Maharashtra

08:30
I wake with my alarm at 07:00, and have had a banging sleep. I’ve a driver booked for today, to take me on a tour of the surrounding areas of Aurangabad. To the North of the city are the Ellora caves, a series of monasteries and temples built into the cave structures. It houses temples for the Hindu, Buddhist and Jain faiths alongside each other, exemplifying the trait of religious tolerance. The earliest of these temples is around 1,500 years old. It’s rightly been made a Unesco World Heritage site, and i’m excited to visit.

After my and Vicki’s less than successful tempe visiting day in Bangkok last year, I’m mindful to check if there are any dress codes or guidance for visitors. One website helpfully tells me to dress ‘appropriately.’ Cheers for that. I can’t find any mention of long trousers, nor of shoulder coverage, but decide that three-quarters and a t-shirt is the way to go. I’m also advised to wear flip-flops, as it’s a shoes off type situation before entering the caves. Critically, I’m told that mobile phones are not allowed in the complex. This is an actual piece of newsworthy guidance. I grab my SLR, as these ARE allowed… I don’t quite understand the banning of mobile phones at some Indian monuments, but not all. Perhaps it’s the decision of the religion to which the monument is dedicated. I make a note to look into this later.

I’ve talked a lot about the differences between me as a traveller twenty years ago, and me as a traveller now. I have my own driver for the day today, and a lovely, big and spacious SUV. Twenty years ago, I’d have deffo looked for a shared trip, to cut down on cost. The $35 I’m spending on a private vehicle for the day feels more than worth it. I can stick to my own timetable, go where I want, and can sit and write this journal with impunity, in the knowledge that I’m not ignoring my fellow passengers. I’m also not convinced there would have been another 4 tourists with whom to share a vehicle. I seem to be the only foreign tourist in town…

10:45
Lies, lies, and yet more lies.

1) Taking your phone into the Ellora cave complex IS allowed.
2) There is one and only one of the 34 caves where you’ll be asked to remove your footwear. As the cave’s go, it’s one of the dullest.
3) Wear what you want.

Google AI proving that AI, whilst perhaps the future, is definitively not the present.

All that aside, the cave complex is stunning. As we arrive, my driver hands me over to a pleasant guy called Siddiq. Siddiq is going to show me where to buy a ticket and so on. As we walk towards the entrance, Siddiq points out his shop, that sells sculptures and crystals. I tell him I’m not interested. He says that’s ok - I’ll will buy on the way back. *sigh*

This kinda arrangement is incredibly common in India. Feroz, my driver, will be on a commission if I DO buy anything (which I won’t). Siddiq is very kind though, and lends me a guidebook for the cave complex.

Inside the complex, it’s immediately striking how much work must have gone into creating these edifices. I start at cave 1, to the East of the site, and work my way back to the middle. Some of the caves are much bigger than others. Cave 5, for example, was a congregating temple, and would have comfortably held 500. Cave 1 is a little more circumspect, and perhaps held 50. All feature intricate carvings into the stone. These are monolithic caves - i.e.they’re created out of a single piece of stone - the rock that forms the hills in which they’re located.

I’m struck by how well some of them have survived the 1,500 or so years since they were built. Sals and I visited Egypt with Mum and Dad back in 2006, and were similarly struck by the artwork in the famous temples at Edfu and Komombo. It’s staggering to me that I’m looking at broadly what the Buddhists, Hindus and Jainists would have been looking at over 1,000 years back.

Cave 16 is the most impressive of the temples, and is the largest monolithic structure in the world. It’s a Hindu temple dedicated to Shiva, and is littered with carvings of elephants. There’s one though that looks very different. Kind of an elephant crossed with a dragon. As you walk in, there’s a sculpture of the goddess Lakhmi being sprayed with water by two elephants.

Throughout my visit, I’m asked for photos.At this towering monument to human construction, I’m the tourist attraction for some. I get a little narked when one guy asks for a selfie, and as he’s taking it, yanks my beard. He gets a swift Bhaad Mein Jao…

Next, on to Daulatabad Fort, a citadel built into a hill 20km South of here. It was built in the 9th century AD, and survives in pretty good condition, apparently….

12:30
The fort complex is commanding, and impressive. It’s split into sections over the entire hill, from base to peak. I climb ‘most’ of the way to the top but admit defeat. It’s getting properly hot, and there’s next to no shade.

