THUMB-RULE OF ANY TRIP: DO NOT TRAVEL WITH ANY CREATURE WITH YOU WHOM YOU DON'T GO ALONG. Other than that fifth creature (masquerading as human), the summary of this post would be - the rest four of us had a brilliant time in Pensacola beach. Asish da, Vijay, Pradeep and me. And this is the trip I realized that I am really good in the seat beside the driver (the "shotgun seat" as they call it here).
Not even a month in the US and I am already in the Sunshine State of Florida. When people say "Florida" its either Miami or Orlando that comes to mind. But given the kind I am (a misfit in party beaches and an unamused being in amusement parks), I had to go for a place more filled with openness. Thankfully, the rest of the group thought so too. So, we headed for Pensacola - a 10 hour drive from Lexington.Not realizing that the Jack D distillery remains closed on Thanksgiving, an extra 100 mile on the road cost us more than an hour and half more than what we had expected to reach our hotel in the beach town. With the excitement barely in containment, we headed for the beach in when it was already dark and I was glad we did. It was an innocently secluded it was - shining in its own white sand under the feeble moonlight. The best part was - no one else was seen around. We could see the water, we dipped our feet in it and re-realized that it was a night time at the fag end of November. It was a little thrilling.Next morning, the party sat out to see the sunrise. I was still in disbelief that I was actually in Florida. But after I stepped out of the car at the beach parking, I breathed the cold air, breathed it out with an unnecessary extra effort and told myself - "Okay, but get to business. Use the "awe" feeling in you photos." The long thin white beach was still not crowded and had plenty of mindless runs. It was morning and the sun was only a giant "i" on the water and sky. The excitement in all of us took a formal shape when Pradip decided to just run... and decided to do it into the flock of gulls.
A drive on the
road by the beach and you seem to be reaching the edge of the last land
on this earth. There is the road you are driving and there is sand on
both of your sides and then there is water, the blue which could inspire
emeralds.
After having some breakfast at a gas station, it was time to do what they call "hitting the beach". The camera took some rest as the water-wears took positions. But honestly, it was not very pleasant. Being inside the warm water was rather a more comfortable state than standing back up and let the (November) wind kiss you all over. Shivering, after 30 minutes or so, we all decided to stop convincing ourselves that we are enjoying the draft wearing those wet cloths and went out to get into something dryer. (After we were inside something dryer, i specifically noticed that ours was the only car in that parking lot which had cloths spread all over it for drying!)
As the sun traveled lower and towards the horizon turning red, some crazy idea came to me to ignore any kind of jacket on purpose and try to photograph the setting sun from the pier. Mr. Das had no idea how mischievously pricking the wind can be at the end of that pier which runs more than quarter of a mile into the gulf. To add to my annoyance, the sun looked only prettier after I had just taken a shot of it. I kept of clicking, strictly hiding my heat (cold) sensitive body clad only in a t-shirt and bermuda shorts, behind those neck high and a feet wide concrete pillars. Just like the way I could not let go off the setting sun, the wind would not let go off me. Finally, it sat. The night was not very eventful... some food... and sleep. Next day was our visit to the distillery of the famous Jack Daniel's whiskey in Tennessee on our way back home. And a Thanksgiving feast was waiting for us along with many of our friends and their families at our apartment.
And by the time I had gone to sleep that night, I already had some ideas where my next trip was going to be.
“Mrigank, Malobika, Avisek, Jayasree, Manoj, Jyoti, Kamalendu, Thank you for the trip. I mean it.”
A quick thought at the office in the middle of the week, some quicker agreements, some useful research, balancing the budget and in the end all was set for Mandarmani. Eight heads but more than just eight hearts. The week finally ended and Kolkata saw our waving hands when we rode NH6 towards Kolaghat. From there, NH41 till Nandakumar and from Nandakumar SH4 to a cross road called Chawlkhola. From there a 15km drive southwards to Mandarmani.
The weather overall could not have been better. To everybody’s delight it rained a very soothing and balanced amount and people expressed their agreement with the meteorological thoughts of the sky of West Bengal by trying to suppress the voice of the singers from the car’s music system with their own (in a good way).
