As the bus rolls up a gentle incline, I stretch and shift in my seat, give up my frail attempt at sleep. It is 4 am. All night we have been traveling through small towns, the road a luminous rush outside the window, all sounds blocked by the antiseptic hum of the Volvo. In 30 minutes, we will reach Virajpet and I will find myself stranded at a deserted bus station, but I do not know this yet.
I pull the curtain aside to trees outlined against the dark like giant ghosts. The iPod beats a tune. I feel clear, unfogged. This is unusual — I am not a morning person. Forests at night can be suffocating in their density, a jumble of shadows. But the plantations of Coorg are different. Orderly in their beauty. Immensely cheerful. I catch some of this, even at this hour, like this.
A little later, I stand shivering at Virajpet bus station, cursing the cab driver who has not turned up. It is the darkest hour of night and the town looks scary as sleeping towns tend to. Nearby, a parked auto rickshaw with three men inside talking in low murmurs. A truck glows lurid yellow under a street lamp. 
There may be people inside but I’m not sure. I try to look as inconspicuous as possible, given the fact that my jacket is fire-engine red. I distract myself by thinking of how I will relate this little adventure once I’m home and safe.
When my cabbie arrives — Raja who has a bad cold and no handkerchief — I am relieved, as if I have met someone I love after many years. I collapse into the seat and forgive him. Because he has clearly dressed in a hurry. Because I am tired and need to pee. And because I love Coorg and am full of the joy of that.
The road from Virajpet to Kakkabe, higher up at the foothills of the Thadiyendamol peak, takes 45 minutes at this time. The road is smooth and Raja is friendly without being familiar. He asks me where I am from. Bangalore, I say. ‘No, native place?’ I hesitate. ‘Calcutta?’ I offer. ‘He seems satisfied, as if I have confirmed something. He has lived his whole life in Virajpet. I try to imagine the boundaries of his life.
We reach the home-stay an hour later and I tumble into my bed for a nap after watching dawn break over the hills. I wake up after two hours and step out of my room to this.
***
Blog posts on the trip may seem a bit disjointed. This is because I was in Coorg and Kabini to do some resort reviews and can’t say much without impinging on my stories.
Where will your “official” reviews appear? Would love to visit those places. We recently went to the Wayanad area, which is not too far off.
Rahul: ‘Official’ reviews are for an Outlook Traveler guide book.
Will post details when it’s out.
Oh, Waynad is beautiful! We drove through the hills — Vythri? to Kannur as part of this trip. Would love to go back and stay. Any recommendations?
We stayed at this homestay, a charming place on a plantation. They pick you up from the nearest stations (Calicut or Mysore) and show you around. Good home-made food (I’m not sure it’s “organic” as they claim, but much of it is grown on their plantation). Well recommended. Oddly enough, the coffee is quite bad (all over the region): though they grow the stuff apparently they don’t know how to roast or brew it.
Last we heard was Kodagu tourism was reeling under recession worries. Interesting to know how small time resorts/homestays still want to market themselves when the chips are down.
@Rahul: Never drink coffee while in Kerala. They’re a ‘chaya’ state.
Rahul: Thanks for the link. Hmm, I’m not much of a coffee drinker….it gives me a headache but that is odd.
Kodagu Community: I didn’t know that about Kerala…thanks.
very eliotesque sky, the kind he describes in the Hollow Men,esp. the second pic.
Hi Anindita i was searching for information about Coorg on the net and came across your blog. Your description of Virajapte and Coorg is very nice. I felt it was just like my first visit to Coorg for my research work four years back. I have been frequently visiting Coorg since then and every visit feels like an adventure.
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