Travelling Around Britain and the World

Sunday, 3 March 2019

Salt and Wild Asses in the Little Rann of Kutch: Gujarat Part 5

Gujarat: The What, Where, When and Who


India
Gujarat

This post covers day 5 of a 14-day journey around Gujarat, following our circuit of Rajasthan last year. Smaller than Rajasthan, Gujarat is about the size of the Island of Great Britain and has much the same population.

5,000 years ago, Gujarat was a centre of the Indus Valley civilization and subsequently played its part in most of the major north Indian empires. When Islamic invaders reached northern India in the 9th century Gujarat held out until 1300 when it became part of the Delhi Sultanate.

Today we were based at Bajana. The Little Rann of Kutch is the small desert area largely in the south east corner of the huge district and former princely state of Kutch. We will visit the Great Rann of Kutch later

An independent Muslim sultan seized power in 1391and Gujarat maintained its independence until becoming part of the Mughal Empire in the 16th century and later the British Empire, though local rulers of a patchwork of Princely States retained considerable autonomy. At independence in 1947 Gujarat became part of the State of Bombay, becoming a state in its own right in 1960.

With a long coast line facing the Arabian sea, Gujaratis have been seafarers and international traders for millennia.

Gujarat is the home state of both Mahatma Gandhi and the current Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi.

-o0o0o-

Salt Works and Wildlife

Visiting a Salt Factory

Bajana

L had a day off today, as after breakfast we set out with Vijay not in L's comfortable Toyota Inova but in a jeep with a different driver. We headed back into Bajana but soon came to a halt at a level crossing. As usual in India the queue used both sides of the road – on both sides of the crossing. It makes for an interesting few minutes when the barriers go up.

One way to queue at a level crossing

Bajana was a slightly larger village than we took it for yesterday but, temples apart, still looked scruffy and down-at-heel.

Bajana

Yesterday we had traversed the village northeast to southwest; today we turned northwest, past a line of mostly shuttered shops and workshops and out into the flat scrubland beyond.

Bajana

Leaving the road, we passed a herd of cattle but the further we went the flatter and more desolate the land became. We were on the edge of the Little Rann of Kutch, Kutch being by far the largest district of Gujarat (see map at top) and Rann meaning salt desert. The map also shows that Bajana is not quite in the Kutch district, but deserts do not always respect human boundaries. Later we will visit the Great Rann of Kutch, and that extends beyond Kutch into Pakistan.

Cattle on the move, Bajana

We did not have to go far into the Rann to find the salt factory. All the ground water here is saline and salt pans can be found across the desert. The unrefined salt is brought here and enters the factory on a conveyor belt. The woman sitting on the pile of sacks with a stick in her hand gives a tap to any of the larger lumps. I am not sure how important this is, but I do know that loose clothing and rotating machinery are considered a bad combination in the health and safety world. We were soon to see worse.

The salt arrives to be tappe with a stick, Bajana

The salt undergoes some processing and disappears…

Salt processing, Bajana

…to reappear trickling in tiny cascades from a smaller conveyor belt in the packing shed.

The salt reappears in the packing shed, Bajana

Here, workers who from a distance resembled the least enthusiastic of Santa’s elves, packed kilo bags by hand. The bags were checked for weight by the girl on the left before being heat-sealed by her companion, who appeared to have become overwhelmed by the excitement of it all. If she is thinking ‘I wish I had been able to stay on at school, then maybe I could be doing something more satisfying than this,’ she has my sympathy.

Enthusiastic weighers and sealers, Bajana

From here the little bags are packed into bigger bags which are transported to the kitchens and dinner tables of India.

Salt ready for shipment, Bajana

A very brief jeep ride took us to an area where non-culinary salt was being loaded onto a lorry. It is used in the manufacture of cleaning products, and no doubt much else though in Gujarat there is no need to throw it on the roads during winter.

A digger loaded the salt into a hopper from which it dropped onto a conveyor belt and was fed it into hand-held plastic sacks. A man stood in the hopper to force any reluctant lumps down onto the belt – a health and safety nightmare.

Salt is about to be dropped into the hopper, Bajana

The sacks were sewn closed by a man with a portable sewing machine.

The sacks of salt are sewn closed, Bajana

This process sews all the bags together so the sewer is followed round by a man with a knife to snip them apart. They are then slung onto the lorry using hand-held hooks, which damaged the plastic sacks not at all (much).

