Gokarna

After two months in India, overnight buses no longer phased us. The only tricky bit is finding the bus stop.  Keep the faith. Speak to as many locals as you can find, someone will know where you need to stand.

We had made a random decision not to fly from Kochi to Goa as we had previously planned.  We struggled with the availability of trains. But travellers and the internet told us we MUST visit Gokarna. Ditching the idea of travelling over Kerala for the option of travelling through Kerala.   Exactly on time, we hopped onto our bus.  

This was a special type of bus. It seemed to have no suspension and appeared to work in either ‘stop’ or ‘go’.  As a result, we slept exceptionally badly.  At 6.15 am we were deposited in Mangaluru.  Luckily our connecting bus left from the exact same spot, unluckily that was not for another eight hours.

Safe in the (fully researched) knowledge that there was nothing worth seeing in Mangaluru; we booked into a hotel and went to bed.

Six hours later I hopped across the road to McDonalds for two Paneer wraps.  Suitably refreshed, and refuelled we returned to the bus drop-off point for the 2.15 bus to Gokarna.  Again we arrived in the dark.  Deposited again at the side of a main road, but this time in the pouring rain.  A tuk-tuk took us to our guest house. Hopes were high for the morning, and the promises of Gokarna’s splendour.

I was disappointed in the morning. The dream said ‘lie in bed and watch the dolphins playing in the sea’. This wasn’t the reality. 
I had taken so much trouble to ensure that I was going to get the room with the view.  I had sent the owner a screenshot stating that ‘this was the room I wanted’. All agreed upon. 

The sun came up. We opened the curtains and discovered that the owner had embarked on building a room in front of our room. He said it was to fully utilise the view! My view was not of the sea but of breeze blocks. By the time we left, the view had also acquired a washing line and other people’s smalls.

Perhaps this strange turn of events should just be a funny story. But I also learned after having paid, that I had paid for adults sharing rather than two.  Our tiny guest house room had two double beds squeezed into it to accommodate my needs. We had to free up some space by standing one of the beds on its end.

Gokarna also didn’t live up to its hype.  There are some beautiful beaches in the area which we explored by scooter.  Om and Paradise Beach were stunning but the main beach in the holy town was a toilet.

The volume of rubbish on the beach was staggering.  And it’s entirely locally made, not swept in on the tide.  By walking up the beach away from areas of population the rubbish stops where the population stops.  There are JCBs being active on the beachfront car park. It was not clear if they were burying or unearthing the rubbish. Additionally, the amount of broken glass bottles within the sand was a major concern.  Overall the rubbish and the fish market was a toxic combination.

After three nights we checked out of Candlewood Guesthouse and walked up the Beach for half an hour. After enjoying a long breakfast we walked inland to ‘Art Karna’ our home for the next three days. A little homestay with a couple of cows set amongst trees and tricky monkeys. 

Hopefully, we will also find a restaurant that will actually bring us what we ordered….its a possibility but on past experience in Gokarna it seemed highly unlikely.

The three days at Art Karna passed peacefully with no trouble with the monkeys.  It turned out to be closer to the beach than we had imagined. Just a short Hop Skip and jump over the road and down a sandy track between two paddy fields.  As normal, our first choice of dinner venue became our regular haunt. I promise I wasn’t drawn to Namaste Sumatra by the cute resident puppy….honestly.  Evenings and mornings were spent chatting with Yuvi the owner’s representative trying to implement changes.  The coffee and food were good. A view to die for – not obscured by rubbish. Here the shack litter-picked the piece of beach immediately in front of it daily.

We drank tea and walked the local Step well.  The piped music, the flocks of birds, and the random cows, all made it feel like we had stepped into the cinematic opening credits of an Exotic Marigold Hotel movie.