A totally energy filled four hours and we were at our beach resort. Once the bunch had witnessed the water, it was very hard (even for a hydrophobic like me) to stay away from it. During the high tide hours, the water is at the very footsteps of the resort. Needless to say, I put my camera to rest and joined in the party. The waves are of the perfect height for sea bathers and if one is only able to stay away from those submerged boulders during the high tides, it is a very (very) refreshing experience (duh!). I came out of the water before anybody else as the clouds had now stopped making those marvelous patterns. I wanted to capture those which were still left in the view.
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After everybody was out of the water (and dried off) and had a good lunch, the exploration of the beach begun. The water had now receded and a good width of the sandy stretch between the sea and the hotel was available for us to walk.
-->We had more than two hours with us before we had to place the order for dinner. (before 7 in the evening you have to place that so that things get ready by 9). Now everybody was only enjoying the atmosphere. Some the wind, some the drizzle, some the lonliness.
-->Suddenly, when the we-are-in-a-group air came back we all decided to take an almost a kilometer long ride in those motor operated van rickshaws to explore the coastal stretch a bit more. The most magnificant thing that I was lucky enough to witness was the reflection of the clouds. I have seen glamorous sunsets on various beaches, but such a magnificant overcast weather was a first time experience.
The group I was with, strangely enough, was not busy in getting themselves photographed much here. There is a strange urge in everyone of us to tell the world – "look, I was here". But in that evening I think, it was more about inhaling the atmosphere of Mandarmani than making arrangements of the proofs of travel.
To be able to meet that ‘only me’ in that wide open space does take you a little above the tangled materialistic thoughts. (Although, this was more powerfully experienced by me later, the next morning. Will come to it).
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By the time we were back, without witnessing a proper golden sunset, we saw the entire sky (and its reflection on the earth and sea) turning pure blue. Upon looking at this picture, one of my friends had said: "It feels sad". Truly speaking, the colour did bring out a little of those violin strokes from my past too which have still remained unbalanced.
When it grew darker, my camera finally displayed an empty battery and signalled me to actually join the group to enjoy a tea in that breeze. After the tea and snacks, Avisek, Kamalendu, Manoj and I had a funny ordeal in the rain to find a particular way, via a bus stand, and then to get back to our hotel. Once back, all of us had a fantastic adda-cum-bakwaas session at the top of the resort's sliding board (ssilip as it got termed later among us). After the dinner, the session took place On the Rocks during the High tides.
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Next morning, I was the one to wake up first and go out in the beach to see sunrise. Sadly it was still cloudy. But I was lucky enough to carry my music player with me when I went out in that ungodly hour.
When you are alone in that first light of the day with such an open space all around you accompanied by the most final sound for a land dweller, the waves, you truly start to believe that there is someone called you, exists. It is not a feeling of lonliness that creeps inside you, but a feeling of love for some simple facts like “yes, I too can see, I too can listen”. And half of the credit for such a feeling goes to the poetry (called Imran’s poetry) being played in my music player then. Written by Mr. Javed Akhtar, narrated by his son Farhan Akhtar from the movie Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara. I know how I kept my aching throat under control. But the eyes were tougher to tame. Thankfully noone was close enough to make me feel embarrassed.
-->Before the rain started for the day, I got a little time to explore the shore. The water again had went back during the night. There were water holes like this all over the beach which, upon having a closer look, were giving away some curios forms to see.
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After some more time, the rain started. The hotel had open shades with straw roofs facing the beach. It was a treat to just sit there getting a little wet with the rain carried in by the wind, listening to some music, talking to a few starngers about the good and bad of the place, sharing a few jokes with them and looking at the sea through the falling droplets.
-->Everybody else from our party started to wake up gradually. It was raining rather a bit heavily but the satisfaction after a perfect sleep on everybody’s face was making it sunny enough. People are stressed enough in office. The morning made the break look a well deserved one.
During breakfast, we got the news that the rain has worsened the road to Mandarmani Mohona which we were planning to visit after checking out. So, we decided to go to the Digha Mohona instead. Mohona is a Bengali word for the place where a river meets the sea, a canal mouth. It took a drive of about half an hour to reach this place.
