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27 days is all it took for the Renault Kwids to conquer every state in the country. Who said the tiny hatchback was just a city car?
We are back on the road after wrapping up leg one of the 29 States in 29 Days Challenge and spending a day of rest and relaxation in Shillong. We made good time, wrapped up 16 states in 12, finished the North East that we expected to be the most difficult part and that called for a celebration (story in August issue of evo India). Now it’s back on the road to continue our record setting challenge in the Renault Kwid, heading to the mainland of the country as we say goodbye to Assam and make our way down to the East coast from Siliguri.
Supreme Leader Aniruddha swapped places with assistant editor Aninda who would show us the wonders of his home state, West Bengal, and what a treat we were in for as the drive to Durgapur from Siliguri turned out to be the hardest and most tiresome experience of the journey thus far. Forget non-existent roads, we had traffic jams that stretched for miles and miles and we were crossing rivers over bridges that looked like the last round of maintenance happened before independence. On one such bridge, sandwiched between two trucks, I couldn’t help but fear for my life as the bridge shook with all the vigour of an earthquake and I thought the truck would fall on our heads. Our nightly abode too was risky business as the best hotel in the town belonged to the shady kind.
“The roads got better, traffic thinned out, our spirits livened up and so did our speeds”
To be fair we were not on the main G-Quad, that I hear is rather good in Bengal, but on the highway leading to Jharkhand, since we had to visit every state of the country. And the moment we crossed into Jharkhand, the infrastructure took a dramatic turn for the better. The roads got better, the traffic thinned out, our spirits livened up and so did our speeds. With Jamshedpur in sight for a hearty lunch we surprised ourselves by reaching the destination an hour earlier than an expected. Except we couldn’t find our film maker Alameen! Turns out as we were entering the steel city our video boss jumped out for a quick shot, crossed the road, and the sweep car didn’t see him and carried on. Alameen’s phone, his wallet, his everything was in the Kwid, except his own self. The story is hilarious – Alameen persuaded a biker to give him a lift and chase us, except he knocked down another biker and got into an argument. He couldn’t remember our phone numbers so on JustDial he got our office landline number and then got our mobile number, then decided it would just be better to wait by the roadside where we’d left him, and that’s where we found him two hours later. Obviously he didn’t see the humour in all of this.
The drive to Rourkela was even more enjoyable with our lost and found videographer safely ensconced in the Kwid. The roads were absolutely beautiful and with our rally drivers behind the wheel, the Kwids even took off on one of the numerous crests on the roads. Yet they never stepped out of line to cause panic. Blitzing down to Bhubaneshwar, via a small detour to check off Chattisgarh, we discovered the virtually empty Biju expressway. Our country is really incredible – we find great driving roads in the unlikeliest of places – and by sun down we were in Vizag where I handed over driving (and more importantly writing duties) to Abhishek.
“Please return to your seats and put your seatbelts on.” Must be bad weather I told myself except my collar was being yanked and I could hear commotion over my headphones. Oh shoot! Our snapper Sachin had blacked out in the aisle. Soon enough his head is in the lap of one of the prettier air hostesses while an auntie empties a packet of sugar in his mouth and the pilot contemplates an emergency landing. The sugar did the trick, turns out he was so stressed about the big drive that his constitution went for a toss; leave him in Pune and he’ll be just fine. Similar is the story with the Kwid. It was always meant to be a city car ferrying first time car buyers from point A to point B but how can it survive 12,500km across the country, in the peak of the monsoons, across all kinds of roads and terrain? That’s what we are here to find out, right?
“Amboli turned out to be a disappointment with broken roads and hooligans on them”
My stint began the next morning in the Kwid Climber and I realised that the port city of Vizag wasn’t bad at all. In fact, the locals tell us that the property rates are among the highest in the country. The roads around the city are tremendous; they’re big and come with zilch potholes. Another aspect I loved about Vizag was its duality; there are mountains on one side and on the other you have the Bay of Bengal. Best of both worlds, eh? And then there’s the Kurusera museum. One of the only two of its kind in the whole world, Kurusera gives you an insight into the lives of sailors who live underwater. The best part is the road to the museum does not allow vehicular traffic before half past seven in the morning allowing joggers to take in the fresh air, instead of huffing and puffing on treadmills.
