On the morning of the 16th, I left Warangal, taking an autorickshaw to the neighboring town of Kazipet and arriving at the railway station just in time to catch the train heading north to Chandrapur, about 150 miles away in the state of Maharashtra. This train was a "Super Fast Express" heading from Hyderabad to New Delhi and was crowded. I didn't have a reserved seat, but eventually got a place to sit. The fast train passed through increasingly drier, but still green, terrain, with rice and cotton and other crops, but also lots of scrub. We crossed the Godavari and other rivers and reached Chandrapur just before 1 p.m., a little over four hours from Kazipet. About 2:30 I caught a very crowded bus, though I did get a seat (saved for me by a guy who instructed an old woman sitting next to him to move to another seat) on the bumpy road further north to the village of Moharli. We passed a huge open pit coal mine on the way, with mountains of tailings on the other side of the road.
It took only about an hour to get to Moharli, a small village at the southern edge of Tadoba-Andhari National Park, a tiger reserve. I got off near the interesting village market. There were a lot of police around and I had seen a helicopter on the way into the village. I walked through the village looking for a place to stay and arrived at the gates of the park, where I noticed two other westerners. They were Australians who were visiting India for the wedding of an Indian friend from Chandrapur who now lives and works in Australia. They were hoping to enter the park that afternoon, but it turned out that the Chief Minister of Maharashtra was touring the park (hence the helicopter and police) and all others were forbidden entry till he left. We chatted and waited for the Chief Minister, as did the District Collector and other dignitaries, some with bouquets of flowers. I had asked about sharing a gypsy (a jeep-like vehicle) with them for touring the park and they agreed. Sometime after 5, with the Chief Minister nowhere to be seen, they gave up on being able to enter the park and decided to go to another area nearby and try again in the morning. They were staying in Chandrapur and I decided to go with them and stay there after checking out one very expensive, though not very nice, hotel in Moharli. We took off in their vehicle with a driver and their newly-wed friend. We did drive into a bit of the forest in the dusk and saw some sambar deer. On the way back to Chandrapur in the dark we spotted some of the spotted chital deer in our headlights. The hotel in Chandrapur was expensive, almost 1000 rupees, but was fairly decent.
I was up the next morning before 4:30 and we left at 5 for Moharli. Along the road outside of the city numerous people were defecating in the dark along the road. One of the Australians exclaimed in surprise, "They are all dumping!" A large proportion were women. I've been told, or read, that it is immodest for women to defecate in public during daylight hours, so perhaps that explains the large proportion of women. Last year I read that a higher proportion of households in India have telephones than have toilets of any kind.
We got to Moharli and the gate shortly after 5:30. Our entry was arranged and we entered about 6:30, with it getting light about 6. Tadoba is at about 600 feet elevation and it was chilly in the early morning. We heard a sambar warning call and waited, but without luck. The guide said there was a tigress with four cubs in the area. We drove north through the teak forest (there was also lots of bamboo, more than I've ever seen anywhere else) and spotted sambar and chital, but no tigers. The two Australians had to drive to Nagpur, three hours away, in time to catch a 1:30 flight, so we left the park about 8:15 so they could get back to Chandrapur by 9. We could have stayed until 10:30, so that was disappointing. On the other hand, it turned out that the safari was paid for by their friend, so I got it free, too, much to my surprise. Tadoba doesn't charge foreigners more than Indians, unlike the other tiger parks I've been to, but it still is somewhat expensive: 2700 rupees ($50) per safari in total, with the gypsy at 1500, the guide at 200 and entry at 1000.
I drove back to the hotel in Chandrapur with them and had breakfast at the hotel while deciding whether to try other safaris. Eventually, I decided against it, as I was told it was very unlikely I could share with others and that tiger spotting was much harder in December than in the hot months. I had such good luck last April in Kanha and Bandhavgarh that I was pretty well satisfied with tiger spottings.
I got to the railway station about noon and my train back to Warangal arrived about 45 minutes later. A digital temperature display at the station registered 35 degrees Celsius (95 Farenheit), but it didn't feel that warm. Most of the temperatures I've seen in the newspapers have shown highs in the upper 80's and lows around 60. The train was the return from Delhi of the same "Super Fast Express" I'd taken the day before. With just a general, unreserved ticket, you are not supposed to travel in the carriages with reserved seats, though it seems that people always do so, and generally people make way for them, sitting four or five to a bench supposedly for three. On the previous day's train the conductor had told me I should be in the general seating carriage and that I would have to pay extra. I gave him an uncomprehending look (which I've perfected, perhaps because it comes naturally) and he decided I wasn't worth the trouble, sighed and turned away.