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I dont know which river exactly comes and meets the sea here (nor I did any research), but whichever one does, does turn really wild upon meeting with its superclass. It starts to show waves in itself and it becomes very difficult to say, more so during the high tides, where it seizes to become a river and starts boasting of being Bengal's Bay.
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But this was not all. A path made of concrete blocks goes a little inside the waters and our party was lucky enough to see the wild side of the untamed shore. Most of our cloths got wet with the random slaps of the waves on the block, but if you are able to keep your cameras dry, you would find the experince of standing on that four feet wide way amusingly thrilling.
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After getting my jeans completely splased with the sea water, I decided not to stay there anymore. There were water drops seen on the sensitive areas of my camera too. So, for the sake of that device I headed back to our vehicle.
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The place basically serves as a wholesale market for fishermen and the traders. One reaches the Mohona after walking through the huge market (a walk of roughly five minutes).
There is a road wide enough for a vehicle to pass easily but believe me when I say, you will be able to inhale some air only when you have reached in front of the gent’s saloon in the middle of the market which smells of shaving cream and aftershave. During rest of the road, its better that you hold your breath.
From the Mohona, we went a little ahead to the town of Old Digha. There was a long photo session there also, then there was a bargaining chapter for cashew nuts and then a lunch.
Thanks to the decision by Kamalendu to bring a USB drive stuffed with some fabulous songs and the occasional stunt-driving by our driver on the highway, we had no trouble in staying awake even on our journey back to Kolkata. The ladies although enjoyed a short post lunch nap but I am sure hey were finding it rather difficult due to the noise-over-the-cards in the rearmost seats by the other boys.
Roughly around 5 in the evening, we were closing Kolkata. On passing the last toll-gate, the sight of the Vidyasagar Setu with that clear sky in its backdrop filled in a sense of relief. No matter where I go and how much I enjoy the entire tour, the feeling of “yes, I am home now” is the most relaxing one.
Must say, this Mandarmani trip was much more fulfilling than a few more I had taken in the past. If you guys get some time, you can try out this place. But be sure to pack your best buddies, your good health, your camera, your music player and if you want, your alarm clock!
Wahida, Sunny, Hitesh, Poonam, Amlan, Masood, Reema, Kiran, Brijesh, Ankush, Swati, Shilpi, Nagarjuna, Kasturiah, Anjali, Kunal, Poulami, Santanu, Shyam, Ashish, Richa, Aneesh... Thanks a ton for letting me join the party and bearing me through out the trip. Needless to say it was one of my most fun outings till date. I felt a lot more welcome in the party than I had initially expected and a company of a few more made it worth remembering :) I had no idea that I will get to meet so many wonderful people at one go. You guys rock! ALL OF YOU!! \m/
Well... hello!
This year January, Bishan, Deepak and I were there at a place called Bakkhali, a beach nearby Kolkata. But we were there only for a couple of hours (detailed in the post Kakdwip, Bakkhali and Us) and were regretting the shortness of the span we got to spend. But a few days back, a whole battaleon from my office planned an entire day there and didnt mind counting me in. And about this post... well, this is my very own personal account of the outing.
To avoid being stuck behind at the queue at the NH-117 Namkhana ferry jetty, we started at the ungodly hour of 1 in the morning. 23 people, one minibus. It took us two and a half hours to cover the distance from Salt Lake to Namkhana. The empty roads helped us speed up but the sudden and frequent zero-visibility fog at made us slow down as compensation. Masood and I were in the front seats, he hammering the Kolavari di song on my eardrums and I giving him my shut-up gazes but at the same time we both were enjoying the opaque fog which would suddenly appear from absolute nowhere at regular intervals.
After many such ups and downs in our speedometer, we finally reached the Ferry ghat at 330 in the morning and to our surprize, we got to know that the ferry service starts at 7am and not a minute before. My camera performs remarkably poor in the night shots. Among the some dozing some loitering co-passengers, I had to wait for some natural lights to show up.
