There was already my homestay guest, Marc (from Haute Savoie) who wanted to go trekking. Marc read about Mountain Ridge in the LP and decided that a little peace and quiet would make a pleasant change from city noise. A young English couple phone to say that they would like to see the countryside: they were staying in a Lal Ghat hotel. It was arranged that they should join us the next morning, so at 9:45 they (Olympia and Paul) arrived in our friend Mohamed Sadiq’s rickshaw. We all sat down to coffee and Olympia asked if she could have some toast and homemade jam.
I prefer to employ a tribal guide for treks. (There are various reasons for this:- 1] It makes a ‘bridge’ between the visitor and the local tribal villagers, 2] I am attempting to encourage the tribal people to try new forms of work, 3] It is only right that the villagers, rather than city folk, should earn money from visits to their area, and 4] the tribal guides know the routes or even if they don’t, they have an instinct for the terrain, which cuts down the chances of anyone getting hurt or lost.) So Kaililal Gametti was waiting for us to get going.
Leaving Mountain Ridge, we walked across a field and round a hillock to the main road, enroute for the village of Nai, over the far side of the valley. Nai is a quaint and typical Mewari village with lovely old havelis all in white or cool pastel shades. A few other buildings are built of rustic stone, with pantiles on the roofs. We threaded our way through the narrow alleyways, greeting here and there, and at one point we passed a school………I say ‘passed’, but in fact we were almost kidnapped by the teachers and virtually made to sit down in the headmistress’s study (I was once more used to occupying the corner of such offices, and still retain a slightly fearful respect of them). Following tea and a lot of questions, we escaped and continued through Nai and out the other side.
A straight, flat two kilometre stretch of lane led us past umpteen boisterously friendly children and some rather more peaceful brick kilns until we arrived at the southern end of Bujra Mountain. Ever the democrat and in the true spirit of maintaining the principle of avoiding creating human ’sheep tracks’, I suggested the visitors might like to decide which way to go. Left, to Nandeshwarji, straight ahead over the mountain pass to a tribal settlement, or right………up the mountain. Olympia (not backward in coming forward) expressed an interest in the mountain walk so that was decided.
The ascent involved a degree of scrabbling over scree, and a certain amount of huffing and puffing, but, as one does when attaining any summit, we felt valiant when we arrived at the ridge. Glorious views stretched all around; patchwork fields, toy villages, the tossed, golden-brown duvet that was the ranks of bone-dry Arawalli Hills, and to the east, the sheen of Lake Pichola with the City Palace fronting the Old City of Udaipur.
The climb appears fairly straightforward from a distance and indeed it isn’t hard for the sure-footed, but there are patches that require careful footwork and balance. A dry-stone wall runs right along the knife-edge ridge and occasionally the best way is to actually teeter along the top of the wall for a short stretch. But overall, the trek is not overly challenging.
Trekking with a small group is a good way of getting to know other people – there seems to be something very telling about how individuals meet any sort of endurance test. Do they moan, or do they go along cheerfully? Do they lag behind or do they shoot ahead regardless – or do they lead but hang back for the slower ones? Also, the freedom and the fresh air seems to promote the possibility of discussing more personal topics………….we discussed all sorts of issues as we strolled over the easier parts, becoming somewhat quieter when we were forced to concentrate on obstacles.
Kaililal, surefooted in his flipflops led on, occasionally helping one of us over a tricky patch. We eventually reached the far end of the ridge and began our descent which although it appeared a smooth, grassy slope, was actually slightly tricky, with boulders and scree in the wrong places.
Near the base was a group of ladies in brilliant saris engaged in laying a track. At this moment they were eating their tiffin and chatting. I seized the oportunity to get some breath back (without displaying this need) by sitting down with them for a few moments and I cadged a couple of chapattis. The ladies thought it hilarious that these foreigners could want their leftovers, but we had finished our packed lunch some time before and had since worked up an apetite.
A little further on, the route we took led us down a boulder-strewn slope that becomes a tumbling waterfall during the monsoon. Here we encountered Rattan Bhai and Dolli Bhai who were clambering up the slope. Both parties were glad of the excuse to share some banter for a few moments whilst we regained our breath.
After that it was a reasonably straightforward job of finding the lane to Bujra village and from thereon following the dry riverbed back to Sisarma – and Mountain Ridge.
