Weekend Trip to Doladanga

 The moon had risen high in the sky and through the recess of the Sonajhuri trees, extending much further its reflections shimmered and rippled over the slow-moving Kangsabati river. We were munching on hard, bony chicken pakodas, seated around a bonfire, when the wind that came far off the from river chilled us to the bone. A lantern hung from the bamboo gazebo, flickered wildly and somewhere far away, but visible through the forests, one could see a row of yellow lights of the huts. 

We were at Doladanga, Purulia. Basking in the moonlight. Our faces glowing in the lights of the bonfire. 

A relaxed (late) start from Kolkata and a leisurely breakfast at Azad Hind Dhaba ensured that we were quite delayed. We were travelling in an Innova and the back seats were occupied by my friend and me, the kids were chit-chatting in the middle row and the ladies. 

The route towards Doladanga is through Durgapur. Sometime later we stopped for a tea break. Till then we were dependent upon Google maps for navigation and watched how the roads became narrower with every mile. From four lane highways in the Durgapur Expressway, we were now cruising on single lane carriage ways in the rural heartlands bordering Purulia and Bankura. But the road conditions were excellent - highly commendable development as far as the road situation is concerned. 

The evening had started to descend with barely a few minutes of daylight remaining, but we still hadn't found the way to the Doladanga Backpackers Camp. 

And then the road vanished and we hit a huge mass of Palash trees. Going further we found a few huts here and there existed, but no one could tell us the way. 

Communicating with the villagers was a problem because even though the villagers were speaking in Bengali, the dialect was so different that we had to enquire a few times before understanding what they meant. 

But whatever it was, the sinking sun, empty roads and forests did create an exciting last mile journey. And it was around 5 that we finally managed to reach. 

The accommodation was in mud huts - basic would be an understatement. And as darkness fell, we asked the caretaker to lit a bonfire. A few chairs were arranged and then the stories continued late in the night - an experience not to be missed. We had a dinner of Roti and Chicken and by the time we went off to sleep it was late in the night - the kids having slept off much earlier. 

The next morning was nice and bright. And we went on a walk to the river side. Mustard fields had bloomed yellow, bees and butterflies had huddled across the flowers, ducks were swimming in the slow moving river. 

Our short excursion was cut short by the call for breakfast. Under the bamboo gazebo, where we saw a kerosene lantern lit the previous night, we munched onto a breakfast spread of Deep fried brinjals, Puris, Aloo Subzi and loads of tea. 

And then it was a long journey home.