Road Trip to Nagarhole: The Comfort of Friends in Tough Times
A couple of weeks back, I wrote a story about going solo traveling. It’s an experience that’s truly insightful, offering a unique opportunity to get to know yourself better. But as enlightening as it is, solo travel comes with its own set of risks. I experienced this firsthand when I fell ill on one of my solo trips, which turned out to be quite challenging. You can find the full story here.
This time, however, I want to share a different kind of story—one that highlights how everything changes when you’re traveling with friends, especially when you fall sick. We all value our independence, but there’s no denying the importance of having good friends in our lives.
In 2009-10, I embarked on a road trip with my usual group of friends, heading to Nagarhole. It was one of those spontaneous night drives we often enjoyed. We left around 9 PM in a small Santro car, filled with the excitement of the journey ahead. However, something was off—I had been feeling unusually cold and had a slight fever, but I brushed it off, not wanting to spoil the trip for everyone.
As we drove through the chilly night, I began to feel worse. My body was shivering despite wearing a jacket, and a deep sense of unease started to creep in. Determined not to be a killjoy, I pushed through, hoping the feeling would pass. We decided to take a break at a Café Coffee Day, a familiar sight on Karnataka’s highways. I ordered a warm tomato soup, thinking it might help settle my stomach. The soup did provide some comfort, but as soon as we returned to the car, I felt a wave of nausea. I barely made it out of the car before vomiting in the parking lot. Oddly enough, I felt much better afterward—no more chills, no more body aches. The temporary relief convinced me that I could carry on.
We continued our journey, driving deeper into the night, and my fever and body ache returned. However, without the aid of smartphones or Google Maps, we found ourselves lost in the dark, with no signboards to guide us. It was a time before technology made travel so much easier, and being lost on a deserted road in the middle of nowhere felt unsettling. As the hours dragged on, we realized that stopping to sleep in the car wasn’t a good idea—despite our initial hopes, the inside of the car was freezing. We decided to press on until we found a place to stay.
Eventually, we stumbled upon a small, unlit hotel. It wasn’t exactly welcoming, and the room we were offered for just 300 rupees per night was suspiciously cheap. When we entered the room, it was clear why—the place hadn’t been cleaned in ages. Dust covered every surface, and it was obvious the room hadn’t been occupied for a long time. But by then, I was too exhausted and unwell to care. I just wanted to lie down. I pulled the sheets over me as carefully as possible, trying to avoid stirring up more dust, and finally fell asleep.
The next morning, I was still feeling weak and feverish. My friend, sensing my discomfort, went out to find breakfast. He returned with idlis and sugar, a simple meal my mom used to make for me when I was sick. The gesture meant the world to me. It was just what I needed to regain some strength. After breakfast, we made the difficult decision to abandon our trip and head back to Bangalore.
That day, I was reminded of the importance of having friends who care. Solo travel may offer a chance to discover yourself, but it’s during the tough times that the presence of good friends truly matters. They’re the ones who support you when you’re down and ensure you’re never alone.