Udupi to Kunnur: Chaos, Choices, and Indian Weddings
Yesterday’s ride tested us in ways we hadn’t expected. The roads were the main culprits—constantly flipping between smooth tarmac and absolute cratered nightmares. Just when you’d think you could relax, a hundred meters of sheer bliss would give way to bone-rattling potholes. It was like riding a rollercoaster, but on two wheels and with considerably more dust. At one point, a bus came so close to me I could have counted the rivets on its side. It missed me by maybe 15 centimeters.
Dalma had her own version of this horror show: a bus overtook her, cutting in so sharply she didn’t have time to react. It wasn’t fear she described later, but sheer mental exhaustion. The chaos of the roadwork on the NH66, constant diversions into small towns or service roads, the ceaseless stream of vehicles, pedestrians, and random animals, overwhelmed her senses. She wasn’t watching her back anymore, which for her, felt unnerving.
We’ve been on worse roads, but the unrelenting combination of bad surfaces and sensory overload wore us down. The heat didn’t help, either. By the time we stopped for the night, we both needed a proper gin and tonic. And then we discovered that we’d booked ourselves into a dry resort. Because of course.
This morning, after some much-needed rest, we reevaluated our plans. Highway 66, which had initially seemed like the most direct route south, is still very much a work-in-progress—half-built, half-demolished, and wholly unappealing. We had two choices: grit our teeth and push through the chaos or divert inland to the Western Ghats, a region of winding mountain roads, lush greenery, and mercifully cooler temperatures.
The Ghats won, though not without some deliberation. Dalma, who finds twisty roads a challenge (especially downhill), was understandably apprehensive. But the promise of more scenic rides and fewer bulldozers swayed us. So, we mapped out a plan: ride through the Ghats to India’s southernmost tip, then head to Alleppey and finally Kochi. From there, we’d catch an overnight train to Mumbai, spend a few days exploring the city, and fly north to Delhi to meet with friends.
Booking the train was its own saga. The official Indian Railways site had us waitlisted, numbers five and six—cutting it far too close for comfort. If we couldn’t get on that train at the last minute, it would be a disaster because we have to return the bikes in Mumbai and catch our flights home on the 28th. But a quick pivot to the booking app RedBus secured us confirmed tickets. Crisis averted, and a whole new adventure preserved.
For now, we’re in a small coastal resort—our refuge for two nights. Or at least that was the plan until we realized we’d accidentally booked the 8-10 instead of the 6-7. The staff were kind enough to squeeze us in, but there’s a catch: tonight, there’s an Indian wedding happening right outside our door. Indian weddings, as anyone who’s experienced them will tell you, are not quiet affairs. They are dazzling, raucous, and seemingly endless. If we manage to get any sleep tonight, it’ll be a small miracle. On the bright side, neither of us has witnessed an Indian wedding up close, so it might turn into an unexpected highlight.
The wedding isn’t the only twist in our stay. After double-checking tomorrow’s route, we realized the riding days ahead are significantly longer than what we’ve done so far—nearly double. The difference is that these will be cooler, mountain rides, a relief after the oppressive coastal heat. When the British were here, they established hill stations in the Ghats to escape the summer sun. If it worked for them, it’ll work for us.
So here we are, gearing up for a ride that promises to be as rewarding as it is demanding. We’re heading into the hills, towards cooler air and the promise of better roads. The Ghats are known for their beauty, and the thought of seeing India from its southern tip is already fueling our excitement.
As for tonight, we’ll see if the wedding serenades us to sleep or keeps us wide-eyed until dawn. Either way, it’ll make for a story—one more to add to the growing collection of this wild, unpredictable adventure.
