I left Daman on the morning of the 9th. Originally, I had planned to head down the coast to Bombay, a little more than 100 miles away. But I decided to go inland first, over the Western Ghats to Nasik. I did take one last look at the sea before I left Daman. The tide was way out, with waves breaking maybe a mile from the dirty beach. I took the bus to Vapi, arriving about 11 and waited for the 12:30 bus to Nasik. While I was sitting waiting and reading the newspaper, three or four guys in their brown bus uniforms came up to talk with me. One spoke quite good English and invited me to have tea in the little bus terminal cafe. When they heard I was heading to Nasik, they took me to the bus waiting in the yard before it was driven to the platform and got me a good seat before anyone else in what turned out to be a crowded bus.
We headed inland, going east through the flat terrain of the coastal strip. After about 40 minutes, we turned more to the southeast and headed into the hills. The Indian subcontinent is more or less a plateau (the Deccan Plateau), with hills a little inland on both coasts, called the Western Ghats and the Eastern Ghats. The hills we passed through were golden brown, a little like the foothills of the Sierra Nevada in California, though the trees were totally different. Some trees were full of green leaves, while others had almost no leaves, including some tall, thin, gnarly trees with stubby branches. It was quite scenic. The road was good as we rose to about 2000 feet above sea level and reached the border between Gujarat and Maharashtra. The road on the Maharashtra side was considerably worse. We drove along a plateau and then descended a bit and rose again to an even higher plateau before descending a bit to Nasik. We had a twenty minute lunch stop about 3 and got to Nasik, at about 1700 feet elevation, about 4. The last part of the trip passed through a rich agricultural area, with wheat, tomatoes, grapes and other crops. It was interesting to see the vineyards along the road. There are also wineries near Nasik, though I didn't see any. But it's somewhat famous in India for its wine, which is a little odd because Nasik is also a major religious center.
After getting a hotel, I walked to the sacred Godavari River, one of India's seven holy rivers. Nasik is not far downriver from its source in the Western Ghats (it flows across India to the Bay of Bengal) and so the river is not very wide at Nasik. However, the riverside area, called the Ram Kund, is a wide area of concrete ghats (stairs) with narrow channels and wide pools, all of which are filthy, with lots of debris and filmy, oily water in places. There are also temples and an open market. This area is one of the four sites (the others are Haridwar, Allahabad, and Ujjain) of the Kumbh Mela, the world's largest religious festival, held every three years, with each of the four sites getting its turn every twelve years.. In the late afternoon there wasn't much activity, but there were some pilgrims, along with sadhus and beggars and people selling things
I looked around a bit and then walked away from the river for maybe ten minutes to the Kala Rama Temple. Rama and Sita are supposed to have spent some of their exile in Nasik and the temple marks the spot where Rama's brother Lakshmana sliced off the nose of the sister of the evil demon king Ravana. She apparently had turned herself into a beautiful woman in an attempt to seduce the virtuous Rama. In fact, Nasik derives its name from this incident, as "nasika" means "nose." The temple is fairly nondescript, dating from the late 18th century. Despite the antiquity of the site, none of Nasik's temples date from any earlier. Women were sitting nearby and singing, and that was nice. In the sanctuary are three black statues of Rama, his wife Sita and his brother Lakshmana ("Kala" means "black"). The statues were covered in flowers and white linens and looked rather odd. All three had big round white eyes with black pupils, and their mouths also were white and looked somewhat oval. I couldn't make out any other features. Pilgrims were streaming in and out of the sanctuary. I listened to the singing outside for a while, then walked the short distance to the Sita Gumpha, the cave where Sita is supposed to have hidden from Ravana. The cave seems to be behind a relatively modern entrance which had a long line waiting to get in, so I passed up the view of Sita's cave.
Back at the Ram Kund (the ghats along the river) there were a few lighted, floating offerings at dusk. I walked back to my hotel through crowded streets and had a relatively expensive chicken with yogurt and tomato sauce dinner (almost $7) at a fancy restaurant. I thought they perhaps would not let me in as my clothes were dirty (but my hands were clean and this was one of the best chicken dinners that I've ever seen). No hot water at the hotel, so I had a cold water bucket bath. The newspaper had had a story about an unusual March cold wave in Maharashtra, with some lows in the 40's (but highs still in the high 80's and low 90's), but the cold water wasn't too bad. Nasik is relatively cool, perhaps because of the altitude. Highs have been in the low 80's, about 10 degrees cooler than Bombay on the coast a little more than 100 miles away.
