Never Do a Solo Car Trip Without a Jumper Cable

This incident happened when I went on a 1000 Km solo car trip from Pune to Tiruvannamalai in 2018. After leaving Pune, I stopped over at Belagavi for a night of rest and was ready to leave for Bangalore, my second stopover.

I slept well, but when the alarm rang at 5:30 AM, my head was still foggy, my calves and lower back ached, my stomach was a bit uneasy, and my body just did not feel strong enough to start the day. A seven-hour sleep had proved to be insufficient for my body to recover from the previous day’s journey.

Even though I’m totally off medication for Crohn’s Disease, I get tired very easily and need more than average time to recuperate. That’s one of the reasons, along with a cultivated love of solitude, why I prefer to travel solo. It’s difficult for me to know in advance when I’ll need additional rest. Travelling alone makes it easier to change plans on the fly to accommodate my health.

I went back to sleep for some more rest.

It was about 7:30 by the time I washed, changed, and stepped out to start for Bangalore.

An hour’s delay wasn’t that big a deal. Bangalore was about nine hours from Belagavi. Even if it took me two more hours due to stops and traffic, I’d still reach Pyramid Valley by 6:30 in the evening.

The extra sleep helped me feel energised, and I walked down in good spirits, loaded the car, and turned on the ignition.

Click. Click. Click. The ignition gave a dead click. No cranking and obviously no firing up either.

The battery was dead. Totally dead.

Before leaving from Pune, I had purchased a portable machine to fill air in the tyres but forgot to buy a jumper cable. Lesson learned – batteries go dead at the most unexpected times; never travel without a jumper cable.

I called Abhi to ask him if he had one. He didn’t, but he asked his neighbours. Unfortunately, they didn’t either.

Abhi came down to help me push the car, hoping it would start if there was even a trace of juice left in the battery. We took turns pushing the car, but after two rounds up and down the road, the car still refused to start.

Meanwhile, unknown to me, a gentleman on his daily morning walk was watching us struggle with the car. He took pity and volunteered to help. The three of us tried for fifteen more minutes, but the car was adamant and we were panting.

It didn’t look like a push was going to start the car, so we pushed it to the side of the road and decided to wait till one of the local mechanics opened their garage.

We thanked the unknown gentleman who had generously given us his time and energy.

“No, no, you are a guest. It was my duty to help,” he said cheerfully, trying to make me feel less guilty.

Abhi said he was planning to leave for work in about half an hour and that he could drop me to a place in the city where I’d be able to find car mechanics.

I waited downstairs, and true to his word, we left in thirty minutes. Abhi stopped his car at a large crossroads a few kilometres from the apartment. He said there were about three mechanics in that neighbourhood. He didn’t know the exact locations, but that was fine - I could ask around.

I thanked Abhi for all the help and kindness he had shown me. He said the same thing the other gentleman had said—that I was a guest in Belagavi and he was happy to help. Before leaving, he mentioned that shops in Belagavi didn’t usually open this early. I might have to wait till 10:00 or even 10:30 AM.

“But you might find a mechanic sooner if you are lucky,” he added encouragingly.

If you enjoyed this excerpt, then you'll also enjoy my travelogue -- Tiruvannamalai Beckons. You can buy it here.