Windy Slopes
The road was dark, shrouded in a thick mist. There was the faint sound of wind if one rolled down the window and the air was steeped with moisture. I was pretty sure that each tree was wetter than a river, but I did not dare to get out of the car and check that theory out.
We were on the way to an estate that was promised to be ‘in between the clouds’. I was not particularly thinking about that promise, more intent on following the tail lights of the car ahead.
It was close to midnight perhaps, though it had seemed that way for a while. Being on a vacation, I was not wearing a watch and my cellphone was safely tucked away somewhere after ensuring that there was no network.
We had made it to the little town of Chikmagalur in a little over 5 hours. The last leg of the journey saw some mild rain but that was to be expected, as I learnt over the next few days.
What I did not know at that point was how cold it could get.
The little estate is almost above the clouds. When we reached, there was a thick mist surrounding everything. I really mean thick. Thick enough to cut through with a knife. I could see multiple shadows of me and everyone else in the mist.
We were in the clouds, at the edge… right before the rocks fell away to form a gorgeous valley underneath. Of course, I wouldn’t see that till hours later. At that moment, I was cold, bone cold. I wished I had a little thicker skin so I could stand out and enjoy that chilling breeze like the others but after my teeth started chattering, the car was the only place I could be.
***
Chikmagalur is a place where you do not realise how quickly the time passes. You cannot even figure out what time it is by the sun.
Mornings looked beautiful… the gardens still had dew on them and a faint mist still hovered around tree tops. Lazy treks, wanderings through coffee plants and pepper creepers… and the morning vanished.
Mountain air makes you hungrier. And lazier. Where does all that food go?
For a Bangalorean used to the smoke-filled air, Chikmagalur was a sheer delight of pure oxygen.
The sun peeks out now and then, delighting you with the heat but never staying long enough that you get bored of it.
When you do seek heat, there are always campfires. And a bottle of whisky or rum, depending on your choice.
***
Creative juices simply flow here. It is easiest to imagine a horror movie in the nights and a beautiful romance in daylight. Or a naturist’s heaven. A photographer’s paradise. A lazy bum’s piece of heaven.
Am I going overboard describing the place? I cannot seem to be able to put into words how beautiful and peaceful the place was. I had forgotten the joy of just being… without running your life to a clock… lunches, dinner, waking up, appointments and all that. And yes, a day when your cellphone does not beep.
Life is simpler there. The biggest decisions being what time you want to wake up and what to have for lunch.
But once you leave, there are some really massive questions facing you. Like – how quickly can you get back there.
