… caving in to the heat
Heading from Mapusa by any means necessary, back in one version of ‘real India’. By any means necessary of course means an overnight bus. Plenty of ’em, and no booking necessary. No time to book a train, so … it’s just not the most pleasant way to get around India … add all the things you don’t like about bus journeys to the trashed state of the majority of India’s main roads. Northern Karnataka’s roads are particularly disasterous … big iron ore mines, overloaded indian lorries, corrupt weighbridge operators, and a thriving black market in the ore slipping big trucks under the tax radar down roads between Hampi Goa and Mumbai. I’m not looking forward to the journey but I’ve got itchy feet, and it’s time to get them moving. Poona is a likely destination, and means I can avoid Mumbai … not in the mood for another big city, though Mumbai would be interesting.
Poona, Maharastra, at 6am looks drab and uninviting. I decide not to stay. I think it’s main claim to fame is the Osho meditation resort … I find a bit more about it later from a girl in Varanasi who’d spent a few nights there. Definitely a money trap for spiritually lost westerners. Every kind of spiritual gimick, compulsory maroon robes from the resort’s mall, maroon bikinis needed to use the resort pool. Glad I didn’t have a closer look.
I float around Poona looking for the state bus station, and stumble across a private bus headed for Angarabad leaving at 7am. This is the destination I’d had in mind, the nearest big city to the 6th century Buddhist cave temples at Ellora. Just enough time to throw down the proper Indian breakfast that I’d been dreaming of in Goa. One hour break between busses … oh joy. Travelling through hot harsh country … bus stops in small towns, the guys with long white shirts (kurtu) and turbans, traditional kit to beat the heat, women with bright sari’s, bullock carts a lot more common than down south, no shortage of cows in the streets… arrive in Angarabad late afternoon, and hunt down a hotel for a few nights stay. Meet an Israeli guy, Amir. We hang out once I’ve found a place, have a wander around town, check out Angarabad’s mini-Taj,
a replica built by the son of the builder of the big Taj. Obviously the cash drawer was running a bit low for the second generation version, but the idea was the same. Nice architecture, but looking a bit worse for wear. You can see the whole thing from the hill behind, which saves a few hundred roops. Arangabad’s saving grace, a small milk bar with fantastic fruit milk shakes for twelve roops just near the hotel. Half a dozen beats the heat.
Amir heads north next day, and I’m off to Ellora. Run into another crazy Israeli, Yaron, on the local bus to Ellora village. The world heritage site is just next to the village. And it is truly amazing. Shallow rock escarpments have been carved into Buddhist prayer halls, monk cells, amazing carvings serene boddhisatvas, buddha images everywhere, as enigmatic as only Buddha can be. The caves are huge, several multi-storey complexes. A mind bending amount of rock moved to carve these deliciously cool zones. Several years of chiselling and decorating for each cave. The site is touristy, but not oppressively. Not too many security guards, and Yaron does a few cheesy photos in Buddhas lap, and whispering into his ear. I take time out for recording raga improvs on the clarinet in various spaces … and just hanging out, getting a feel of what it was like for the monks. For me, a bit too hot to sit back and meditate, but a great place to kick back and chew the fat. Acoustics in the main prayer hall are amazing … colossal reverb, beautifully pitched.
Further along the site, India abruptly reverts to Hinduism around the 7th century, and the character of the caves changes abruptly.. The serenity and simplicity give way to a mad riot of deities elephants, angels, demons, devas and carved lingam. Amazingly detailed. In the middle of this is the Kalaisha temple, almost insane in its audacity. A temple full with statues, geometric designs, arches, decorated pillars, sivas, ganeshas, dragons, hindu altars, carved straight out of the hill. At first glace you would assume it built stone by stone, statue by statue, in the middle of a quarry … but no, that would have been too easy. It is fully 50x50m or so, and a good 2-3 stories high. According to the books it was more than 100 years work, and must have kept many families of sculptors employed for several generations. Yaron and I save 250 Rs, and save ourselves the bustle and stress of the several hundred Indian tourists that are milling around (they don’t much linger with the Buddhist and Jain temples) … you can see the whole thing more clearly from above and behind on the hill. Several more Hindu temples further along the escarpment, all amazing … Yaron doing some rodeo shots on the back of a Nandi statue, the archetypal Hindu sacred cow … one wall of temples is split by a waterfall during monsoon, which must be stunning: ellora is semi arid for most of the year, but will green up after the rains. Further on, a couple of smaller, but even more finely carved Jain temples.
Back in Angarabad for one more night, and another half a dozen fruit shakes. Next day to an earlier sight Ajanta, pure Buddhist. I’ve got a ticket to Varanasi from Jalgaon, the nearest railway town to Ajanta. Arangabad is a bit grubby, hot, has lousy food, and average hotels. The L****y Planet describes it as ‘tatty’. Not quite sure what they mean but I can see why they would call it that. Nice place to visit but … well, anyway, I’m movin on.
Local buses to Ajanta. This is a lot more developed as a tourist center. “Postcards. 100Rs” “Come look my shop”. For some reason a lot more famous than Ellora out there in tourist land. Equally amazing. Pure Buddhist, in a much more elaborate style than Ellora’s buddhist caves, with 3 of the caves stunningly painted with boddhisattvas, scenes of life, parables. Meeting halls, eating halls, prayer halls. It feels more compact, more like it was deserted for no apparent reason sometime in the 5th century. Split by a small intermittent waterfall, twould be beautiful just after monsoon. But this is a much more supervised site. No music, no shenanigans. Sit back (for no more than 15 minutes per cave) and admire the beauty. The passive observation is a tad bland after the silliness at Ellora, though Ajanta is perhaps a more stunning and elaborate piece of work. I’m trucking a sax, and blow blues into the horseshoe valley as the last tourists leave. Just manage to catch the last bus to Jalgaon myself, after getting into a bit of a yarn with some local musicians.
Jalgaon, for some reason, I quite like. Perhaps it’s because I find an amazing ice cream palace almost straight away. I can thoroughly reccomend the rosewater flavour. And Jalgaon … it just seems a tad less messy than Arangabad. Cheap dodgy hotel, but after a few days wandering around collecting sweat, a long succession of cold showers is bliss. Morning train to Varanasi … this is a story all in itself, albeit a story that was an hour and a half late.
