My Adventures in Coffee Land (Part III): Madikeri to Chikmagalur

Tags

Adi Shankaracharya, Chikmagalur, Coffee berries, Coffee estates, Dabdabe Falls, Karnataka, Kemmanagundi, Madikeri, Mullayangiri, Sharada Temple, Sringeri, Vidyashankara Temple

Hey guys 🙂

Here’s the third part of my travelogue on my 12-day trip through the coffee land of Karnataka, India.

For first-time visitors to my blog, here are the links to the previous two parts:

My Adventures in Coffee Land (Part I): Mumbai to Mangalore 

My Adventures in Coffee Land (Part II): Mangalore to Madikeri 

Happy reading 🙂

December 18th, Madikeri/Chikmagalur

I wake up a bit late at 7:30 am. It’s my last day in Madikeri and the next destination is Chikmagalur – the “coffee land” of Karnataka. After the usual breakfast of idli-vada and coffee, I proceed to the nearest ATM to withdraw money. On my return, I pass some time in the hotel reception area where a variety of local products are placed on display. Coorg coffee, tea, honey, chocolates, souvenirs, toiletries, etc. They even have the Coorg honey brand that I purchased at the honey shop.

At 11:30 pm, I settle my hotel dues. The bus station is just a few metres away but I don’t fancy wheeling my bag along the pot-holed road. The hotel attendant gets an autorickshaw, deposits my bag on the seat and then I’m off to the bus station.

The bus for Chikmagalur arrives at the station after fifteen minutes. The ticket for the 187 km journey costs 154 rupees. The bus reaches Chikmagalur after six hours. It’s 5:30 pm.

Located at an altitude of 1,090 metres, Chikmagalur is famous for coffee and surrounding hill stations. The evening scene is mostly of traffic and uniformed children heading home from school. A bustling town, though not large. At the bus station, I consult my list of hotels in Chikmagalur. With its low tariff, Chikmagalur Golf Club looks like a good possibility. I ask for the fare before getting into the autorickshaw. It’s 100 rupees. The drivers hanging around tell me it’s the normal fare. After covering a few metres, I ask the driver for the hotel distance. “About three kilometres.” Oops! I immediately tell him to stop the rickshaw. I had read some good reviews about Planter’s Court, a popular hotel in the town.  It’s said to be the best in town, the luxury hotels being quite far away. But its online tariff was a bit high when I last checked…more than 2500 rupees. “How far is Planter’s Court?” I ask the driver. “It’s very near.” “How much will the fare be?” “25 rupees.” That’s good!  Still, I keep my fingers crossed. That’s because I had got a “rooms unavailable” status for today’s check-in on travel websites.

Planter’s Court is located along the main road. The receptionist tells me that they have rooms for today and tomorrow but after that the entire hotel is booked. I take a look at the hotel tariff. The travel websites probably put up deluxe room rates because the hotel room tariff ranged between 990 to 4500 rupees. I opt for an economy room at 990 rupees plus taxes extra. The room looks good and has two single beds instead of a double bed. Since it’s peak season, they don’t offer any discount but I get the hotel manager to add a complimentary breakfast to the tariff.  I ask him for hotel suggestions for the third night. He names two of them and calls up one to book a room for me. The hotel is ready to give me a 20% discount. That takes care of my third day’s stay! I book a tourist taxi for the next day to feast my eyes on the scenic beauty surrounding the town: lush green hills and valleys, waterfalls and coffee estates. The tour cost is 2500 rupees.

Back in my room, I find two of the room lights not functioning. No problem, there are 3-4 other lights. Bad luck, no English music channels! Worse, the flush isn’t working! I immediately call up the reception and ask for another room. “A room with king-size bed will be okay?” Will be okay? It’s more than welcome! The second room is quite good and all its lights are working. If their economy rooms are so good, the standard and deluxe ones ought to be excellent!

At 6:30 pm, it’s dark and very cold. I ask the receptionist for sightseeing suggestions. She hands me a road map of the town and the surrounding tourist destinations. Her first recommendation is a 1000 year old temple. An autorickshaw ride there would cost around 50 rupees or so. After a 5-minute wait, an autorickshaw passes along the road. He says the fare is 80 rupees but I insist on 50 rupees. His last offer is 70 rupees. No way! A few minutes later, another autorickshaw passes by. He quotes the same fare and then the same last offer. The third one that passes by starts off with 80 rupees and comes down to 60 rupees. I accept it. Like at Madikeri, electricity is in short supply in Chikmagalur too. Most of the areas that I pass by are plunged in darkness. Outside the town limits, the road becomes desolate. Worse, there are no street lights. I change my mind about visiting the temple. I tell the driver to turn around. After checking the town map, I find an “MG Road” and direct the driver to take me there. It’s a fact that almost all MG Roads (Mahatma Gandhi Road) in Indian cities and towns are the main hubs for food, shopping and entertainment. That part of the town is experiencing a power failure too. Most of the small shops and commercial establishments are conducting their business in candlelight, others are equipped with generators. There’s not much to see as I stroll a short length of the road. I stop at a cybercafé before returning back to my hotel.

