It was one long week filled with two faraway trips- first to Anantapur and a day later, to Visakhapatnam. My travel stars seem to be shining a bit too brightly for my own good for I am making too many trips. The week before even while I was sweating it out in some godforsaken village in Anantapur, I got a call from my office saying I have to go to Vizag for two days, alone. I couldn’t say no because I had refused to go on a one day trip to Vizag only recently because of bungled train bookings. This time I had no choice so I agreed and also because I love to visit any place that is by the sea. The trip had more downs than ups but when it is an unscheduled and unplanned one it is only expected.
It was sometime after midnight on Saturday that we reached Hyderabad from Anantapur nearly four hundred kilometers away. I had just one day to recover from the heat of Anantapur before catching a late night train to Vijayawada. I planned to catch another train to Visakhapatnam, the Ratnachal Express that starts at half past six in the morning. I thought I’d have two hours at Vijayawada to freshen up. The train I had caught was a special train and instead of reaching Vijayawada at its scheduled time of ten minutes past four in the morning it was still somewhere on the outskirts at six in the morning. It stopped at a place for a long time making me anxious if I’d be able to catch my connecting train. The train reached Vijayawada at half past six and luckily for me the connecting train was just across the platform ready to leave. Moments after I got in, the train started moving.
It was past noon when I reached Visakapatnam for the second time in six months. It was in December that I had last been to this beautiful place. The first and also the best surprise of the trip happened right away. My accommodation was arranged in a guest house right on the Beach Road with the sea only a few meters away across the road. I was ecstatic. It was a simple room with a double bed and a window that opened out to a great view of the sea. All weariness vanished and after lunch I was joined by another local officer and we left in a Bolero to a village in Bhimli. It was another of those boring tasks where I have to visit interior villages and meet the farmers. I could manage only one such meeting before returning to the guest house late in the evening. It had become dark and I couldn’t spend time at the beach though I took a walk along the road that was crammed with people. But it was morning I was eagerly waiting for.
The last time I was in Vizag I had to walk for quite a distance to get to the beach but this time it was different. At the crack of dawn I simply woke up and sauntered across the road to the beach to look at the sunrise. It was wonderful. The cool breeze added to the joy. Of course, there were a lot of people around, people taking their morning walk, people running and some (like me) simply sitting on the wall and watching others. I guess people who live by the seaside are more relaxed than those who live in the interior. It shows on their peaceful countenances as they walk by. I had my morning tea sitting by the sea enjoying the cool morning breeze. I thought this moment was worth the long trip.
I had planned to return on the second day but tickets were not available and moreover I got late in the villages. This time around I traveled by a variety of vehicles. If it was a Bolero on the first day, it was an ancient white Ambassador for half of the second day and a Maruti Omni van for the rest of the time. In Visakhapatnam there is a lot of jungle on hills that dot the landscape. There is plenty of greenery but it doesn’t mean it isn’t hot. It was very hot as I traveled from village to village. The sweat clung to the body like a second skin. I must have passed through dozens of villages in the two days I was there in Visakhapatnam.
Of course, my hosts were very generous treating me like I had landed from the moon. We had lunch at a small village. One thing I love about the people who live in the villages is their hospitality. Every one joins to make you as comfortable as possible. The villagers made me, the visitor from Hyderabad, feel as if I was from another planet. They stood around me, dishes in hand, ready to fill my plate the moment I finished some item. They were so serious in their intention to ensure I had a good a meal that it filled me with a lot of gratitude for them. And when I am in such a mood I don’t like to say no to anything, not even if it is food that I am allergic to. So I had double helpings of thick, white curd, sweets served lovingly by the simple folk. It was a wonderful meal made memorable by the love with which the total strangers served it. Half hour after I had that heavy lunch I had butter milk at another place. Then minutes later I had tea at another village. Another village and I got a glassful of sugarcane juice fresh from a crusher. I simply couldn’t say no because they were so insistent that I have something in their village and I did not have the heart to disappoint anyone.
Whichever way you look at it, agriculture is a boring and deadly dull subject. It doesn’t help that those working in the agriculture department are also boring and extremely dull. Not that I am very interesting myself, but almost every one I meet in the department turns out to be dull and boring. But on this trip I met two individuals bound by a mutual passion- music. Both of them turned out to be serious fans of the great singer- Ghantashala. Not only that they too were singers. So they sat in the car and sang one song after another of Ghantashala. One of the guys had a voice that was good, almost like the great singer himself, and also sang quite well. They sang all the way to Visakhapatnam discussing each song in great detail.
On every trip anywhere I plan to do at least two unexpected things. The visit to the beach in the early morning was the first but I did something else on the third day, the day I left Visakhapatnam, that made me pleased but also left me quite exhausted. I’ll leave it for the post on Friday.
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