The sky was the colour of brazen ash, with pockets of blemishes, never letting you forget that it was monsoon. After ascending the hill to Madikeri, finding the way to the budget hotel was a no brainer. There were innumerable private sign boards that lead you to your respective stays. The hotel manager was obviously courteous, as he knew we were coming from Bharatonline. My watch confirmed it was 11am, which meant we had made it in five hours flat, taking into account, the countless halts we had taken.
I wouldn’t even talk about how we crashed into our bunks without even caring to see what’s there for breakfast. At around 4 in the evening we got feeling of strange anguish… goodness heavens we were famished. The next thing we knew is we were already on our bike, frantically searching for a decent joint to gratify our cantankerous tummies.
An old road side dhaba was just the perfect antidote. The way the waiter would go on about why we should go for the freshly baked Tandoori chicken in the misty rain was a hard experience. It was hard because we could scent the food, he made us visually imagine it and yet food was ten minutes away from us..gosh. The foggy drizzle outside was in a strange way very inviting. I always had a sinus issue but hilly view from the dhaba was beyond enticing. The food arrived and vanished and more came in and kept vanishing at equal speed. The chilly air and the 5 hour bike ride had made monsters out of us and we kept gormandizing.
The GPS showed that the Abbey Falls was hardly 10 Km away from where we were. No question asked, Kshitiz roared the bike into action and we fell prey to nature’s contraption! We could’nt decide whether the road to Abbey Falls was more twisty or narrow. Dusk was fast approaching as we steadily cut through the forested road and kept ascending. Kshitiz’s enthusiasm was definitely overawing the slight spooky feeling that quietly crept in. Abbey Falls was located in a private property, tucked away completely from any sign of humanity. At 6 in the evening, when we reached the place, the only thing that informed its presence was a battered board written in Kannada. The silence of the place was chilling, and we confidently marched our way into the property.
Darkness had nearly set in and the stone steps were the only thing separating the heavy undergrowth from kissing us. A good ten minutes of descending and we heard a familiar roar. We plunged through the final turn and were able to witness the breathtaking phenomenon under the dying sun. From a distance it seemed was as if molten fumes slowly poured over the rocky textures and quietly melted into the stream below. You go nearer and the raging white waters make a deafening sound, a sight that could only be defined as an elfin façade.
The sun had withdrawn, but still the fall kept reflecting the twilights, making everything around us go blue; the moment was magical. Stars announced the nightfall and curious sounds reminded us that we were in a forest. Reality struck back and we started clambering back. It was for a good 30 minutes that we stood bewitched with what surrounded us. We hurried back to our bike (partially because we thought something was following us)!
In moments of such solitude, even a scurry in the bushes, or a faint whisper in the winds is enough set your imagination going bonkers! The R15 ignited some much needed confidence, and we went absconding that very moment!
