Matheran in the Monsoon

Photoset | Slideshow

Last Saturday, along with a couple of friends, I visited what probably is Mumbai's favorite hill-station: Matheran. All of us have been jaded (and generally tired) for some time now. We had been discussing for a couple of weeks, about visiting Matheran for a day trip. The plan actually was finalized on Friday. Saturday morning I boarded a train from Ambernath (where I stay) to Neral (which is the staging town for Matheran) at 8.00. My friends, for once had a sampling of my daily commute. They had boarded the train earlier. By 8:45 we were in Neral and after a wonderful breakfast of Vada-Pav chased down with tea, we took a cab to Dasturi Naka - about 9 km away.

Matheran is a pedestrian-only hill-station covered in a thick rain forest (mathe – head, ran – forest, so Matheran, in Marathi, is literally the hill top forest) on one of the mountains that constitute the Sahaydri range. One has to walk everywhere within Matheran and most of these walks, naturally are either uphill or downhill. Horses are available for the lazy who prefer to be ferried everywhere on somebody else's horsepower, but the three of us preferred walking. We walked about 15 km that Saturday, through thick rain forest and heavy mists.

Matheran is usually crowded and noisy given its proximity to Mumbai. But we were lucky — we went a weekend after the 15th August Independence Day weekend and a day before the Ganapati festival commenced. Along with the swine flu scare, this timing ensured that the hill-station had virtually no crowds. We could walk peacefully; take our time to admire the forest and the dense grass and other vegetation that had sprung up in the rains. We could take it easy at Matheran's various (viewing) points and take pictures without being jostled or without having any unnecessary primates entering the frame.

We visited three points. The first on our itinerary was Panorama point which is about a 6 km trek to and from Dasturi Naka. This took most of our early morning. The pathway to Panorama is bordered by cliffs on one side which in this season are covered with thick vegetation. The other side belongs to the deep forest. From the valley side, at this time of the year, mists keep rolling in and visibility is often poor. It is eerie and thrilling — all you see is a bit of the pathway and the dripping trees. Your feet naturally never stray from the middle of the path when the mist rolls in. At the end of the trek you reach a point with valleys on all three sides of you and lovely views. In front of you, are a couple of peaks one of which has an old dilapidated fort. On one side, you can make out a huge lake and a few streams in the valley along with scattered villages. The other side provides a further glimpse of another of the Sahaydri valleys and a small portion of Neral. Panorama is incidentally at one end of Matheran and so hardly gets any crowds.

After returning to Dasturi, we trekked to Matheran proper. That is a 3 km walk that takes you past Aman Lodge - one of the stations along the Matheran toy train railway — and eventually deposits you at Bazarpeth. This is Central Matheran and has its market. The Bazarpeth, incidentally, has Matheran's has only stretch of cobbled road (this is a recent development) otherwise all the roads in Matheran are of packed earth.

On our way to Matheran's Bazarpeth we spotted a snake — a du-tondi — (du - prefix for two, tondi - face) 2-faced one. This snake's tail also looks likes its head and hence the belief that it has two heads. After the little fellow posed for a few pictures, we continued on our way. Around 12:15 PM we found ourselves on Matheran's main street and extremely hungry. A small "tapri" offered to cook lunch for us provided we were willing to wait for 20 minutes. We were. As we waited, thick mists suddenly rolled in from the valley. Actually I don't know if we can call it a mist. Think of it more as a huge bunch of clouds that funneled themselves up through the valley using the wind and then blew into Matheran. Visibility was suddenly reduced to a few feet. As the mist/cloud rolled in and piled thicker and thicker it suddenly started to pour. Heavily. We had our lunch watching the rain cascade down. By the time we finished our lunch, the rain had reduced to a drizzle and we set forth in the rain.

The drizzle soon stopped however and the jungle started steaming. In midst of this we were squelching our way to One-Tree Hill which is about a 2.5 km trek from Matheran's Bazarpeth. Matheran was established by the British and has numerous bungalows which are reminiscent of the Raj. Many of these border the pathway to One-Tree Hill. Most of these are now abandoned and dilapidated and look like something out of a horror movie. The forest has claimed most of the estates. Thick trees now grow all over their gardens. The bungalows themselves are totally covered with moss and some have bits that have caved in. Often all that is left of an estate is the entrance, and a nameplate carved in stone. As we walked towards One-Tree Hill we suddenly came across an entrance which proclaimed that the bungalow was "The Homestead" and that it was the estate of Sir Ratan Tata. Being employees of the Tata group we were naturally curious and intrigued to see the illustrious name in Matheran. A board above the entrance proclaimed that it was a convalescent home. We entered the estate to find a sprawling ruin, boarded up, partly caved in and now overgrown with trees and moss and creepers. We found a small outhouse which had a caretaker and his family and struck a conversation with him. We introduced ourselves as Tata employees. He confirmed that the estate belonged to the Tata group. It was formerly used as a convalescent home for Tata trustees and employees. But the estate was closed 15 years ago. Now sometimes somebody from the Tata Trust visits about once a year, walks around, asks the caretaker if he needs anything in particular and then returns. The caretaker said that there was some rumor and discussion about the Tatas converting it to a hotel/resort (it really is a huge estate) but nothing materialized of it. It was sad to see the estate reducing itself to a ruin. We came out of the estate and continued our journey to One-Tree Hill.

One-Tree Hill is again at one end of a cliff. You descend from the pathway and then make your way further down along the edge of a very slippery cliff. I slipped once but unfortunately didn't go all the way down. After you negotiate this path, and shoo away the monkeys chittering at you further along the pathway, you climb up a wee bit to reach a small hilltop. You are now face to face with a huge stone cliff on the top of which used to stand a solitary tree. Hence the name of the hill. Now the original tree is gone and a new one is growing in its place but it will be sometime before the present One- (work in progress) Tree Hill does justice to its name again. There is a small pathway that goes up that cliff. But everything was so covered with moss that after some debate we decided to abort any plans of actually getting on to One-Tree Hill. So there we were — Standing on one hill top and gazing at another in front of us. Behind us was the slippery climb up back to the pathway. On either side of us were deep valleys. We did the prudent thing — walk around the edges of the cliff that we were standing on and admire the view. The view looks down on the catchment area of a dam (probably Malavali dam) on one side. So you see this huge lake spread out for you. On the other side you see a deep valley and far away down some fields and a few houses. There is a lone rock which sort of hangs in the air from the cliff and over the valley. A slippery trail goes to it, the kind of trail where if you don't stop yourself in time you would take the quick way down to the base of the hills that have Matheran as their crowning glory. So we sat there for some time, took a few pictures and then decided to get back to the pathway. After a few minutes of careful and strenuous climbing and a few incidents of losing our footing, we were back on the pathway.

By this time it was nearly 4.00 PM. We were thirsty but found that we had exhausted all our water. So we decided to make a beeline to Charlotte Lake. This supplies water to Matheran and has a small temple at one end along with a couple of small stalls selling tea, corn on the cob, etc. The way to it Charlotte Lake from One-Tree Hill is lovely. The pathway is covered in thick dark forest. The little light that filters in through the leaves makes everything look green. In the monsoon, with water droplets glistening on the leaves everything looks a sort of liquid green.

