9th January
Having said our farewells the previous evening, it was mostly with excitement rather than sadness that we left Khardah on Monday morning, headed south to Orissa. Derya accompanied us as far as Dum Dum, and there said goodbye and left us to continue on to Sealdah. From there we took a taxi to Howrah station; taking the overcrowded bus while carrying our rucksacks was too much to bear.
We had lunch at the Food Plaza at the station, and then made our way over to the train in a bit of a rush, as we realised only just in time that the platform was off in another building. Our train left on time, a great improvement on our previous experience of Indian trains. Our 2 AC Tier beds were comfortable, although the train was not quite as fancy as the Radjani Express on which we had arrived in Kolkata 17 days earlier.
Dozing in 2 AC Tier
We spent most of the six-hour journey dozing, and arrived at Bhubaneswar, the largest city in Orissa (or Odisha) state, at around 10pm. We had booked a room in Hotel Upasana, which was close to the station, so turned down the autorickshaw drivers and wandered out into the pouring rain. After a rapid drenching while making no progress in locating the hotel, we surrendered to a tuk-tuk. As we suspected, the journey lasted around 60 seconds.
The hotel was basic, and cleanliness was not its forte, but it was tolerable for a single night. We needed some dinner, and our reluctance to venture out into the storm trumped our distrust of the hotel's kitchen. We ordered some rice and dal, which seemed the safest option, and after dinner went straight to bed.
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10th January
We had set our alarm for 7, as there was plenty to do in Bhubaneswar before heading that evening to Puri, on the coast. When the alarm went off, however, we managed to persuade ourselves that seeing the zoo, even for its white tigers, was probably not an experience unique to Bhubaneswar: so we slept on for another hour or so. As it turned out, we missed some excitement (although we would not have seen any of it): we later read that the zoo was closed that day, because of an escaped lioness! She managed to evade zoo-keepers for a couple of days before her eventual recapture.
After enjoying a hot shower - the hotel was not that bad after all - we checked out, left our bags with the hotel, and went off to explore. We started with breakfast at a small place serving South Indian food, Truptee Restaurant, and enjoyed an excellent dosa and some idli. Our next task was to check for trains to Puri that evening, but the trains had already set off from their origin far away so it was not possible to reserve seats online. Our only option was to take a general ticket and cross our fingers for a seat. We decided to take the bus instead, which didn't promise to be an enjoyable experience but which had the virtue of departing every ten minutes.
Finally it was time for some proper sightseeing. We hailed a tuk-tuk and travelled south, into the centre of the old town. Our destination was the magnificent Lingaraj Mandir, a 54 metre high temple to Tribhuvaneswar. It mostly dates from the 11th century AD, and parts of the complex are even older. Unfortunately non-Hindus are not allowed past the golden lions that guard its entrance, so we were directed round to the side, where there is a viewing platform for that looks down into the large complex of more than 50 temples and shrines. From there we watched the many worshippers whirl around the mighty mandir.
After enjoying a hot shower - the hotel was not that bad after all - we checked out, left our bags with the hotel, and went off to explore. We started with breakfast at a small place serving South Indian food, Truptee Restaurant, and enjoyed an excellent dosa and some idli. Our next task was to check for trains to Puri that evening, but the trains had already set off from their origin far away so it was not possible to reserve seats online. Our only option was to take a general ticket and cross our fingers for a seat. We decided to take the bus instead, which didn't promise to be an enjoyable experience but which had the virtue of departing every ten minutes.
Finally it was time for some proper sightseeing. We hailed a tuk-tuk and travelled south, into the centre of the old town. Our destination was the magnificent Lingaraj Mandir, a 54 metre high temple to Tribhuvaneswar. It mostly dates from the 11th century AD, and parts of the complex are even older. Unfortunately non-Hindus are not allowed past the golden lions that guard its entrance, so we were directed round to the side, where there is a viewing platform for that looks down into the large complex of more than 50 temples and shrines. From there we watched the many worshippers whirl around the mighty mandir.
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| The entrance to the Lingaraj Mandir |
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| View of the entire complex |
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| Peering into one of the temples |
We left behind the mandir and strolled through the muddy streets to the Bindu Sagar, a large water tank reputed to hold water from every holy source in India.