My dinner at the hotel restaurant is sweet corn chicken soup, chicken hakka noodles and vanilla ice-cream. At 11:00 pm, I’m off to sleep.

December 19th, Chikmagalur

The alarm rings at 6:00 am. It’s very cold. One of the windows just won’t close no matter how hard I try. I turn on the TV. At 8:00 am, I have my usual breakfast. The tourist taxi arrives at 8:30 am. Madhu, the 20-something taxi driver, doesn’t speak English, just a bit of broken Hindi. The first place to visit is Mullayangiri, the tallest peak of Karnataka. At 1,930 metres, it is the highest peak between the Himalayas and the Nilgiris. It’s 27 km away from Chikmagalur.

The mountain range is visible right in front on the approach road.

A drive up the hills offers a view of this scenic landscape…

The road leading up to Mullayangiri is extremely narrow at places with a couple of hairpin bends. On the way, there’s a small temple. We stop there for a while before continuing the journey to the mountain peak. To reach the highest point, you need to climb around 400 steps which start some distance away from the vehicle parking area. A Kannada film shooting is in progress atop the nearby hill.

Here’s a view of the 400-step staircase leading to the top of the mountain…

On my climb, I stop at times to capture some beautiful photos of the surrounding landscape.

A bird’s eye view from halfway up the stairs:

The narrow ascent road leading to the summit…

The car parking area and the Kannada film shooting atop the hill…

There is a small temple on the top so visitors are required to remove their footwear before stepping inside. The ground feels a bit cold but it’s fun to walk around barefoot. I sit inside the temple for some time before taking a stroll around. Near the temple, there’s a house (of the priest, I assume) and a government office. Walking away from it all, I’m greeted by fabulous panorama views on all sides. An indescribable experience! Lots of ravines and crevices, lush green hills… the entire place looks like a smooth green carpet! The landscape is enveloped in mist.

Watch this video: Video shot from Mullayyanagiri, the highest peak in Karnataka

Walking on wet grass is a joyful experience and more so when you’re on top of the tallest mountain in Karnataka. I’m the only person around and the silence is enchanting. It’s just me climbing up and down on the mountain top, taking photos and resting on the ground.

After an hour or so, I return to the car. Madhu tells me that a Kannada film unit is shooting a song sequence on the hill. I had guessed so on seeing the colourful costumes of the girls.

The next place to visit is Dabdabe Falls. The road is lined by coffee plantations. After twenty minutes or more we reach the Sagir Ahmed Estate. It’s a sprawling coffee estate housing the waterfall. Madhu guides me through the place. The youngster suggests a shortcut through the thick vegetation instead of taking the straight long path. It’s fine by me! It’s more fun walking up and down the estate than following the straight path. Along with coffee plants, there are silver oaks and other trees that I’m unable to identify.

Coffee berries in full glory…

The ripe ones…

We make our way through the dense vegetation cover.

After fifteen minutes, I hear the sound of gushing water. And few minutes later, I see the lovely waterfall. A picturesque setting of a waterfall in a jungle ambience!

I’m tempted to take a shower under the waterfall.  If only I had carried along a towel and spare clothing! I get as close as I can to the waterfall without drenching myself completely. Blazing sun above and the water is so cold!

Watch this video: Dabdabe falls in Chikmagalur, Karnataka

I squeeze out as much water as possible from my partially soaked t-shirt. It’s so very hot that by the time we return to the car, the t-shirt has dried off.

There is a small waterfall further down the road. The next place to visit is Baba Budan Giri Datta Peeta, a sacred place for both Hindus and Muslims. Devotees offer their prayers in a cave-like structure on top of a mountain.

After a twenty minute drive, the car is stopped by a man on the road. He tells Madhu that the road ahead is undergoing repairs so we need to hire a jeep to reach the place. That doesn’t make any sense. Seeing a few cars and a minibus parked alongside the road, my first thought is that those tourists have been taken for a ride. A bad road and a 400-rupee jeep ride under the blazing sun…I’m not interested! I tell Madhu to turn around.

The next destination is Kemmanagundi, a hill station. It was the summer retreat of the erstwhile king of Mysore, Krishnaraja Wodeyar IV.

It’s a long drive to Kemmanagundi. Madhu hadn’t had his breakfast so I tell him to have lunch at a village on the way. Later, we stop at Kalhatti Falls. A small temple stands beyond the waterfall. To reach it, one has to cross the waterfall. The place is crowded with devotees. Not wanting to get drenched under the waterfall, I take a quick look around before returning to the car.