We eventually reached Charlotte Lake and stopped at a stall for tea and water. The stall has been adopted by a couple of stray dogs one of who took a liking to me. For the 20 minutes or so that we were there, this dog would insist that I scratch its head, ears, and throat. If I stopped it would lick my hand and then nudge it with its nose. The dog would keep this up till I gave in and started again. When we finally decided to make a move, it gave me a mournful look which sort of conveyed what it thought of me - What an idiot you are! Walking through km of rain forest when you could sit here and scratch my head! - It then gave my hand a farewell lick and very philosophically sat down and curled itself back to sleep.

We then started trekking back. By this time it was around 5.00 PM and the light was getting murkier. We had to get back to Dasturi to head back home. This meant first walking back to Matheran's Bazarpeth - about 2 km away. From Bazarpeth it is another 3–4 km to Dasturi. We decided this time to walk along the toy train railway tracks (the train doesn't run in the rains due to landslides etc). A part of the railway tracks has a valley on one side and it is a nice walk downhill along the cliff edge. At some spots, where there is a bit of extra space alongside the tracks, the locals have set up small stalls. We stopped at one such "tapri" for another round of tea. Eventually we reached Aman Lodge — the station closest to Dasturi. From there we moved off the tracks and walked to Dasturi Naka. From Dasturi we again took a cab and were in Neral around 6:30 PM. Soon enough (after a quick snack) we boarded our train and I reached home around 7:45 PM.

I have been to Matheran twice before and each time I have found that I hated the crowds and the dust. I have never really liked Matheran earlier. On my last visit, last year I did feel that a monsoon visit might change my mind about this place. Matheran in the monsoon was a nice experience. I think it helped that we were there on a day when there was absolutely no crowd. It is in this that I realized how nice this place can be especially at this time of the year. It offers a lot of solitude. The air is nice and fresh; the forests are green and lovely (even the trees are covered with green moss) and apart from your conversation or the occasional whinny of a horse or the gust of wind in the treetops there are no noise. Maybe that is what it takes to like this place. On our way back we contemplated if we should bunk office on a couple of weekdays and stay in Matheran and explore some of it by night. And the rest of it, which we haven't visited yet, by day. I guess that will have to wait till the next monsoon.

Matheran in the Monsoon: Photoset | Slideshow

Earlier post on Matheran: Matheran: The Hilltop Rainforest

Devout Odyssey: Ashtavinayak, Tuljapur, and Kolhapur

(Or) To Ashtavinayak, Tuljapur, Kolhapur, and Back Again in 45 Hours

Yep, rub your eyes, and read that again — Ashtavinayak, Tuljapur, Kolhapur, and back again inside of two days. We did it. Over the 8th and 9th (and a bit of the 10th) of January 2009. This post will tell you how. And more.

Pre-requisites: 

• One crazy brother
  
• One vehicle (preferably the SUV types, we used a Scorpio)
  
• One good driver
  
• One reluctant blogger
  

It is commonly known that a typical Ashtavinayak trip, arranged by the tours and travels operators, takes about three days. If you have a vehicle of your own, this trip (to what are considered to be amongst the holiest temples dedicated to Ganesha and usually undertaken by Maharashtrians at least once in their lifetime) can be managed comfortably in a day and a half. The best route and itinerary, for people in and around Mumbai, and which I have used in my earlier trips, for the trips is: Mumbai/suburbs - Ozhar – Lenyadri – Ranzangaon – Siddhatek – Morgaon – Theur (halt for the night) – Mahad – Pali – back to Mumbai.

A trip to Tuljapur to visit the Tulja-Bhavani temple and to Kolhapur to visit the Mahalaxmi temple typically involves an overnight train/bus journey, a visit to the temple and an overnight train/bus journey back to Mumbai. 

I have visited the Tulja-Bhavani and the Mahalaxmi temples once before — we had hired a car and made this trip along with Panhala in four days. Ashtavinayak has happened twice already and my last visit in August 2007, was particularly memorable for the sheer amount of greenery on display. Last year we couldn't make the Ashtavinayak trip for various reasons — both my brother and me couldn't get leave at the same time, office and other commitments, etc. My brother typically visits the Ashtavinayak at least twice a year (ya, he is one of those devout types). With no visits last year, I knew an exercise in brownie points collection would be in the offing and was looking forward to the trip. But I hadn't reckoned with the pent up spiritual fervor in my brother. Having not said hello to the Ashtavinayak temples all of last year, he felt that he needed to do something extra to compensate. So he decided that a trip comprising the Ashtavinayak temples along with a visit to the Tulja-Bhavani and the Mahalaxmi temples at Tuljapur and Kolhapur would have the requisite spiritual quotient for him to make up for the last year. I agreed — I like to travel and the more places the better. 

My sis-in-law had ruled herself out very early and we felt that without her a three and a half day itinerary would be quick (my sis-in-law is prone to travel sickness) as well as comfortable. We spent a few days in figuring out the details and "optimizing" the route we were to take. Since we wanted to visit Tuljapur and Kolhapur after Ashtavinayak it meant rejigging our usual route. We found that of all the eight temples, Siddhatek is closest to Tuljapur, with a state highway that goes straight to that place and we planned our itinerary accordingly. This time our itinerary for Ashtavinayak was as follows: Pali – Mahad – Ozhar – Lenyadri – Ranzangaon – Theur – Morgaon – Siddhatek. From Siddhatek we would go to Tuljapur, and from there, via Solapur, to Kolhapur and then back. That was the broad plan. When we got a hang of the dates on which we could probably make the trip, we came up with the following:

Day 1, Thursday, 8th January 2009, following an early start, was to be used for visiting 6 or 7 of the Ashtavinayak temples. Depending on the time taken through the day, we would halt for the night either at Theur (which got my vote, for it has decent facilities for an overnight stay) or at Morgaon (which has passable rooms on hire). The next day, Friday, 9th January 2009, we would first head to Morgaon, if we had stayed overnight at Theur. If we managed to reach Morgaon on the earlier day we would press on to Siddhatek to visit the last Ashtavinayak temple on our list before heading to Tuljapur. We planned to halt at Solapur, which is just off Tuljapur, for Friday night. Saturday morning 10th January 2009, we would drive to Kolhapur to visit the Mahalakshmi temple. We planned to stay that day in Kolhapur and then head back home on Sunday morning, reaching Ambernath (where I stay) in the late afternoon.

What happened in actuality was totally different. I hadn't reckoned with my crazy brother. And I hadn't taken into account the absence of my sis-in-law for this trip who would have slowed us and restored sanity to the trip.

