Back from the fishing camp, without any fish, but without drowning or getting eaten by a croc

Perhaps a wilderness camp is not the easiest place to take two small kids for their first holiday. Staying in a tent, no electricity for much of the day, no hot water… At least we had a limitless supply of Cauvery water, which is more than you can say of the water supply at home.

This time, we went to Cauvery Fishing Camp at Doddamakkali, not Bheemeshwari, where we’ve been several times before. We got extremely late leaving home, due to various complicated reasons including changing a tyre on the car (the puncture was a couple of weeks earlier)(don’t even ask), playing tennis, eating a nice but ridiculously expensive breakfast of Post’s banana nut crunch… Oh and doing the packing, too.

The distance to Doddamakkali is only 150 km, so we had expected a leisurely 3 hour drive, but after the first 80 km on the Mysore highway, we turned off the highway at Maddur and the road surface deteriorated considerably, so it took us a little over 4 hours, with a half-hour stop to give the kids lunch at Kamat. (Apart from the last 8-km mud road which leads to the camp, this is also the road to Shivanasamudram.) The last stretch of 8 km was pretty interesting, winding through arid forests and sloping hillsides before finally descending steeply through a series of swirchbacks to the campsite by the river.

The location was very scenic, the river broad and lazy, studded with rocks, fringed with greenery. There was a beach of sorts, with soft white sand. Civilization was as far away as could be with the 8-km mud track between us and the nearest settlement deterring all but the most determined visitors – usually those who, like us, had paid up in advance and weren’t going away without getting their money’s worth.

There wasn’t much to do at the camp. After a late lunch and a lazy afternoon snooze – me and the kids tested out the hammock and managed not to fall out – there was a coracle boat ride, followed by fishing classes for those who were interested. I wasn’t, nor were the girls, but we watched the trainer expertly throw out a line that seemed to hover in the air before flying straight out to a point in the middle of the river. A short while later, the line gave a jerk and the man scrambled to his feet and pulled in (no reel) a small fish which, he said, was a mahseer. After being duly photographed by various eager “students” (some of them more interested in grilling and eating the fish than in catching it) the poor fish was gently returned to the water.

We spent the evening sitting around the largely unnecessary campfire (it was quite warm enough without the fire) eating spicy barbecued chicken and drinking beer. The kids entertained themselves by throwing sand on the table and putting some of it in their mouths whenever they thought we weren’t looking.

The next morning I insisted on being taken for what they called a trek, what I called a morning walk, and what Amit called a walk in the park. What this entailed was walking 15 minutes uphill along a narrow path in the grass, with sweat pouring off me at 7.30 in the morning, and sliding back down the same path in 10 minutes flat. Apparently, there was an option to go around the long way and return along the river’s edge, but the guide was extremely reluctant to let me go that way. Probably afraid, speculated Amit. What if some locals saw him alone with a woman in the bushes???

A leisurely breakfast occupied an hour till 10, and then there was only time enough to bathe and dress before leaving at 11. Lunch at Kamat, and we were back home a little after 3.

On the whole it was a not-bad experience. I wouldn’t say the kids enjoyed it entirely – they did get fidgety with the long drive, and weren’t always full of smiles and good cheer the way they are at home. But, apart from being really hungry before their dinner was ready, they weren’t too put out by it either. They fell asleep easily at night, slept soundly, and woke up after 8 the next morning!

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