Time has slunk past Sindhudurg like a thief on silent feet. This Eden in India’s western state of Maharashtra has virtually ducked Father Time’s destructive grasp.
Essentially a swathe of land between the Western Ghats mountain range and the Arabian Sea, Sindhudurg lies north of ebullient Goa but is a planet away in spirit. Sindhudurg is not the stuff of slick tourist brochure razzmatazz but the stuff of dreams… studded with unsullied sandy beaches, muscled forts thrusting out of the sea, narrow country roads flanked by forests and mountain vistas, meandering rivers, and towns fragrant with local gob-smacking cuisine.
In the 17th century, the warrior-like Marathas had carved a vast empire in these parts but in modern times, Sindhudurg slipped into oblivion. The cognoscenti, intent on scoping out destinations mantled in innocent rusticity, have now stumbled on Sindhudurg.
Our journey of discovery commenced at the four-villa resort of Coco Shambhala, an eco-conscious luxe outpost snuggling on a hilltop, 200m away from crescent-shaped Bhogwe beach. The two-bedroom villas on stilts come with an open-sided living space where nature walks in uninvited. Feathered beauties would alight on the edge of our private swimming pool while the occasional para glider would skim across the blue sky above. In keeping with the understated charm of the lush environs, the interiors of this magical haven are enhanced with hand-crafted coconut wood furniture, drift wood artefacts sculpted by nature, and filled with the musical rustle of palms and wild vegetation that surround the villas.
For guests who would like to get under the skin of the destination, Coco Shambhala is the ideal launching pad for interesting excursions – to the small embraceable town of Malvan and onward to the mighty 17th century fortress of Sindhudurg, which pummels one’s vision with its sheer girth. Its 9m high walls, 3m wide ramparts and 42 bastions thrust out of the ocean like a ghostly abandoned galleon from a forgotten maritime battle.
Back at Coco Shambhala, nature enveloped us in a warm embrace as we dined on local and international delicacies watching the interplay of fading light on the blue ocean and frilled surf beyond. Dolphin watching was on the agenda the next morning as we embarked in a country craft towards the confluence of the Karli river and the sea, framed by red and black snarling cliffs. At first, it seemed that the playful sea creatures had taken the day off when suddenly we saw their sleek bodies arching out of the heaving waters.
Come evening, we clambered up to the ruins of the centuries-old Nivti fort, constructed by Shivaji Maharaj, the Maratha warlord with a passion for building magnificent, invincible forts. From its broken ramparts, we gazed down at the sun-warmed cove of Niviti to our left and to our right, the ocean hammering craggy red cliffs in relentless fury. As the sun slid off the sky, a spectacular sunset hijacked our imagination: was that shadow a ghostly wraith from the past come to check us out?
Our spells of full-stop seclusion were punctuated with leisurely excursions to unlock the charms of the region. Next morning, we steamed in a boat to Devgad peninsula, known for its lush Alphonso mango orchards where we met the genial Dada Samant for whom life is sweet as he is a mango grower and merchant and shares his bounty with tourists who stay at his no-frills Aryavarta Beach Resort. The air was filled with the almost cloying fragrance of slowly ripening mangoes that hung plump and still green from trees that climbed all the way up a hill. The fruits seemed to burst with the sunny goodness of this pristine land.
Ultimately, while caramel-coloured sands and forts with inimitable swag are etched in our collective memory, what we remember with great fondness are our heart-warming encounters with the locals and their deep love for their land. On a deserted beach that we stumbled on, fishermen who were taking a break against their ribbed boat after their morning foray into the ocean, shared their brew with us and chatted about their lives.
The taste of the simple breakfast that we had in a local home with a breezy courtyard and a wrap-around verandah channelled sunny Sindhudurg via our palates. We sat on mats placed on the floor, and were graciously served by the women of the family. A 70-year-old grandmother stood by, casting gummy smiles our way. These encounters were as warm as the sun that shone on the sandy coastline of Sindhudurg, making it glisten in welcome.
Sindhudurg is accessible from Sindhudurg airport (also called Chipi airport), Manohar International Airport in Goa and Belagavi airport in Karnataka. It takes about an hour to reach Sindhudurg from the airport in Goa and over two hours from Belagavi. By way of accommodation, Sindhudurg has home stays and guest houses. Coco Shambhala is at the top of the heap — luxurious and sustainable.
There are numerous picturesque little shrines and temples in Sindhudurg that snuggle in off-the-beaten-track hamlets. These are essentially pools of silence where you may find a lone priest propitiating the presiding deity.
Some have fascinating back stories — the Dev Vetoba temple in Parule village is dedicated to the king of ghosts who is believed to patrol the settlement after sunset to protect the residents from dark forces that prowl at night.
To help him in this task, devotees offer a pair of brand-new, over-sized sandals to him each evening. And legend has it that next morning, the sandals look dusty and scuffed because the visiting deity had worn them while patrolling the village.
Plug into the serenity of the grand 14th century Laxmi Narayan temple in Walawal village with its pitched, tiled and tiered roof and vast pillared halls.
At Coco Shambhala, guests may attend a pottery session with a local potter and learn to swirl and fashion clay or participate in a cooking lesson to master the nuances of delectable Malvani cuisine.
Malvani cuisine, typical of Sindhudurg, with its hot and tangy curries (laden with fish or prawns) plays a haunting duet with one’s palate. Savour it in a local home or at Coco Shambhala (like us) where we relished a leisurely Malvani meal. It was replete with rava-fried fish (coated with local spices and semolina); Ambotik curry with prawns and mango; seasonal vegetables of the day wreathed in a home-cooked flavour; varan, a dish of lentils tossed with coconut and turmeric; local bread — all washed down with sol kadhi (a signature, pink-coloured appetiser made of kokum and coconut milk). Modak, a local dessert, was the sweet finale.
