I went to Gokarna , a place amazingly untouched by people and pan parag wrappers. I was even beginning to think that travel writing as a possible career option is unethical because it will involve humanizing the few beautiful places left in our country. At times it seemed more like the south of France than Northern Karnataka.Almost like an island, Gokarna is a colorful place with the delicious rust on porous rocks, red soil on the hills, yellow sand lots and lots of bright fresh green and psychedelic colours of moss. The enormity of the ocean that I sometimes can't stare at eye to eye was overwhelming.
The food adapted for the dozens of foreigners who throng there(hash brown potatoes, chocolate pancakes, awesome fluffy omelets) and waking up to the ocean all added up to a splendid trip.
The mood of the place is laidback, the fishermen selling lobsters are not neck wrenchingly pushy, other guests are hippie like colorful foreigners faithful to lonely planet . Well, of course there were the weekend roadside Romeos from neighboring towns making passes , screaming, staring at swim suited female bodies (with souls attached) like they were museum display objects.
The locals are almost ‘pahadi’ in appearance and they wear their saris in a comfortable way tied around the neck , perfectly adapted to life by the sea.
The men are usually fishermen.
The town itself is a quaint little place dotted with temples and old houses some of which have been replaced with garishly painted concrete ones. The walls are filled with green making the walks here very beautiful, The houses are caste segregated , the Brahmin houses being nearest to the Shiva temple.(A Christmas star hung from one of these and below was a holy thread wearing Brahmin reading Hindu verses). I am just noting down observations l hope I don’t sound like those NRI’s fascinated by ‘third world’ charm.
On the streets little boys splash cow pee on their faces(fresh from the cow , I mean.)
I’ve touched cow urine and cow dung and made compost eighty thousand times. Not like I am those Louis Vuitton carrying girls disgusted by the smell of rain water or sumtin…

Gokarn , by the way means cow’s ears.
The town like all temple towns in India is lined with small shops selling bronze idols , lamps , knick knacks and blasting bhajans ..

If you are planning to go please please please don’t litter….thanks .Not the best travelogue on earth but well….