It was cool the next morning as I walked to the Ram Kund about 8 or 8:30. I stayed there until about noon and enjoyed watching all the activity. There were lots of pilgrims. There were bathers in the early morning, and washerwomen. I saw a group of woman sadhus, mostly older women and all dressed in orange. I watched several pujas (religious ceremonies) being conducted on the ghats. Barbers were shaving heads and beards. I seemed to be the only foreigner around. A lot of the men, in fact maybe a majority, were dressed in white and wearing what are called Gandhi caps, those white caps that Nehru wore. (Gandhi apparently wore them for only a short time in the early 1920's before he adopted his shaven head, dhoti and sandals look.) The white clothes they wear are very simple, usually thin trousers and shirts that look almost like pajamas. Some men wear white dhotis instead of trousers.
Many if not all the pujas were held in commemoration of dead relatives, often with a framed photo of the deceased on a chair nearby. At one the husband, perhaps in his 40's, of a dead wife sat alone with a priest making the little offerings I've seen elsewhere, while men in white stood nearby and women in colorful saris sat nearby. Some of the women were weeping, a show of emotion I have not seen elsewhere. At the conclusion of the puja, the man took the offerings on a metal plate up stairs to a simple tower and placed them on a surprising ugly metal altar backed by a rusty piece of corrugated metal. Others were making similar offerings and I climbed up the stairs to watch with others. A crow picked at one of the offerings and then flew off with what looked like a little ball of rice in its beak. I was later told that that is a good sign. If a crow eats from the offerings, that means the soul of the deceased is at rest. If not, it is still searching for something. (By the way, in the newspapers, death notices are often entitled "Sad Demise.")
At a pause in the action of another puja being performed by what looked like the son and brother of the man in the photo, both came up to me to ask me where I was from and happily posed for photos. At another one, conducted by five middle aged brothers, with shaved heads and pot bellies (they were wearing only shorts or towels), for their father, with four wizened sisters of the deceased behind them, a man said to me, "My grandfather." He said he had died ten days ago and this puja was for the tenth day. I talked to quite a few people, all very friendly and happy to describe what was going on. I spent about four hours wandering around and watching. By noon the activity was diminishing and I soon walked through the interesting market and then through very crowded streets back to my hotel. The day was the birthday of Shivaji, the 17th century Maratha chieftain, and there were banners and posters and statues set up on the streets, often backed by very loud music, to commemorate the event. He established a Maratha state, fighting against the Moghuls and other Muslim states, and is a hero to the Hindu Marathas. (The people in Maharashtra are predominately Marathas and speak Marathi. Indian states are primarily arranged on a language basis, although in several states in the north Hindi is the predominate language.)
Back at the hotel I had a delicious all-you-can-eat thali lunch, including what they call "buttermilk" (a watery milk which I think is whey, as in "curds and whey") and a custard desert, and then rested in my room. About 4 I headed back to the Ram Kund. There was considerably less activity than in the morning. I wandered through the market and saw grapes (I had some later and they were delicious) and pomegranates and lots of other fruits and vegetables. I saw the longest carrots I've ever seen, a foot or so long. I walked again to the Sita Gumpha and the Kala Rama Temple and heard the women singing again. About 6 I went back to the Ram Kund. There were a few bathers and a few people floating little, lighted offerings on one of the pools. I talked to a guy from Tanzania, an ethnic Indian born there, with parents originally from Kutch in Gujarat.
About 9:30 that night I watched the parade for Shivaji's birthday, consisting mostly of raucous young men sprinkled with orange powder dancing to very loud music. Some were banging drums and some were even banging big pans. Anything to make noise. There were trucks blasting the loud music, a few guys on horses, and a few floats depicting Shivaji. It wasn't a very long parade, less than an hour, I think.
The next morning about 9 I took a bus about 20 miles to the west to Trimbak, site of the Trimbakeshwar Temple, holding one of the twelve jyotirlingas. Trimbak is in a scenic location, with a semi-circle of steep cliffs to the west. The temple has a tall black shikara (tower) but is not particularly attractive. No Hindus are allowed in. There was a long line of Hindus waiting to get in.