Ashtavinayak

As planned we started early morning on Thursday, waking up at 04:00. The hired vehicle arrived at 05.00 and we were off at 05.15 (with an impatient and relieved sis-in-law all but urging us out of the home so that she could get back to her sleep and peace). We reached Pali at around 07:10. After the darshan and quick round of chai, we drove to Mahad and reached it around 08:15. Darshan was followed by picking up a substantial amount of boiled peanuts — which both my brother and I love — that was our breakfast. We then headed towards Ozhar via Karjat and through the Karjat - Murbad Phata which touches the road that goes through Malshej Ghat at Tokewade. We halted for a few minutes at the top of Malshej Ghat to stretch our legs and watch the monkeys. We were in Ozhar by 11:30 AM and then on to Lenyadri (climbing up and down 307 steps under the hot sun is not advisable) at 12:20 PM. Lenyadri is where we had our lunch (yummy Misal Pav for me) and purchased a variety of raisins — Lenyadri is known for its grape vineyards and the raisins made from local grapes are of excellent quality. We started for Ranzangaon around 13:30 and (due to patches of bad roads) reached it around 15:45. 

The drive to Ranzangaon is through numerous farms and villages and small towns — Narayangaon (which is home to most of the dishes of the GMRT — radio telescope), Junnar and a few others. What was surprising as we drove past these villages was to find them apparently deserted. There were a few people working in the farms that surround these villages but their numbers were hardly enough to account for the number of homes that you could see in each village. Where were all the people? Watching saas-bahu TV soaps? Or sleeping off the afternoons? Or did zombies attack and devour them all? The mystery was finally solved when we took the main streets of some of these villages. It was the "market day" in that area and it looked like the entire population of the village had descended on to the single street haggling and milling about purposelessly, shouting out good natured and contradictory directions when we asked for them, and generally having a jolly good time.

Ranzangaon was where we got delayed a bit. The temple had some kind of a festival going on and there were people queuing up to get into the temple. We did the needful and walked out — my brother and our driver to look for some tea. I declined the beverage and decided to hunt for guava (or peru as it is known in Marathi) and which the Ranzangaon market around the temple is famous for. Now let me confess, while I will not touch a yellow, ripe guava, I love the green, raw ones — a liking which sometimes the vendors (and other people, including my friends and family) find peculiar. I looked around the market and soon found an old aaji (Marathi for grandmother) who had a basket full of the fruit. I approached, smiled, and started looking for the most unripe one. The aaji studied me for some time, apparently liked what she saw, and started pointing out to me a choice of the best she had — the ripe ones. I shook my head and told her that I was interested in the unripe fruit. She looked at me like she had never seen a creature like me. I soon found what I was looking for — a dark green guava, as large as my palm and handed it over to be cut and smeared with a mixture of salt and chili powder. The guava was so raw and hard, that the poor aaji had to use one of the iron kilo weights on the knife to get it to cut through the fruit. When she had cut it, sprinkled it with salt and chill powder, and handed it over to me, she noted my beaming face. I took a bite of the fruit and beamed some more at which the nonplussed expression on her face was replaced by a smile and she inquired, "Khula re tu?!!" (Are you mad?!!). I nodded and pushed off.

From Ranzangaon we headed to Theur. We soon discovered a short route which passed through Koregaon and Lonikand and brought us right in front of the temple at 17:30. We had not only made up the time we lost in Theur, we were now ahead of our schedule. This meant that we would not be staying in Theur but going to Morgaon. We were in Morgaon at 19.15 and my brother decided to press on and visit Siddhatek as well. We had made good time and were by now about a couple of hours ahead of our planned schedule. I had my misgivings about what he was proposing. For I realized this meant we would have to stay the night at Siddhatek and while it is a scenic place, it is a bit oddly placed in the entire Ashtavinayak tour — being entirely off the track and in the middle of nowhere. As a result nobody prefers to stay the night in Siddhatek and consequently there are hardly any places in that village where idiots like us can stay for a night. But my brother pulled rank and said that he had heard there was a tourist hostel being built in Siddhatek and he was confident that it would be ready and that I was just being finicky. "In case it is not ready, we will find something. You just don't want to rough it out . . . " And he made a few more remarks on the same lines. Which are not entirely false — I don't unnecessarily seek discomfort if a comfortable option is easily available. Support for my brother came from an unexpected corner. Our driver, by then had got speed lust in his eyes, "Nobody manages to visit all the eight temples on the same day. That would be some kind of a record, pulling it off." And he said it in a tone that conveyed to my brother that it would be the devout thing to do and he would earn more spiritual brownie points from the almighty for doing it. So . . . my advice of staying at Morgaon was ignored and we pushed ahead to Siddhatek and made it there at 20:50 just in time before the temple closed. 

Prayers done, we started looking forward to our dinner and for a place to stay. The first had been easily taken care of. Siddhatek is on the banks of the Bhima river. On the other bank from the village, are huts which provide excellent rustic Maharashtrian fare cooked over wood fires — jowar and bajra bhakris, zunka, thecha (crushed green chilies with seasoning), two vegetables, rice and raw onions — all of it as much as you want and only for Rs. 40 per person. We had placed our orders on our way to the temple. Now we turned our energies to finding a place to stay before walking across the bridge on the Bhima River for our dinners. Our initial inquires got a gleeful response, "There is no place to stay in Siddhatek." Further inquires revealed that the village had only two rooms which were let out to visitors and both of them had been booked already. Our driver helpfully pointed out that he was going to sleep in the car anyways and so it was no problem for him. A local then told us that the new hostel (which my brother had been talking about) was ready but it was not operational as nobody had been found to inaugurate it yet. We decided to take our chances and headed there — and it turned out to be a complex of two structures, the hostel building and a huge hall, the kind used for humongous weddings, next to it. The complex is excellently located, overlooking the Bhima River. We rooted out the caretaker who confirmed what the locals had been telling us all this while — the hostel wasn't operational and in any case it didn't have any beds or any bedding or anything at all inside but for a few lights and ceiling fans. He advised us to go back to Daund, the nearest town, 50 km away —"That might have a lodge." Having passed through Daund enroute to Siddhatek, I wasn't very hopeful. Daund however was also in the direction opposite to the road that we intended to take the next day for Tuljapur. Going to Daund meant "wasting" a 100 km. The nearest town, Baarshi, on the Siddhatek-Tuljapur route, we were told was a 100 km away. I had to exercise a great self-restraint to tide over the urge to bean my brother one on his head. My brother then wheedled a bit with the caretaker, with our driver joining in. The fellow finally agreed to give us a place to stay in the hall next to the hostel. It turned out to be a single room which opened into the huge hall. The hall itself was large enough to accommodate about 2000 people. The bathrooms and other facilities were at the other end of the hall from the room. While our room had a functional lamp and a fan, the hall itself had no electricity. The caretaker also informed us helpfully that due to load-shedding policy of the MSEB, the electricity would conk off at 4:00 AM. Any water for any use had to be ferried from the "kitchen" of the hall. While I looked about grimly, my brother opened further negotiations with the caretaker and he came back to inform me that the fellow had agreed to provide the bedding and make other arrangements while we had our dinner. So we headed across the river for a fine al fresco meal on the banks of the Bhima. When we came back to the room, our driver said he would sleep in the vehicle. Bedding arrived in a few minutes. It turned out to be two thin sheets and one pillow. That, said the caretaker, was all he could manage. The "other arrangements" were in the nature of a bucket and a mug. And a candle and a matchbox. We would need the candle to navigate the hall in the morning. Well, there was nothing but to accept the arrangements. My brother had turned gleeful by then — "like camping out" he kept repeating. I was stoically silent. I took the pillow and asked my brother "to camp out" (and he had the gall to look affronted).