While we were shooting our Kwid, we sent the other Kwid for a new windscreen courtesy a rock kicked up by the truck in front of us and three hours later it was ready. Must say, Renault service is rather quick and efficient. Of course, that delayed our departure and we reached Guntur by midnight, after taking a detour into Telangana.
Rounding off the days action for the web blogs and social content meant I let Aninda take the wheel the next morning while I made full use of the Kwid’s lovely ride quality to get some shut eye. However, there is a problem if Aninda is at the wheel. You see, the man never stops talking. We spoke about cars, motorcycles, the Kwid’s surprising abilities, his kids, animals and life! To cut a long story short, he’s brilliant at monologues (maybe he isn’t allowed to speak much at home). At least the roads were excellent in this part of the country and I could sleep through another monologue on life, the universe and everything in between (the answer is 13 Aninda, 13! Read the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy!). And so we made it to Mamallapuram where I jumped into the other Kwid.
Popularly known as Mahabalipuram, this is home to 7th and 8th century monuments from the Pallava Dynasty, including the iconic butter ball structure. Alameen tells us that it’s the perfect place to learn wave surfing (explains the Billabong slippers he wears all the time then). But time is money, or in this instance time is a national record and so instead of the surf we headed for Pondicherry. And with the mortal fear of another discourse on life, I took the wheel of the Kwid Climber and sped off before Aninda could flip to a new chapter of the Hitchhiker’s Guide.
Oh, it was also great for the drive. The 100 odd kilometres on the East coast road to Pondi is brilliant – twisties, straights and views in all the right dosage. Believe it or not, the Kwid was a revelation. Our support car, the Duster, has always been praised for outstanding dynamics but all the good bits have clearly filtered down to the Kwid as well. The hatch was on its toes all the time, dancing and having fun. It’s on drives like this that the positives (or negatives) really get highlighted and the Kwid was getting better and better.
We were also falling more in love with our country. If Jehan thinks Shillong is the perfect retirement place for those who love the mountains, music and traffic, then Pondicherry is the perfect alternative to those who love beaches, music and heritage – an eccentric version of Goa. And there isn’t any lack of enthusiasm here. Like this guy who spotted us shooting on the promenade, dropped off his daughter at school, then chased us back to the promenade to have a picture of his own Kwid taken with our Kwids. He was following our journey on social media!
Moments like these inspire you to take it to the next level. And I was continuously being proved wrong by the abilities of the Kwid; not only was it behaving like a big car but was consistently moving towards the national record, without breaking a sweat. Now it was no longer a question of a leap of faith, the Kwid has demonstrated that it was up to any task we could throw at it.
“Kerala’s churches inherit architecture from various ethnicities”
Wish we could’ve spent some more time in Pondicherry, but I wasn’t really complaining. You see, the next stop on the route was Coimbatore, after a quick detour to Kerala. The six-lane highway connecting the states is frequented by supercars and superbikes they said, and they weren’t wrong. People in this region spend their Dirhams wisely, I must say. And you obviously cannot ignore the number of ‘Star Briyani – since 1890’ outlets; they’re everywhere. For over 130 years they’ve not only been getting the name wrong, but even the Briyani (biryani!) is more a pulao. Oh, it’s excellent – you must try it. And then the food gets even better in Kerala with the meat-that-must-not-be-mentioned paired with the fluffy parotas. Oh yummy.
Tummies full we then hit the Nilgiris with their bronze texture and cloud cover. Nitin said Ooty wasn’t too far away, but sigh, we had a task on our hands. Crossing borders, we headed straight to St Mary’s church in Malampuzha, Kerala. Why a church you ask? Kerala’s churches inherit architecture from various ethnicities and are very different from typical Catholic churches. And St. Mary’s was no exception. However, the local Ungle (Mallu uncle) in his mundu wasn’t interested in letting us shoot and shooed us ‘rascals with Haryana plates’ away. Thankfully, Sachin (yes, he’s alive!) managed a few shots and we were back on the beautiful roads. Cranky ungles can’t take anything away from the awesome time we had in Kerala.