The general seating carriages are at the beginning and end of each train, and as the train entered the station the general seating carriage at the front didn't look crowded, so I hurried forward to board it. Once I got there, I saw I was badly mistaken and it was packed. Nonetheless, I hopped aboard and jammed myself in, and others jammed in behind me as the train started up. A big guy saw me being pushed and motioned me forward and then pulled me and my pack towards him, motioning me to put my backpack on the rack above (where another guy used it as a pillow) while he squeezed me onto a spot on the bench with him and five others, a bench made for four people. They were a very friendly bunch and did their best to make me comfortable. The seats and aisles were jammed. The guy who had found me a seat gave me his card. His name was Md. (for Mohammed) Shakeel Khan of M.P. Repairing Works, "Holemaker Specialist in Marble and Granite, Demolition Work Undertaken, Hard Concrete Breaker."
Despite the cramped conditions, I enjoyed the trip with these friendly people, all men. One very talkative guy spoke pretty good English, offered me tea when a tea wallah came by, and when I declined said, "Please let me buy you tea." He bought tea for about eight of us. Feet dangled down from the guys sitting on the luggage racks and people could barely move through the aisles. Still, a singing, begging family of a mother and two children came through, as did two or three transvestites together who apparently demanded money from people, most of whom seemed to meekly hand it over to them. I'll have to remember to ask someone about that. The talkative English speaker sitting near me didn't explain it to me to my satisfaction. We arrived in Kazipet soon after 5, and soon after 6 I got a train to Warangal, less than ten miles away. I checked into the same nice hotel I'd stayed in before.
The next morning I had the hotel's complimentary breakfast, two idli (a sponging, rice bun) and a vada (a sort of mildly spicy donut), served with a coconut yogurt based sauce and a tomato based sauce. About 9 I headed to the old Warangal Fort area south of the city. Warangal was founded by the Hindu Kakatiya Kingdom in the late 12th century, and the Kakatiyas ruled the area until conquered by the Delhi Sultanate in 1323. At the center are the ruins of a temple, with four restored gates and a lot of interesting scattered sculpture. I roamed around there for a while and then walked to a nearby large hall built about 1500. Four roads radiate from the temple and I walked the one to the west and reached the intact inner wall of stone, 20 feet high, with an impressive gate. I walked further to the second line of earthen walls, but with another impressive stone gate. There is a third line of walls further out. People were friendly, surprised, I guess, to see a foreigner walking about. I took an autorickshaw back to the city center and came across a labor demonstration, with red flags bearing hammers and sickles, blocking an intersection. I was told by a fellow bystander that they were only going to do if for fifteen minutes.
About 2:30 in the afternoon I took an autorickshaw north to the Kakatiya "Thousand Pillar Temple" built in 1163. It seems about 990 pillars short. But it had some interesting sculpture and a massive Nandi (Shiva's vehicle, a bull) statue in front. People were very friendly and I was much photographed. I met an Indian couple from Cincinnati and an English couple from Yorkshire as I spent most of the afternoon there watching the goings on. Back at the hotel I climbed up a little more than a hundred feet to the temple under construction on top of the pile of boulders next to my hotel. There was a fairly good view over the city at sunset from the top.
The next morning I watched a woman as she made a rangoli, a design in chalk drawn each morning in front of doorways to deter evil spirits. I've seen a lot of these in Andhra Pradesh. Dick and Chris, the English couple I had met the day before, and I had decided to hire a car to visit the Ramappa Temple at Palampet, about 40 miles northeast of Warangal. We set off after 9 through flat terrain with hills in the distance. Rice was in abundance, as was cotton and palm trees. We passed many bullock carts, often laden with rice. We reached the 13th century temple about 11 and spent almost two hours there. The sculpture was particularly beautiful. The temple is made of a yellow sandstone, with some white streaks, but much of the sculpture is of a shiny black basalt. Many of the female figures, dancers and musicians, are much taller and thinner than other Indian sculpture. Some of them were placed as brackets, maybe six feet or more long, along the roof of the temple. They were quite striking. One had her sari being pulled off by a monkey. It was all quite interesting. Inside was more black basalt sculpture on the walls, pillars, roof and entrance to the inner sanctum. There were hundreds of figures. A Nandi lay in front of the temple, and another temple nearby had a Nandi in its center. A third temple was being pulled apart by heavy machinery, with the numbered pieces placed nearby, presumably for later reconstruction.
After the temple, we drove to nearby Ramappa Lake, a reservoir built by the Kakatiya. An old, very dilapidated temple is next to the lake and I explored inside, with many of the stones in a jumble. It gives you an idea of what the much larger Ramappa Temple was like before restoration. Nearby you could also see the sluice where water leaves the reservoir, presumably to irrigate farmland. We headed back towards Warangal and stopped where a bullock cart was being emptied of burlap sacks of rice, to be later picked up by trucks. We were taking photos when a journalist stopped by (his motorcycle said "Press") and took photos of us. He had me climb onto the bullock cart, where I took the reins and was given a stick to pretend I was driving the cart. He said it would be in the next day's newspaper. A bunch of local people gathered around and seemed quite amused with us. I looked for the photograph in the newspaper the next morning before I left Warangal, but didn't see it. Dick later emailed me that he got a copy and will scan and email it to me.
