This picture was taken near a place called Kumrokhali which is less than 10 km from Canning
Last week my cycling friend Rana proposed a tour of Canning. It's a small town at the bottom of the state and gateway to the Sunderbans - the world's largest mangrove forest. We wanted to go for a pure adventure trip on Saturday. We calculated the total distance would be some 100 km and it should be do-able. Well we did it successfully. A circular trip of Canning from Calcutta.
The Garmin map shows better details of various place names for better understanding
Of course, this being the month of Bhadra in Bengali, the sun was really strong. From around 11 am, when we were already on our way back it started getting really hot and from 12 noon with another 30 kms or so to go, the last 2/3 hours were very painful. If I am not mistaken the temperature around noon was 41 degrees centigrade. And the road didn't have any large trees to give us any shade.
But with the journey behind us it feels very pleasant and worth the effort. Rural Bengal is all emerald now. The paddy fields are all green, the ponds are full and dark. It's beautiful. You can see monsoon is going away and autumn is about to come. It's that transition period now. The golden tinge in the cloud is yet to take effect and the kaash flower is yet to bloom. But this late monsoon greenery is something totally fresh and different.
I woke up at 3.30 am on the appointed day. I have never felt so alive in a long long time and that too so early in the morning. I was very excited. Rana was supposed to call me but after waiting for a few minutes I called Rana, who seemed to be still sleeping :-). Got ready with a cup of tea and Monisha made me some boiled eggs and a couple of cheese sandwiches and packed in a few sausages (this last box was never opened. If the climate was cooler I would probably have opened it). I had some dates in my pocket. I also carried my usual stuff like two tubes, pump, tyre changing kit, a rainwear and even a travel towel and a rag for the cycle not to speak of the toilet paper. Apart from the two 1 litre water bottles, I tied an extra 2 litre bottle filled with water on the rear carrier, wrapped in a Salsa net. I filled one bottle with Electral and carried another pack in the Ortlieb bag to be used after 50 kms to make another 1 litre mix for the return journey.
I sweat a lot and keeping electrolytic balance at this age is very critical.
I started off precisely at 4.22 am from my house, headed towards Narendrapur via Tollygunge. It was all dark. I had all my lights on. One main headlight, a small white blinking light on the front and a main backlight in blinking mode. From Tollygunge Metro station the road became quite potholed. This continued till Narendrapur. In fact the road is so bad that at one point the rear bottle fell off the carrier. I picked it up from a puddle. Packed it again and off I went.
I arrived a couple of minutes ahead of Rana at the Narendrapur Ramkrishna Mission gate. It was 5:04 to be precise. We agreed that the main road seemed to be really full of traffic and we should take the new road along the dead canal. So off we went. At Baruipur we came on the main road and passed through Baruipur bazaar which was chock a block full even that early in the morning. It was so jam packed near the level crossing, despite the train service being suspended now that we had to get off the bike. No one seemed to be aware that there is a legal requirement now to wear a mask and keep social distancing. I wonder if they know that there is a pandemic raging through the world in general and India in particular. No one could care less.
After crossing Puratan Bazaar in Baruipur (the right turn goes to Joynagar) we stopped at a street side tea stall and had a small cup of sugared tea. Rana gave me some dates, which were of very high quality I must say. We kept pushing pedal. The town area of Baruipur continues for quite a few kilometers, at least on the two sides of the highway. After this rural Bengal comes out in its splendour in places when you can see verdant green paddyfields stretching right upto the horizon. In places you can see water bodies in the paddyfields that adds beauty and a break to the monotony of green.
We crossed a few small hamlets with their morning bazaars and soon came to the town of Canning. It took us 3 and a half hours to be precise. After crossing the station area we cycled right up to the new bridge over Matla and found the distance was exactly 50 kms from my house. The new bridge is just a kilometer outside the town.
They have beautified the area before the bridge with a nice new road and some decorative benches where we sat. But as is usual anywhere in such a place in India, just behind the pretty benches are heaps of trash thrown by people and not removed by the civic authorities. Rana's wife had made some delicious chhatu parota. I had one of them, which was quite filling. We had one boiled egg each also. Across the road there was a tea stall where we had tea. Again very sugary.
I gave this detailed description of our food so that a potential cycle tourist realises the importance of not eating too much while on the road. However, replenishing the lost calories is important. So small but frequent meals is the way to go.
Rana had a long discussion with the tea stall owner about the route to take back. He was determined not to take the Baruipur route but explore the interiors of the district away from the highway. After much discussion about the route we started off again. I am glad that we took this route, otherwise the true splendour of Bengal wouldn't have unfolded in front of us.
The route we took does not have any well known small towns that an average Calcuttan would know. So I will jot down the names of the apparently important places we crossed on the road. If you want to take this route ask people in Canning to show you the way to Chandkhali first, next place to ask for is Nagartala followed by Milanbazar and Chandaneswar. Somewhere along the way, towards the beginning came a place called Taldih. This seemed like an important local place. From Chandaneswar or thereabouts you hit a broad road that goes straight to Sonarpur to the left (via Kalikapur) or Ghatakpukur to the right. We made a mistake here and took a right turn through a really deep village and followed a stretch of no road to go to Tardaha. This, I later realised was a mistake, in the sense it meant a bit of a detour. We should have stuck to the Sonarpur route. That would've been much shorter. Anyway, since Rana had earlier come up to Tardaha (locally called Tarda) we went in that direction. It's a wide proper road devoid of any traffic. The road from Tarda goes straight to Ruby via Urbana. This is where urban civilisation begins in Calcutta.
