When the windows of all habitable rooms in your house open on the main spine of the road network that leads to a major beach in less than 3 minutes; and if Ganpati can choose to be taken for Visarjan on any of these 1.5, 3, 5, 7, 9, 10 or 11 days, the thought of the clamorous cacophonous ear-splitting processions shudders you as much as it shudders your window panes. What do two people who are also given 5 day vacations (thank you Mumbai University) in that case do?
In all these years, we had never chilled in the Konkan/Sindhudurg belt north of Goa, so off we went to a village called Mhaapan in where we found an airbnb, whose first guests were going to be us! So we trusted the photos, made the bookings, got on a volvo, got dropped off someplace on the highway, walked under the highway flyover, shared a rickshaw with two aunties and their shopping of durva and hibiscus flowers for Ganpati among other things, hired a two-wheeler from Sawantwadi bazaar (incidentally, he only had a YELLOW dio! Don’t perfect holidays just happen!), and rode over an hour, towards the western coast to a remote network-less village called Mhaapan.
Once we were off the dusty under-repair highway, the ride was green as green can be. Network disappeared a good 25 kms before, and the drive on the hard laterite terrain and flat fields around felt like we were heading to the edge of the world. Who knew we would actually get there soon!
Mhaapan is the most peculiar beach-village ever, and thanks to its topography. In cross-section, the actual village is at least 60 feet above the sea level. There is a sharp drop in section and thus, there is hardly any sense of a beach close by when you’re up in the village – unless you know you are close to the coast. There is no direct road access; the only way to get to the beach is to walk downhill on a pagdandi through a dense grove of palm and cashew trees.
Of course we didn’t realize these levels on google maps, so once we reached the village, the main village road abruptly ended, and lead to a steep kachcha rasta going downhill and soon disappearing into nowhere. As we contemplated if we should walk the rest of the way or drive, Sandesh appeared out of nowhere on his bike and suggested I sit behind him i.e. the more experienced driver on this slope to the edge of the world. That would let Mikail only worry about bringing the dio downhill. What we saw when we parked our bike was TOTALLY OUT OF THE WORLD!
Since it was a busy weekend due to their own festival, we were the only guests they were hosting at this airbnb. The gorgeous beach huts were perched right on top of the water, the best spots to view the infinite ocean being the bench on the deck and the pot in the bathroom! We made it well in time for a sumptuous malwani veg-non-veg lunch of roti, chawal, daal, sabji-garnished-with-freshly-grated-coconut, pomfret/paplet fry, nimbu pickle, so(u)l kadhi and ganpati ke modak! Can’t even begin to describe how slurpilicious the sol kadhi was and how tender the coconut in everything. Couldn’t wait to nap and read until it was time to hit the beach 😀
As if the yellow bike, village, food, airbnb was not enough already, the beach was this not-so-tiny strip of sand with jagged projecting masses on both sides, thus locking any access to this beach and rendering it a seemingly private beach experience. We felt very Robinson Crusoe-ish on the beach and the sand and infinite waters became an extension to our bedroom!
Like private room leads to deck leads to private beach leads to a private sea! Nuts!!!
We did an early dinner – not because we were hungry, but because there was more fresh warm home-cooked delish malvani food prepared for us. It was served to us under an umbrella of coconut trees in their kitchen verandah when our host, Samata happened to mention she was going up to the village for Ganpati celebration at one of the village houses. In many ways, this place reminded me of The Enchanted Wood turned upside down – instead of climbing up the trunk to arrive at the fascinating lands up in the clouds, we were down at the sea-side and the rest of humanity was up the hillock. Upstairs was basically climbing upto the trail-level where our bike was parked and then walking up that slope for 10-15 minutes to get to the village square and the houses that surrounded it. What was common though was that this place was truly Enchanted.
As we started to walk up away from the coconut grove into the pitch of dark, we stopped short in absolute awe at what we saw above us. There was a clear studded sky, so starry and so spellbinding that we were utterly overwhelmed. The sea was pitch dark, except for the sound of the waves lashing the shore and a sliver of the sea that glimmered where the moonlight cascaded down the water. Infinitely magical. Sandesh got us some chairs to sit and sky-gaze as they often do themselves, and we lost sense of time and place taking it all in. I felt so rich and so poor in that moment all at once! How deprived we are in the cities of noise, that we cannot see this magic from where we are.
