Islamic gem of the South India

Trip Start Mar 03, 2008

Trip End Mar 31, 2008

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Where I stayed

Hotel Kanishka International

(Bijapur hotels)

Flag of India Bijapur, India
Tuesday, March 25, 2008

Bijapur is a large, congested town with all the usual activity in the rubbish strewn streets. I got a large, clean, bright cool room with the biggest bed ever and a good bathroom with hot water in a business hotel on the edge of the town. Still not a luxury pad but defintely one of the best rooms I've had during the trip and not bad for 600 rps plus it had an excellent restaurant which is important for me when I'm travelling to areas with few tourists to hang out with as eating alone is always difficult here. The skies opened once again and I was stranded in the hotel for the entire afternoon and evening as the monsoonal rain unleashed itself months before it was due. Luckily I had a good selection of English speaking channels to watch on the TV.

The next day, I walked up to the impressive Golgumbaz set in peaceful gardens. Dating from 1659, it is the mausoleum of Mohammed Adil Shah, his two wives, mistress, a daughter and grandson. The interior is pretty dull and the real gem is the seven storey towers at each corner of the hall topped by an enormous dome, 38m in diameter. Apparently it's the second largest dome in the world after St Peter's Basilica in Rome. I panted my way up the steep, winding stairwell to the 'whispering gallery' inside. As I was there early, there were only a few people up there (thank goodness as Indian's like to make a lot of noise in monuments - don't know why!) and the echo of the slightest sound repeated at least ten times over. The views from outside of the dome were also great with the large mosque and various ramparts of the old fortified town standing out amongst the built up areas.

That afternoon, I took a rickshaw down to the market area which was bustling with every type of trade. I had wanted to change my train ticket reservation to a day earlier to go to Mumbai but at the railway station they'd told me I couldn't do it as I'd booked it via a private agent. Somebody helped me find the only private travel agent in town (it seemed) in some backstreet and up a few flights of stairs in a residential building. You see how kind people can be. The guy there spoke excellent English and we then spent four hours (I kid you not) trying to contact and then persuade the agent in Hampi where I'd booked the ticket to either cancel or change the ticket. The Hampi guy was unco-operative and my Bijapur guy took great offence and said that as a foreigner they should be trying to help me (he said he wouldn't have made this effort for an Indian national). He called up the IRTC who run the railways and made a complaint about the Hampi guy and lots of angry verbal exchanges took place - rather unusual for Indians - on my behalf! Eventually we got it all sorted and my ticket was changed although I had to upgrade to 2AC (two tier air-conditioned carriage) as there was no more room in 3AC (three tier). To be honest, if I'd known how complicated it would get, I would have just rebooked the ticket and written off the Ł5 I'd already spent on the first ticket. But the guy was so keen to help and show that Indians are honourable that I felt obliged to sit there for all those hours until it was resolved!

The next day I went to to the other side of the town to Ibrahim Rouza, thought to be one of the most finely proportioned Islamic monuments in India, built by one of the Shahs for his queen. He died before her so he was buried here as well. There are tall minarets which are said to have inspired those at the Taj Mahal and lots of filigree work. I then twiddled my thumbs for the rest of the day and finally finished the epic book Shantaram, before catching a train to Sholapur in the state Maharashtra, where I was connecting (a few hours later) to an overnight train to Mumbai - the city where the Shantaram novel plays out. I was quite excited to be making my third trip there as the book had really brought it alive for me. I was even staying in the hotel (well it's a floor in an old building with 10 box rooms or so) above the hotel where the author of the semi-autobiographical novel had stayed!

As my train to Bombay arrived pretty much on time at 10.30pm, by the time I'd found my berth and made the bed (you get sheets, blanket and a pillow in 2AC!) and chatted to the Indian guy opposite me who worked for IBM, it was time for bed. The 8 hour overnight journey was uneventful and fairly comfortable and then we all got up as the train plodded through the outskirts of Mumbai (which takes an hour to cross). The elderly Hindu gentlemen on the berths below me sat and meditated and did some yoga asanas for a while before we arrived at CST or Victoria Terminus as some call it - a huge and fine imposing Victorian train station.

I hopped in a black and yellow taxi (they don't have rickshaws in inner Bombay) and we sped through the normally congested streets as the city started to wake up from its slumber. I already knew the area of Colaba pretty well from previous trips, so I directed the taxi driver - taxi drivers in Mumbai don't know anywhere in their city - to the street where my hotel was based just opposite Colaba bay and Gateway of India monument constructed by the British. After lugging my bag up four floors, I was shown to my cubby hole of a room (but with a comfy bed again!!!!) which had spectacular views over the harbour..