It took only about an hour to get to Moharli, a small village at the southern edge of Tadoba-Andhari National Park, a tiger reserve. I got off near the interesting village market. There were a lot of police around and I had seen a helicopter on the way into the village. I walked through the village looking for a place to stay and arrived at the gates of the park, where I noticed two other westerners. They were Australians who were visiting India for the wedding of an Indian friend from Chandrapur who now lives and works in Australia. They were hoping to enter the park that afternoon, but it turned out that the Chief Minister of Maharashtra was touring the park (hence the helicopter and police) and all others were forbidden entry till he left. We chatted and waited for the Chief Minister, as did the District Collector and other dignitaries, some with bouquets of flowers. I had asked about sharing a gypsy (a jeep-like vehicle) with them for touring the park and they agreed. Sometime after 5, with the Chief Minister nowhere to be seen, they gave up on being able to enter the park and decided to go to another area nearby and try again in the morning. They were staying in Chandrapur and I decided to go with them and stay there after checking out one very expensive, though not very nice, hotel in Moharli. We took off in their vehicle with a driver and their newly-wed friend. We did drive into a bit of the forest in the dusk and saw some sambar deer. On the way back to Chandrapur in the dark we spotted some of the spotted chital deer in our headlights. The hotel in Chandrapur was expensive, almost 1000 rupees, but was fairly decent.
I was up the next morning before 4:30 and we left at 5 for Moharli. Along the road outside of the city numerous people were defecating in the dark along the road. One of the Australians exclaimed in surprise, "They are all dumping!" A large proportion were women. I've been told, or read, that it is immodest for women to defecate in public during daylight hours, so perhaps that explains the large proportion of women. Last year I read that a higher proportion of households in India have telephones than have toilets of any kind.
We got to Moharli and the gate shortly after 5:30. Our entry was arranged and we entered about 6:30, with it getting light about 6. Tadoba is at about 600 feet elevation and it was chilly in the early morning. We heard a sambar warning call and waited, but without luck. The guide said there was a tigress with four cubs in the area. We drove north through the teak forest (there was also lots of bamboo, more than I've ever seen anywhere else) and spotted sambar and chital, but no tigers. The two Australians had to drive to Nagpur, three hours away, in time to catch a 1:30 flight, so we left the park about 8:15 so they could get back to Chandrapur by 9. We could have stayed until 10:30, so that was disappointing. On the other hand, it turned out that the safari was paid for by their friend, so I got it free, too, much to my surprise. Tadoba doesn't charge foreigners more than Indians, unlike the other tiger parks I've been to, but it still is somewhat expensive: 2700 rupees ($50) per safari in total, with the gypsy at 1500, the guide at 200 and entry at 1000.
I drove back to the hotel in Chandrapur with them and had breakfast at the hotel while deciding whether to try other safaris. Eventually, I decided against it, as I was told it was very unlikely I could share with others and that tiger spotting was much harder in December than in the hot months. I had such good luck last April in Kanha and Bandhavgarh that I was pretty well satisfied with tiger spottings.
I got to the railway station about noon and my train back to Warangal arrived about 45 minutes later. A digital temperature display at the station registered 35 degrees Celsius (95 Farenheit), but it didn't feel that warm. Most of the temperatures I've seen in the newspapers have shown highs in the upper 80's and lows around 60. The train was the return from Delhi of the same "Super Fast Express" I'd taken the day before. With just a general, unreserved ticket, you are not supposed to travel in the carriages with reserved seats, though it seems that people always do so, and generally people make way for them, sitting four or five to a bench supposedly for three. On the previous day's train the conductor had told me I should be in the general seating carriage and that I would have to pay extra. I gave him an uncomprehending look (which I've perfected, perhaps because it comes naturally) and he decided I wasn't worth the trouble, sighed and turned away.
The general seating carriages are at the beginning and end of each train, and as the train entered the station the general seating carriage at the front didn't look crowded, so I hurried forward to board it. Once I got there, I saw I was badly mistaken and it was packed. Nonetheless, I hopped aboard and jammed myself in, and others jammed in behind me as the train started up. A big guy saw me being pushed and motioned me forward and then pulled me and my pack towards him, motioning me to put my backpack on the rack above (where another guy used it as a pillow) while he squeezed me onto a spot on the bench with him and five others, a bench made for four people. They were a very friendly bunch and did their best to make me comfortable. The seats and aisles were jammed. The guy who had found me a seat gave me his card. His name was Md. (for Mohammed) Shakeel Khan of M.P. Repairing Works, "Holemaker Specialist in Marble and Granite, Demolition Work Undertaken, Hard Concrete Breaker."
