KONKAN CRUISE
“TAKE THE i20 TO THE beach,” suggests the Ed. “The seaside in the rains is a bucketload of fun.”
I need no further enticement nor convincing. I’m always game for an off-thebeaten-track detour and a drive to the west coast in pouring rain seems like the perfect off-beat getaway. Out with the map and I scour the coastline for the most attractive prospects. I see a little wiggle of tarmac between Diveghar and Srivardhan that plays hide and seek with the Arabian Sea. That’s where we are going. And if the beach turns out to be a no show, we’ll have a scenic drive by the seaside for consolation.
The new Hyundai i20 Elite is our getaway car. From the driver’s seat this car feels way different than its predecessor. Bigger, roomier and loaded with features, the interior feels great. I have owned the previous i20 and liked its design but the new edition has taken styling up quite a big notch. The Alfa inspired rear looks especially stunning.
Konkan, here we come. My comrade-in-arms Vikrant and I, we make an early start, at dawn, and zipping along the uninhabited roads, we set course for Diveghar. The ANS Navigator phone app guides us to Tamhini Ghat via Mulshi. Traffic is sparse on the road to Mulshi, and with the long sweeping bends, I’m getting into the swing of things from the driver’s perch. The little car takes in the occasional rough patch without ruffle.
We’re going at a fair click to make quick time and the Hyundai seems ever so willing. Post the momentary lag there is a reassuring flow of torque, ensuring brisk progress. The slick gearbox with its short throws is a joy to use and offers the right incentive to surf the wave of
We cruise along the Konkan coast, discover a secluded beach and gorge on zingy Malvani cuisine
torque.
The improved dynamics are instrumental in making the new i20 handle far better around corners. There is noticeably less body roll and lots more grip that in tandem allows an assured cornering at speed. A more communicative steering would elevate the driver’s experience further.
We stop at Mulshi for some refreshment. As we get going again, the inconsequential showers have evolved into a torrential downpour. I have to set the wipers whisking away the water off the windshield at full whack to ensure maximum visibility.
When the rains ease off, we find ourselves amidst a lush green environment. The road winds up between mountain cliffs, spewing down streams of water – and on the other side are backwaters. It’s a watery world and to raise the enchantment quotient, a mist rolls down from the mountain top.
Tamhini Ghat is a very popular tourist spot over weekends, but on a Monday our journey is unimpeded by picnicking throngs. It’s a fun drive as we roll down the ghats and on to the plains. We drive through narrow B-roads that take us to NH 66. Given the expanse of open highway and the absence of traffic, I stomp down on the throttle. This is a car with exemplary poise as the high speed jaunt in
pouring rain proves.
Turning off the highway, we head west on Mangaon Road and from Mhasala village, we turn right towards Diveghar. The pelting rain is a constant companion and the road surface is submerged under water. I slow down as precaution; no sense in aquaplaning into the adjoining paddy fields from where we’d need to be rescued and hauled out.
The Diveghar bypass road snakes up a mountain shrouded by thick forest. It’s a singlelane and we are forced on to the broken edge every time there is an oncoming car or bigger four-wheeler. The generous ground clearance aided by the chunky 16-inch wheels proves to be a big boon. There are random stray herds of cattle we must also keep an eye out for.
We have made good time, reaching Diveghar by 11am. The first item on the agenda is the beach. Some scouring around is in order. A local points straight ahead, telling us to take the “pocket road”. That sounds homely if not a trifle intriguing. We move on in the forward direction. And the ‘pocket road’ turns up at an intersection. There’s a makeshift sign, an arrow with a handwritten ‘beach’ on it. Pocket road is more than an apt description, for a muddy path half a lane wide.
We drive up the narrow path at snail’s pace. To our amazement, a red coloured edifice looms up ahead. A historic one at that, it’s a temple built between 800AD and 1300AD, during the Shilahara dynasty reign. We stop for a look.
In the holy of holies is a Lord Vishnu idol, depicting his ten ‘avatars’. The idol is hewn from a single piece of green and black granite sourced from the jungles of Madhumala. Legend has it that in 1500AD, the Portuguese attempted to take away the idol on a ship, that
The improved dynamics are instrumental in making the new i20 handle far better around corners
was struck by a storm and sank in the Arabian Sea. The precious idol however, was retrieved from the sea bed and brought back to the temple. Given its origins, the temple is remarkably well preserved and quite a monument, with its rich heritage. Sight-seeing done, it’s time to comb the beach. The road we take runs parallel to the beach. And no surprise, we are the only combers on the beach, owing to the incessant rain. The sea looks turbulent, crashing into shore amid plumes of foam. This is no time to frolic. We click some photographs and leave.
There’s a promising stretch of tarmac running along the sea front. The Borli Panchahatam-Srivardhan Road links Diveghar and Srivardhan and it’s a pretty picturesque stretch.
It’s a seascape full of suspense and dramatic discovery. A sea vista makes way for a mountain backdrop as we cruise along the winding road that drops like a stone and then clambers up a mountainside. A sheer cliff on one side and a dizzy drop on the other side, I must muster all my will to keep my eyes on the road.
There is always a sense of discovery, of revelation, in a place you have never been before. It is likely to take your breath away, with the impact of the unexpected, of what you have never experienced before.
Our moment of discovery came when we least expected it. Between the grey gloom of sky and sea there was nothing we were looking at or for. And then as if in a dream we came upon a magnificent seascape. The
road climbs up a crest and vanishes into the sea, the curve of the coastline separating the sky and sea. Words can do no justice to its panoramic vista stretching up to the horizon. And then like an epiphany, a ray of sunshine slashes across the gray and lights up the sea to a shimmering, moulten carpet of gold. It was like the hand of God painting a landscape for our eyes alone, a vast, luminous extravaganza, for just two mortal spectators. I get goosebumps even now, recollecting it. Vikrant is of course recording it for posterity, catching the glory before it fades.
Down to more earthly realities, hunger pangs have set in and we are due our share of the fabled Malvani food. We find a seaside restaurant and Vikrant the vegetarian and me the carnivore spend the next hour or so digging in to the tasty, tangy repast.
It’s a fitting finale to our coastal cruise. The drive back to Pune is under an unrelenting downpour, and accompanying fog. A beach getaway in the monsoons has its rewards, you can be sure.
India | October 2014