Continues from the previous blog -‘Day 2 – The Lake That I Missed’
Koppal was a small town and a bit crowded. All structures in this town were short. The tallest building I saw here was two stories high. Everything was painted in bright colors. The streets were abundant with shops on the both sides. I observed very few cars on the road. Almost everyone was commuting on a motorbike. I dissolved into a swarm of motorbikes. I had a first sight of the hills of boulders. Seeing this hill with uncountable boulders, most of which were on top of each other, and a small town situated at the base of the mountain was a scary sight. I wondered what would happen if a even a single boulder loses it’s place and rolls down. It would be a disaster. I wondered if it had happened in the past.
After leaving the Koppal town, I came across a road sign which said Hospet was in straight direction and Sanapur was in left. With a distance of 12 kms, Hospet is the nearest town to Hampi. But in this trip I had decided to avoid staying in town. I always prefer staying away from crowded area. From what I had read in numerous travelogues, my impression of Hospet was a very busy and over crowded town. Therefore I had booked a guest house named ‘White Elephant Guest House’ in Rangapur. By road, Rangapur was 40 kms away from Hampi but I was ready to travel 40 kms to and fro just to be able to stay in calm and serene place. I had to cross Sanapur in order to reach Rangapur.
I took a left turn. After a about a kilometers distance I saw pile of hay spread on the road, and three women, wearing Rajasthani costumes were doing something with it. When I came closer, one of the women looked up, saw me and went back to doing whatever she was doing. I was confused if they were picking up the fallen hay or they were spreading it. I didn’t know if I was supposed to wait until they were done. Soon a tractor came from behind, women moved aside, tractor run over the pile of hay and crossed. I guessed that the women were spreading the hay for drying and the vehicles passing over it would help in the process. My left hand pressed the clutch, and left leg moved to shift to the first gear. Soon I could see the hay in the rear view mirror.
Coconut and Palm trees were standing tall on both sides of the road. When the density of the trees lessened, I saw two beautiful hills on the other side of the farm. The farm was almost dry. The blue sky, purple and reddish colored boulders on the hill and green trees were making quite a spectacular view. I admired the beauty of the nature. Clicked a photo and moved ahead.
I was passing through a small village. I came across a junction. I called few guys standing across the street to help me with directions. Luckily they spoke to me in Hindi. It is rare to find Hindi speaking people in South India unless you are at a tourist place. I asked them which village was it. They told me it was Sanapur. I knew I had to cross Sanapur but was confused if I had to cross it by going straight or by taking a left turn. One fellow came near me and asked, “Brother, where are you from? I noticed your registration plate starting with MH-02, it’s Andheri registration, are you from Mumbai?”
“Yes, I am”, I said with a smile.
“I’m from Mira Road, where are you from?”, the guy asked
“Whoa…. What a coincidence. I’m also from Mira Road.” I said surprisingly.
He seemed quite delighted. He looked back on the street where I came from, possibly looking for more bikers like me and then asked, “What are you doing here? and where are others?”
I replied, “I’m searching for a guest house. And there are no others. I’m riding solo”
“What, you came all the way here, all by yourself?”, it was quite amusing to see the look of shock on his face. May be I was the very first solo rider he had met in his life. I explained to him my idea of adventure in solo riding. He seemed to find it hard to believe that people find joy in riding solo. He said, “Look brother, you continue straight, there are lot of resorts and guest houses there. You’ll definitely find a place to stay”.
“No, No, I have already booked a guest house. I’m searching for it. Do you know where ‘White Elephant Guest House’ is?”
“No brother, I haven’t heard of it. I’m not from around here, I just came here for some personal work”, he then asked other guys standing near by in south Indian language. No one knew about it. I was about to take out my phone and call up the owner of the guest house and I suddenly remembered the name Rangapur.
“It’s in Rangapur”, I said while sliding my hand in the pouch, searching my phone. Quickly two hands shot up and pointed in the left direction.
“Oh, it’s in that direction brother”, the guy said.
I thanked everyone, shook hand with the Mumbai guy and took a left turn.