The road to Kemmanagundi passes through some eye-candy coffee estates, making the drive all the more enjoyable.

We reach the beautiful small hill station at around 3:00 pm. It’s an amazing place surrounded by lush green hills offering spectacular views of the picturesque landscape.  Madhu tells me that it attracts a large number of trekkers and wild life enthusiasts. Its numerous mountain trails have made it a trekker’s delight.

Truly, Kemmanagundi has a unique beauty and I can only imagine how wonderful it would be in the monsoon season.

We drive past a government accommodation and Madhu points out a signboard showing the way to the restaurant. I tell him I’ll stop there later. We drive up the hill and reach the car parking area. The place looks quiet and lovely so I tell Madhu that I’ll return after an hour or so.

Just nearby, there’s a Rose Garden. I stroll around under the hot sun for some time before seeking refuge in a shaded pavilion. It’s quiet and peaceful with nobody in sight except for a couple of crows. I continue with my stroll. At one place, I get a particularly lovely view of the lush green hills and grasslands.

Suddenly, I feel hungry. I return to the car and find Madhu taking a nap in the car. I walk downhill to the restaurant. There are a few cottages but I don’t see anyone around. I follow the sign pointing the way to the restaurant but I don’t find any, just a small shack. Thinking the restaurant must be somewhere ahead I keep walking. I hear footsteps and turn around to see a dog. “Stop following me!” I’m tired and very hungry. Dumb dog. As if he understood what I said… that too in English! Still, I shouldn’t have yelled at him like that. I turn around to see his face. But he’s vanished! I walk on, hoping to find someone who can help me find the damn restaurant. I see a man and ask “Restaurant?” He says “Up” and points the way. But I have just come from there! I climb up the steps again. I don’t see any restaurant around. “Restaurant?” I ask a man standing outside the shack. He points to the shack. What the…! I have passed that place three or four times! The man speaks neither English nor Hindi so he’s unable to understand what I’m saying. He calls out to another man who comes out of the shack. I want to know what’s there to eat. He speaks a bit of Hindi.” Rice with…, rice with…, bread omelette…” I order a bread omelette. I call up Madhu to tell him to get the car near the restaurant.

There are three tables placed together with plastic chairs on one side and a concrete ledge on the other. I pull out a chair to sit. Next thing I know, the dog joins me at the table, making himself comfortable on the concrete ledge just opposite me… like we are a couple or something! Are you for real? I stare at him in disbelief. I want to rub my eyes to be sure if it’s for real or just my mind playing tricks on me. But I’m wearing contacts. Right, so I’m sharing a table with a dog sitting on his hind legs and staring at me. Ummmm…nice eyes!

The bread omelette arrives. It looks unpalatable! The omelette is slightly burnt on one side and wrapped around two small slices of…fruit bread! I have no choice but to take a bite. It tastes pathetic! I think of leaving the place right away. I ask for the bill. “Forty rupees.” Whaaatt? Forty rupees for this thing? Might as well have another bite! I pay him and hope that he will just go away instead of lingering around while I eat. But he doesn’t. He starts questioning me in broken Hindi. “You’re travelling alone? You got a car? What car is it?” I look at the dog. He looks at me, then at the man and then back at me. I’m amazed! I mean, here’s a dog who’s sitting silently while I’m eating when it is usual for his kind to bark. And here’s a man who’s barking while I’m eating when it is usual for his kind to be silent. The man continues barking. I look at the dog. You’re welcome to the food because I’m leaving.  I storm out of the place in anger and disgust. The dog isn’t interested in the food either. He follows me out of the place. But he doesn’t follow me down the steps to the road below. I guess he’s taken my angry words to heart. There’s no sign of Madhu or the car. I’m already fuming with anger and Madhu’s delay irritates me further.  I call him again. “Where are you?” I snap at him. He’s waiting near the signboard while I’m standing ahead down the road. “Come here right away!” He does. I tell him about the man’s rude behaviour and the pathetic food. My fury makes him nervous and he forgets what little Hindi he knows. He starts babbling in his language! Great, that’s all I need!

The little of what I have eaten has left a bad taste in my mouth. I tell Madhu to stop at the nearest shop where I can have ice-cream or a cold drink. My mood changes a few minutes later when I see something in the forest along the road. “Monkey!” I squeal in delight. It’s a black monkey with white hair on his head, the sort one might find only in well-known zoos. (The next day, I googled about the monkey and discovered that it was a “lion-tailed macaque (Macaca silenus), or the wanderoo, an Old World monkey endemic to the Western Ghats of South India.)

After sighting the rare monkey, my mood gets back to normal. About half an hour later, we stop at a village shop, where I have an orange drink and a banana. At 6:30 pm, we reach the hotel. The hotel manager enquires about my trip. “Excellent!” I tell him all about it, including the bad food and the rude fellow at Kemmanagundi. Madhu joins us. A little later, I retire to my room.