Expecting a relatively short drive to Bengaluru, the next day all of us were making plans for half a day at the spa while Nitin, who has been with us right since day one (Bangalore was day 21) finally went home for fresh clothes and a night in his own bed. And Supreme Leader Aniruddha returned to take command and bang some discipline back into us slackers (or that’s what he says, though we all know he’s here because next stop is Goa!).
“The renault kwids proved that a small car can have a big heart”
If Punekars and Mumbaikars driving to Goa have the magical Amboli/Chorla ghats to satiate their Thrill of Driving, Kannadigas don’t have anything to complain about either. The first 300km stretch from Bangalore to Dharwad is a six-laned highway, after which you take a left to Ramnagar. This is one of the best left-handers I have ever taken. The roads that follow are magnificent and the Kwids got back to dancing. You see, in the twisties, you need a car that can handle well while keeping heart stopping moments to a minimum. Though the 180mm ground clearance has the genes of an SUV the Kwid still drives like a hatchback, which it essentially is. The chassis shines through and through, without sacrificing the ride quality. The drive was tremendous fun and we managed to eke out an efficiency of over 17.5kmpl, even with the AMT working with all its might. Goes to show why we see so many Kwids, especially in the hills of the North East.
#MumbaiRains was trending on Twitter and we knew what to expect on this leg. Thankfully, Goa provided a respite and it being the off-season, was quite deserted for a change. Rohit could peacefully shoot the Panjim church while also taking a few shots along the Miramar promenade, which wouldn’t have been possible had we come in November. After a quick tour of the city, we were back on the familiar road to Pune via Amboli. However, Amboli turned out to be a disappointment with broken roads and hooligans on the roads. What made it worse was the dense fog, which was followed by MSRTC buses plying on the centre of the road, making it a point to hit the apex every single time! We needed the next day to recover at our Pune HQ while the Kwids went off for a spit and polish. The Kwids actually didn’t need a visit to the workshop, even after 10,000km+ on the odo the tiny urban hatch was going strong. You have found yourself a fan, dear Kwid.
The next day, the rest of the evo India team, clamouring for some seat time in the Kwid joined in and Afzal took Aninda’s place next to me. I wonder if we could’ve finished the trip in 29 days, had we put the two chatterboxes in the same car! What followed Afzal was his weird playlist of tracks including ‘All the pretty girls’ and other teeny pop shit. Had to exercise rank and throw his phone out of the car otherwise his music and the progressively worsening roads as we headed North would have fried my brain. Gujarat does have excellent highways, and even better service roads populated with Subways and KFCs, but traffic discipline is a nightmare. And then, especially in Rajasthan, there’s cattle all over the road. Hitting a cow would definitely get you killed, either which way. Similarly, while visiting places like Lukshmi Vilas in Vadodara and Chittorgarh in Rajasthan, the local guards were acting really harrowed, although all we wanted was a shot of the car with the sights. At the Chittor fort, the guards came running at our cameras, it’s not as if we were going to catch any Ranis in compromising positions. Amidst all this, when the random playlist suddenly hit ‘We are the champions’, we knew we had achieved the impossible. Rajasthan was state number 29. We’d done it. Getting to Delhi was a mere formality, our Geo Tracker GPS trackers were logging us every step of the way, relaying it back to HQ as well as to the FMSCI who were validating the record and when we hit Rajasthan that was it. National record in the bag! We are the champions, my friend…
However, the true champion is definitely the Kwid. It proved the doubters wrong. It proved that a small car can have a big heart. It proved that a city car can also conquer anything that this country can throw at it. It also proved that it has been designed for this country with not a scratch, not a rattle, not a puncture, not a battle scar to show for this mega endeavour except for the kilometres on the odo and a certificate in the glove box. 29 states in 27 days. A new national record.
