Our various experiences with taxis, Uber and otherwise, and their non-existent or non-functioning seatbelts, had decided us on using a reputable car-hire agent. Ram and his Etios car duly arrived as agreed, and at precisely 9.15 am, strapped into our seatbelts, we took the road for Kerala. It was to be a long day, at times it seemed, far too long. We wove our way out of Mysore, narrowly avoiding overladen buses, trucks, tuk tuks, private cars, taxis and motorbikes, nearly all of which were intricately decorated or adorned with a large selection of images that ranged from a panoply of Hindu deities including Ganesh and four armed Vishnu, to Mary and Jesus and their Sacred Hearts, themselves garnished with flowers or bursts of golden rays.
Soon we had left Mysore and its traffic behind us, and we began to relax. However, in almost no time at all, the young fresh faced and innocuous seeming Ram turned into Mr Toad on the Open Road, and from then on he toot-tooted his way bellicosely to Kerala. We sped through countless villages, small towns, past interesting looking temples, weaving in and out of roadworks, new building constructions, over bridges, along rutted dust roads, shorts stretches of super highways, and from time to time braking perilously as we reached toll booths. After a while, Nick gave up trying to ask him to slow down or explaining that it was extremely dangerous to overtake on a blind bend. “No problem sir, this my own vehicle, I take no chances…” We gave up and allowed fate to take its course, from time to time with eyes closed.
What little we saw and were able to photograph of the changing landscape looked interesting and much of it very beautiful, as at first gradually, and then dramatically through twenty seven hairpin bends we descended from the plateau through the Western Ghats to the coastal plain. Along the way we had seen dusty villages, some with palm roofed mud huts and some with newly built bungalows, some were poor and neglected and others were undergoing change and rapid development. Most were busy, well populated and made colourful by the apparel of the villagers and the decoration of the houses, temples, mosques and churches. We had seen paddy fields, lush palm groves, banana plantations, indigenous forests, lakes, rivers, hills and mountains, bullocks, cows, monkeys and signs warning us of the presence of leopards, though none in reality. And all this in only nine sometimes terrifying, but memorable hours, as at precisely 6.15 pm we arrived at our hotel. It was Christmas Eve and fortunately we had booked a room.
