The Ups and Downs of Ajanta and Ellora

Ajanta and Ellora are two UNESCO World Heritage Sites situated in Maharashtra state. We had flown to Mumbai from Diu and taken a long dusty Ola ride (7 hours) to get to our anchor hotel in Aurangabad. These two sites are highly praised by everyone I know who has seen them so I was quite looking forward to them. 

Ajanta was our first day of caving. Our driver took us to a shop guy who recommended we go to the viewpoint and hike in, rather than go to the parking lot and wait for a bus. I had read a similar suggestion so we started off for a 20 minute hike complete with hawkers. The whole time the caves were arrayed before us in a horseshoe shape in the cliff facing us. Apparently they were found in 1819, overgrown with jungle, by a Brit who was tiger hunting (tsk) and saw the tiger turn into a clearly man made spot in the hillside. He came for a looksee, graffitied his name in one of the paintings (tsk tsk) and returned to tell the world about Ajanta. His name is all over things but it’s not like he did any of the bloody work, is it?

Ajanta consists of 29 Buddhist sites: monasteries or worship halls starting 2 BCE to 480 CE all rock hewn by hand. Well, hammer and chisel. And this was no small gouge of a cave. These are massive areas where monks lived during the monsoons. Vast amounts of rock was moved and intricate stonework and sculpture was done. There are two distinct eras of Buddhism represented which dictate how Buddha and the other Buddhist gods were depicted.

The other amazing thing about these caves is that they are full of paintings. Gorgeous, moving, vivid murals dating from the 5th century that have survived all this time. I was struck by how naturalistic they were. People, animals, floral motifs,… Medieval Europe was still painting stilted people with babies that looked like shrunken old men at this time. These paintings made me wish I knew more about the past lives of Buddha and his mother so I could appreciate the stories better.

The less enjoyable part of Ajanta, and later Ellora, was the unholy number of wonky stairs. The 20 minute hike was all stairs, there were stairs to get from cave to cave, stairs up to the caves and stairs inside the two-story caves. Then there were stairs to the restaurant and down to the bus stop to get to the parking lot. I said a little prayer thanking my knees and calves for their continued service. But they do indeed have a work around. There were a lot of infirm tourists there. Some tottering unsteadily under their own power and some riding sedan chairs on the shoulders of porters. I shit you not. You can pay 2,000 rupees to ride in a totally unsafe dining chair tied to bamboo rods placed on the shoulders of 4 scrawny Indian fellas. And gods help you if you fall off. Did I mention cliff face?

The intense hawker gauntlet you have to run to exit is most unpleasant. I believe I hissed at a man. If you ever feel the need to have 50 men screaming at you at once I have a place to recommend you.

Stairs and hawkers aside, it was a magical place to see, and I was looking forward to Ellora the next day. 

Ellora was closer to Aurangabad so we were able to do a slightly later start. The hawkers at the gate were more laid back and conversational, which I appreciated. 

Ellora was a later site than Ajanta, starting 6 CE and had been in continual use, so no graffiti artist Brit “found” it. It was a multi-faith site with 17 Buddhist caves, 12 Hindu caves and 5 Jain caves. It’s nice when everyone gets along. 

Ellora was also painted at one point but much of that is gone. What’s incredible at this site is the architecture. Remember, hammer and chisel versus volcanic rock. And it was elaborate and glorious. It was also many more stairs. A number of the monasteries were 3 levels and their jewel in the crown, the Kailash Cave, had much climbing involved as there were buildings and galleries at different levels within the cave opening. Honestly, to call that a cave feels barbaric. I loved the back of that area where there were all these finely wrought elements, a gallery on three sides of the site, and then a massive overhang of rock all the way to the top. It felt like it could crush everyone there if it decided the columns couldn’t hold it any longer.

Overall, the parts where there was fine detail work next to unfinished excavation was fascinating to me. It seems that the sculptures came into the caves right on the heels of the excavators. Some caves were clearly not far dug, but had immaculate details carved on the doors or fronts of the columns. I was jazzed to stick my finger in the compass point holes of some of the circles. That is where one craftsperson circumscribed a perfect circle to be etched into stone and I could feel the point of their compass. Cool.

The site was over 2 km long, it was strenuous and it was a hot day. And I was an idiot. I was conserving my water.

Unlike Ajanta, there is no restaurant run by the monument. To buy cold water or food, you had to leave the monument grounds. Eventually we did and all there was were grimy roadside dhabas, so we picked the least fly specked and tried to order. They had almost nothing on their sparse menu except the monster thali, which neither of us wanted. K asked about finger chips. “5 minutes,” the kid announced, happy to be able to provide the foreigners with something. 5 Indian minutes later he comes with a tiny serving of greasy salty chips. We wolfed them down, did a few more hours of cave stairmaster and then found our driver. I was still feeling hungry but the food all seemed dodgy so I bought a 1L bottle of soda water. Soda water. Salty carbonated water on a mostly empty completely dehydrated stomach. 

After some Himroo shopping, we went back to the hotel and, for people who really needed calories, we got too caught up in booking a ride. I started to get the hunger headache and kept drinking the soda water. We headed out for food, but not before the nausea caught up with me. As I burped up the soda, I felt more and more Vesuvial. 

By the time we arrived at our fancy restaurant, 10km away by a goddamned rickshaw, I was a mess. Our ubër perky waiter was trying to cheer me up but we were both fighting a losing battle. K & I split the famous chef sizzler but I couldn’t eat any of the delicious food in front of me. I drank my pineapple smoothie but my fizzing soda lake stomach wouldn’t have it. Up it had to come, along with anything I have ever eaten or drunk in this life.  

Thank heavens it was an upscale restaurant with a nice clean bathroom. That could have been worse.

It was bad enough that we were 10km away from our hotel and the security guard was trying to insist we had to take a rickshaw, no taxi. I appealed to the perkster, who continued to repeat that I was not a customer, I was his guest, that this guest needed a taxi NOW! His 12 year old manager used his ride app to get us back. 

It was a miserable night of not keeping down even sips of water, and I knew I had a 7 hour drive the next day. Anyone who has traveled with me knows I am an amazing vomitron, but this was a different league. My eyeballs were cured olives. I had to will myself to relax between bathroom visits. Where is all this water coming from? At what point am I spewing spinal fluid? Does this count as reverse waterboarding? 

I spouted like the Trevi fountain all night and into the morning when, weak as a newborn kitten, I was poured into our cab to take us to Mumbai, where I slept in a fever sleep (me: do I have a fever? K, touching my forehead: I would say so!) for almost the whole 7 hour + trip before being poured into a hotel in Mumbai. Fortunately or not, there were no longer any liquids inside me to lose on the drive. 

With some rehydration salts, a few spoonfuls of soup and a nights sleep, the fever was gone and I was no longer erupting. Still building strength but feeling much much better and enjoying the sights of Mumbai.