It is really strange that places in these areas like Tardaha or Kheyada are so close to Calcutta in terms of distance yet are so very rural and devoid of civic amenities.
Most of the way from Canning to Ruby we hardly came across any major auto routes. A few electric Totos crossed us but that was about it. The locals were all very excited to see such outlandish looking men on fancy bikes going through their villages. Most were asking where we were going or where we were coming from. They were also commenting among themselves about our bikes and how fancy them looked. The locals find it difficult to imagine that some people can do this for fun. That is, cycle all the way from Calcutta to Canning in this hot weather just for fun.
In fact the tea seller in Canning told us very seriously - why did you elderly people (bayaska manush) come all the way from Calcutta on bicycles? You should have come on a motorcycle. The operative word here was 'elderly people". I think looking elderly is an advantage when you are travelling alone. I am really looking forward to my retirement.
Near Milanbazaar or perhaps Taldih another funny incident happened.
I was following Rana about 50 meters behind. A Toto crossed us. One gentleman got down from the Toto and charged verbally at Rana - what sort of a person are you, man? You have dumped all the load on the old man and riding ahead of him? You should be following him from behind lest anything should happen to him. Rana got down from the bike and waited for me looking completely incredulous. We had a hearty laugh and pushed ahead.
In one of the dark inner roads - dark because of the dense foliage of the fruit trees all around the village - we wanted to have the other egg and some water etc. We chose a heap of chopped wood lying by the side of the road where a boy was sitting. He said very nicely that instead of sitting there, where there was some foul smell coming from a decomposing dead animal (though I didn't get it), we could sit under the shed of their club room on a bench. We did that. This club was milling with young boys, all playing cards. They all observed us quietly but no one spoke to us with any of the typical rustic questions.
I wonder what all these young boys do for a living or how much they study. Entirely agrarian economy? All of them seemed to have a two wheeler. Most of the Group D staff in our office like security guards or tea delivery boys and sweepers etc come from such villages. It's just their lack of urban polish that makes them unemployable for a more white collared job in a corporate set up in the city. Otherwise none of them is dumb. This is a major drawback of our rural education system in particular and the society in general. It not only does not mould the attitude of these boys and girls, it does not give them any polish. Unless one is exceptionally brilliant it is very difficult to break this cultural rural urban divide.
Most of the street side shops had on front window display bottles of petrol for the local bikers. I can't remember seeing a single petrol pump on this route till Ruby. Of course except some motorcycles we didn't see any other vehicle that would need petrol here. Probably there was one between Baruipur and Canning. The villages looked extremely impoverished, to say the least but the markets were mostly thriving with people and activity.
The sun meanwhile was really high up and it was burning down everything, making the going tough for me. There was a dead canal on the side of the road. Dead with water hyacinth. Labourers were busy clearing it in places. I later learnt it was some 41 degrees centigrade. My speed slowed down. Rana had stopped for tea at a couple of places. He was riding ahead of me, being much faster. I had already taken off my helmet and was following him slowly behind. I would have thrown away the gloves as well but for the fact that my palms sweat so much that my grip on the brake slips. My round neck T-shirt had no provision to pull the front zipper down. The deep ponds with their water were looking very inviting for a dip. I begged mentally for a sharp shower to cool things down but God was very unkind. He decided to test my mettle.
At the last tea stop we were told that Urbana is just 7 kms from there. Urbana is a new very large super luxury residential complex near Ruby. Rana stays just ahead of Ruby. I asked Rana to move ahead and promised that I would pull along slowly but surely and reach alone (my house is a further 10 km or so from his place). Rana was obviously stronger than me and wasn't as badly affected as I was.
Mentally I told myself 7 kms is like a trip from home to office and back, which is not much. So I started seeing those short immediate destinations. Mentally I crossed Rashbehari, then Hazra, then Bhowanipore as if I was going to office from home. The meter was moving frustratingly slow. But I kept at it. Stroke after agonisingly slow stroke of the pedal.
There weren't too many tall trees to give any shade anywhere. The hot sun was reflecting from the black road. I was thinking what would happen if there was a puncture now. Luckily no such thing happened (thanks to my Schwalbe Marathon Plus and God) and after some time I could see the tall towers of Urbana. That seemed like a light house to a sailor in a typhoon. A very welcome sight in distress.
I reached Urbana and from there it was a matter of following the road home via Ruby, Gol Park and Southern Avenue. Rana spotted me crossing his house and shouted a greeting. I touched 100 km exactly on the top of Ballygunge bridge. This is my second century ride.
I was a little skeptical whether I'd be able to climb the bridge - I was so tired. But I did. On Southern Avenue I think my speed was something like 6 km per hour. I stopped and finished off the last gulp of the Electral water and reached home at 2 pm.
Suffering seems insufferable when you are going through it. Once over, it leaves a very sweet memory. It has happened to me in the past. This is what happened to me with this trip also. I thank Rana for selecting this route. Without him I wouldn't have perhaps taken this route and large parts of Bengal very close to my home would've remained unseen to me.
Too tired for a selfie
