(Continued from the previous post)
A leisurely lunch later, we fought off the urge to lie down on our beds and snooze for a while. But it was our last day in Honnavar and we couldn’t leave without seeing one of its major attractions – the beautifully complex network of mangroves by the Sharavathi River. The aim was to excurse around the 500-metre boardwalk built around the mangroves – the perfect way to burn off the biryani-induced torpor. Thankfully, by that time, the sun had mellowed down, making it a good time to venture out.
Navigating the magical world of mangroves, a little shakily
I am always filled with wonder at the sight of mangroves – their densely intertwined branches and aerial roots creating a fascinating scene, almost out of a fairy tale where the hapless princess finds herself trapped amidst a jumble of boughs and protruding roots. In real life, the mangroves are an essential coastal ecosystem, the plants supporting myriad marine life while providing protection from predators and powerful water currents.
The Sharavathi boardwalk, open from 9.00 am to 6.30 pm, was located quite close to the Eco Beach. On hindsight, we didn’t have to spend much time travelling in Honnavar to access the places of interest – they were all situated within a comfortable radius around our hotel. Google maps led us to the place easily and there was ample space to park our vehicle. Buying tickets at the counter at INR 10 per person, we entered the boardwalk crossing a wooden bridge.
The boardwalk essentially comprised wooden planks placed horizontally across. It started off easy and wide, allowing both incoming and outgoing visitors to pass conveniently. Several hoardings provided information about the mangroves and the diverse species they sustained. While my attention was caught by shoals of tiny fish frolicking in the shallow waters, later, seeing that my group members had quite disappeared, I picked up pace and came to the end of the boardwalk. Or so I thought.
I realised that the boardwalk actually continued on beyond the point I thought it ended. That part was quite narrow, and it took a circuitous route through a thick patch of mangrove forest, joining the main boardwalk again. The rest of my group were already on it and with no other option but to join them, I stepped onto that additional part of the boardwalk gingerly.
No sooner had I done that I began panicking profusely. “New fear unlocked” – as they say in social media lingo. There were big gaps between the boards at a few places and the thought “I am going to fall through anytime now!” kept running in my mind on a loop. Completely oblivious to the beauty of the mangrove forest around me, with my focus solely on avoiding a plunge into the water, I somehow managed to reach the end of the roundabout route on shaking knees. What a relief that brought me! But yes, that’s just me; the others hopped, skipped and posed away to the finish line.
Well then, on to the next stop!
Pavinakurva Suspension Bridge
We had heard of a beautiful suspension bridge in Honnavar called Pavinakurva Hanging Bridge and since we still had good daylight, we decided to pay the bridge a visit. Google Maps proved to be trustworthy, once again, and we were guided to the place conveniently. The suspension bridge was a functional one, allowing villagers to traverse from Pavinakurva to Honnavar town across the Badagani River.
Typical of suspension bridges where there is no support from the ground, every step that we took on the bridge caused it to sway from side to side. To my utter glee, one of our group members was struck with the same sense of panic that I had faced in the mangrove boardwalk. In contrast, I felt no pang of fear even though it was a swiftly flowing river beneath us, and I couldn’t swim at all. I could hear my neighbour entreating “Let’s go back,” each time the bridge rocked heavily with the passage of any motorbike. All of us have our own Achillies heel, after all. It definitely was a unique experience as we grasped at the cables to keep our balance while trying to walk forward. Thankfully, we were the only tourists that day and there was no crowd jostling around us in that narrow stretch of the bridge.
That done, we decided to call it a day and go back to our hotel for some quality beach time before hitting the sack.
When the Sun rises…
We were supposed to leave early the next morning after breakfast but couldn’t resist one last dalliance with the beautiful beach. Mornings on a beach, just before dawn, is one my favourite sensory experiences. The sea – with its gentle waves lapping at the shore, fishermen leaving for their catch quietly, sea gulls beginning their rounds, and the sky beginning to turn orange behind the coconut and casuarina trees – is a magical place to be at.
Soon, a warm golden glow spread over us as the sun slowly yawned and stretched its rays over the beach, reaching the edge of water. I could travel to any coastal place, just to witness this beautiful awakening of the day, that somehow wipes out memories of the wild revelry of the previous night. Leaving with you some images of the last morning in Honnavar. Hopefully, we would visit again, sooner rather than later. And maybe you should, too. Let me know when you do!
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