And then the sacks are snipped apart, Bajana

Taking leave of the loaders and their pyramids of salt…

Leaving the pyramids of unrefined salt, Bajana

…we headed back to the road and on to the small town of Patdi, 8km north of Bajana.

Patdi, Gujarat

Patdi market was in full swing…

Patdi Market

…we walked through it, unable to buy anything (what would we do with a cauliflower or ½ a kilo of onions?) but wondering, as we sometimes do, about the logistics of a self-catering holiday in India.

Patdi Market

There are always flowers in Indian markets, garlands are not just for putting round the necks of tourists; even where poorer people shop there is always at least one stall selling garlands.

Garland stall, Patdi market

We halted by a man sitting on the step of his shop sorting through pictures of gods. Our daughter had asked for a selection of such pictures, so we had a look through with him. He was a frame-maker, but frames and suitcases do not mix so we asked for them unframed. They are clearly professionally produced, but his asking price was 5 rupees each (about 6p). At that price we did not haggle, but still felt as if we were robbing him.

One of the 5 rupee picture.
I guess it is Shiva, in one of his guises, as he has a Shiva Lingam in front of him, but I might be wrong

Back to Bajana

We drove the short distance back to Bajana, passing a local transport on the way. I can count 15 people crammed onto the frame of a tuk-tuk, I think there might be more inside.

Local transport, Patdi to Bajana

Back in Bajana we dived into the backstreets, which were even scruffier than the main road.

Backstreets of Bajana

We had come to visit a sari weaver, but the weaver was out, the loom left with a sari still in its early stages. Enquiring among neighbours drew a blank, so we moved on. We were not that sorry as everywhere we go we are shown weavers and politely feign interest, so we were relieved not have to bother.

Thre is a loom and a started sari, but where is the weaver? Bajana

Lunch at the 'Royal Safari'

Back at the resort we had a little relaxation time before lunch which we spent haggling with two lads who had set up stalls in the courtyard. They had approached us every time we walked past and we had brushed them off with ‘later’ but now ‘later’ had arrived. There was nothing much we wanted, their asking prices seemed high and they were difficult to beat down much, but eventually we settled for some bracelets from one – and then fairness demanded we buy from the other.

Lunch was a better than average buffet, and then we had a little more downtime during the heat of the day – which at this time of year was mild, by Gujarati if not British standards.

Wild Ass Hunt in the Little Rann of Kutch

Back in the jeep we returned to Bajana then went off-road, bumping across the Little Rann of Kutch.

It is a truly desolate place, a salty, brown mudflat stretching as far as the eye can see relieved only by brackish lagoons and the occasional outbreak of scrubby vegetation.

The scenic Little Rann of Kutch

We had ventured into this monochrome landscape in search of the Indian Wild Ass. There are three species of Ass: the African Wild Ass, from which the domestic donkey is descended, the Kiang (Tibetan Wild Ass) and the Onager or Asian Wild Ass (equus hemionus. The Indian Wild Ass (equus hemionus khur) is one of the four surviving subspecies of onager - a fifth the Syrian Wild Ass went extinct in 1927.

Once Wild Asses roamed throughout the arid lands of western India, southern Pakistan and Iran, but steadily their range diminished until only the Little Rann of Kutch was left. In 1958-62 an outbreak of surra, a disease spread by horse-flies, reduced the population to 870. In 1972 a 5,000km² Wild Ass Sanctuary was created, their numbers are now around 4,900 and their range is beginning to expand beyond the Little Rann of Kutch.

Despite the increased population we spent some time driving hither and yon without catching sight of an ass, so we stopped to look at some flamingos.

I walked slowly and steadily towards the lake shore, my camera raised and ready. At some stage I knew they would all take off together, a sight I have seen once before at the Salgado Bird Sanctuary in Portugal, their sideways rise a magnificent display of huge, flapping pink wings with dark chevrons on the edges.

Flamingos, little Rann of Kutch

And that was exactly what happened, and at the same instant my camera bleeped and the lens retracted – an extraordinarily ill-timed energy saving manoeuvre. The flamingos gave a bravura performance, please take my word for it, but in the second it took to switch back on they were in level flight and the moment had gone.

Flamingos in flight , Little Rann of Kutch

Disappointed we returned to the jeep and continued our fruitless donkey hunt. There is no systematic way to search a featureless plain for a mobile quarry, you just have to keep driving round with your eyes on the horizon.

