Travelling Around Britain and the World

Monday 4 March 2019

Blackbuck National Park, Velavadar: Gujarat Part 6

Gujarat: The What, Where, When and Who

India
Gujarat

This post covers day 6 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 drive from Bajana to Velavadar and the Blackbuck National Park

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 was 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-

A Village Festival and a Park Teeming with Wildlife

Bajana to Velavadar

After a breakfast of omelette, stuffed parathas and fruit we set off on the 3½hr journey south from Bajana to the Blackbuck Park. We drove through agricultural land growing wheat, cotton, sesame and cumin among other crops. As usual cattle, sheep and goats were being herded along the highway while yet more cattle wandered at will.

This time it's cattle causing the holdup

A Village Festival

After 80mins we stopped at a village – I am unsure of the name – where there was a market and celebration, something to do with Lord Shiva, Vijay told us. Makeshift stalls were laid out along the side of the road…

Stalls alongside the road, Gujarat village market

….in parked vehicles and on any available piece of ground.

Stalls in tuk-tuks and spreading up the alleys, Village market

As every English shepherd once had his crook, every Indian herder of beasts has his stick. Like the crook they are not for hitting, but for pointing, waving and generally being an extension of the herder’s arm. I would have thought that one would have seen out a lifetime’s herding, but business was brisk at the pole store.

Herders' sticks in the market

Being a holiday, there were entertainments for children. The bouncy castle looked a little underinflated and the round-about as minimal as they come, and both would have looked better without the litter - in India there is always litter – but for the village’s smallest citizens, I am sure they were objects of wonder.

Round-about and bouncy castle (not that it is, strictly speaking, a castle)

This was a religious holiday, so we joined the stream of people making their way to and from the small temple.

Lynne and Vijay make their way to the temple

We had plenty of stares, foreigners are rare round here, but inquisitive rather than threatening. At the temple Vijay said he would watch our shoes while we had a look, though elsewhere we just left them unwatched with all the others. Ours looked bigger, a little better quality but just as dusty as the villagers’ so we wondered why but said nothing.It was a small Hanuman shrine, with a simple idol and clouds of jasmine scented smoke; an attendant offered Lynne a tilak as we left. Vijay then asked us to watch his shoes while he paid his respects. They looked expensive and far cleaner than ours, but then he was always crisply dressed, regardless of the heat or dust.

The village temple and a collection of shoes

The Blackbuck Resort, Valavadar

After another 90mins driving arable land gave way to flat scrub, arid but less salty than the Little Rann of Kutch.

Arable farms give way to scrubby grassland as we approach Velavadar

We soon reached our accommodation, ominously appearing on our itinerary as the Blackbug Resort but actually the Blackbuck Resort. It consisted of large, comfortable well-separated traditional bungalows forming a loose semi-circle in the dry grass.

Our bungalow, Blackbuck Resort, Velavadar

We dumped our luggage and wandered back to the restaurant, a very smart affair with crisp tablecloths and quality china. Being on full board we ate a set meal, the smartly dressed waiter bringing a succession of small dishes, carefully explaining each. Peanut kofta, a variation on waldorf salad, murgh makhani, a vegetable curry based on bottle gourd, paneer with spinach, kulcha and pappads were all well-cooked, well-spiced and beautifully presented. A beer would have been a perfect accompaniment, but unfortunately Gujarat is dry (though not completely - I had a tourists’ liquor licence which allowed us a nightcap in the privacy of our room).

Returning to our bungalow during the midday heat, we sat on our large veranda facing the open savanna. Later we would visit the Blackbuck Nature Reserve, but the antelopes are common throughout the region and several visited as we relaxed in the shade.

A male blackbuck keeping a wary eye on us, Blackbuck resort, Velavadar

The Blackbuck National Park

A jeep arrived to take us the short distance to the National Park near the village of Velavadar.

In the tiger sanctuaries of Nagarhole and Ranthambhore (4 ‘safaris’ 0 tigers), where you can go is dictated by the terrain, in the Little Rann of Kutch we roamed freely but the savanna of the Blackbuck Park is neatly divided into rectangular sections by well-made, though unpaved, roadways.

We sat in the back of the jeep with Vijay, who enjoys these parks and has some knowledge of local birds, while in the front was a park ranger and a driver.

The park ranger with a remarkable talent, Blackbuck National Park

I had paid the expensive camera fee and hoped for some good pictures, Lynne’s phone camera was free but I doubted it would be much use in these surroundings. How little I know! Most of the pictures that follow were taken on Lynne’s phone by the ranger. We all had binoculars and he had perfected the technique of looking through one ‘nocular’ while holding the phone to the other and taking pictures. This would be easy for four-armed Lord Shiva, but the friendly ranger appeared to be an ordinary human.

A male blackbuck and part of his harem, Blackbuck National Park

Blackbuck were not difficult to find, the grassland on both sides of the road teemed with them and deciding which group to photograph was the biggest problem.

Juvenile blackbucks, Blackbuck National Park

Nilgai (also known as blue bulls), the other common antelope in this part of India, were present in slightly smaller numbers. Much stockier and less graceful than the blackbuck the males have stumpy little horns. Fully mature males look bull-like and really are blue, the nilgai below are juvenile males.

Nilgai, Blackbuck National Park

He also photographed birds. We saw both common and demoiselle cranes, they are similar, but we saw demoiselle cranes in Mongolia in 2007 and comparing photographs I think those below are common cranes.

Common Cranes, Blackbuck National Park 

Even more impressively he captured a series of sharp images of a montagu’s harrier in flight…

Montagu's harrier, Blackbuck National Park

…while I was still fiddling with the settings on my camera.

Montagu's harrier, Blackbuck National Park

The full bird list included snake eagle, short tailed lark, crested lark (flying up like a cloud from the roadway as we drove along), partridge, flamingo, spoonbill, bay-backed shrike, green bee-eater (brightly coloured little birds, I managed a reasonable photograph in Sri Lanka, laggar falcon, white-tailed bulbul and last, but not least, the very common red-wattled lapwing – my sole contribution to these photographs in the park.

Red-wattled lapwings, Blackbuck National Park

It was not just birds and antelopes, we may have failed to see any of the resident Indian wolves, but we did see a wild dog, and caught a fleeting glimpse of a hyena, though it ducked down into the long grass before even the ranger could raise a camera. A wild pig was more cooperative…

Wild pig, Blackbuck National Park

….and yet another male blackbuck crossed the path in front of us as we headed for the exit.

A blackbuck bids us farewell as we head for the exit

Back at the Blackbuck Resort dinner was as good as the lunch, the centrepiece being a fine vegetarian thali with a mixed salad.

Vegetarian thali at the Blackbuck Resort


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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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