravas).

We stayed there for sometime enjoying the peaceful atmosphere and the gentle sound of the flowing water. It was getting dark and getting difficult to see clearly the individual members of the school of small fish, moving in the shallow water near the shore. 

 We reluctantly turned back from Bheemana katte and headed home to enjoy the hospitality of Sri Krishnaswamy and family.

Moving Around 'Malnad'. - 1

Once every few months the travel bug bites my wife and she in turn starts biting, no, bugging me. “I am fed up of this routine. Cook, wait for you, eat, sleep and watch TV. This has become my life. I spend half a day in the kitchen and the rest in front of the TV and most of the programmes are horrible. I hate the kitchen and hate this TV but I am tied to them. You are always busy in your clinic or with your other activities and this fellow (our son) forgets home if he goes to college. (My son had been hearing this all through his student life and now that he is a lecturer in the same college, will probably continue to hear these words for the rest of his life). I need a change. Let us go somewhere. You Plan something.” 

The onus of finding a place which suits all of us (there is no such place in this world) and making the necessary arrangements is on me. I start thinking about possible locations. Flight is too expensive, train tickets are never available at short notice and my wife does not travel by bus. So, it is imperative that we travel by car. My son prefers his friends and his bike but he had to be included for the sake of the family feeling. He agreed to travel with us if we were avoiding the highways and driving through interior roads where he could enjoy driving and test the capabilities of our car. According to my experience most of the interior roads are bad and I hate bad roads. If these restrictions are not enough, the place which we intend visiting should not be very close, nor very far, not very crowded, have good hotels and preferably be good for shopping. (The last requirement is actually the first. It is never mentioned but I am required to keep it in mind all the time.)

As I have said earlier I know that a holiday destination which suits all of us does not exist but I try to find one.  I give up and declare that the place where we are at present is what suits us best. Then my wife and son grudgingly compromise a bit and put me on a renewed search.

After eliminating other destinations, this time we shortlisted Coorg and ‘Malnad’ areas in Karnataka.  My wife did not like the mention of availability of traditional Coorg fare- predominantly non vegetarian with a preference to pork- mentioned in the websites of hotels and home stays.  So, ‘Malnad’ it was. There were other plus points in ‘Malnad’.  A possibility of avoiding staying in hotels - we had relatives (whom we had never met of course) on whom we could force ourselves for a day or two - and a ‘Mutt’ or ‘Matha’ ( a religious establishment) which we had been planning to visit for long. I planned a route avoiding the highway as much as possible, hoping that the interior roads would be good enough for driving and had the car serviced.

Then one of my patients, who had had her wisdom tooth removed in my clinic, developed some complication.  This complication threatened to jeopardize two things. Our trip and more importantly her (patient’s) wedding, which was due two weeks later. Fortunately the surgeon who had done the surgery managed to get things under control with the help of half a dozen gods to whom I had sent prayers and the patient was almost normal a day before our planned start off. I filled the tank and we were ready to leave.

We had planned to travel to Tirthahalli, sort of epicenter of Malnad area and visit few places around the small town which are not on the usual tourist map. We started on a fine November morning and decided to travel till Sagar, another small town near Shimoga in Karnataka and stay there for the night. By lunch time we had crossed Karwar and Ankola and were near a place called Yellapur. Having found a shady and clean spot by the side of the road we decided to have a leisurely lunch which we had packed. We spread the carpet and were about to ‘set the table’ when the herd of cattle that were grazing on the other side of the road decided to share the lunch with us along with their friend, a dog. 

Just then I also spotted a group of monkeys which were on a tree a little distance away, watching us and eager to join the guest list. The idea of a leisurely lunch was abandoned, and while two of us managed to shoo away our guests my son managed to recover the lunch and we ate a ‘darshini’ type (eat fast and get lost) lunch in a hurry and proceeded on our way.

The road from Yellapur to Sagar was narrow but smooth with hardly any traffic and abundant greenery all around. Travelling was a pleasure. The pleasant surroundings elevated the mood in the car and even our family of three began to enjoy each other’s company.  

We were nearing the town Sirsi, when we saw a narrower road leading away to our right with a sign board saying ‘Sonda Vaadiraja Mutt’. The famous Sodhe or Sonda ‘math’ was one of the eight mathas established by the saint Sri Madhwacharya and was set up in the village of Sonda  by Sri Vaadiraja, one of Madhwacharya’s followers.God Vishnu is said to have taken the form of a horse (god Vishnu in this form is known as Hayagreeva) and accepted the offering of cooked grams which Vaadiraaja had reverently offered by placing it in a plate on his head. Sri Vaadiraja is said to have entered ‘Brindavana’ here while still alive (A ‘Brindavana’ is a small religious structure built on the place where the mortal remains of the head of a ‘Matha’ are placed - the word buried is not used here).

 

It was not possible to travel past Sodhe without paying our respects to Sri Vadiraaja. So we went slightly off track to pay obeisance to Sri Vaadiraja and were back on our road within an hour.

Soon afterwards we drove through the town, Sirsi, stopping half a dozen times asking for directions and as we left Sirsi the sky was turning orange with the sun setting beyond the green fields.

When we arrived at Sagara it was about seven in the evening and was already dark. We checked into the hotel, had our dinner and called it a day.