After it was 5 in the morning, I came out with my camera. This place you see above is the Namkhana Ferry Ghat. And the colour that you see here is close to the original colour that was there. I knew what was coming with some more light.
I waited over the jetty...
The small harbour comes to life even before the sun rays touches it. It gets filled with fish traders and their trawlers.
But as a single-day tourist (that I was that day), I could afford to overlook the daily hardships and concentrate on the scenic offerings. (Is anyone of you able to see the horizon?) Well... After a wait of three and half hours we were on the other side of the canal. The soothing sun from the window was doing a marvelous job in putting my night long awake eyes to sleep. I have never experienced this: Dragged to a comfortable sleep with the sun flashing on your eyes. Wow!
Aaa... I will shrink down the majority of our stay at the Bakkhali beach to just a summary. I wont detail much on how we were shocked to see the sea in its most tourist-repelling state (absolutely no waves, a visible piece of land after some distance in water and nearly a 6-8 minute walk on the sand to touch that waveless water) or on how the battalion of 23 accommodated in a single (15 x 20 ft) room or how we all took our beach-look avatars and first headed for breakfast and then hit the waves. I wont even start on how "yukk" it was to taste the first mili-litre of natually saline water after nineteen years or how devilish freezing the wind felt when we stood up in the water in wet clothes (and how damn good it was to just sit neck deep inside the relatively hot water). I wont try to recollect how badly I was hurting my own throat trying to shout in the water along with a few of those who feature in the first paragraph of this post. No doubt it was crrrrazy but I will tell you about them later... But what I will never tell you about is how cruelly funny the sea can become when it comes to someones favorite sunglasses...
Anyway, after the beach adventure and a good lunch, I headed for the beach again to capture something more. I had no clear idea what I wanted to shoot but I started.
They don't put small umbrellas in your drink but surely a lazy and relaxing evening at a beach goes hardly towards perfection without a Daab paani (tender coconut water). Although I didn't have one myself, but I found his silhouette speaking of the essence.
I don't know fortunately or unfortunately, I was alone with my camera (and the mp3s in my phone) when I was in the beach. While taking a short stroll and looking around to see things that wont be visible after its dark, I found these two little girls.
It is probably in human nature that nothing gives him more happiness than the belief that he is free. The very first look at a beach stretching from the left most corner of your eyesight to the rightmost itself implants that sense. People become poets, lovers, believers. And I guess, nothing matches the limits of happiness when a bucket full of uncorrupt imagination is thrown in the midst of a beach full of sand. Yes... he thinks, he creates, he is happy, he is free.
Ahhmm! :) I guess the beach does have a little magic... I don't think anything else made me (me!) write down the above paragraph. And just like the way I have told it a numerous times... You have to BE there to feel it. No way else you will know what exactly this blogger is trying hard to describe.
And once you are there, you wont need words to feel it...
Not realizing that the Jack D distillery remains closed on Thanksgiving, an extra 100 mile on the road cost us more than an hour and half more than what we had expected to reach our hotel in the beach town. With the excitement barely in containment, we headed for the beach in when it was already dark and I was glad we did. It was an innocently secluded it was - shining in its own white sand under the feeble moonlight. The best part was - no one else was seen around. We could see the water, we dipped our feet in it and re-realized that it was a night time at the fag end of November. It was a little thrilling.Next morning, the party sat out to see the sunrise. I was still in disbelief that I was actually in Florida. But after I stepped out of the car at the beach parking, I breathed the cold air, breathed it out with an unnecessary extra effort and told myself - "Okay, but get to business. Use the "awe" feeling in you photos."
As the sun traveled lower and towards the horizon turning red, some crazy idea came to me to ignore any kind of jacket on purpose and try to photograph the setting sun from the pier. Mr. Das had no idea how mischievously pricking the wind can be at the end of that pier which runs more than quarter of a mile into the gulf. To add to my annoyance, the sun looked only prettier after I had just taken a shot of it. I kept of clicking, strictly hiding my heat (cold) sensitive body clad only in a t-shirt and bermuda shorts, behind those neck high and a feet wide concrete pillars. Just like the way I could not let go off the setting sun, the wind would not let go off me.
