Wayanad beckoned, and we obliged. As is the case, the planning was little awful : assumed too many things for our own comfort. After the last minute gasps, we managed to zero in on a start up travel agent in Meenangadi. It was supposed to be a fully furnished house, with facility for cooking. As far as the travel modes from chennai to wayanad and back were concerned : we explored buses, trains and even flights. We were so hung up on going to God's own country. I followed up with two bogus travel agencies - who were probably not too keen on making good business and the guys whom I implored for tickets werent stake holders. As expected, they came up trumps with empty hands. With no travel options to Calicut, we tried for Coimbatore and hoped to get a cab from there all the way upto Wayanad. Meanwhile, my more resourceful comrades digged in and unearthed the valuable redbus.in - a common portal for booking bus tickets. We were due to travel on the 30th of april, and we were hunting for return tickets even on 29th. Plain awesome. With no onward journey confirmed, the return journey was booked duly and as God would have it, we were waitlisted. But my friend forewarned that the tickets would be confirmed by the time we were done breathing in the fresh coffee aroma in the plantations in Wayanad.
Man, and what a bus it turned out to be. The call themselves some doraiswamy travels and charged a hefty 640 for a non-AC semi-sleeper or something. A classic example of people being taken for a "bus ride". Chennai humidity added to the woes, with sweat dripping, people clamouring, the travel agent desk buzzing with enquiries in chaste and unchaste : it was just plain chaos at Koyembedu. Then the secret agent ( we never really knew who worked for that travel agency, coz we found all and sundry milling around issuing directions ) from the travel agency escorted us to a relatively short walk and asked us to board a bus which didnt belong to them. I was wet in my pants - from the sweat :-), and still followed the agent like a faithful dog. Inside the new bus, the seats assigned to us were already taken, by not so friendly looking guy who roared that he isnt vacating his spot unless the dictum came from the President of India himself. With tail nicely tucked between our legs, we alighted and spoke with the secret agent. He then said to walk a little more to loosen our limbs and somewhere on the boundary of koyembedu bus stand, we will find our life saver - the mysterious white bus emblazoned with the letters "Doraiswamy Travels". Oh boy, what a relief it was when we found our treasured bus standing proudly in a pool of "keechad". We got in with bated breath ( you see, it wasnt pleasant smelling what we presumed were acts of people answering nature's call ), and to our horror found ourselves in a dim-lit and dank atmosphere. The seats's heads were nicely plucked out, exposing the soft sponge interiors...aahh...what a sight. We resigned to our pitiful trip to coimbatore and dug into our curd rice and parottas. Something to chew on, and we set on course to Coimbatore.....more to follow.