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| Bindu Sagar, with a small temple in the middle |
As we walked along the side of the tank, we spotted a temple from which smoke was rising. As we paused to consider whether to have a second look, an old man approached us and said that he was one of the priests and could show us around. In French we discussed the merits of walking around barefoot in the rain on ground sodden with cowdung, but eventually we took off our boots and socks and followed him into the temple. He showed us the various buildings of the temple, where they were mostly preparing rice and dal with which to feed the poor.
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| Inside the temple wall |
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| Brahmin working in the rain |
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| Food for the poor |
As we left he requested a donation (as they always do around the temples), and produced a sheet on which other tourists appeared to have offered donations of several thousand rupees, although we found this a less than convincing precedent. After a futile attempt to dry our feet, we pulled on our socks and shoes. After continuing our now-squelching stroll around the water tank, we walked back down to the Lingaraj Mandir to catch a tuk-tuk back north.
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| Walking on the water of the Bindu Sagar |
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| A rather eye-catching temple near the Bindu Sagar |
We directed the tuk-tuk to the Orissa State Museum, a grand old building in slightly unkempt grounds. By now it was pouring with rain, so with great relief we entered the shelter of the museum. We quickly toured the various exhibits: an impressive collection of Hindu, Jain, and Buddhist scupture; a room full of life-size models of native Orissan tribes; and an interesting collection of palm-leaf manuscripts, woven together so that they fold and unfold like a fan.
After leaving the museum we went to find the bus stop for Puri, since we didn't want to spend too much time searching once we were carrying our rucksacks. After a long stroll down the main road and back up again, it turned out that the bus stop was directly outside the museum. We went back to the Truptee for a late lunch and then collected our bags and headed over to the bus stop. There we were confronted with the screams of competing touts for two buses. My efforts to get them to stop screaming and pushing us and to explain the difference was predictably unsuccessful. Eventually we realised that the first bus was in any event full, so chose the second.
The journey on the fairly uncomfortable bus, which didn't seem to anticipate passengers being more than six feet tall, lasted two hours along a semi-paved road. Palm trees clustered in the countryside as we bounced past, every so often coming to a small village.
We arrived in Puri, a town on the seaside popular both with Hindu pilgrims and with casual Indian tourists looking for beaches south of Kolkata. Again we turned down the rickshaw drivers and tried to walk to our hotel, but it turned out to be much further than we had expected, so again we were forced to succumb and eventually arrived at Hotel Gandhara in a tuk-tuk.
We were shown through the hotel and up to our room; both were absolutely spotless, which was particularly pleasing since the room cost no more than the unpleasant lodgings in Bhubaneswar. We dropped off our bags and went to speak to the travel agency attached to the hotel. Eventually we worked out several trips to keep us occupied for our four days in Puri. We had a quick dinner and went to bed, exhausted after a long day.
After leaving the museum we went to find the bus stop for Puri, since we didn't want to spend too much time searching once we were carrying our rucksacks. After a long stroll down the main road and back up again, it turned out that the bus stop was directly outside the museum. We went back to the Truptee for a late lunch and then collected our bags and headed over to the bus stop. There we were confronted with the screams of competing touts for two buses. My efforts to get them to stop screaming and pushing us and to explain the difference was predictably unsuccessful. Eventually we realised that the first bus was in any event full, so chose the second.
The journey on the fairly uncomfortable bus, which didn't seem to anticipate passengers being more than six feet tall, lasted two hours along a semi-paved road. Palm trees clustered in the countryside as we bounced past, every so often coming to a small village.
We arrived in Puri, a town on the seaside popular both with Hindu pilgrims and with casual Indian tourists looking for beaches south of Kolkata. Again we turned down the rickshaw drivers and tried to walk to our hotel, but it turned out to be much further than we had expected, so again we were forced to succumb and eventually arrived at Hotel Gandhara in a tuk-tuk.
We were shown through the hotel and up to our room; both were absolutely spotless, which was particularly pleasing since the room cost no more than the unpleasant lodgings in Bhubaneswar. We dropped off our bags and went to speak to the travel agency attached to the hotel. Eventually we worked out several trips to keep us occupied for our four days in Puri. We had a quick dinner and went to bed, exhausted after a long day.
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