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Published: January 22nd 2008
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Jalgaon
Happy to be leaving Mumbai for the last time we navigated our way from the hotel to the train station (all of about 200m) quickly, on a mission, as it was 11.00pm and not particularly pleasant. Thinking ourselves savvy now to the beast that is Victoria Terminus and its inner workings we swiftly ascertained which platform we’d be leaving from and made our way there. Of course once we got there we were informed that there was a change and we were on the incorrect platform so we were then forced to push our way across the tidal influx of passengers departing to make it to the correct platform.
Minor difficulty seemingly, but the crowds are frightening. Those who cannot afford a/c class (nearly everyone) push and fight their way onto the carriages - there is no turn taking, its survival of the fittest.
Soon we were off and eight hours later arrived in Jalgaon, another smelly, grotty city, in order to visit the Ajanta Caves. Following the guide book’s advice, we walked the 150m up the road and arrived at the delightful Hotel Plaza. His hotel was described as the ‘cleanest hotel in Maharashtra’ and it certainly lived up
to its reputation as well as being not only clean, but also very stylish. We had a lovely stay there and the manager was very helpful.
Ajanta Caves
It takes about an hour and a half to reach the caves from Jalgaon by public transport. Once there you go through a series of admission costs and fees and also the necessary tout storm. There are so many wonderful souveneirs up for grabs: foil hats, carvings, mock ivory and gemstones, postcards, ‘genuine plastic’ chairs, DVDs, etc.
We had yet another omelette, chappati and chai and headed up the carved steps to the cave site and paid another fee before entering.
There are about 30 caves in all, many predating Christ - enormous halls carved out of the face of a serene gorge. Many of the caves feature huge statues of Buddha or other objects of worship, incredible fresco-like paintings painted with natural temperas created from plants, ochres and lapis lazuli that tell of the life of Buddha, smaller rooms further in and some with staircases taking you higher up the gorge into new halls with balconies looking out across the gorge. It was awe-inspiring. Casey had a wonderful time exploring
the caves, delving into nooks and crannies, racing ahead up stairways to see what he could find. Hordes of school children on excursions from all over India cheered to see tourists and demanded photos. Casey and I escaped often, James joined in. The paparazzi pressure is too much for Casey so I tend to whisk him away wherever possible. A naughty pack of monkeys sat atop the caves, peering down at the crowds, ready to pounce on anyone who dared to bring out their picnic. We found a quiet shady spot out of view and snacked on our samosa.
By twelve we had spent three hours at the caves and the heat outside was becoming oppressive so we battled our way back through the sea of touts and monkeys, had a Thums Up and a Limca (lemonade that proudly ‘contains no fruit’) and rushed back to the road to catch the next public bus back to Jalgaon.
Public Transport
Wait at the bus stand. When the bus arrives don’t line up, just push your way on. It’s the quick or the dead. Find yourself a seat, 4 to a bench, and you’re off, bumping along at break neck speeds,
overtaking goods carriers and bullock carts, whilst everyone sits staring at you and you’re every move. What does that ‘gora’ have in her bag? Look, the ‘gora’ is reading! At each big stop, wallahs jump aboard pressuring everyone to buy bananas, samosa, chai. We have some chai, the glasses of sweet, milky tea are brought aboard for us, we drink then hand back the empties and we’re off again. Along the way, an old Rajasthani man ambles on. He is wearing white pyjamas, a huge bright saffron orange turban and pointy jeweled slippers, holds a staff and his moustache is curled flamboyantly upwards. He sits opposite and much head wobbling ensues between us, then smiles, then a stylish upward flick of the wrist poses the question. “Australia” we answer. More wobbling. From somewhere in the depths of those white pyjamas he miraculously conjers a handful of nuts and little nutcracker, begins to eat and offers some to us. We politely decline.
Buying clothes in Jalgaon
In Jalgaon we happened upon a nice looking fashion house and we were quickly hustled downstairs to look at some ‘salwar kameez’ - kurta style top over pyjama style pants finished with a ‘dupatta’,
which is a long scarf. The shopkeepers were very excited and within minutes had removed about 20 different combinations out of their plastic sleeves for me to peruse. We had to emphatically ask them to stop, feeling terrible that they would have to fold and put them all away again. I selected four and tried them on. All too big - no problem, we can alter. How long will that take? I asked worried that we’d be leaving the next day. No problem, only ½ an hour! Done! So I now have a lovely salwar kameez in turquoise and gold for a few hundred rupees!
Although as filthy and noisy as most Indian towns, Jalgaon turned out to be quite a nice couple of days. The caves were remarkable and we were glad to have made the effort to see them. We enjoyed some lovely 'pure veg' meals and were forcibly introduced to some new treats by enthusiastic restauranteurs, whislt rejoicing in the clean and spacious lodgings at Hotel Plaza.
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raju121
raju
Ajanta
W O W Such nice informative and Picturous blog thank you for sharing. raju :)