Upstairs in the village, the Pandharpuri bhajan mandalis went house-to-house performing bhajans on the dholak and manjeeras; neighbours gathered in houses that had the Ganpati idol, the men sang and danced, the women served snacks and sticky-sweet tea in tiny tea-cups with saucers. Hospitality at its sweetest warmest best 🙂
All mornings, like this one right here, we hope to have made Rinku, Nausheena and Vinutha very proud with some yoga on the beach (followed by a photo sess shh shh). With the endless ocean in front of us to ourselves, our ‘hearts opened’ like never before (and we imagine Rinku’s voice in our head saying open your heart).
This second day of our holiday and Ganpati, we headed to not-so-nearby Vengurla, to see the little town and its market, eat some famous seafood and visit its secret beaches. The drive was beautiful – the road snaked around the plentiful lush and ascended and descended multiple times before one could start seeing the beach from afar and atop – a vast expanse of gleaming white sand, unpopulated beaches and tiny coloured boats. We did a quick stop at the main fish and vegetable market and ghanta ghar, followed by lunch at Gajali and goofing around at Vengurla Bandar. From our window table at Gajalee, we eyed the clear white beach – and drove down to Sagareshwar. The Shree Sagareshwar temple – the God of the seas is secluded, secretive and has a most charming sunken courtyard in the midst of the coastal casuarina canopy. Too bad they are beginning to construct something right there in this quiet.
Of course all our meals for all the days were with our host, Samata and her mum and we wouldn’t stop raving about the great coconut-garnished meals and the quality of the bhaaji! Our hosts told us of how they grew their pesticide-free veggies up in the village and offered to show us around the vegetable garden and the fields! Also they said we could see their cow Aditya! So off we went with Sandesh and Samata who rode us up to the khet – and lead us through discovering the gravity-defying-yellow-flowering-unbelievable-ladyfinger-shrub and other veggies. And on our way back we went to an extension of the property to see the landlord’s gorgeous palm trees where all that tender coconut was coming from. A following morning, Sandesh very kindly took us for a trail walk around our stay – spotting cashew and mango trees along the path.
Apart from the village chilling, we went to the close by Khavne beach and the Hanuman Temple on the nearby hill for the views. Khavne has a tranquil patch of backwater and mangroves – which one may possibly miss spotting in absorbing the beach. Before the sun set over this last evening in Mhaapan, we went to the tiny village chowk to grab some vadapao and chai at a small local place – one where multiple sets of people share the same table. Mikail took the opportunity to get a quick shave at the very groovy Dilkhush Salon. We were hoping to eat some Malvani thaali at the bazaar but everything was shut for the festival. So we survived on the vadapao and ended up carrying some chips and things for dinner. It was the most other-wordly feeling to sit out on the deck till late in the night, and hearing the waves lashing at the foot of the hut. The only bit of the sea we could see was a sliver where the moonlight touched it.
To call it a trip, we headed back through Sawantwadi on a bus – and did two very fun things while we waited for our bus — chilled around Moti Talav where all streets seemed to lead, and went to buy some of the famed hand-made wooden toys that the place is famous for making. We got some wooden birds, a wooden fire-truck and a wooden bus before we headed to get on a real bus. Sigh.
This place had turned out to be a jewel! So sad to leave as I head to the city-life, but one may try and comfort oneself in knowing that one is always under a sky full of stars!
komikstrips 
When you end your story .. my imagination for it begins!
Love your travels and the blog komo!
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Thank you for reading Nosy 🙂 wish you lots of such travels
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Komal your travelogues not just make one wonder, how do you manage to find such hidden jewels but they are a succour for a stressed out city soul searching for some calm and serenity. One can, while reading actually visualise the entire vista and just wish…. Of course the humour in tiny moments is just the konkani spice to make this one of your best pieces till date
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Thank you for reading! Aren’t we glad writing can do so much and more!
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Lovely article Komal and I am sure the vacation would have been all the more exciting.
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Thank you for reading Ankit! 🙂
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