Postcard #32: Cyclone vacation

On the eve of our departure for the coastal town of Gokarna, 200 something kilometers from Bangalore (200 some kilometers warranting a 10 hour bus ride) a cyclone blew in from West Bengal. Chennai was getting the brunt of the storm, but Bangalore was being doused despite the dry season. The weather didn’t bode well for our seaside weekend break.

The night bus disorients time and space; it’s the most dreadful form of teleportation. For one hour, you wait in a cold drizzle on a busy street in front of a government complex called the Silk Board. You’re herded on the bus by a nervous teen with a croaking voice. You’re shuttled for 10 hours, supine. You spend 10 hours rolling around on a rubber mattress surrounded by other people in their compartments. It’s a rollicking form of sensory deprivation. Then, suddenly, you emerge blinking in the sunlight of a new town.

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