I left Bidar about 11 on the morning of the 30th on a bus heading southwest first to a bridge too feeble after monsoon damage to support buses and then, after walking across the bridge, on another bus to Gulbarga, arriving about 1:30. We passed lots of sugar cane leaving Bidar, and another sugar factory with trucks and ox carts all lined up full of sugar cane. Generally, there wasn't much agriculture on the way, mainly rolling countryside covered with yellow grass and lots of trees. Gulbarga, now an ugly modern town, is at about 1700 feet elevation, I think. It was the first capital of the Bahmani Kingdom, established in 1347 by a Persian general who had served under the Delhi Sultan Mohammed bin Tughluq (the sultan who in the early 14th century briefly moved his capital from Delhi to Daulatabad, near Aurangabad, to be better positioned to conquer the south of India, along with the entire population of Delhi, with thousands dying on the long trek). The Bahmanis moved their capital to Bidar, with a more defensible fortress, in 1424.
I got a hotel and then took an auto rickshaw to the fort with a friendly guy from the hotel who wanted to go with me and apparently was doubtful I could handle it by myself. Gulbarga's fort, in the middle of the modern city, has impressive walls and a smelly, vegetation and garbage filled moat, but is not on a hill and so not as formidable as that of Bidar. It is roughly circular and about 800 feet in diameter (so much smaller than Bidar's). I entered the east gate with the formidable, several story Bala Hissar, a roundish structure just inside the gate, and the Jama Masjid nearby. This mosque is quite large, about 600 feet by 500 feet, and has something like 75 domes, similar to the great mosque in Cordoba, Spain. It is rather austere, though. Otherwise, the fort was mostly empty of old structures, although there was a fairly poor looking white washed village inside along the north and west walls. There were a few Muslims visiting the fort, but not many. India and Pakistan were playing cricket on television that day, and I suppose most of the city was watching. I went into the mosque and climbed to the top of the Bala Hissar, with three huge cannons on top. There didn't seem to be any entry into the Bala Hissar.
We left through the gate we had entered and walked along the eastern and southern walls and then took an auto rickshaw to the Dargah, the white washed tomb complex of a Muslim saint who is said to have lived from 1320 to 1422 and been a spiritual adviser to the Bahmanis. There were lots of pilgrims there and the two story tomb had little pieces of glass all over the inside. His tomb was covered with flowers with a thick cluster of men all around. It lies inside a silver enclosure, with a fabric canopy above. Men were touching emblems on the silver enclosure. Women are not allowed inside, but position themselves at the doorway.
There are two other domed tombs, progressively smaller, those of his son and grandson, plus all sorts of graves all over the compound. The son's tomb was beautifully painted inside, and much less crowded. There are several other buildings in the compound, including a madrassa, and a library with a nice courtyard. The people were friendly and it was a pleasant place to loiter. Lots of families were sitting here and there. I was the only westerner there. We got back to the hotel about 5:30.
The next morning for breakfast I had idli and something new, two clumps of rice, one sweet and one savory and both good. About 10 I left on a bus headed to Raichur, something more than a hundred miles to the south. The trip took about five and a half hours through more agricultural country than further north, with a lot of cotton and some corn and already harvested rice fields. A fertilizer salesman sat next to me and said that rice sowing would begin in about 15 days. The sky was overcast, though with more sun later in the day. We crossed the Krishna River, with water very low after a poor monsoon this past year. The road was very bad in places. I could see Raichur's rocky citadel as we approached. Raichur, at about 1500 feet elevation, was the initial stronghold of what became the Sultanate of Bijapur when it broke away from the Bahmanis in 1490 and was often a point of contention between the Muslim sultanates to the north and the Hindu Vijayanagar Empire to the south. The bus station was right inside the city walls and below the citadel and I got a good hotel nearby, after inquiring at three that were full.
I walked up to the rocky citadel in the late afternoon before dark, though it took me some time to find the right path. My first approach was past mosques and a graveyard with an ongoing funeral. Finally, I found the correct pathway on the east side and made the almost 300 foot climb, first past a neighborhood of little houses with curious people. Not too many tourists make it to Raichur. Only one of my three guidebooks mentions it, with maybe a half page of information. Some friendly men and boys followed me up past big boulders and through a stone gateway. On the top is a three arched prayer hall and a very small mosque, the smallest I've ever seen, a little bigger than a closet. The whole of the top area is small, with another very long cannon up there. The views were great, with the city all around, mosques to the north, a lake and more rocky hills to the south. The sun set over hills to the west. After sunset a guy led me down a steeper route to where his motorcycle was parked, and then gave me a lift to my hotel. That was New Year's Eve, and my hotel restaurant was closing so the employees could celebrate. I was, however, able to get a chicken biryani wrapped in plastic and newspaper to take up to my room for dinner. I didn't stay up to midnight, though I did hear a very few firecrackers.
