Modes of transport - by road!

It all started as a simple, one-of-the-many travels to Nasik that I undertake atleast once a month on business. But the difference this time, I would be travelling alone on my return, atleast that was my first time. Little did i realize, that this would be, by far, my most memorable return journey.

I had a flight booked from Mumbai (abt 180 kms from Nasik) around 1.30 p.m. to get back to Bangalore (it was still called Bangalore back then!). As is the usual practice, I booked myself a seat on one of the KK Travels cabs, a shared cab service to Mumbai airport, leaving Nasik at 6.30 a.m.

I checked out of my hotel around 6.20 a.m. and was waiting for the cab, expecting him to be reaching in the next 10 minutes for an on-time pickup. The 10 minute became half an hour, and I realized the cab hadn't turned up yet. Frantic calls to the travels office didn't help as the office does not work 24 hours.

Deciding that waiting longer was not an option, I took an auto-rickshaw to drop me off at a place called Mumbai-Naka. Here, I knew, i can a catch a bus to Mumbai. The next bus, though, was scheduled for 7.20 a.m. Having no other choice, I waited and the bus turned up on-time.

I settled down in the bus quite comfortably and decided to get rid of my boredom by continuing the novel I started a couple of days earlier. Another one of those thrillers from the all-time best, Fredrick Forsyth. The plot was thickening and i was getting more excited running through the pages, only to be distracted by a phone call. The call, as i realized, was from the same KK Travels contacting me 1 hour late! The anxious looks of my fellow passengers made me realize i was loudly fuming at the other person on the line. I despised the cab service for having let me down and putting me through all this trouble! (The 'trouble' had only begun!).

Settling back again, I lost myself into the plot. I must have been around 30 pages through (while reading Fredrick Forsyth, time is counted by the number of pages read), I realized the bus had stopped dead on the road. It must have been stationary for a while, as the bus driver had killed the engine! Expecting it to be one of those small incidents that are commonplace on this highway, I let Fredrick Forsyth take me further into his plot. About 10 pages later, when Forsyth was taking a break from the real plot, I looked around and realized that we were still at the exact same spot. I look around and found that a few people had alighted from the bus. Whats more irritating, having to stop reading a Fredryck Forsyth or missing the flight, quite a dilemma.

I joined the people waiting outside the bus and found that we were in the middle of a traffic pile-up that was atleast about 20 kms long (or that's what the guys traveling in the opposite direction made us believe). Realizing that waiting there is not going to take me anywhere closer to Mumbai than i was for the next 2 hours, I asked around for suggestions. The bus driver, being the guy who knows the route best, was telling me about a place called 'Kasara' about 4-5 kms down the road. Kasara presented more options than the place i was at, as it had a Railway station with direct metro trains into Mumbai every one hour. If only i could get to Kasara on-time, but how!?!

Not sure how to proceed, I decided to pick my luggage and try my luck with one of the smaller vehicles which can weave through the gaps in the traffic jam. Fortunately, I found a motorcycle rider (the bike was the same model as my new possession, Bajaj Pulsar - 150cc DTSi, ES) who agreed to drop me at Kasara. There I was, having booked myself on a comfortable cab no longer that 2 hrs back, now traveling on a Bajaj Pulsar clutching on to my luggage (my laptop bag and a suitcase) wondering if it was worth all the effort. The thought of good food and good sleep back home kept me going.

While on the way, I had to learn from the biker that he was on his way to attend an interview. He had a girl-friend who he believes was from 'Bangalore' as she only knew Bengali (other than English). So much for Bangalore's Bengali connection and its reputation.

I finally got dropped off at the small village of Kasara. The railway station, i was told, was about 3 kms away and I had to strike a hard bargain with a not-so-easily-relenting auto rickshaw driver for a ride to the railway station. Once at the railway station, i got myself a ticket to Mumbai and just about managed to board a moving train. The next train was atleast an hour away and sure would have missed my flight if i had missed the train. The train was moving and thank God there are no traffic jams on tracks!
I was still a good 100 kms from the airport!!

Did i make it to Mumbai on-time to catch my flight?? What other modes did i have to take-up???
Watch this space for more...