Our tiredness and the excellent dinner ensured we could get some sleep in spite of the thin sheets and the cold. We were up at 5:00 in the morning, finished our baths in the darkness (freezing water), and were driving towards Tuljapur by 06:30 on Friday.

Tuljapur

The drive to Tuljapur was highly pleasant — these being roads not much used to traffic and bordered by either farms or open country for most of the way. We passed through Rashin, Karmala, and Baarshi (the only town on that route of any substantial size) but human habitation is generally sparse on this route. Except for an occasional State Transport bus and a tractor or two, there is no traffic. We sighted many birds on this drive — Himalayan pied mynas, kingfishers, drongos and (to my great

 surprise) quite a few Indian rollers. We stopped enroute in some village for a breakfast of misal-pav. Except that by the time it reached our table, the pav had been replaced with puris. "The pav is stale,” said the tapri owner, "but the puris are hot and fresh." So misal pav became misal-puri and it was yummy. (Have I ever told you that the Solapur-Kolhapur area serves the best misal in Maharashtra?) Post breakfast we continued towards Tuljapur, and though the road was bad in patches, we covered the 200 odd km to Tuljapur in four hours. We were in Tuljapur by 10:45.

This was my second visit to the town (the first being about three years back, in March 2006) and this one only served to reinforce my low opinion of the town — it is every western cliché about India come true. It is dirty, nay, filthy — the entire town is a dump. The temple premises too are dirty as well as the temple itself. I was surprised and dismayed to find that even the inner sanctum of the temple where the idol of the Tulja-Bhavani resides was also dirty. Devotees offer a concoction of buttermilk, bananas, and sugar to the goddess. Oil is also offered. And powdered turmeric. And all of this is poured over the idol. We had managed to arrange an entry right into the sanctum . . . and was it yucky! All those offerings had spilled over and crushed underfoot. This had been mashed by the feet of the hundreds of devotees who get an entry into the sanctum. And this yucky and slippery stuff was all over the temple. In fact the entire temple is a hazard — one false step (entirely possible in the murky and badly lit interiors of the temple) and somebody might slip and break a bone or two. And it smells worse then it looks. All that buttermilk, and bananas and turmeric and oil combine to give off an odor which will linger in your noses long after you have left Tuljapur. And did I tell you about the crowds? Tuja-Bhavani is the family deity of Shivaji and so is immensely popular in Maharashtra. People come in thousands everyday to visit the temple. On Fridays, which it was when we were in Tuljapur, the crowds double. And the crowd is unruly and caught up in "religious fervor." They mill about the temple and the town and add layers to the filthiness of the town. One day it might take the effort akin to the Herculean cleaning of the Augean stables followed by some excavation to find the real Tuljapur under all that filth. I am immensely surprised that it is so (I have heard that Pandharpur is worse and I don't intend to make a visit to confirm if that is true). Maharashtra takes very good care of its temples — all the Ashtavinayak temples are beautiful and clean and well managed. And here is this temple which probably makes more money than all Ashtavinayak temples put together and look at the state of it. I also wonder what the civic authorities of the town are up to — for this is also a favorite with politicians. Bhavani, with the Shivaji association, is a prestigious visit for a politician to make.

Anyways, we managed to ignore the filth and say our prayers. Or rather my brother could. I was more engaged in keeping one wary eye on where I was standing in the filth and another on the crowds — my brother is as much a devotee as I am a skeptic and he actually managed to close his eyes and pray. In between watching the ruckus created by the crowd and the ensuring that I kept my footing I managed to find a few moments to pay attention what was happening in the sanctum. There were about five assorted priests all engaged in doing different things. One was pouring the aforementioned offerings on the goddess (and ensuring he got some on himself). Two others were singing (bellowing) aartis (different ones) at the same time. One was collecting and counting the money left as offerings by devotees. Another was assisting, with choice curses, the two policemen to regulate the crowd. One of the policemen was adding to the noise by blowing a shrilly whistle.

Was I happy to get out! Out of the temple and out of Tuljapur!

Kolhapur

By this time it was only noon and we decided to change our plan of staying in Solapur (which is 45 km away from Tuljapur) and head straight to Kolhapur. We would reach Kolhapur late in the evening, stay the night there, visit the temple for darshan in the morning, and then head home. So off we went. Now the Solapur-Kolhapur route is amongst the most scenic in Maharashtra — virtually the entire road is bordered with green fields of sugarcane, wheat, jowar, bajra. Vegetables and onions also abound as do orchards of pomegranates, chickoos, and vineyards. There is a particular stretch which runs next to a windmill farm up in the hills. And in season, you also find mushroom farms next to the road. I want to do this drive at least once in the rains or just after, when Maharashtra is at its prettiest.

As we headed towards Kolhapur, my sis-in-law called to check on us and to inform us that the petrol pumps were on strike and closed. At that point we had about just enough fuel to reach half way to Kolhapur. If the strike was not called off in the next couple of hours, we would have to stay put somewhere on the state highway. 

So instead of admiring the scenery (well, I did a bit of that too), I kept my eyes peeled for a petrol pump which was doing business. Enroute we had some good food at a dhaba (where we were served, apart from a tast chicken curry, an excellently prepared local freshwater fish called "Pankaj." I inquired if that fish was a pet and hence the name and the owner of the dhaba was nonplussed. "Does Pankaj have a surname?" I continued and received a belligerent, "The fish is called Pankaj" in response). 

Soon after we did find a petrol pump dispensing fuel and topped up the tank. We now have enough fuel to get us to Kolhapur and nearly to Pune, enroute home, informed our driver. So, if we don't find another petrol pump that will sell us fuel, I told my brother, the Pune-Bangalore highway will be our home tomorrow.

We continued to Kolhapur and made good speed. The road is good and our driver was in rare form. Hours later, around 50-70 Km from Kolhapur, just outside Miraj, we found another petrol pump that was doing business and topped up again. "We now have enough to get us back to Ambernath" our driver informed. At that I noted a speculative look come into my brother's eye. I turned to the driver, and he had the same speculative look. I should have put my foot down then and asked them to stop behaving like idiots on speed. But you know how respectful I am of elders and so I didn't nip the idea forming in their heads in the bud. 30 minutes later when we had halted to pour some tea into ourselves, my brother, and the driver had a summit meeting (from which I was excluded) and then they both turned to me and my brother said, "We should be in Kolhapur by 18:45-19:00. Let us head straight to the temple and if we complete darshan by 20:00, let us head home straight away."

WTF!!!