I pass by a large family of langurs, and hear a strange crinkling noise. They’re opening packets of food. What looks like little packets of individual sweets. I’m part impressed, that their dexterity is such that they open them without issue, and part saddened to see how humanised they’ve become.

I spend some time climbing a large minaret, apparently built in the 15th century after the Delhi sultanate whupped the Gujaratis in some kind of war type thing.

I mosey around the cannon gallery, featuring cannons used at the fort over the many centuries. I’m particularly struck by the ornate features of one of them - a couple of lions (or tigers) have been sculpted onto the cannon barrel. Very chic warfare. I’m also gladdened to see that there’s a sign identifying all of the key parts of a cannon, one of which is called the knob.

Feroz asks if there’s anywhere else I want to see. He’s on the clock until 15:00. There’s a miniature (not properly miniature, but just smaller) version of the Taj Mahal about 20km to the East of us, but:

1) I’ve visited the real Taj on this trip, and it won’t stand up well, and
2) Heat / shade combo not good.

I tell Feroz to head back to my hotel. I can foresee an afternoon of beer and naps, ahead of England’s game against France at Twickenham later….

19:00
Lunch was spectacular, in more than one way…

As I sit down at an outside table at Harry’s Bar, one of the waiter dudes is already on his way to me with an ice-cold Kingfisher, and a frosted glass from the freezer. Now THAT’S what I call service. I order some mutton kebabs, and when they arrive, they’re amazing. Juicy, well spiced, flecked with fresh chilli - delicious. I mop them up with a much needed cooling cucumber raita, and some roti.

Inside the bar, there’s a group of perhaps 15 women, having quite the good time. I wonder if it’s a hen party, or perhaps a birthday celebration. My wondering is answered a little later, when they come outside to sing happy birthday, with a cake and candles combo. I join in the singing, much to their delight, and they insist that I join them for cake. The birthday girl is Hattishah, and today is her 30th birthday. They’re a group of family and friends, ranging from 20 to 73 years old. I’m asked lots of questions about my trip - where I’ve been, where I’ve enjoyed most, which foods I’ve liked… Only a couple of them speak good English, but they translate effectively for the others. They’re incredibly fun to hang out with for a while, though at one point I have a suspicion that the grandmother is considering marrying me off to one of her family.

The combination of food, beer and conversation has left me sleepy, so around 16:00 I head back to my room, and put my head down for a nap. I initially plan on an hour, but change my alarm at 17:00 for another hour, and get straight back to sleep.

When I wake, my head is a little stuffed up. My throat was a bit thick earlier, and I suspect this might be the next step on the way to a cold. Hopefully it’s just a slight case of the sniffles. FINGERS CROSSED.

00:15
Allez les Blancs!

Around 20:30, I head down to Harry’s for dinner. I’m starting to feel a bit sub-standard, and don’t fancy heading out for an explore. I fancy something other than Indian cuisine this evening. The thickness in my throat has turned sore, and I suspect chilli heat will not be its friend. I have some lamb in black bean sauce (or to give it its menu moniker - lamp in black bean sauce) and it’s tasty. Also suitably un-hot. I forego a beer, and stick to water.

Time’s pushing on, and I’ve got a game of rugby to watch. The WiFi in the hotel isn’t the best. Spotty and slow. I test the speed over a cellular connection, and it’s much better. Still not great, but it’ll have to do. The game is streaming on ITV. I start watching the first half, and it’s buffering a lot. I get kicked out at one point, and can’t get back onto the live-stream. I hmmph quite a lot, and talk to my iPad quite a bit. Just for shits and giggles, I try the Sky Go app, as I can live-stream TV channels through that. ITV streams perfectly. I don’t particularly understand why, but I’ll take it.

The first half of the game is scrappy. France are a technically better team, but after a day’s heavy rain in London, make a ton of handling errors. It’s 7-7 at half-time, and that’s about fair. The second half is a ding-dong roundabout. The lead changes hands multiple times. England are 19-18 up with 10 to go, but France score with 5 on the clock, to lead 25-19. I fear an England capitulation, but am happily stunned when the cross for a try with all but the last play of the game. England win a cracker of a game 26-25. By no means the tightest of performances, but one full of heart and grit. It bodes well.

Knackered. Time for bed…Read more