I got a hotel and then took an auto rickshaw to the fort with a friendly guy from the hotel who wanted to go with me and apparently was doubtful I could handle it by myself. Gulbarga's fort, in the middle of the modern city, has impressive walls and a smelly, vegetation and garbage filled moat, but is not on a hill and so not as formidable as that of Bidar. It is roughly circular and about 800 feet in diameter (so much smaller than Bidar's). I entered the east gate with the formidable, several story Bala Hissar, a roundish structure just inside the gate, and the Jama Masjid nearby. This mosque is quite large, about 600 feet by 500 feet, and has something like 75 domes, similar to the great mosque in Cordoba, Spain. It is rather austere, though. Otherwise, the fort was mostly empty of old structures, although there was a fairly poor looking white washed village inside along the north and west walls. There were a few Muslims visiting the fort, but not many. India and Pakistan were playing cricket on television that day, and I suppose most of the city was watching. I went into the mosque and climbed to the top of the Bala Hissar, with three huge cannons on top. There didn't seem to be any entry into the Bala Hissar.
We left through the gate we had entered and walked along the eastern and southern walls and then took an auto rickshaw to the Dargah, the white washed tomb complex of a Muslim saint who is said to have lived from 1320 to 1422 and been a spiritual adviser to the Bahmanis. There were lots of pilgrims there and the two story tomb had little pieces of glass all over the inside. His tomb was covered with flowers with a thick cluster of men all around. It lies inside a silver enclosure, with a fabric canopy above. Men were touching emblems on the silver enclosure. Women are not allowed inside, but position themselves at the doorway.
There are two other domed tombs, progressively smaller, those of his son and grandson, plus all sorts of graves all over the compound. The son's tomb was beautifully painted inside, and much less crowded. There are several other buildings in the compound, including a madrassa, and a library with a nice courtyard. The people were friendly and it was a pleasant place to loiter. Lots of families were sitting here and there. I was the only westerner there. We got back to the hotel about 5:30.
The next morning for breakfast I had idli and something new, two clumps of rice, one sweet and one savory and both good. About 10 I left on a bus headed to Raichur, something more than a hundred miles to the south. The trip took about five and a half hours through more agricultural country than further north, with a lot of cotton and some corn and already harvested rice fields. A fertilizer salesman sat next to me and said that rice sowing would begin in about 15 days. The sky was overcast, though with more sun later in the day. We crossed the Krishna River, with water very low after a poor monsoon this past year. The road was very bad in places. I could see Raichur's rocky citadel as we approached. Raichur, at about 1500 feet elevation, was the initial stronghold of what became the Sultanate of Bijapur when it broke away from the Bahmanis in 1490 and was often a point of contention between the Muslim sultanates to the north and the Hindu Vijayanagar Empire to the south. The bus station was right inside the city walls and below the citadel and I got a good hotel nearby, after inquiring at three that were full.
I walked up to the rocky citadel in the late afternoon before dark, though it took me some time to find the right path. My first approach was past mosques and a graveyard with an ongoing funeral. Finally, I found the correct pathway on the east side and made the almost 300 foot climb, first past a neighborhood of little houses with curious people. Not too many tourists make it to Raichur. Only one of my three guidebooks mentions it, with maybe a half page of information. Some friendly men and boys followed me up past big boulders and through a stone gateway. On the top is a three arched prayer hall and a very small mosque, the smallest I've ever seen, a little bigger than a closet. The whole of the top area is small, with another very long cannon up there. The views were great, with the city all around, mosques to the north, a lake and more rocky hills to the south. The sun set over hills to the west. After sunset a guy led me down a steeper route to where his motorcycle was parked, and then gave me a lift to my hotel. That was New Year's Eve, and my hotel restaurant was closing so the employees could celebrate. I was, however, able to get a chicken biryani wrapped in plastic and newspaper to take up to my room for dinner. I didn't stay up to midnight, though I did hear a very few firecrackers.
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