Now let me admit, I wanted to take a leisurely look at Kolhapur in the morning. It is a decent; actually, a beautiful, city, and I had liked it when I had visited it earlier (the same time as my first Tuljapur visit). And I was looking forward to sampling some of the local cuisine and explore Rankala lake and partake some gulkand ice cream which is sold around the lake. And I wanted to photograph the Mahalakshmi temple and Kolhapur in good light. Alas! Our driver, when I put the question to him, said he felt alert and fresh enough to drive back home. A couple of breaks and some tea would suffice. And he added, "It is better to be home and rest at leisure rather than wake up early and then head home." My brother had already started muttering how we could complete the entire trip inside 48 hours. Our driver added his two bits, "Just think! Praying at both the Devi temples in a single day!" And like earlier, he said it in a tone that conveyed to my brother that it would be the devout thing to do and he would earn more spiritual brownie points. He over-ruled my misgivings and protests and it was decided to head home if we complete the darshan by 20:00. Well, if you can't beat them, you join them. My brother, had the gall to question if I could manage the late night? And I smirked, and flicked the non-existent dust off my cuffs (actually there were no cuffs, but there was lots of dust) and said, “You forget, I work for an e-learning company. I work more late nights in a month than you entire office manages in a year." Which turned out to be true — as the journey progressed, I grew more and more alert, while my brother dozed in the back seat of the vehicle. 

Anyways, the short of it was I agreed to the plan, pumped up the vehicle's music system and we headed into Kolhapur. 

Needless to say, we completed the darshan by 20:00. I should admit the temple looked beautiful in the night. And it is such a more beautiful and clean place compared to Tuljapur. However photography had to take a backseat; I did manage some though. As for my plans to explore some of Kolhapur and sample its fabled cuisine — perhaps some other day.

Back Again

At 20:20 we turned out of Kolhapur city and pointed the vehicle's nose to Mumbai. I once again jacked up the vehicle's music volume. And our driver, with visions of a speed record, clocked the vehicle at 110 kmph. And kept the speedometer needle there. The Pune-Bangalore national highway is a part of the Golden Quadrilateral project and is in excellent condition. With a single 30-minute halt for some tea and to stretch our legs, we skirted the outskirts of Pune at 23:15. Half an hour later, we hit the Mumbai-Pune expressway. Another 30 minutes and we were off it and into Khopoli where we halted for a late dinner and some more tea. From then on, when we started again in about 45 minutes, we were the only vehicle road on the road. The Khopoli road which goes on to Ambernath via Karjat, Neral, and Badlapur is a lovely drive and has very little traffic even in daytime. At that time of the night, we passed only three vehicles by the time we reached Ambernath. We reached home at 2:15 AM on Saturday. We had completed our entire trip, around 1500 Km, in 45 hours.

I climbed up the stairs and hit the doorbell a couple of times before my bleary-eyed sis-in-law opened the door. "What are you doing back so early? You were supposed to be here on Sunday afternoon," that was even before she had allowed me to step into the home. I realized my brother had neglected to inform her about our change in plans. "Ask your husband," I told her pleasantly. She did and then gave him a tongue-lashing for driving so much, and so fast, in the night. Then she turned to me and said, "And what about you? Couldn't you talk any sense into him?" I paused for a moment, and inquired politely, "Talk sense into your husband?" She accepted that argument. 

How was the trip? Largely good. An experience (especially the horror that is Tuljapur) in itself and at least we achieved a speed record. But I prefer not to hurry from one place to another, because then you are just reaching destinations without having traveled at all. One day I would like to retrace this trip (preferably in the monsoons or just after) at a more leisurely pace. I might then even drum up enough courage or curiosity to revisit Tuljapur.

All the pictures:

Ashtavinayak: Pictures | Slideshow 

Tulja-Bhavani Temple, Tuljapur: Pictures | Slideshow 

Mahalakshmi Temple, Kolhapur: Pictures | Slideshow 

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For readers who are interested in such things, here are the sordid details:

Routes:

Ashtavinayak: Ambernath – (via Panvel, Vadkhal Naka, along the Mumbai-Goa Highway, Nagothane) Pali – (via Khopoli) Mahad - (via Karjat, Murbad Phata on to Karjat-Murbad Road, Tokwade, Malshej Ghat, Otur) Ozhar – Lenyadri – (via Narayangaon and Junnar) Ranzangaon – (via Koregaon and Lonikand) Theur – Morgaon – (via Daund) Siddhatek.

Siddhatek to Tuljapur: The state highway that starts from Siddhatek and passes through Rashin, Karmala, Baarshi and enters Tuljapur. (If you are not doing the Ashtavinayak trip, take the Solapur road from Pune and take the turn just outside Solapur to Tuljapur)

Tuljapur to Kolhapur: Via Solapur (you drive through the town in about 5 minutes) – Mangalveda – Miraj – Kolhapur.

Kolhapur to Ambernath: Pune-Bangalore Highway to Pune, through Katraj tunnel, to Mumbai-Pune Expressway, Khopoli, Karjat, Neral, Badlapur, Ambernath (Alternatively you can drive down the entire expressway and turn in Mumbai if you stay there, or take the road through Panvel and Shil Phata to Ambernath and the towns around it).

Distance Covered: 1470 Km.

Timings (I noted the timings):

Day 1, Thursday 8th January 2009 (Ashtavinayak)

05:15 - Start from Ambernath to Pali

07:10 - Reach Pali

07:30 - Start for Mahad

08:20 - Reach Mahad

08:40 - Start for Ozhar

11:30 - Reach Ozhar

11:55 - Start for Lenyadri

12:20 - Reach Lenyadri (temple visit + lunch)

13:30 - Start for Ranzangaon

15:45 - Reach Ranzangaon

16:45 - Start for Theur

17:30 - Reach Theur

17:50 - Start for Morgaon

19:10 - Reach Morgaon

19:30 - Start for Siddhatek

20:50 - Reach Siddhatek (stay the night)

Day 2, Friday 9th January 2009 (Siddhatek to Tuljapur, Tuljapur to Kolhapur, Kolhapur to Ambernath)

06:30 - Start from Siddhatek

10:50 - Tuljapur

12:15 - Start for Kolhapur via Solapur

13:40 - 14:35 - Lunch

19:10 - Mahalakshmi Temple, Kolhapur

20:10 - Start for Ambernath

20:20 - Pune-Bangalore highway

22:05 - cross Satara

23:45 - Mumbai-Pune Expressway

Day 3, Saturday 10th January 2009 (Khopoli to Ambernath)

00:15 - Khopoli (halt for dinner)

01:00 - Start for Ambernath

02:15 - Ambernath

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Earlier posts:

Ashtavinayak (August 2007)

Solapur, Tuljapur, Kolhapur, Panhala

Matheran — The Hilltop Rainforest

Matheran: Photoset / Slideshow

What do Mumbaikars do when they want to get away from the city's noise, crowds, and pollution for a day or two? They travel to Matheran — the hill station barely a 100 kms away. That is what four of us did last Sunday.

Matheran in Marathi literally means the forest (Ran) on the hilltop (Mathe) — the hilltop forest. So named because Matheran really is nothing more than a small settlement in a rainforest at the top of one of Sahayadri's hills. In keeping with its name, Matheran is largely and densely green, smells green, and at this time of the year, nearly as warm as Mumbai.