We did see some blackbuck…

Blackbuck, Little Rann of Kutch

…and some nilgai, but they are easy to find all over Gujarat and Rajasthan.

Nilgai, Little Rann of Kutch

I was impressed when the driver (or perhaps Vijay) spotted an owl lurking beneath a bush. I have forgotten their identification, but a wise man (Stuart) tells me it is a long-eared owl. Maps on the ever-reliable Wikipedia suggest we were south of the long-eared's range, but in the right place for a short-eared owl, and no ear tufts are visible – but I am not brave enough to contradict Stuart on a bird identification.

Indeterminate-eared owl, Little Rann of Kutch

We were beginning to think the asses, like the tigers of Ranthambhore and Nagarhole – were studiously avoiding us. Then the driver saw something sandy coloured moving across the sandy coloured horizon. He depressed the accelerator and headed straight for it, bumping us over ground which was much less even than it looked.

He had not just found a wild ass, he had found a group of them, 17 in all, grazing on the sparse vegetation – or they were until we disturbed them.

Indian wild asses, Little Rann of Kutch

The scrub, drought resistant and salt impregnated is hardly appetising, but these animals looked in fine condition, so it must suit them. They did not apparently regard humans as a threat; I walked slowly forward and although they kept their distance there was no nervousness. They were handsome creatures, much bigger than the domestic donkey, the size of a pony or maybe bigger.

Indian Wild Ass, Little Rann of Kutch

We stood and watched for a while and took many photos. When we moved on, nature seemed to have come over to our side and instead of a scruffy owl crouching under a bush we saw an imperial eagle watching the world from the top of a tree…

Imperial Eagle, Little Rann of Kutch

…and then a flamingo posing in perfect profile.

Flamingo, Little Rann of Kutch

Salt Farming in the Little Rann of Kutch

25% of India’s salt comes from this area, and illegal salt panning is the major threat to the continued growth of the wild ass population. Salt pans abound (and we have no way of telling legal from illegal), the land being so flat an embankment of 30cm is sufficient to create a sizeable shallow lagoon

Salt pan, Little Rann of Kutch

The salt farmer waded over to say hello, bending to scoop up a handful of large, uneven salt crystals from below the water. Placing a crystal on the tongue for a few seconds shows this is pure salt.

Salt farmer, Little Rann of Kutch

Vijay worked his usual magic and a few minutes later the salt farmer had invited us home for a cup of tea.

Walking to the salt farmer's home, Little Rann of Kutch

He lived with his wife a couple of hundred metres away in a tent of heavy sacking draped over a ramshackle frame. We sat on their charpoys while Mrs Salt-farmer collected what she needed from her outdoor ‘kitchen cupboard’. I only noticed the large solar panel in the background later, when checking my pictures, so we never asked what they use it for – zooming in shows it was unplugged while we were there.

The salt farmer's home, Little Rann of Kutch

While the kettle boiled the salt-farmer went to check on his pump, and our driver had a chat with him. Water evaporates continually from the lagoon, precipitating out the salt crystals and I presume it is refilled by salty groundwater, pumped up here and channelled to the lagoon.

Salt farmer and his pump, Little Rann of Kutch

We drank our tea and chatted to our host. He lives out here in the dry season and is paid a modest sum for each kilo of salt delivered to the factory. During the monsoon, when the whole desert becomes a shallow lake, they retreat to the town. The tent had two rooms, a kitchen at one end and a living space at the other, but life is mainly conducted outdoors – though later in the year shelter from the midday sun becomes important.

As we talked his wife was busy making pearl millet bread, a staple part of the local diet.

Making peral millet bread, Little Rann of Kutch

They have children, he told us, but they live with relatives in town (Patdi, I think) and attend school.

When the bread was ready it was brought out and we were offered the first taste. Regardless of the cereal the crust of warm, fresh bread is always delicious.

Fresh pearl millet bread - I know it is not my best picture, sorry

We took our leave of the friendly salt farmer and bumped back across the desert.

‘Hyena,’ our driver said a note of excitement in his voice. Unfortunately, the animal disappeared into a thicket before anyone else saw it. He stopped the jeep and we walked slowly over to the thicket.

No hyenas here!

Fifteen minutes later we were still there, still staring and still watching absolutely nothing happen. As the light started to fade, we looked at each other, shrugged and left.