I walked fairly quickly through the town crowded with pilgrims to the foot of the hills west of town and about 10 began the climb up to Brahmagiri and the site of the source of the Godavari. The path was fairly rough, not smooth steps like at Girnar and Shatrunjaya. I probably should have worn shoes rather than sandals, though there were old women doing it in their bare feet. If I had been in my bare feet, it would have taken me days. There weren't a lot of pilgrims, but those along the way were very friendly. Despite the time of day, it wasn't too hot. There were trees here and there and a cool breeze. The steep cliffs above were a little intimidating, though. The first part of the hike wasn't too steep. However, reaching the cliff face, steps went up steeply, rising about 150 feet, and then you entered an incredible cleft cut right into the cliff face, rising 200 feet to the top of the cliff and the plateau on top. The cleft had two rock cut gates and a rock cut temple. There were orange painted depictions of Hanuman and another deity cut into the rock walls of the stairway. The steps were very steep through the channel cut into the rock.
The top of the cliff was about 1000 feet above the valley below, with great views of Trimbak below and the mesa-studded countryside in the distance. Apparently, the top of the plateau was once a fort, conquered at one time by Shivaji's father. There wasn't much evidence of it, other than the fantastic rock cut entry through the cliff. A further ascent of about 200 feet took me to the crest of the ridge on the plateau, from where I descended the other side about 200 feet to a temple on the cliff edge. The temple wasn't much, but next to it was a little cement pavilion over what seemed to be a small square well, with three trees around it. This is supposed to be the source of the Godavari, seeping out of the roots of the trees. I later asked a couple of guys how that could be the source of the Godavari when the water in the well doesn't lead to the river and they told me it's just mythological.
A young Brahmin priest sat up the pavilion next to the well and conducted prayers for those who wanted them. He would draw water up out of the well in a pail and then pour it into a bowl to use in the puja. Some pilgrims brought plastic bottles to fill with Godavari water. After looking around a while, with stupendous views over the cliff to the mesas in the distance, I sat under the trees next to the pavilion and watched as pilgrims came and went for maybe an hour. Monkeys (macaques) and goats hovered nearby to eat up the offerings (coconuts and flowers and other things) when the chance arose. The priest had a long stick to ward them off when he felt they merited it, though they were quite successful.
I walked along the cliff face to the north to another little temple, with more fantastic views, and then ascended the ridge to head back to Trimbak. The wind at the top of the ridge was very strong now. After a leisurely walk down, with a stop for some cookies and corn nuts, I got back to Trimbak about 4. After drinking a liter of water, I spent about an hour and a half wandering around town. There was still a long line to get into the Trimbakeshwar Temple. Another temple had a pool of green Godavari water in front of it. Apparently, even being a non-Hindu, I would be permitted to bathe in it, but I chose not to. About 5:30 I took the bus back to Nasik and, after the hike with no lunch, particularly enjoyed the all-you-can-eat thali that night.
I had another two days in Nasik. I had made a hotel reservation for one of the few well-regarded budget hotels in Bombay when I was in Daman, but couldn't get a room until the 14th. The next day was pretty relaxed, and I was tired from the ascent of Brahmagiri the day before. About 11 I went to the Railway Booking Office to buy a train ticket to Bombay. There were four or five lines of maybe ten people each and I got in one. After almost half an hour, when I was third from the window, the ticket seller put up a sign that he was taking a half hour lunch break. Luckily, a very kind young guy in the next line who was the second in line motioned me go in front of him. I asked him if he was sure and he waved me in. No one behind him objected. I got my ticket for 83 rupees (about $1.75) for the almost four hour journey. The autorickshaw to and from the booking office cost me 100 rupees.
About noon I walked to an internet cafe to find it was closed and to find four guys sitting in front all covered in colored powder. I asked a guy why and he told me they celebrate Holi five days later in Nasik. They seemed happy to have me take their photos. A group of young girls, wet and covered in colors, came by and I took their photos, too. They threw powder at each other and I got a little on my feet. One poured some colored water on another's head, but they didn't target me. Nonetheless, I decided to spend the day at the hotel. In the afternoon, most shops were closed and I did see guys coming past the hotel all covered in colored powder. The receptionist had some on his face.
The next morning about 9:30 I took a city bus about five miles southwest of the city to Pandav Lena, a somewhat conical hill with Buddhist caves carved into it about halfway up. It is a steep climb of maybe 300 feet elevation to get to the caves, 24 of them. The earliest are from the first century BC, while most are from the second century AD. Some are just small rock cut cells, but many are quite large and have wonderful carvings in them, though many are worn with age. Some of the rock cut chambers are huge. One was about 50 feet square, I think, and another maybe 60 by 40 feet, with cells cut out off the central chambers. The earliest cave had a stupa to represent Buddha, at the end of a nave with 18 columns. The later caves had Buddha represented in human form, along with many other human forms, bodhisattvas and the like. Some caves had pillars on their entry, with animals (elephants, lions, cows) represented on the capitals. I enjoyed wandering in and out of the cool caves, looking at the sculpture. The views out over the dry countryside were nice, too. I spent about two and a half hours there, and eventually took an autorickshaw back into town, after giving up on the bus.