14th Feb 2008
After a one-day gap, Marc was raring to go up another ridge. This time we chose Arnia Magra so we got on our mountain bikes (Marc’s bike had a slipping chain and a too-low seat – I must get it fixed; my bike was fast and sleek). We left our bikes by a chaiwallah in the hamlet of Nora and cntinued the remaining one kilometre to the base of Arnia Magra.
This is a long serrated ridge that separates two valleys; the broad valley to the east which contains the spread out tribal community of Nayakhera, and the scenic valley to the west, where lies the tiny settlement of Nandeshwarji, with its lovely temple and its lake, and, high up on the opposite hill, a tank that maintains the pressure of water coming to Udaipur from the far off dam at Manasi Vakal.
The main road from Udaipur to Jharol skirts the northern tip of the ridge and runs along the western base of it. This ridge is just a few kilometres to the southwest of Udaipur and provides spectacular views of Nandeshwarji Lake and the glorious surrounding countryside. To the north, we could see the Monsoon Palace and the edge of Udaipur in the distance. The ridge is somewhat serrated; the first part being less and the latter part being more extreme in its ups and downs.
As trekking goes, this ridge is not too taxing for those who are not regular trekkers. We scrabbled up just opposite Nandeshwarji’s old Shiva temple and it was a bit of a ducking and diving joj to reach the ridge, but when up there, there is scant tree growth on the ridge, and since many of the prevalent indigenous trees in the mountains are thorny, a relatively treeless mountain makes for a simple trek.
The trek got progressively tougher as we went along and eventually we were faced with a choice of going up a mean-looking slope or finding a way down.
We decided to descend. There was a goat-track down the eastern side and we slithered down that until the base. I espied a temple in the not-too-far distance, surrounded by a small settlement, so we made for that in search of water. We actually fared rather better. Next to the temple was a farm, and on that farm there were two oxen (eey-iy-eey-iy-oh), turning a crushing wheel.
Sugar cane was being turned into juice and we were treated to a large jugful. Thanking the farmer’s family for their hospitality, we trotted off refreshed to collect our bikes and cycled back to Sisarma.
29th February 2008
Lisa, a young New Yorker (who is studying Hindi in Jaipur) and her Italian boyfriend Gianmario, expressed an interest to go trekking so off we set to the cave temple at Kamleshwarji. This is just the other side of Banki-ka-Magra (mountain) from Mountain Ridge, but the route is not direct as one has to go round the mountain to get there.
It was rather a warm day with just a hint of a breeze, but we strolled along anyway – Kaililal (our guide) striding as usual a few paces ahead. Much of the track there is bounded by the rise of Banki-ka-Magra to the left and fields to the right, with lovely views across the Naya Khera valley. Eventually we reached the footpath that leads to the temple; the footpath straddles a tiny babbling brook of cool, fresh water and passes through a lush grove of shady bamboos.
Kamleshwarji cave temple is such a cute place. A local tribesman claims to have dreamt that there was natural shrine deep in the hillside and so he dug through until he found a rock with three (vaguely) head-like protuberances – the heads resembling those of cobras, a symbol of Lord Shiva.
The surrounding area is beautifully and tastefully landscaped with trees and luxuriant shrubs; the paths are of smooth, clean mud. Water pours from a pipe that comes from who knows where, since there is only a high mountain behind it; the water drops down into a tadpole-filled brook that embues the place with an oasis-like ambience. The resident ‘boppa’ (tribal priest) offered us ganja which we all declined, and then tea which we all accepted. A pair of pretty tribal girls were washing and clening things by the stream and would occasionally study us when they thought we weren’t looking. It was such a tranquil spot that even for those who are not spiritually inclined, there is a sense of holiness about the place, and the atmosphere is so relaxed, ganja smoke apart, that one could easily lounge around there all day.
Eventually however we left and plodded off along a track towards Naya Khera, meeting a country lane that would take us home. It was getting rather too warm and so when we saw a rickshaw chugging towards us along this almost deserted lane we flagged it down and clambered in. It was Friday and Mahmoud the driver was just returning from the little mosque in Naya Khera so we were taken back to Sisarma and some chilled lemonade at Mountain Ridge.
