My meeting in Vizag or Vishakhapatnam surprisingly finished before lunch. Since my flight was in the evening, some sightseeing around the city seemed in order.
Imagine lush green hills facing a mirthful sea and long strip beaches. Vizag being spread out where the Eastern Ghats meet the Bay of Bengal fits the scene . I hopped over to Rushikonda Beach and therefrom drove to the old city. The sea roared and frothed all along the way on my left. Sometimes it would disappear and then reappear at a curve in the road. Luckily the weather was crystal clear after a very rainy day. A cool wind blew even at the peak of noon.
After visiting INS Kurushura submarine museum and the Ross Hill Church vantage point I made a final stop at the fishing harbor before turning for the airport. Of course there was lunch in between. Enjoyed a whole grilled fish at Kamat Restaurant, an unpretentious joint for foodies who can tolerate a crowded ambience.
Being close to sundown it wasn’t the peak time at the harbor. Nevertheless the place buzzed with activity. A narrow road packed with small trucks, rickshaws, foot traffic and occasional cars lay over an embankment. Huge wire nets covered one side. There used to be a wall on this side. That wall had disappeared along with a lot of other structures during cyclone Hudhud. The bay water lashed at the base where the stony edge of the embankment lay. The dark saline smell of water mingled with the smell of dry or drying fish. The wind couldn’t remove the smell.
In between piles of flaky fish alleys ran off getting lost into trawlers and boats of various sizes and colors. Here and there trawlers stood on the land. One drew my attention. Propped by wooden logs, decaying ropes dangling, colors fazed, wood flaking -its long voyages now over, it rotted among the carcasses of fish it once used to bring to the land. Everywhere people, a lot of them women, were sorting, stacking, packing and moving dried fish. Most of these will be consumed thousands of mile away from here.
At the end of this road is an iron gate. Pass through that and there is a small jetty. APTDC runs a short duration boat cruise service from there. A ragged shanty served as the ticket booth. I chose not to take the boat ride, instead walked back and sauntered into one of the narrow alleys that protruded like a finger into the water. Soon I was engulfed in a sea of boats and trawlers. Standing close to the border of the ledge everything seemed to be bobbing and swaying imperceptibly; everything in unison, like a single dry leaf cast on the water of a pond. Thousands of debris swum on the water trapped between the land and the boats.
One trawler was unloading its catch. Enormous sword fishes- took 4 people to pick up and load one into the truck. A significant number of the vessels were getting repaired. I forgot to ask whether it was a lean season for going to the sea. At the very end of one of the the alleys I stood and watched the waves and the vast sprawl of the city of Vizag spread over the hill. A boat was preparing to start. God knows where to. Crimson and lilacs were seeping into the blue sky when I turned back.
corticomm 