A short flight.
An overnight train.
A long bus ride that erases the distance in a single stretch.

Most travelers choose one of these, and in doing so pass over a stretch of coastline that remains, even now, just outside the main current of travel—the Konkan coast.

Pressed between the Arabian Sea and the long wall of the Western Ghats, the Konkan unfolds quietly. It does not present itself all at once. It reveals itself in fragments: a fishing village at the edge of an inlet, a road winding beneath coconut palms, a ferry crossing that interrupts the day without apology. For long stretches, there is simply space—between places, between encounters, between moments.

It is this continuity, more than any single highlight, that defines the experience.

The Ride

Cycling from Mumbai to Goa is not about covering distance. It is about moving through a landscape at a pace that allows it to take shape.

The journey begins at the Gateway of India, crossing the harbor to Mandwa, where the city quickly gives way to quieter roads. From there, the route follows the coastal spine southward—through Alibag, Murud-Janjira, Harnai, Guhagar, and beyond—before eventually reaching the southern edge of Maharashtra near Vengurla.

Along the way, the coastline bends and folds.

There are no continuous roads here. The land gives way to water, and the ride pauses at ferry crossings—small boats carrying people, bicycles, and the occasional vehicle across wide estuaries. Progress is never entirely linear. You follow the shape of the coast, and the coast decides the rhythm.

The terrain is never extreme, but it is never flat. Short climbs rise over low headlands, followed by descents toward the sea. Inland stretches offer relief from the heat, while the return to the coast brings the horizon back into view.

And always, there is the heat—part of the experience, shaping the day, dictating when to ride and when to stop.

Why This Route Still Matters

The Konkan is changing.

Roads are improving, access is easier, and development is slowly extending south from Mumbai and north from Goa. It is not difficult to see what this coastline may become in time.

But for now, much of it remains as it has been—quiet, local, and largely unmediated.

There are no curated stops here. No carefully constructed experiences. What you encounter is simply what is there: villages that exist for themselves, not for visitors; roads that connect places rather than showcase them; a coastline that reveals itself gradually, without explanation.

To cycle through it is to experience that continuity directly.

The Book

I first rode the Konkan coast years ago, as part of a longer journey through South India. It stayed with me—not because of any single moment, but because of how the entire stretch unfolded.

This new paperback, Cycling the Konkan Coast: Mumbai to Goa, a PDF, is a reworked and updated version of that original journey.

It is not a traditional guidebook.

There are no exhaustive listings, no step-by-step instructions. Instead, the book follows the route as it is experienced—stage by stage, with practical detail where it matters, but always grounded in the ride itself.

The aim is simple: to give you a clear sense of what it feels like to travel this coastline by bicycle.

In the End

Cycling the Konkan coast is not the fastest way to reach Goa.

It is not the easiest.

But it is, in every sense, a more direct one.

A way of arriving not just at a destination, but through a landscape—one that, for now, still allows itself to be experienced on its own terms.

The post Cycling the Konkan Coast: Mumbai to Goa appeared first on Footloose Cycling.

As I flew home from Christchurch, I reflected on my one-month New Zealand cycling adventure, during which I explored some of the island’s most renowned regions for natural beauty. The South Island is truly amazing, but what stood out to me as a cyclist wasn’t just the scenery—it was the reality of road cycling in this part of the world.

Off-road cycling trails in the South Island are immensely popular, and for good reason. The landscapes beg to be explored on two wheels. However, there’s another, more practical reason: the roads themselves are narrow and often dangerous for cycling. With limited shoulders and tight two-way lanes, road cyclists frequently find themselves in stressful situations with passing traffic, which can often get heavy.

New Zealand’s tourism, which was severely impacted by COVID-19, has rebounded, and visitors are back in great numbers. Statistics show that most tourists visit the South Island for about 10 days, typically renting cars to explore. While Australians make up a significant portion of international visitors, the rest include North Americans, Europeans, Chinese, and Koreans—many of whom lack experience driving on the left side of the road.

This poses a major challenge for road cyclists. The combination of narrow roads, inexperienced left-side-of-the-road drivers, and increased tourist traffic creates a stressful and sometimes dangerous experience for those traveling by bike. While the South Island remains an incredible destination, these road conditions reinforce why many cyclists prefer the safety and beauty of off-road trails. The government, in partnership with regional councils and local tourism operators, has created a system where cyclists can plan multi-day tours across large swaths of the country without ever having to ride on a busy road. But is the trend all positive? Read on: Between the Trail and the Tarmac: Cycling New Zealand’s South Island Off the Beaten Pack.

The post Cycling New Zealand’s South Island: A Reflection appeared first on Footloose Cycling.

I was keen on accessing it, however, from the east. At first I wasn’t sure that would have been possible, but scouring the coastline of the north coast of East Java, I discovered the insignificant port of Jangkar Pier.

Offering a virtual back door to the far eastern end of Madura, I had to use it.

Madura turned out to be a surprise and a highlight of the tail end of my journey. East Java wouldn’t have been as memorable had I not have included Madura in my trip.

Madura’s people, despite the stories you come across of hot-tempered men and being a hotbed of traditional, conservative Islam, are, as all Javanese, friendly and inviting, and the island’s scenery a pleasant mix.

The capital, Sumenep, was a pleasant surprise. Its Grand Mosque (featured image) is an impressive piece of architecture.

From Cycling Java, Indonesia

The post Cycling Madura Island, East Java, Indonesia appeared first on Footloose Cycling.

Reassured that only at nighttime lions may come by, I push off to tackle the body of water. Told it’s only a foot deep or so, I realize I forgot to ask whether a mugger crocodile or two may inhabit these waters; never mind the cobras and pythons I read about.

Confident with my bicycle handling, I enter the pond …

From Cycling Mumbai to Diu

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