At 8:30 pm, I leave for dinner at the restaurant downstairs. When I pass by the reception, the hotel manager asks me if I would like to extend my stay at the hotel. I’m surprised. Isn’t the hotel fully booked for the next day? He tells me that he can arrange for my further stay. That’s good! For dinner, I order a Manchow soup, chicken hakka noodles and vanilla ice-cream. The soup is so very spicy that I can take only a spoonful of it. Tears roll down my cheeks while I guzzle down nearly one litre of water. The bland noodles make me feel better.

December 20th, Chikmagalur

I wake up at 6:30 am. The hot water supply usually starts at 6:30 am but the water’s still cold so I have no choice but to take a cold shower in the shivering cold weather. I enjoy it. At 8:00 am, I have my usual breakfast. A large group of about 50-60 guys in corporate T-shirts have gathered near two minibuses. No wonder the hotel is fully booked!

Today I’m going to visit the famous temple town of Sringeri, 79 km away. On my request, the hotel manager has already made enquiries on bus timings. He tells me that buses leave after every half an hour. At 10:00 am, I take an auto rickshaw to the bus station. The bus to Sringeri is waiting at the gate.  The bus fare for the two hour journey is 83 rupees. The road is very beautiful, shaded by trees on both sides.

The bus arrives in Sringeri at 1:30 pm. The temple is hardly one km from the bus station.

Sringeri is the first matha or monastery established by the 8th century Hindu saint-philosopher Adi Shankaracharya. The sprawling temple complex has two prominent temples. The Sharada Temple, dedicated to the goddess of learning and wisdom, and the Vidyashankara Temple. The Vidyashankara Temple is closed when I arrive.

I visit the Sharada Temple. The beautiful temple has a golden idol of Goddess Sharada in the sitting posture. Goddess Sharada is an avatar of Goddess Saraswati, the goddess of knowledge, music, art, wisdom, and learning. She is depicted with four arms, each holding a symbolic object. The upper right hand of the Goddess carries a parrot and japa mala (string of Hindu prayer beads). The upper left hand has the vessel carrying amrut(nectar). The lower left hand holds a book. The Goddess blesses the devotees with her lower right arm. The original sandalwood idol was installed by Adi Sankaracharya. It was replaced by the golden idol in the 14th century around the time of the construction of the Vidyashankara temple. The mandapa (hall) has sculptured pillars built in Tamil Nadu style of temple architecture. I feel blissful after walking out of the temple, which closes soon after.

All the temples inside the complex remain closed in the afternoon. I’m eager to see the Vidyashankara temple so I decide to wait till it reopens at 4:30 pm.

Standing on a richly sculpted plinth, the imposing granite structure with its intricate carvings is shaped like a chariot with a majestic gold cupola soaring in the sky. This temple is an architectural marvel, an exhibition of the astronomical expertise of medieval south Indian temple builders. It has six doorways. The niches in the temple have a number of sculptures from Hindu, Buddhist and Jain mythologies.

The Tungabhadra River flows past the temple. It’s a long wait in the blistering heat. I buy the temple prasad of 50 rupees. It includes four small blocks of coconut sweets. I quickly finish three of them.  With nothing else to do, I leave the temple complex for a cybercafé nearby. I spend an hour there. It is 3:30 pm and blazing hot. Having eaten so many sugary sweets, I feel like having something very spicy. I walk into a small restaurant. Being lunch time they don’t serve hot snacks. So I have to make do with two cold medu vadas and coke. At 4:00 pm, the Sharada Temple reopens. I visit it once again. And then, I proceed to the Vidyashankara Temple which reopens at 4:30 pm.

Inside the Vidyashankara temple, the main shrine has a Shiva Linga over the Samadhi (resting place) of Sri Vidyashankara, the famous pontiff of this monastery. It is known as Vidya Shankara Linga. The other two shrines are of Lord Ganesha and Goddess Durga. The mandapa has twelve sculpted pillars, each representing a sign of the zodiac. They are constructed in such an ingenious way that the rays of the sun fall on each pillar in the chronological order of the twelve months of the Hindu calendar. On the temple floor, there’s a carved circle with lines corresponding to the shadows cast by each pillar.

I settle down on the cold floor, a welcome respite from the heat outside. At a little past five, I leave the temple complex for the bus station. I get the 5:30 pm bus to Chikmagalur which reaches the town at around 7:30 pm. Back at my hotel, I have my usual dinner of sweet corn chicken soup, chicken hakka noodles and vanilla ice-cream. It’s my last night in Chikmagalur…

Coming up next: My Adventures in Coffee Land (Part IV): Chikmagalur to Udupi