We headed inland, going east through the flat terrain of the coastal strip. After about 40 minutes, we turned more to the southeast and headed into the hills. The Indian subcontinent is more or less a plateau (the Deccan Plateau), with hills a little inland on both coasts, called the Western Ghats and the Eastern Ghats. The hills we passed through were golden brown, a little like the foothills of the Sierra Nevada in California, though the trees were totally different. Some trees were full of green leaves, while others had almost no leaves, including some tall, thin, gnarly trees with stubby branches. It was quite scenic. The road was good as we rose to about 2000 feet above sea level and reached the border between Gujarat and Maharashtra. The road on the Maharashtra side was considerably worse. We drove along a plateau and then descended a bit and rose again to an even higher plateau before descending a bit to Nasik. We had a twenty minute lunch stop about 3 and got to Nasik, at about 1700 feet elevation, about 4. The last part of the trip passed through a rich agricultural area, with wheat, tomatoes, grapes and other crops. It was interesting to see the vineyards along the road. There are also wineries near Nasik, though I didn't see any. But it's somewhat famous in India for its wine, which is a little odd because Nasik is also a major religious center.
After getting a hotel, I walked to the sacred Godavari River, one of India's seven holy rivers. Nasik is not far downriver from its source in the Western Ghats (it flows across India to the Bay of Bengal) and so the river is not very wide at Nasik. However, the riverside area, called the Ram Kund, is a wide area of concrete ghats (stairs) with narrow channels and wide pools, all of which are filthy, with lots of debris and filmy, oily water in places. There are also temples and an open market. This area is one of the four sites (the others are Haridwar, Allahabad, and Ujjain) of the Kumbh Mela, the world's largest religious festival, held every three years, with each of the four sites getting its turn every twelve years.. In the late afternoon there wasn't much activity, but there were some pilgrims, along with sadhus and beggars and people selling things
I looked around a bit and then walked away from the river for maybe ten minutes to the Kala Rama Temple. Rama and Sita are supposed to have spent some of their exile in Nasik and the temple marks the spot where Rama's brother Lakshmana sliced off the nose of the sister of the evil demon king Ravana. She apparently had turned herself into a beautiful woman in an attempt to seduce the virtuous Rama. In fact, Nasik derives its name from this incident, as "nasika" means "nose." The temple is fairly nondescript, dating from the late 18th century. Despite the antiquity of the site, none of Nasik's temples date from any earlier. Women were sitting nearby and singing, and that was nice. In the sanctuary are three black statues of Rama, his wife Sita and his brother Lakshmana ("Kala" means "black"). The statues were covered in flowers and white linens and looked rather odd. All three had big round white eyes with black pupils, and their mouths also were white and looked somewhat oval. I couldn't make out any other features. Pilgrims were streaming in and out of the sanctuary. I listened to the singing outside for a while, then walked the short distance to the Sita Gumpha, the cave where Sita is supposed to have hidden from Ravana. The cave seems to be behind a relatively modern entrance which had a long line waiting to get in, so I passed up the view of Sita's cave.
Back at the Ram Kund (the ghats along the river) there were a few lighted, floating offerings at dusk. I walked back to my hotel through crowded streets and had a relatively expensive chicken with yogurt and tomato sauce dinner (almost $7) at a fancy restaurant. I thought they perhaps would not let me in as my clothes were dirty (but my hands were clean and this was one of the best chicken dinners that I've ever seen). No hot water at the hotel, so I had a cold water bucket bath. The newspaper had had a story about an unusual March cold wave in Maharashtra, with some lows in the 40's (but highs still in the high 80's and low 90's), but the cold water wasn't too bad. Nasik is relatively cool, perhaps because of the altitude. Highs have been in the low 80's, about 10 degrees cooler than Bombay on the coast a little more than 100 miles away.