The day may have ended with a minor failure, but overall it could hardly have been better. We had seen the salt factory and found the wild assess, which was all our itinerary had promised, but we had also been privileged to catch a glimpse of the lives of the desert’s human inhabitants. They live hard, simple lives in a landscape as desolate as any we have ever seen yet retain their humanity and a welcoming generosity of spirit.


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Location: Little Rann of Kutch, Gujarat

Saturday, 2 March 2019

Siddhpur, Patan and Modhera: Gujarat Part 4

Gujarat: The What, Where, When and Who


India
Gujarat

This post covers day 4 of a 14-day journey around Gujarat, following our circuit of Rajasthan last year. Smaller than Rajasthan, Gujarat is about the size of the Island of Great Britain and has much the same population.

5,000 years ago, Gujarat was a centre of the Indus Valley civilization and subsequently played its part in most of the major north Indian empires. When Islamic invaders reached northern India in the 9th century Gujarat held out until 1300 when it became part of the Delhi Sultanate.

After rearranging our schedule, today we visited Siddhpr, Patan and Modhera before heading south to Bajana.

An independent Muslim sultan seized power in 1391and Gujarat maintained its independence until becoming part of the Mughal Empire in the 16th century and later the British Empire, though local rulers of a patchwork of Princely States retained considerable autonomy. At independence in 1947 Gujarat became part of the State of Bombay, becoming a state in its own right in 1960.

With a long coast line facing the Arabian sea, Gujaratis have been seafarers and international traders for millennia.

Gujarat is the home state of both Mahatma Gandhi and the current Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi.

-o0o0o-

The Dawoodi Bohra, a Spectacular Step Well and an Ancient Temple

The three towns featured in this post may not be well known outside Gujarat, but all are well worth visiting.

South to Siddhpur

After successfully re-entering Gujarat with our liquor supply intact, despite my licence being locked in an unopenable case, L drove us to the small town of Ambaji where Vijay had spent the night. We found him waiting on a corner.

Although Siddhpur is less than 90km to the south, the journey took the best part of 2 hours. Part of the road was undergoing repair…

Indian buses should never be argued with - they tend to drive faster than many would think appropriate and bully all other vehicles out of their path

…though it was not busy…

Ambaji to Siddhpur

…not with vehicles, anyway.

Ambaji to Siddhpur

Siddhpur

The Houses of the Dawoodi Bohra

Siddhpur may have over a thousand years of history, but at first it resembled any other middle-sized Gujarati town. However, nearing the centre we started to notice residential buildings of an unusually elegant style.

Dawoodi Bohra houses, Siddhpur

Not just one or two but whole streets…

Dawoodi Bohra houses, Siddhpur

….indeed a whole residential district.

Dawoodi Bohra houses, Siddhpur

These are the homes of the Dawoodi Bohra, a community of over a million, most of whom live in Gujarat or Karachi, several thousand of them in Siddhpur.

In my ignorance I quite recently believed Islam consists of two monolithic blocks, Sunni and Shia. Then we met the Ibadis in Oman, and now it is about to become much more complicated. The Sunni/Shia split occurred early on, in the 7th century CE, the Ismaili diverged from the Shia mainstream in the 8th century, they split into Nizaris and Mustaali in the 11th and the Mustaali split into the Taiyyibi and Hafiz in the 12th. Most Taiyyibi are now members of the seven different Bohra groups who splintered off between 1426 (the Jaffari Bohras) and 1977 (The Progressive Dawoodi Bohras). And that is the simplified version.

Schisms in Christianity usually concern doctrine or religious practices, but in Islam it is the recognition of leaders that has caused division. Emphasis varies, but doctrine and religious practice are largely consistent, so the Dawoodi Bohra still regard themselves as part of the Ismaili branch of Shia Islam.

Street of traditional Dawoodi Bohra Houses, Siddhpur

In matters of prayer and dress Dawoodi Bohra are conservative, the men traditionally wear a white tunic over white trousers with a white and golden cap while woman wear a two-piece outfit called a rida – a little red riding hood dress - in any colour except black.

Two Dawoodi Bohra women in rida - one white, one red - and three men in traditional white costume

In other matters they are relatively liberal, women have more autonomy than in most Indian communities and the Bohras are open to any aspect of modern/Western culture not specifically forbidden.

Bohras are relatively affluent, but not all the old buildings are inhabited or in good condition and from some angles Siddhpur resembles a run-down Indian version of Bath.

