Features: Magazine | Literary Review | Life | Metro Plus | Open Page | Education Plus | Book Review | Business | SciTech | Friday Review | Young World | Property Plus | Quest | Folio |

The veiled monsoon magic

Malnad is synonymous with the monsoon and what better place to experience it than at the celebrated Jog Falls?

PHOTO: ANAND SANKAR

HIDE AND SEEKA thick blanket of mist often blocks the view and one has to wait patiently to see the Jog Falls

Snuggled in a thick windcheater to beat the morning chill on the very last seat of a State transport bus, I am suddenly thrown three feet into the air as we hit a massive pothole. This is the driver's good morning and I wake up trying to feel all the discs in my spinal column. On cue, the conductor announces: "Jog Falls, Jog Falls."

I have finally made it to the famed waterfalls and in the right season — the monsoon. For anybody who has lived or visited Karnataka, the first place one is told to visit is Jog. And in the good old days when there was no cable TV, the monsoon was officially in full swing in the State only when Doordarshan showed clips of water cascading down Jog Falls.

It's about 6.30 a.m. and I step out of the bus to find the landscape covered in thick mist and drenched in a steady drizzle. Having never seen Jog before, I am desperate to see it or at least hear it. But my companion smiles and advises patience. First things first. Get a room at the nearby government guesthouse before anything else. We trudge up to the office and are immediately told by a sleepy clerk that all the rooms are booked. We ask him for other options and he literally tells us to take a hike — 32 kilometres to the nearest big town, Sagar. On further prodding he asks us to try the Electricity Board bungalow, on the hill behind the guesthouse. Carrying our heavy bags, we plod up to the bungalow only told by the watchman: "Ella dodda sahibru (IAS officers) bandhidhare. Nalakku roomu full agidhe." ("The big bosses have come. All four rooms are full.")

The fall and the falls

Just when I think things can't get worse, I slip and fall on the trail leading down from the bungalow. But no major damage is done: I am just half-covered in slush. My friend helps me get up and then he too slips in the slush. Silently plotting our way back to Bangalore, we head back to the bus stop. Then we notice the only autorickshaw parked in the whole area and the driver approaches us. I notice that he has that smirk of an opportunist written all over him. "Lodge bekaa? There is a lodge at Kargal about 8 km away. Decide quickly. There are only a few rooms and if the next bus comes, you won't get any."

The fee for being a Good Samaritan is Rs. 150, he says. We are whisked away to Kargal and quickly realise that it is a lot closer than 8 km. The lodge is a dingy two-storey building with a board that simply says: "Lodge." Who needs a name when you are the only operator in town? We quickly check into the spartan but clean room, freshen up and come down for breakfast, only to find our auto driver still waiting.

"I have to go back empty. I will take you back to Jog Falls for Rs. 25," he offers. There are only two "restaurants" in Kargal and don't expect more than one to work at any one time because there is no business for two. Neer dose is supposed to be a specialty here, but we are brusquely told there are idlis and Mangalore buns with tea. Breakfast done, we head to the falls, in what else but the autorickshaw.

Highest in Asia

Now I know we all have visions of the Niagara or Victoria when we think of waterfalls. But here, I would say, the waterfall itself is not the attraction, even though falling from a height of 292 metres, it is said to be among the highest in Asia.

We reach the viewing platform only to find the scenery blanketed by mist with only a faint hiss in the background. The hiss is Jog Falls. My friend now tells me to get ready with my camera and wait for the mist to lift. Yes, this is what you do at Jog — wait. The waterfall is like a beautiful woman who lifts her veil only to the patient few.

Suddenly, there is a buzz among the crowd. The mist is moving. It rolls out of the gorge and umpteen tour guides point out Raja, Rani, Roarer and Rocket to their clientele. The Sharavathi, which feeds the falls, breaks into four cascades while slipping off the cliff. We furiously click pictures and another bank of mist rolls in. This game of hide-and-seek goes on throughout the day. If you look at the cliffs surrounding the viewing area, you will see a multitude of small cascades that have sprouted due to the copious rains.

We decide to take the steps to the bottom of the gorge. But a tenth of the way down, the rain makes a comeback, forcing us to share a tarpaulin with an elderly southekai (cucumber) vendor. And to compensate his generosity, we tuck in a couple of southekais with chilli powder.

Beaten by the rain, we climb back only to run into the auto driver again. This time he offers to take us right up to the individual Jog cascades for Rs. 50. With nothing else to do, we go along. At each of the cascades you can go right up to the lip of the slippery cliff and peer down giddily into the depths of the gorge. Here is where one realises that the amount of water that Jog drains is pretty small. On the way back we tuck into another Western Ghat specialty, fresh slices of pineapple, served again with chilli powder.

We have lunch at the one of the small makeshift restaurants near the viewing area. And true to the spirit of Jog, water is the most abundant ingredient in the sambar and rasam. Bellies full, we spend the next few hours lazing on the many benches. But as dusk nears, a numbing chill descends and we are soaked to the bone from our adventures with even the clothes in our bags soggy from rain. We decide to head back to Bangalore, and decide to use our auto driver again. And this time he is really worth the money.

There is a deluxe bus every day from the nearby Linganamakki Dam to Bangalore. It runs exclusively for the dam engineers and stops between 6.30 p.m. and 7 p.m. at Kargal. The bus stop is the only bakery in town and we waited with hot badam milk and vegetable puffs keeping us occupied. The bus arrives and I find myself a nice window seat. But after a few minutes I feel the all-too-familiar chill of water drops on my face — the roof of the bus is leaking. Well, you asked for the monsoon.

TRAVEL TIPS

The only months when the Jog Falls are watchable is between July and September. This is because the Sharavathi is entirely monsoon-fed and it has been dam(ned) by the massive Linganamakki Reservoir. In fact, during the lean months water is released from the dam to make the falls a spectacle.

Jog is 379 km from Bangalore and the nearest big town is Sagar, 32 km away. There are direct buses from Bangalore or you can change from Shimoga. The guesthouse at Jog is always full during the season, so you are better off booking it from the KSTDC office at Badami House (opposite the BMP office, N.R. Square). Accommodation at Kargal is very basic. The food available is nothing to write home about. Drink only bottled water.

ANAND SANKAR

Printer friendly page  
Send this article to Friends by E-Mail