In the clasp of the Arabian Sea

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Keen to beat the morning rush of tourists on the highways, we rode out early from Navi Mumbai, at around 6 am. With a tank full of petrol, we reset the trip meter at Panvel and started off towards Vadkhal Naka on the NH17. While taking a left at Vadkhal Naka would have taken us on to the Mumbai-Goa highway, we continued straight ahead towards Alibaug and onto Murud. After reaching Janjira, we came across the first of the three ferries that we were going to take that day. 

Amidst all the excitement, both of us had completely forgotten about breakfast, and as soon as we got off the bikes on the ferry, my stomach started to rumble in disapproval. We nervously looked at each other as we realised that we weren’t going to find any food in the middle of the sea. However to our surprise, the ferry boat had its own food stall, where both of us gorged on wafers and cold Frooty. The ferry at Murud Ferry Point took us to Dighi, where we got back on our bikes and started riding towards Shrivardhan. 

Until this point, we had mostly encountered straight roads where we had been steadily cruising at 70 to 80 kmph. From here though, we noticed an abrupt change in the roads’ pattern as they started to narrow down and become more challenging. The air was suddenly filled with the symphony of the Classic 500’s bassy thump and the CBR250R’s harsh screech as we started to have some actual fun. The corners kept coming one after the other at a comfortable distance, and before we knew it, both of us started tackling the corners at a fairly decent pace. The weather had started to warm up by now and as we rode up to the main road, a small hotel sign caught our attention. We stopped to grab some ‘real’ breakfast and a few bottles of water. We devoured the spicy missal pav and piping hot wada pav that the kind hotel owner made especially for us, along with ginger tea. Our bikes, the saddlebags on the Classic 500 and our riding gear seemed to have a strange impact on others as kids from the nearby village gathered around and gazed at us as if we were some sort of ‘adventurers’. With our appetites satisfied, we got back on our motorcycles and looked forward to some more spirited riding. 

 

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It turns out that, while the route did have some interesting curves, the roads were in pretty bad shape for most of the part. And when I say pretty bad, imagine potholes the size of moon craters. These bad patches kept showing up out of nowhere and continued for long distances, severely affecting our average speed. While Pratheek kept taking on these potholes with considerable ease, thanks to the cushy suspension on the Classic 500, my CBR250R struggled to absorb all of these undulations.  

But when you calculate the average, for every kilometre of these broken roads, we got to experience a few hundred metres of pure exhilaration, which made all of my back pain and fatigue totally worth it. Every time the road smoothened out, we felt a renewed sense of optimism as we looked forward to the few kilometres of spirited riding on the beautifully tarred roads. And despite all the exhaustion, all we had to do for motivation, was look to our right towards the vast expanse of sand and the sea.  

We kept carrying a comfortably brisk pace throughout most of the journey as we passed Shrivardhan and Harihareshwar, from where we took the second ferry to Velas. From Velas, the scenery kept alternating between the greenery of the foliage and the gold of the serene beaches. Past these coastal roads, we encountered another delightful section of ghats through the Velvi Kelshi road, after which we stopped at a local hotel for lunch. We were disappointed as our search for some Konkani food turned out to be fruitless and we had to settle for a run of the mill thali. From here on, the jugalbandi of smooth roads and bad patches continued right through Ladhgar and Dapoli and Dabhol, where we took the third ferry. Despite setting out at 6 am earlier that day, the combination of bad roads and our frequent stops meant that we had taken almost 11 hours to cover the 300 kilometres. We had planned to reach Velneshwar by sunset to shoot some good pictures, however our chances of reaching the destination on time seemed very bleak. Once we got off the third ferry, we set out on the last stage of our ride in full attack mode, and helping our cause was the butter smooth tarmac. 

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Our spirited riding proved fruitful as we reached Velneshwar perfectly in time for the sunset, and the glittering beach was finally within our reach! And though we were drenched in sweat by the time we reached there, the sea breeze brought along a wave of freshness along with it. We hurriedly checked into our room and set up the camera to capture the few fascinating moments, as the sun descended behind the mountain. The Velneshwar beach in itself was a wonderful place and except for a handful of tourists and locals, the place was completely isolated. While we did stop short of taking a dip in the sea, we could almost experience the sea thanks to the crisp wind whipping through the palm trees and the soothing sound of the waves crashing onto the shore. 

At night, both of us set out on a hunt for some dinner on the Classic 500. It turns out that because of the lack of tourists frequenting this place, you have to place an order at the hotel about an hour in advance. So after taking a short spin around the village, we both returned to the smell of delicious freshly prepared food that the cheerful cook had prepared for us. While Pratheek gorged on the chicken and authentic local cuisine, my dinner was a humble affair comprising of vegetarian thali and solkadhi. 

As we turned back to go to our hotel, a beautiful sight met our eyes. It was day of total lunar eclipse, when the moon was supposed to turn red. While the slated time had passed away, we both were still left spellbound by the magnificence of the full moon as it cast a shadow on Classic 500, highlighting the bike’s time-honoured silhouette.  At night, alienated from WiFi and a television connection, we sat on the sea-facing balcony. The sea makes you realise the endlessness of the horizon and our universe and the amazing quantum of smaller yet exciting things. I slowly drifted off to sleep whilst gazing at the moon and the stars, and experiencing the mystical pull of the beach at the same time. 

Despite the late night tryst with the celestial bodies, we woke up early next morning, to the sound of birds chirping and the smell of pristine air and scrumptious kanda-poha. While the prospect of riding another 320 kilometres did excite us, we were quite disappointed to leave behind a place so beautiful. Unwillingly both of us freshened up and started putting our stuff back in the bag and got onto our motorcycles for the ride back home. 

This road trip didn’t just give me a glimpse of the true potential of my motorcycle, but also taught me a lot of things about riding. And even as I look back at the photos, I can almost sense the tranquility of the beach and fun we had while riding down to the place. When it comes to riding, whatever might be your preference – highway touring or canyon carving, Velneshwar is one of the best places to ride down to. We had decided to go to Velneshwar to escape urban chaos, and freedom is what we got. Even on the weekend, the place was free of the throng of tourists, and gave us a few sacred hours of solitude. I had arrived here as an eager rider with minimal interest in sightseeing, but one look at the setting sun and the horizon had transformed me into an aesthete.