Matheran is ecologically a sensitive zone and thankfully, the powers that be realized this and have done their best to preserve the place and its forest. Matheran is Asia's only pedestrian town; no motor vehicles are allowed inside the hill station township's limits and visitors traverse and explore this 8 sq. km hill station on foot or horses, or if you are so inclined, a few hand-pulled rickshaws. As a result, the air here is incredibly fresh and smells of leaves, with a little hint of red mud in it. There is of course the occasional whiff of horse. But there are no petrol fumes.

We traveled to Matheran the old-fashioned way. We took Central Railway's local train to Neral, which is a station near Karjat on the way to Pune. At Neral, we boarded a toy train at 8:50 AM to take us up to Matheran 11 kms away. En route, the train stops at three stations - Jummapatti, Waterpipe, and Aman Lodge and takes a leisurely two hours to reach Matheran.

The impatient types (and the ones who couldn't get a reservation on the toy train), drive to Matheran. You can also hire cabs at Neral station which take you up to Dasturi Naka in 20 minutes. Cars and other motor vehicles are not allowed beyond Dasturi Naka that is just off Aman Lodge train station. From Dasturi Naka it is a 3 km uphill trek to Matheran. One of the disadvantages of driving is that you miss the scenic route the train takes. Another is missing the quaintly named "one-kiss tunnel" that the train passes through, presumably so called because the train is in and out of the tunnel in just enough time for lovers to steal a kiss in the sudden darkness.

Matheran, being an ecologically sensitive zone, has no paved roads. Packed dirt tracks take you from one viewing point to the other which means that by the end of the day your black (or any other colored) keds are a uniform reddish-brown thanks to the red laterite soil that makes up the Sahaydris. And it is not only the shoes that are covered by the red mist . . . so are your clothes and, so are you. By evening, at the end of a day's walking around, there is enough dust on you for seedlings to express active interest in putting down roots and getting on with life on some body part or the other of yours. This dust and dirt is useful in other ways too — when you board the local train at Neral on your way back, people give you a wide berth lest they brush some of it off you. Therefore, the train might be packed in a way that is only possible in Mumbai's local trains, but you travel in some comfort.

Matheran has numerous viewing points — the trails lead to the edge of a cliff from where you see more mountain ranges, cliffs, and rivers spread out in front of you. After you are done gazing at the hills and valleys from one point, you walk all the way back, then take another trail to another viewing point, and see some more mountains and valleys. I guess it is possible for anyone even today, when most of Matheran is marked and sign-posted, to discover a cliff where no one has been yet (or at least in the last couple of weeks). To confirm if your discovery is indeed a new viewing point, check around if there is a board or a sign that has assigned a name to it. Hopefully (the chances are 1 in a billion) you won't find one. Next, look around for a "tapri" selling water, tea, and other assorted beverages within 10 feet of the point. If you draw a blank on both the counts, quickly fashion a board and give the viewing point your name. Next, leave a few more signs from the main trails directing people to your discovery. And voila, yet another viewing point in Matheran to go to and gawp from. If I am right, Matheran has over 31 official "points."

The other procedure (and not the recommended method) to have a point named after you is to throw yourself down one of them and leave behind a sufficiently dramatic and tragic story. In following the second method, people are advised to pick an obscure point. The well-known ones — Panorama, One-Tree-Hill, Sunrise and Sunset (which hill station doesn't have one of these?) and a few others are too well-established with signposts all over Matheran marking out directions and distance to them that locals and Matheran's administration wouldn't think it worth the effort to effect a name change.

We reached Matheran around 11:00 AM and after a quick bite trudged off towards One-Tree-Hill (So called because of the single tree on the mountaintop. Now a limp red flag keeps the tree company.) about three kms away from Matheran's market place. Occasionally we would halt whenever a photo-op presented itself. And there are quite a few—Horses trot or gallop around (with guys on them trying hard to look macho and as if they are in some wild-west or historical movie. The girls [ok most of them, if not all] do their best to: a) stay on the horse, b) not scream, and c) pray — and they usually seem to manage all three very competently). Monkeys occasionally climb down from branches to the trails to get a good look at you. Birds twitter teasingly, and after you have spotted them in the dense foliage, lined up your camera, adjusted the lenses, angle, and made a hazaar other adjustments, they promptly fly off just before you can click the picture. And they do not tire of this game. Neither do you.

From One-Tree-Hill, we trekked back and took one of the side trails to go to Belvedere point. Then we walked back to the main trail and to Charlotte Lake about two kms away. Charlotte Lake supplies water to Matheran and is great place to rest your feet for a bit and have sugarcane juice, ice-golas, and roasted corn-on-the-cob. Naturally, quite a few monkeys are also around for the food. Pisarnath temple stands next to the lake.

After a round of sugarcane juices and ice-golas, we started walking again, stopping en route to photograph an anthill. By that time we were feeling a bit peckish and started to look around for a place to eat. A couple of hotels that we walked into had run out of food (this was around 3 PM). Quite a few hotels in Matheran serve excellent all-you-can-eat Gujarati thalis. What this means is that quite a number of Guju folk turn up in Matheran and polish off these thalis before you can say undhiyon or farsaan. We finally had something to eat in the main market place of Matheran and followed it by sampling Chikki (sweets made of jaggery and some nuts, etc. Whole groundnuts and jaggery is the most common, but you also get crushed groundnut, coconut, sesame, chocolate, cashew, and other assorted dry fruits — most shops stock at least 10 varieties of Chikki) in different shops. Most shops will allow you to taste free samples and this is an excellent way to have dessert. We did buy some. This was followed by some ice cream. By then it was nearly 4:15 PM and we had to hurry back to the railway station for the 4:25 PM toy train back to Neral. We eventually reached Neral at around 6:15 PM. Après some nice "special chai" at one of the hotels just outside the railway station, we boarded the 6:37 PM local train to bring us back to Mumbai.

At the risk of committing sacrilege (at least in Maharashtra), I would say that Matheran still hasn't worked its charms on me (this was my second visit), though this time around it did enough to suggest that some day I might come to like the place. The primary reason, I guess would have to do with the temperature — I expect and prefer my hill-stations to be cool (and if it is not asking too much, have a pleasant breeze blowing most of the time). Matheran is about a couple of degrees cooler to Mumbai undoubtedly, but a temperature of just below 30 degrees Celsius in a rain forest and when you are walking around 10-12 kms can be feel a bit warm — which is how I found it.

Hotels and much else in Matheran are on the expensive side. Since no mechanized transport is available, porters and horses transport goods and these are costly. Everything as a result is at a premium. Matheran can also get crowded in season (October-November, March-June) with its close proximity to Mumbai and Pune. Yesterday, it wasn't that crowded but whenever we came across a group determinedly trying to have "fun" by screaming at the top of their voices or singing tunelessly (and loudly) and generally making a lot of noise, I couldn't help fantasizing how wonderful it would be to throw all of them down one of Matheran's cliffs one by one and how sweet would be the sound they would make on their way down to meet their maker (Alas!).