Not all houses are in good repair, Siddhpur

Few tourists come this way; if they did owners might capitalise on their interest, but the buildings are not necessarily valued and some have been demolished, their modern replacements adding little to the town’s ambience.

A modern building taking the place of a demolished traditional dwelling, Siddhpur

Bank Minas

As we walked down the main street of the Dawoodi Bohra quarter…

Main street, Dawoodi Bohra quarter, Siddhpur

…. flocks of mina birds jostled among the traffic and around food sources. The common mina lives up to its name in India and throughout south Asia, but it does not usually flock like this, and its plumage is darker. Minas, I discover are almost as diverse as Islamic sects; there are 9 species of ‘true’ minas and another 17 ‘jungle and hill’ minas. These, I am fairly confident, are bank minas, limited to central India they are often found in flocks in cities.

Bank Minas, Siddhpur

Rudra Mahalaya Temple, Siddhpur

Vijay grabbed a tuk-tuk and after weaving through the traffic, pedestrians and mina birds for a few hundred metres we reached the remains of the thousand-year-old Rudra Mahalaya. The temple, skulking behind a wire fence, was guarded by a grim-faced man sitting on a plastic chair amid the rubble and long grass. Clearly this was not an ordinary ruin.

Rudra Mahalaya

Vijay proved as good with grim-faced guardians as he had been with smiling matriarchs yesterday, the padlock was removed and we were allowed in – on the strict condition that we took no photographs.

Columns in the Rudra Mahalaya - I was well out of sight of the guardian, so conditions did not apply

Building was started in 943 by Mularaja the founder of the Chaulukya Dynasty who ruled much of Gujarat and Rajasthan for 300 years. It was renovated in 1142 by his descendant Jayasimha Siddharaja, who made the town his capital and gave it his name. Gujarat was annexed by the Islamic Delhi Sultanate in the early 14th century and the temple was desecrated. 100 years later the Sultan of Gujarat destroyed part of the temple and converted the rest into a mosque.

Dome, Rudra Mahalaya, Siddhpur

The building has deteriorated over the last 600 years, but the reason for the fence and the guardian is that the site is claimed by both Hindus and Muslims. The BJP (Bharatiya Janata Party) who form the governments of both India and the state of Gujarat are Hindu nationalists. They often promote such conflicts, and the Muslims generally respond in kind. Gandhi was a devout Hindu, but fought (non-violently) for a secular, inclusive India and I would respectfully suggest both sides remember that.

Patan

The district capital, Patan is a 40min drive to the east. With 140,000 inhabitants it is twice the size of Siddhpur and equally (possibly more) ancient. Patan was first fortified in 745CE by Vanraj Chavda, a king of the Chavda dynasty who would lose out to the Chaulukyas 200 years later.

There was, however nothing ancient about the restaurant where we had lunch. In the shadow of a fly-over, we ate paneer handi, an 'everyday' curry named after the vessel it is cooked in, mopped up with a kulcha.

Ran Ki Vav

The Ran Ki Vav (the Queen’s Stepwell), Patan’s greatest gift from history, sits in its own park on the northeast edge of the built-up area.

Turn left for the stepwell, Ran Ki Vav Park, Patan

27m deep and 64m long, it consists of a well and a tank to hold surplus water.

Ran Ki Vav, Patan

Ancient texts suggest it was commissioned in 1063 and completed in 1083 by Queen Udyamati in memory of her husband the Chaulukya King Bhima I. Udyamati and Bhima were the grandparents of Siddharaja who named Siddhpur. The Ran Ki Vav is older and considerably larger than the Adalaj stepwell near Ahmedabad, and we thought that was enormous.

The well, Ran Ki Vav, Patan

Sometime in the middle ages, Ran Ki Vav was flooded by the nearby Saraswati River, silted up and, despite its size, forgotten. It was rediscovered in 1940 and was the subject of a major excavation and restoration by the Indian Archaeological Survey in the 1980s.

It is not until you start descending the steps…

Into Ran Ki Vav, Patan

….you realise the abundance and the quality of the carvings.

Carvings, Ran Ki Vav, Patan

Many gods are represented but Vishnu, as himself and in the guise of several avatars, is the most important here.

Vishnu (I think) Ran Ki Vav, Patan

There are female figures, too, goddesses, particularly Parvati, apsaras (dancing spirits of the clouds and waters) nagakanyas (the protecting daughters of the serpent) and yoginis (yoga practitioners).