Despite the cramped conditions, I enjoyed the trip with these friendly people, all men. One very talkative guy spoke pretty good English, offered me tea when a tea wallah came by, and when I declined said, "Please let me buy you tea." He bought tea for about eight of us. Feet dangled down from the guys sitting on the luggage racks and people could barely move through the aisles. Still, a singing, begging family of a mother and two children came through, as did two or three transvestites together who apparently demanded money from people, most of whom seemed to meekly hand it over to them. I'll have to remember to ask someone about that. The talkative English speaker sitting near me didn't explain it to me to my satisfaction. We arrived in Kazipet soon after 5, and soon after 6 I got a train to Warangal, less than ten miles away. I checked into the same nice hotel I'd stayed in before.
The next morning I had the hotel's complimentary breakfast, two idli (a sponging, rice bun) and a vada (a sort of mildly spicy donut), served with a coconut yogurt based sauce and a tomato based sauce. About 9 I headed to the old Warangal Fort area south of the city. Warangal was founded by the Hindu Kakatiya Kingdom in the late 12th century, and the Kakatiyas ruled the area until conquered by the Delhi Sultanate in 1323. At the center are the ruins of a temple, with four restored gates and a lot of interesting scattered sculpture. I roamed around there for a while and then walked to a nearby large hall built about 1500. Four roads radiate from the temple and I walked the one to the west and reached the intact inner wall of stone, 20 feet high, with an impressive gate. I walked further to the second line of earthen walls, but with another impressive stone gate. There is a third line of walls further out. People were friendly, surprised, I guess, to see a foreigner walking about. I took an autorickshaw back to the city center and came across a labor demonstration, with red flags bearing hammers and sickles, blocking an intersection. I was told by a fellow bystander that they were only going to do if for fifteen minutes.
About 2:30 in the afternoon I took an autorickshaw north to the Kakatiya "Thousand Pillar Temple" built in 1163. It seems about 990 pillars short. But it had some interesting sculpture and a massive Nandi (Shiva's vehicle, a bull) statue in front. People were very friendly and I was much photographed. I met an Indian couple from Cincinnati and an English couple from Yorkshire as I spent most of the afternoon there watching the goings on. Back at the hotel I climbed up a little more than a hundred feet to the temple under construction on top of the pile of boulders next to my hotel. There was a fairly good view over the city at sunset from the top.
The next morning I watched a woman as she made a rangoli, a design in chalk drawn each morning in front of doorways to deter evil spirits. I've seen a lot of these in Andhra Pradesh. Dick and Chris, the English couple I had met the day before, and I had decided to hire a car to visit the Ramappa Temple at Palampet, about 40 miles northeast of Warangal. We set off after 9 through flat terrain with hills in the distance. Rice was in abundance, as was cotton and palm trees. We passed many bullock carts, often laden with rice. We reached the 13th century temple about 11 and spent almost two hours there. The sculpture was particularly beautiful. The temple is made of a yellow sandstone, with some white streaks, but much of the sculpture is of a shiny black basalt. Many of the female figures, dancers and musicians, are much taller and thinner than other Indian sculpture. Some of them were placed as brackets, maybe six feet or more long, along the roof of the temple. They were quite striking. One had her sari being pulled off by a monkey. It was all quite interesting. Inside was more black basalt sculpture on the walls, pillars, roof and entrance to the inner sanctum. There were hundreds of figures. A Nandi lay in front of the temple, and another temple nearby had a Nandi in its center. A third temple was being pulled apart by heavy machinery, with the numbered pieces placed nearby, presumably for later reconstruction.
After the temple, we drove to nearby Ramappa Lake, a reservoir built by the Kakatiya. An old, very dilapidated temple is next to the lake and I explored inside, with many of the stones in a jumble. It gives you an idea of what the much larger Ramappa Temple was like before restoration. Nearby you could also see the sluice where water leaves the reservoir, presumably to irrigate farmland. We headed back towards Warangal and stopped where a bullock cart was being emptied of burlap sacks of rice, to be later picked up by trucks. We were taking photos when a journalist stopped by (his motorcycle said "Press") and took photos of us. He had me climb onto the bullock cart, where I took the reins and was given a stick to pretend I was driving the cart. He said it would be in the next day's newspaper. A bunch of local people gathered around and seemed quite amused with us. I looked for the photograph in the newspaper the next morning before I left Warangal, but didn't see it. Dick later emailed me that he got a copy and will scan and email it to me.
No comments:
Post a Comment