Dust is ubiquitous in Matheran. But while it is not something I like, I realize that dirt trails are needed for the numerous horses that are used for transport in Matheran. Also, the mud trails make Matheran a walker's paradise. You could walk on and on and it is largely easy on your feet — and I love going on long walks. Ideally, you should go to this hill station for 2-3 days and walk around from morning to dusk.

I guess a part of my crib against Matheran is largely my fault. It was (as with most of the places in Maharashtra) just a wrong time to visit the place. By February and early March, you are looking at a dry, yellow, and brown landscape. There is much dust in the air. So you trek all the way to a point and there is just so much shimmering haze in the air that most of the view is blurred. Maharashtra is at its most beautiful and green in the rains and just after. Matheran, I could guess must be a paradise in the rains (if you can ignore a bit of slushy mud). I plan to make a visit this monsoon. From what I gathered by talking to the locals, there are hardly any tourists on weekdays during the monsoons (weekends are packed these days with the craze for monsoon picnics) and everything is fresh and green and smells heavenly. Then, in the rains, Matheran will be a lovelier place and it would be wonderful to walk from viewing point to another (or even aimlessly) soaking in the rainforest's greenness. And that is when I think I will fall in love with this hill station.

Matheran: Photoset /Slideshow

Other places worth visiting in Maharashtra:
Malshej Ghat / Ashtavinayak / Tuljapur-Kolhapur-Panhala / Mahabaleshwar-Pratapgad

Ashtavinayak (August 2007)

While the office continued to dominate my life for the last so many days, I did manage to sneak off to tour the eight Ashtavinayak temples on the weekend that followed the 15th of August. Nothing like a short trip to recharge yourself at least for a week if not more. This was my second tour of the Ashtavinayak and this time I really loved and enjoyed it. Partly the reason for this could be that unlike the last time there were only three of us making the trip—my brother, sis-in-law, and me managed to keep parents and other religious minded neighbors from joining us and (as mean as it sounds) converting it into an oldies picnic. We also had a comfortable drive this time around (unlike the last time when there were eight of us packed in a single Qualis with all our luggage). The lack of any elders in supervisory capacity also ensured that we didn't have to mind our Ps and Qs that very much. We could set our own pace, find some time to explore the areas around the temples a bit without having to feel like that we were abandoning the elders, and even sample of the local food. And though my brother and sis-in-law had misgivings about my choice of reading material (both of them, like my parents, are extremely devout), and despite of my sis-in-law lecturing me a bit about it (Actually, I didn't read the book at all during the trip, having carried another one with me, but it was worth taking along just to observe how much it discomfited my brother and sis-in-law.), much good time was had.

The tour was memorable, however, for the sheer amount of greenery that was on display. Maharashtra is primarily a dry state. Browns and yellows dominate the landscape of robust mountains and its the color that most of us associate with the region. But after a couple of months of rain it is amazing the amount of green that bursts forth from the soil. There is a coolness and a refreshing moistness in the air. The Ashtavinayak temples are bang in the middle of Maharashtra's agricultural belt. Fields of sugarcane, paddy, onions, vegetables, bananas and grape vineyards abound and are lush with green and produce. Rivers are full and the daunting mountains are transformed with a blanket of green covering them. It's a sight very soothing for the eyes and you may be as morose and as soul-weary as they make them, but you can't help feel a little joy in all that plenty.

You will find pictures of the Ashtavinayak trip here. To view a slide show, complete with detailed captions, click here.

If you want to see how much Maharashtra's landscape changes in the rains, take a look at these pictures from my last year's (January 2006) trip of the Ashtavinayak.

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Update: October 5, 2007

A couple of readers e-mailed to ask me to put in some more details regarding the trip. A few friends had expressed disbelief when I told them that we completed the Ashtavinayak trip in 1.5 days (The regular tours & travels package trips take 3 days). Most of them wanted to know how to plan the trip, particularly the order in which to visit the temples. While am unable to do a proper post, here are a few details.

It's best to make this trip towards the end of the monsoon and the days before winter sets in. From maybe the mid-August through to September and early October. In any case not after Navratri and Diwali sets in -- with the festive season setting in you can expect to encounter heavy crowds at each of the temples. For the same reason avoid the month of Shravan. Post Diwali, its "prime time" right through summer with resultant crowds. Avoid all Tuesdays, whichever be the month. Also avoid Sundays and, if you can manage it, Saturdays too.

We started early on a Friday morning and were back home the afternoon on Saturday.

The route that we took will work the best for people from Mumbai, New- Mumbai, Thane, Kalyan and the surrounding suburbs. Overall, you traverse approximately 750-800 kms on this trip. So if you are driving your own car, get a basic servicing done. We hired a Scorpio.

The route and other details:

Stage 1: To Ozar
We started early morning around 5:30 AM and headed towards Ozar. The road to Ozar goes via Kalyan, Murbad, through the fabulous Malshej Ghat to Otur. From Otur you turn off from the state highway towards Ozar which is situated on the banks of the Kukadi river. The road is bordered on both sides by sugarcane fields and makes for a lovely drive. We reached Ozar around 8:00 AM. Temple visit, photographs and all done in 20 minutes.

Things to do and look out for:
It is one of the best sections to drive through in the entire trip. Malshej Ghat is awesome but drive through cautiously as the ghat is usually covered in a thick drifting fogs particularly that early in the morning.

The shops around the Ozar temple are a good place to pick up miniature Ganapati idols and other religious paraphernalia.

Time taken: Approximately 3 hours

Stage 2: Ozar to Lenyadri
We left Ozar at 8:30 AM for Lenyadri. Take the road that turns to the left after leaving the Ozar temple and ask the locals for directions towards Lenyadri. Lenyadri is quite close to Ozar and the drive shouldn't take you more than 30 minutes. The road passes alongside sugarcane and onion fields. You will know you are in Lenyadri when the sugarcane makes way for banana plantations and vineyards.

The Lenyadri Ganesha is in a cave at the top of a mountain. So be prepared to haul your bulk up and down 307 steps.

Things to do and look out for:
Lovely views of Shivneri (the birth place of Shivaji) and the area around from Lenyadri.

The "tapris" at the foothill of Lenyadri are a good place for breakfast. Most of them will offer excellent Kande-Pohe, Misal Pav. Try either or both (lunch on the Ashtavinayak trip is usually had late).

Lenyadri is also a good place to stock up on a variety of raisins at throwaway prices.

Time taken: Approximately 1.5 hours

Stage 3: Lenyadri to Ranzangaon
We left for Ranzangaon from Lenyadri around 10:00 AM. You drive through Junnar, touching the foothills of Shivneri, and on to Narayangaon. The drive from Narayangaon till you hit the Pune-Ahmednagar highway is wonderful. Fields of sugarcane, pulses, bajra, and vegetables, and the occasional thicket of woods border most of the route.

Things to do and look out for:
Keep an eye out for the local wildlife as you drive. Mongooses are frequently spotted. You will also glimpse an occasional snake.

As you cross Narayangaon, keep looking to your left and you will soon see the huge dish antennas that make the Giant Metrewave Radio Telescope.