It was cool the next morning as I walked to the Ram Kund about 8 or 8:30. I stayed there until about noon and enjoyed watching all the activity. There were lots of pilgrims. There were bathers in the early morning, and washerwomen. I saw a group of woman sadhus, mostly older women and all dressed in orange. I watched several pujas (religious ceremonies) being conducted on the ghats. Barbers were shaving heads and beards. I seemed to be the only foreigner around. A lot of the men, in fact maybe a majority, were dressed in white and wearing what are called Gandhi caps, those white caps that Nehru wore. (Gandhi apparently wore them for only a short time in the early 1920's before he adopted his shaven head, dhoti and sandals look.) The white clothes they wear are very simple, usually thin trousers and shirts that look almost like pajamas. Some men wear white dhotis instead of trousers.
Many if not all the pujas were held in commemoration of dead relatives, often with a framed photo of the deceased on a chair nearby. At one the husband, perhaps in his 40's, of a dead wife sat alone with a priest making the little offerings I've seen elsewhere, while men in white stood nearby and women in colorful saris sat nearby. Some of the women were weeping, a show of emotion I have not seen elsewhere. At the conclusion of the puja, the man took the offerings on a metal plate up stairs to a simple tower and placed them on a surprising ugly metal altar backed by a rusty piece of corrugated metal. Others were making similar offerings and I climbed up the stairs to watch with others. A crow picked at one of the offerings and then flew off with what looked like a little ball of rice in its beak. I was later told that that is a good sign. If a crow eats from the offerings, that means the soul of the deceased is at rest. If not, it is still searching for something. (By the way, in the newspapers, death notices are often entitled "Sad Demise.")
At a pause in the action of another puja being performed by what looked like the son and brother of the man in the photo, both came up to me to ask me where I was from and happily posed for photos. At another one, conducted by five middle aged brothers, with shaved heads and pot bellies (they were wearing only shorts or towels), for their father, with four wizened sisters of the deceased behind them, a man said to me, "My grandfather." He said he had died ten days ago and this puja was for the tenth day. I talked to quite a few people, all very friendly and happy to describe what was going on. I spent about four hours wandering around and watching. By noon the activity was diminishing and I soon walked through the interesting market and then through very crowded streets back to my hotel. The day was the birthday of Shivaji, the 17th century Maratha chieftain, and there were banners and posters and statues set up on the streets, often backed by very loud music, to commemorate the event. He established a Maratha state, fighting against the Moghuls and other Muslim states, and is a hero to the Hindu Marathas. (The people in Maharashtra are predominately Marathas and speak Marathi. Indian states are primarily arranged on a language basis, although in several states in the north Hindi is the predominate language.)
Back at the hotel I had a delicious all-you-can-eat thali lunch, including what they call "buttermilk" (a watery milk which I think is whey, as in "curds and whey") and a custard desert, and then rested in my room. About 4 I headed back to the Ram Kund. There was considerably less activity than in the morning. I wandered through the market and saw grapes (I had some later and they were delicious) and pomegranates and lots of other fruits and vegetables. I saw the longest carrots I've ever seen, a foot or so long. I walked again to the Sita Gumpha and the Kala Rama Temple and heard the women singing again. About 6 I went back to the Ram Kund. There were a few bathers and a few people floating little, lighted offerings on one of the pools. I talked to a guy from Tanzania, an ethnic Indian born there, with parents originally from Kutch in Gujarat.
About 9:30 that night I watched the parade for Shivaji's birthday, consisting mostly of raucous young men sprinkled with orange powder dancing to very loud music. Some were banging drums and some were even banging big pans. Anything to make noise. There were trucks blasting the loud music, a few guys on horses, and a few floats depicting Shivaji. It wasn't a very long parade, less than an hour, I think.
The next morning about 9 I took a bus about 20 miles to the west to Trimbak, site of the Trimbakeshwar Temple, holding one of the twelve jyotirlingas. Trimbak is in a scenic location, with a semi-circle of steep cliffs to the west. The temple has a tall black shikara (tower) but is not particularly attractive. No Hindus are allowed in. There was a long line of Hindus waiting to get in.
I walked fairly quickly through the town crowded with pilgrims to the foot of the hills west of town and about 10 began the climb up to Brahmagiri and the site of the source of the Godavari. The path was fairly rough, not smooth steps like at Girnar and Shatrunjaya. I probably should have worn shoes rather than sandals, though there were old women doing it in their bare feet. If I had been in my bare feet, it would have taken me days. There weren't a lot of pilgrims, but those along the way were very friendly. Despite the time of day, it wasn't too hot. There were trees here and there and a cool breeze. The steep cliffs above were a little intimidating, though. The first part of the hike wasn't too steep. However, reaching the cliff face, steps went up steeply, rising about 150 feet, and then you entered an incredible cleft cut right into the cliff face, rising 200 feet to the top of the cliff and the plateau on top. The cleft had two rock cut gates and a rock cut temple. There were orange painted depictions of Hanuman and another deity cut into the rock walls of the stairway. The steps were very steep through the channel cut into the rock.
