Konquered by Konkan

 Traveling on the Konkan rail is something that my husband has often spoken about and I  decided that it was time to translate that into action.

A day journey, to best savour the sights on offer, was planned, and we traveled from VT to Ratnagiri on the Mandovi Express. And what a delightful journey it was. Bright green grass formed a smooth carpet, interspersed with forests, which were a tufted deep green carpet. Sundry streams meandered. Translucent, mother of pearl clouds held the sway in some parts of the sky, dark glowering clouds in other parts. The second longest train tunnel in India, the Karbude tunnel, made one marvel at the engineering effort involved in realizing the Konkan Rail project; all along the route, boulders and steep cliff sides were covered with a net to prevent landslides. The stations were charming, with stunning backdrops. Vinehere was especially pretty. Not in the same league as Barog, but charming nevertheless.

As for the rest of our holiday, I must confess that I did spend some time wondering whether I should write this blog at all. The villages, the people, the vista were so unspoilt, that I want no part in changing that.

We stayed at a home-stay run by Medha Sahasrabudhe and her mother at their farm in the Kotawade village in Ratnagiri. The rooms were charming, made with blocks of red laterite stone, which is obviously Ratnagiri signature style when it comes to building dwellings. Some of the furniture was built in, a la Laurie Baker. Sloping roofs, with an occasional transparent roof tile to let in natural light. The loo was an absolute delight- natural light, palms visible through a high window while you showered, the run off watering a plant growing within the loo itself.  No mundane tiles here, broken plates formed the floor and the platform.

A shallow stream flowed past, about 30 yards from the room. You could walk across it, or just sit beside it and let the sound of water soothe the senses.  And then, all tranquil and quiet, you could walk through the village, and soak in some more peace and “unhurriedness”.

Food was delicious though simple. Konkani fare was  a new flavor, a mix of the familiar tinged with tamarind and coconut, which made it unusual.

This was my first experience of a home stay. If checking the count on the bed-sheets or obsequious service is your style, then this is not the place for you. But if natural surroundings, tended by welcoming people who are themselves, a cuppa chai with conversation about this and that, a leisurely walk with no destination and no interruptions by noise, traffic or hoardings is what delights you, then this will be perfect.

This entire holiday had been planned via the internet. When looking for a place to stay in Ganapatiphule, I had come across Jayesh, who runs a travel site called “The Western Routes”. He recommended Ratnagiri instead and sounded responsible and enthusiastic. I decided to go along – this was meant to be a surprise holiday for my husband, and not in his WILDEST dreams would he have thought of Ratnagiri.  Everything fell into place with the planning and later the holiday itself, and I must appreciate Jayesh for the same.

Day two of the holiday, we drove down deeper into the district, to Girish Bondre’s farm in Deoghar. Mr. Bondre used to work for the Sakal, a Marathi newspaper, for 27 years. He then decided to come back to his roots and look after his ancestral farm spread over 150 acres. The farm was a marvel of beauty and enterprise. This was no  absentee landlord; his love for the land and its bounty was obvious, as was his hard work. The most delightful part of our trip was this waterfall in the Bondre Farm. Refreshing water gushed into a tub like space which you sat in, nestled by rocks above and around you.  The child in you just wanted to stay there and the memory brings back smiles.

 In Ratnagiri, rice is grown in wide terraces on the hillside, the sides of the terraces lined with red laterite stone to hold in rainwater. Mid August, the rice is an even knee length, an even deep green, undulating to the breeze in the valley. When we walked down to Mr. Bondre’s farm, the rice fields were being watched  over by a spare, lithe, senior citizen, her face creased by my attempts at conversation in rudimentary Marathi. Like wise on the way back, only the gender had changed. Blessed souls, to be surrounded by peace and beauty.

The windows of traditional Konkani houses have vertical  square wooden slats that let in the view, the light and the breeze. I wonder if this architectural style finds an echo in the urban landscape.

The Arrey Warrey beach is the same vicinity, but we had no time to go beachcombing. Saw it from a distance on the drive back and wished we had more time. The drive back, through forests and foliage, rivers and rain, was a joy in itself, till we hit “progress” and then it was downhill, pun intended.

Cant resist a cliché, Ratnagiri was  a jewel indeed.