Time taken: Approximately 3 hours

Stage 4: Ranzangaon to Siddhatek
Siddhatek is across the Bhima river. The drive is through the heartland of Maharashtra's sugarcane growing region. (In the harvesting season, you will find yourself stuck behind a line of endless tractor-trailers hauling the sugarcane away. While the progress is slow, you can lean out of your vehicle and pluck a sugarcane stalk from the trailers passing by.) In August, the roads were clear of any traffic apart from the occasional bullock cart or a state transport bus and some two-wheelers. You do get caught in some traffic in the town of Daund but that's about it.

Things to do and look out for:
Kandi pedhas in the shops next to the temple. These spoil quite quickly so polish off whatever you buy on the same day.

Have lunch on the banks of the Bhima. There are a few small huts on the bank on the other side of the bank. You place your order on the way to the temple. By the time you are back from the darshan piping hot Maharashtrian fare is ready and served with much hospitality. The food is basic: a choice of bajra and jowar bhakris, zunka, thecha (crushed green chillies and garlic, with some oil), a vegetable, rice and dal, raw onions and some chutney -- all of it as much as you can eat. And once you are done, the hosts will insist on serving you some more food. The food is cooked over wood fires in earthen chulas and is very tasty. You eat sitting on a mat next to the river. Awesome experience especially for city slickers. A word of caution: go easy on the thecha. It easily can cause a stomach upset if you are not used to having hot, spicy food.

Time taken: Approximately 3 hours

Stage 5: Siddhatek to Morgaon
You have to retrace most of the drive back to Ranzangaon from Siddhatek before you take the turn towards Baramati and Morgaon. The countryside after you take the turn towards Morgaon off the highway is different from what you would have got accustomed through the day. Not too many fields but there's a lovely ghat to cross.

Things to do and look out for:
The trees inside the temple premises that are identified by my name.

Have some tea at any of the tapris outside the temple. It is the end of the day and you will need it.

It will be dusk by the time you start back from Morgaon. Keep your eyes peeled for peacocks once you hit the open country. If you are lucky, you might spot one. If you are really lucky, you might spot two. We did. Morgaon, in Marathi, means the village of peacocks.

Time taken: Approximately 2 hours

Stage 6: Morgaon to Theur
Your drive to Theur will be largely after nightfall. Most of the drive is along the highway that goes to Pune (Theur is the closest Ashtavinayak temple to Pune) so expect much fast-moving traffic till you take the turn that leads towards Theur. Theur is set in the midst of banana plantations, sugarcane fields and, off-late, stud farms. There are also a number of jaggery making units in the small town. In season, a sweet aroma lingers overs this temple-town.

You should be in Theur by 8.00 PM and this is the place where you will stay for the night. The accommodation is basic: clean rooms with beds and a bathroom attached (300 Rs. a night). If you are looking for comfort and luxury, stay in Baramati or in Pune. Most of these "boarding houses" will also offer home-cooked meals for a nominal cost.

Things to do and look out for:
Reserve your temple visit for early next morning (6:00-6:30 AM) when there are hardly any devotees around and the temple has just been swept clean and it's premises sprinkled with water.

Take a shower, have dinner, and then browse through the small shops around the temple. You might find some lovely miniature Ganapati idols.

There's a Vada-pav vendor near the temple's entrance who makes very good vada-pav. He shuts shop as soon as all the vadas are sold. This can be as early as 8:00-8:30 PM.

Sleep.

Time taken (to reach from Morgaon): Approximately 2 hours

Stage 6: Theur to Mahad
Start early from Theur, at around 6:45-7:00 AM. You have to get through Pune and it is a good idea to start early to avoid traffic and hit the Mumbai-Pune Expressway. Leave the expressway at Khopoli. From Khopoli, Mahad is 3 kms away.

Mahad is the closest Ashtavinayak temple to Mumbai. Expect to see some crowds here.

Things to do and look out for:
Turn off the road on the outskirts of Pune city (towards the Expressway) and drive into a "Joshi Vadewale" for breakfast. Hot batatawadas and bhajiyas with lots of elaichi tea make a good breakfast.

The shops around Mahad's temple are a good hunting ground for miniature Ganapatis and other religious items. Also a good place to pick up boiled/roasted corn on the cob and groundnuts.

Time taken (inclusive of breakfast): Approximately 3 hours

Stage 7: Mahad to Pali
This is a lovely drive, along the Sahyadris, through thick woods and paddy fields. You might encounter some traffic in Khopoli. Drive carefully: the road passes through numerous small villages and Pali itself is a town of narrow streets and too many buses.

Things to do and look out for:
Good place to shop for papads and other similar dried foodstuff. The shops also sell good kokum and Amla sherbet without any artificial preservatives. Most shops will allow you to sample the sherbets before you decide to buy them.

Time taken: Approximately 2 hrs

Stage 8: Pali to Mumbai/Thane/Kalyan/Ambernath
There are quite a few possible routes from Pali. You could drive back to Khopoli and take the road that goes to Mumbra. You could also come back to Khopoli, go on to Karjat, and then take the road that goes parallel to the railway tracks right up to Ambernath and then goes on to Kalyan and Thane. From Karjat to Ambernath this is a lovely drive with the Sahyadris and paddy fields on one side of the road and more fields and the railway trucks on the other.

Alternatively you can take an even more scenic route back. Take the road that goes to Roha and Nagothane from Pali. Most of this road parallels a river on one side and dense woods on the other. Then it hits the Mumbai-Goa highway which in this season is a strip of tarmac amidst fields and wildflowers. You drive through Vadhkal Naka (in case you haven't picked up stuff from Pali, this is another good place to stock up on papads and assorted stuff) Karnala and Panvel and to Shil-Fata from where you can turn into New Mumbai/Mumbai on one side and Kalyan and Ambernath on the other. This is the route we took.

Whichever the road you take you should be home by around 3:00 PM on the outside completing the Ashtavinayak tour in a day and a half.

Things to do and look out for:
Drive carefully and enjoy the scenery.

Time taken: Approximately 2.5 hrs

Overall Time taken: Approximately 34 hrs

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Update - 14 Jan, 2009: Devout Odyssey: Ashtavinayak, Tuljapur, and Kolhapur

Solapur, Tuljapur, Kolhapur, Panhala

Solapur-Tuljapur-Kolhapur-Panhala Trip

Oct 9, 2006 - 23 Photos

Way back in time, when I had posted the pictures of my sojourn in Arizona and of my Ashtavinayak trip, I had mentioned that I would be posting online some pictures from a three-day extended weekend trip to Solapur-Tuljapur-Kolhapur-Panhala that I had taken in March 2006.

I finally managed to cajole a friend into scanning the pictures and have posted them here, for your viewing pleasure. You can view a slideshow here. The captions of the photographs should provide you with more details.

View my earlier photosets: Arizona, Ashtavinayak Yatra, and Malshej Ghat in the Monsoons.

Update - 16 Jan, 2009: Devout Odyssey: Ashtavinayak, Tuljapur, and Kolhapur