Prior to every weekend is this bout of hectic activity - searching and finding another place to visit over the two days. Though weekend trips are a regular affair in my life now, laziness does not permit to research and keep an inventory of such places handy. It all has to start around Wednesday, when even the calendar finally says WTF. And invariably there will be some catalyst for this increased activity, like a call from a friend who has nothing better to do than suffering my company. It wasn't any different with this trip to the Gothic church at Shettihalli. Sunil cancelled his weekend trip home and called in to say that he is available to go 'anywhere'. About Sunil, he is never worried about the place, as long we are traveling and not rusting our asses in the city. He is a rare breed who rates the journey a few notches above the destination.
It was a few months back that I accidentally came across a picture of this Gothic beauty on Flicker, and this trip had indeed been finalized that very moment. There was something attractive about the picture of a dilapidated church, half submerged in a water body. I could not find much information about the place in my subsequent research, but whatever little I got was fascinating enough to look forward to the trip. I wanted to time the trip properly to see the church in all its splendor, as 70% of it goes under water after the rains. After seeing the picture Sunil also agreed to go find this place, and we started as usual on that Saturday morning. We did not have a clear idea of the route, except that we have to take a detour near Hassan from the Bangalore-Hassan road to reach the village of Shettihalli. And then somewhere close to Channarayapattana we saw a signboard saying 'Shettihalli 3 kilometers', with an arrow mark pointing left.
We knew it is too early to take the deviation, but decided to go along the side road and see what lies ahead. After driving a kilometer or so through beautiful coconut groves, we saw a huge expanse of water at a distance. We could see water lilies floating in one corner while herons and egrets were flying all along the shore; it sure looked interesting. We thought this should be the place and we would have gotten the instructions all wrong from the internet. We drove for another kilometer, entered a small village and the road hit a dead end. There we met Devarajan. He must be the village drunkard. It was hardly afternoon and yet he was already filled up to his throat with some kind of country liquor (going by the smell) He came towards us in an MJ-Moonwalk style and introduced himself. We asked him about the church and when the fourth time he said "My name is Devarajan, Glad to meet you", we decided to go look for it elsewhere :)
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