Female figures, Ran Ki Vav, Patan

Obviously Ran Ki Vav was more than just somewhere to fetch water. Stepwells were places to meet and perform ceremonies. They can, perhaps be thought of as inverted temples.

The stepwell as an upside down temple, Ran Ki Vav, Patan

The Sun Temple at Modhera

45mins down the road is the small town/big village of Modhera. It claims to be even older than Siddhpur and Patan, citing the visit of Lord Rama who came here to perform yagna and cleanse the sin of killing Ravana while rescuing his abducted wife Sita. We have intersected this story from the Ramayana several times on our travels, in Sri Lanka where Ravana took Sita and in Rameswaram at the Indian end of the once passable Adam’s Bridge between India and Sri Lanka. Modhera is geographically the least likely place to insert itself into the myth.

Moving from myth to history, the Sun Temple, built on the village’s western edge by Bhima I - the ruler commemorated by the Patan stepwell - firmly links Modhera with the Chaulukya Dynasty. No precise construction date can be given though the style is typically early 11th century. Shortly after succeeding his uncle in 1022, Bhima was faced with an invasion by Mahmud of Ghazni. The Muslim Ghaznavid empire ruled present day Afghanistan, western Iran, most of Pakistan and parts of Turkmenistan and Uzbekistan so they were formidable opponents. After retreating from his capital, Bhima made an unsuccessful stand at Modhera in 1024 or 25. Mahmud destroyed whatever religious buildings were here and continued south, plundering, massacring and desecrating temples before heading home with his loot. It is believed the present temple was built shortly after he left.

Sun Temple, Modhera

The temple has three sections, at the front is the Kunda, a large tank or reservoir. I would call it a stepwell - it looks exactly like those in Rajasthan if not in Gujarat. The locals describe the structure below the tower (foreground below) as a stepwell, but it is not separate from the main tank.

The Kunda, Modhera Sun Temple

Above the Kunda and in front of the Sabhamandapa (assembly hall) are two pillars…

The pillars of the kirti-torana, Modhera Sun Temple

… all that remains of a kirti-torana (triumphal arch).

All the cool kids get to go through the kirti-torana
Lynne and Vijay, Modhera Sun Temple

The Sadhamanpada is octagonal, the dome supported by eight columns linked with torana - decorated cusped arches rising from the lower brackets of the pillars. We had previously noticed these in the Friday Mosque in Ahmedabad; they are a frequent feature of Gujarati temple architecture, equally popular among Muslims, Hindus and Jains.

Inside the Sadhamnadaapa, Mohera Sun Temple

Behind is the rectangular Gudhamandapa (shrine hall). The temple was dedicated to the sun god, Surya but as it is now a historical monument rather than a functioning temple, the shrine is empty.

Into the Gudhamandapa, Modhera Sun Temple

The external carving on the Gudhamandapa is impressive…

The Gudhamandapa, Modhera Sun Temple

…and contains a small representation of the ‘Churning of the Ocean of Milk’, my favourite story from the Mahabharata. It has its own post which now includes this speciment. It is eroded enough to perhaps be 1,000 years old, unlike the sharp, new carving on Angkor Wat.

The Churning of the Ocean of Milk, Modhera Sun Temple

On to Bajana

We continued south to Bajana, en route passing a family on the move.

Just part of a family on the move, near Bajana

Bajana is a small village with a shiny new mosque and a freshly painted Hindu temple. Those two buildings apart, it is a scruffy, broken down place.

Bajana

A few miles further on the car was rocked by an explosion as we passed a lorry going the opposite way. Fortunately, there was more sound than fury and looking back we could see that one of the lorry’s tyres had disintegrated.

The Royal Safari Camp, a short distance further, consisted of a semi-circle of comfortable bungalows, an admin block and restaurant.

Those who have read the previous post will know that the combination lock on our suitcase malfunctioned this morning. We had just enough time before dinner to work through from 000 until we found its new self-chosen combination. It did not take long, doing a couple of hundred each and resting sore fingers in betwen. The hundreds tumbler, we found, had set itself one higher, meaning we were worryingly close to 999 and beginning to wonder what to do if this approach failed, when it sprang open. What we would have done faced with four tumblers rather than three is a question we fortunatey did not have to answer.

The buffet dinner fed to the small number of mainly European travellers required to fill the bungalows was good, as buffets go, and we retired feeling well fed.


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Location: Siddhpur, Gujarat 384151, India
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