The morning weather was beautiful. We got up and slowly set about getting ready for check out. There was no rush to make our appointed rendezvous with Saresh at the front entry. He showed up 15 minutes late, which is basically on par, and off we went. Back across the breadth of Lonavala and off to the East to check out the nearby Karla Caves.
The previous day, Saresh had been trying to talk us into going to the caves instead of waiting. I hadn't been able to decipher his reasoning. We were tired and a little footsore at the time, so it seemed logical to wait and tackle it on Sunday before we headed back to Mumbai.
On the expressway we got a good taste of the fallout from the standing chaos of Indian roadways. To wit, Saresh had to slam on the brakes when a tour bus ahead decided that they'd just go ahead and stop across two lanes of traffic instead of finishing the turn that they had started into a hotel turnout. So he he hit the brakes hard. The car behind attempted to do so as well. They did not succeed. Instead, I felt the solid yank of the chassis as we got rear-ended. Cool cool cool.
So there we sat, almost on the shoulder of the road. Indians don't really pull off in such a circumstance, they just kind of.... don't. Our driver got into an exceedingly heated discussion with the rearender. I quietly undid my seatbelt with some vague notion that maybe adding Grumpy White Dude to the equation might act as a stabilizer. However, after a bit the air cleared and we eventually went on our way. True, the bumper was now hanging off a bit and kicking up some extra road noise. Oh well.
Not that much further down the road we got to our turn to the caves. However, it wasn't just our turn. There were hundreds of cars and thousands of people on foot moving along the same byway. Oops - maybe that was the impetus was for going the day previous. I eventually figured out that during the rains, there are a series of festivities that take place at and near the caves. It became so dense that Saresh just eventually parked off to one side and pointed us in the direction of the caves. A little extra walk, no biggie.
Hoo boy. So we started the trudge. It was muddy and crowded; periodically there were small groups of people banging drums and singing and dancing about. We worked out way down, and after a kilometer or two found the actual access road up to Karla Caves. Little did we know that we'd accomplished about 10% of the trek.
So we climbed that access road. This was about 3 km, with pretty decent vertical component. That got us to the Staircase. The road up to the Staircase had been a little packed with cars and foot traffic and tuk-tuks. These little beauties are kind of omnipresent in India; the only times you won't see one is when you desperately need a ride. Anyhow, the route thus far had done almost nothing to prepare us for the rest of the hike up.
The Staircase was a steep, slippery, loud, and powerfully scented tent bazaar that ascended the last kilometer to the Caves. As is customary, the vendor stalls are crammed shoulder to shoulder all the way up. The wares in the stalls are piled in so densely that the seller stands outside, in the way of foot traffic, taking up space and basically impeding progress and being a jackass. The air was thick with the humidity generated by thousands of soggy people exerting themselves to climb thousands of grimy stairs. It was also thick with teeming smoke from incense burning everywhere. It was a jostling, sweaty, and somewhat unpleasant climb. As we approached the top, we could hear the drums again.
We finally broke free of the Staircase into an open natural courtyard at the brow of the great ridge. Except that Sunday the courtyard was anything but open. There were thousands or tens of thousands of people banging on drums, shouting, and dancing. Without meaning to, we'd shown up at a key location during a festival that I can't even name. We couldn't quite figure out what it was, but it was something! The flood of humanity swept us in, but before we'd gone too far a perceptive guard pulled us back.
Noticing that we were not local festival goers, the gentleman assumed that we'd want to actually access the caves. It seems everyone else was just there to party in the general vicinity; he guided us through the throng back to the ticket counter where I paid gora prices for two tickets. He then drug us back through the masses to the ticketed entry point to the main cave itself. There was a solid wall of humanity that he pushed, wheedled, bullied, and cajoled aside to get us to the gate. The noise was incredible. We gave our tickets to the gate men and were pulled through while they slammed the gates behind us with alacrity to keep out all the unticketed locals who figured they'd just go ahead and pour in behind us.
On the other side of the gate, the world shifted. There was still the cacophonous chaos outside, but the press of the crowd disappeared. The massive stonework of Karla Caves stood forbiddingly scowling down at us. The ceiling at the entry chamber soared 15 meters, punctuated by little beehives clinging up at the top. The entirety of the space was filled with relief carvings large and small. Stalwart men and scandalously curvaceous women, gods and godlings, and every animal of the subcontinent. They were truly breathtaking.
As with the Bhaja Caves, the main chaitya and stupa of the place were by far the most impressive aspects. Karla Cave almost made Bhaja look like a practice run to make something truly incredible. There were relatively few people inside, and we all wandered the area in a quiet awe that formed a stark contrast to the revelry out front. The scale and spirit of the place put me in mind of the medieval cathedrals of Spain.
We were asked a few more times for some pictures with people that probably don't run into Americans as a general rule of life. It's kind of fun to get movie star treatment, even if it is for no reason of one's own making!
After we got in a good bit of walking around with our eyes bugging out, we decided that we'd better undertake the hours-long ordeal of getting the hell out of there before things really got crazy. There was no shadow of a doubt that the afternoon would see a multiplier of revelers, and therefore a multiplier of the overall craziness. We stepped from the sacred space, strapped our Chaco's back on, and took a deep breath. Then we stepped back out into the crowd.
The hike down was only easier than the hike up in that it was downhill. The crowd was swelling by the minute, and it took us a couple of hours to reach Saresh and the van. It was not an overly pleasant walk, but it was not an overly unpleasant walk, either.
All in all, a very eventful day sprung out of what was supposed to be a mellow little sightseeing tour. It was time to head back to the city.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Lonavala, Part 3
The morning weather was beautiful. We got up and slowly set about getting ready for check out. There was no rush to make our appointed rende...
-
The morning weather was beautiful. We got up and slowly set about getting ready for check out. There was no rush to make our appointed rende...
-
When we left North Dakota, spring was just getting genuinely under way. Day time highs of 55F/13C, nightly lows around 32F/0C. A crisp and ...
-
The Indian Hospital Experience While Kelly and I were chilling in staff housing in Mumbai, I eventually committed the cardinal digesti...
No comments:
Post a Comment