The top of the cliff was about 1000 feet above the valley below, with great views of Trimbak below and the mesa-studded countryside in the distance. Apparently, the top of the plateau was once a fort, conquered at one time by Shivaji's father. There wasn't much evidence of it, other than the fantastic rock cut entry through the cliff. A further ascent of about 200 feet took me to the crest of the ridge on the plateau, from where I descended the other side about 200 feet to a temple on the cliff edge. The temple wasn't much, but next to it was a little cement pavilion over what seemed to be a small square well, with three trees around it. This is supposed to be the source of the Godavari, seeping out of the roots of the trees. I later asked a couple of guys how that could be the source of the Godavari when the water in the well doesn't lead to the river and they told me it's just mythological.
A young Brahmin priest sat up the pavilion next to the well and conducted prayers for those who wanted them. He would draw water up out of the well in a pail and then pour it into a bowl to use in the puja. Some pilgrims brought plastic bottles to fill with Godavari water. After looking around a while, with stupendous views over the cliff to the mesas in the distance, I sat under the trees next to the pavilion and watched as pilgrims came and went for maybe an hour. Monkeys (macaques) and goats hovered nearby to eat up the offerings (coconuts and flowers and other things) when the chance arose. The priest had a long stick to ward them off when he felt they merited it, though they were quite successful.
I walked along the cliff face to the north to another little temple, with more fantastic views, and then ascended the ridge to head back to Trimbak. The wind at the top of the ridge was very strong now. After a leisurely walk down, with a stop for some cookies and corn nuts, I got back to Trimbak about 4. After drinking a liter of water, I spent about an hour and a half wandering around town. There was still a long line to get into the Trimbakeshwar Temple. Another temple had a pool of green Godavari water in front of it. Apparently, even being a non-Hindu, I would be permitted to bathe in it, but I chose not to. About 5:30 I took the bus back to Nasik and, after the hike with no lunch, particularly enjoyed the all-you-can-eat thali that night.
I had another two days in Nasik. I had made a hotel reservation for one of the few well-regarded budget hotels in Bombay when I was in Daman, but couldn't get a room until the 14th. The next day was pretty relaxed, and I was tired from the ascent of Brahmagiri the day before. About 11 I went to the Railway Booking Office to buy a train ticket to Bombay. There were four or five lines of maybe ten people each and I got in one. After almost half an hour, when I was third from the window, the ticket seller put up a sign that he was taking a half hour lunch break. Luckily, a very kind young guy in the next line who was the second in line motioned me go in front of him. I asked him if he was sure and he waved me in. No one behind him objected. I got my ticket for 83 rupees (about $1.75) for the almost four hour journey. The autorickshaw to and from the booking office cost me 100 rupees.
About noon I walked to an internet cafe to find it was closed and to find four guys sitting in front all covered in colored powder. I asked a guy why and he told me they celebrate Holi five days later in Nasik. They seemed happy to have me take their photos. A group of young girls, wet and covered in colors, came by and I took their photos, too. They threw powder at each other and I got a little on my feet. One poured some colored water on another's head, but they didn't target me. Nonetheless, I decided to spend the day at the hotel. In the afternoon, most shops were closed and I did see guys coming past the hotel all covered in colored powder. The receptionist had some on his face.
The next morning about 9:30 I took a city bus about five miles southwest of the city to Pandav Lena, a somewhat conical hill with Buddhist caves carved into it about halfway up. It is a steep climb of maybe 300 feet elevation to get to the caves, 24 of them. The earliest are from the first century BC, while most are from the second century AD. Some are just small rock cut cells, but many are quite large and have wonderful carvings in them, though many are worn with age. Some of the rock cut chambers are huge. One was about 50 feet square, I think, and another maybe 60 by 40 feet, with cells cut out off the central chambers. The earliest cave had a stupa to represent Buddha, at the end of a nave with 18 columns. The later caves had Buddha represented in human form, along with many other human forms, bodhisattvas and the like. Some caves had pillars on their entry, with animals (elephants, lions, cows) represented on the capitals. I enjoyed wandering in and out of the cool caves, looking at the sculpture. The views out over the dry countryside were nice, too. I spent about two and a half hours there, and eventually took an autorickshaw back into town, after giving up on the bus.
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