Hello Diveagar

Riders are portrayed as being tough, rugged and able to face the elements head on. However, I doubt some of them have felt the brutal burn of the Konkan summer. Paying little heed to the MET department's predictions of sweltering heat and 90% humidity, Jared and I decided to suit up for our coastal break.

Then plan? To head out from Mumbai, southward 200kms to Diveagar. And then make our way back along the coast, stopping at a couple of sites made historic by the Marathas, Siddhis and Moghuls.
The Eagle was accommodating enough to try and fit all the spots I was interested in. So we started off with a pit stop in Navi Mumbai so we could catch a glimpse of the flamingoes that come to spend their summers in Mumbai's mangroves.

We were unable to find the proper viewing spot and instead found ourselves in a marsh where a couple of barges had come to die. Between the piles of rusting iron and men brushing their teeth, we still managed to get a view of those beautiful pink and white birds.
From there we headed on the Mumbai-Banagalore highway -- undoubtedly one of the most dangerous and dusty roads to be on. With massive trucks bullying their way across the stretch, I said my first desperate prayer to my guardian angel.
Three hours later, we were able to put the traffic behind us, making our way through desolate village roads. Summer had taken its toll on the countryside, but it still held a particular kind of wild beauty. The parched earth, the defiant bushes that refused to give up of their piece of land.
The next stop was at a hovel of an eatery for vada paos... the unofficial state breakfast/lunch/tea/dinner dish.
The next leg of the trip was the scariest thanks to the early afternoon heat. Here is where I realised just how much Bangalore had spoiled me for the coast. It was 35 degrees and I was having a heat stroke.
For those unfamiliar with the effects, it makes you dizzy, blackout, throw up and even worse... poop your pants. I think it was this fear of soiling myself that made me resolutely take on the heat (with the help of locally-made kokam sherbet).
Shade breaks, litres of cold water and one power nap later, we finally reached our first destination Diveagar.
I want to gush poetic about the glistening sea, long stretches of pristine beach and that mouth-watering smell of fresh fish. Instead, I'm just going to share some photos.

We stayed at a lovely place called Exotica which offered split-cottage accommodations. The room (plus living room) was spacious, beautifully comfortable and faced the backwaters where we could spot kingfishers and the occasional buffalo that had strayed away from its herd.
A five-minute ride from the town, the resort offered a feeling of seclusion without being completely cut off from the basic necessities... which in our case were vada paos and beer.
Now, anyone who knows me should be aware that I don't mind slumming it from time to time. Instead, as a traveller, it is probably my preferred option. The small dinghy restaurants rather than the five-star set-ups; the locally made fish curry rather than a seafood buffet. So, when Jared recommended we have a beer (or four) at a seedy-looking bar in the town centre, I was game... though rather tentative.
I did not want to offend any village sensibilities by tromping into a hovel in my tee and shorts and sitting sipping beer and smoking.
However, this place we choose turned out to be accommodating enough and offered us complementary 'chakna' to go without Tuborgs.
With a couple more bottles packed to tide us through the night at the resort, we settled into our jammies, plugged in the portable speaker and sat with black-head removal strips.
A great first day to our trip.