Why Gujarat?

In Ahmedabad

Before and after our 8 week journey through Gujarat, Daman, and Diu, many people asked us why we chose to visit the region.

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In Ahmedabad

Here is my answer.

Compared with other places in India (for example: Agra, Rajasthan, Kerala, Kashmir, the Himalayas, and Goa), Gujarat is relatively unvisited by Indian and foreign tourists. We saw no more than about twelve foreigners during our eight weeks in Gujarat and its two former Portuguese enclaves. Most of those whom we saw were in Diu. As I enjoy exploring places less-visited, Gujarat appealed to me.

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In Ahmedabad

Another reason for visiting Gujarat is my wife’s heritage. Her father’s family originated in Gujarat, and her mother’s in formerly independent Kutch, now a part of the State of Gujarat. Lopa and I had never visited either of these places.

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In Ahmedabad

Yet another reason for our trip was to see the two former colonies of Portugal: Daman and Diu. India is dotted around with territories that remained in foreign hands long after Independence in 1947. We had already been to Pondicherry and Mahé, both formerly French Colonies, and Goa, which was capital of Portugal’s Indian Ocean empire. Each of these places retain a colonial European charm of their own despite having been part of India for several decades. We wanted to discover what is left of the Portuguese influence in Daman and Diu, and we were not disappointed.

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In Ahmedabad

Would I recommend others to visit Gujarat, Daman, and Diu?

My answer is an unqualified YES!

The region is rich in historic sights and history, handiwork, folk traditions. There are unspoilt beaches. The people are friendly and welcoming. Places are well-connected by public transport and accomodation is good. What more could you want?

Find out more by reading my book!

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Available on KINDLE, click H E R E

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To get the paperback, click H E R E

Missing the bus

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We left our hotel in Porbandar before dawn and joined people waiting in the darkness at a ticket agency on MG Road. Several coaches were waiting nearby, but not ours. Two of them left, partially filled with passengers. Soon after they had gone, a man with baggage appeared. He had just missed one of the buses that we saw departing. The woman manning the desk at the agency hailed a passing autorickshaw, and then hurried the late passenger into it before making a ‘phone call to the driver of the bus that had gone. She told him to wait for the auto to catch up with the bus so that the tardy person could embark. I could not imagine this happening at London’s Victoria Coach Station.

Our bus arrived. It was the same model as the one in which we had travelled from Junagadh. Moments before the driver climbed into his seat, a uniformed policeman entered the bus and placed two garlands with yellow flowers close to the steering wheel. Then, he disappeared on his motorcycle. The driver boarded. Before starting the engine, he arranged one of the garlands on two hooks above the centre of the windscreen so that it was draped around the rear-view mirror, and he placed the other around a small Hindu idol housed in a transparent Perspex box on the centre of the dashboard. Finally, he lit two agarbatti, which he stuck in a holder near the deity. A piece of plastic was stuck above the central rear-view mirror. It had words in Urdu script written on it. A sign behind the driver’s seat and facing the passengers was written in Gujarati script. My wife read this, and then told me that the words on it expressed (in Urdu transliterated into Gujarati script) Islamic sentiments of good intent. This bus was owned by the same people who operated the bus on which we had travelled from Junagadh, a Muslim family. Our driver was Hindu. The first aid box on the bus looked familiar. It was dirty and broken and hung at an odd angle from one of its hooks above the driver’s seat. When I saw this …

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Read more about Adam Yamey’s adventures and discoveries in Gujarat, Daman, and Diu, either in a lovely paperback (buy a copy HERE) or on your Kindle (download a copy HERE )

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Beaches, camels, dhows, and …

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A view from Vijay Vilas Palace near Mandvi

Mandvi is a small but significant seaport on the coast of Kutch. Formerly an independent kingdom, Kutch is now part of Gujarat State.

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Here are some brief excerpts about Mandvi from Adam Yamey’s paperback book “Travels through Gujarat, Daman, and Diu” (click here: NOW! )

ALSO available on KINDLE as “Travelling through Gujarat, Daman, and Diu” ( click here: HERE ! )

“After traversing a long multi-arched bridge across the wide mouth of the River Rukmavathi, we entered Mandvi. It has a population slightly over fifty thousand. It is no larger than many villages elsewhere in India but is an important centre with a seaport. We passed a circular stone bastion and a stretch of the old city walls attached to it before entering the old city through a lovely, old, narrow stone archway. Cowpats, to be used as fuel, were drying on its walls. Much of the rest of Mandvi’s once extensive fortifications have been destroyed in recent years.”

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Cow dung drying on the remains of the city walls of Mandvi

“The bazaar is a tangled warren of narrow, smooth-surfaced lanes lined with shops and some venerable, picturesque buildings. The older buildings are embellished with verandas and upper-storey terraces and much nicely carved woodwork.”

“Numerous motorbikes and scooters wove their way through the crowds of pedestrians, who ambled along paying little or no heed to the motorised two-wheelers, whose owners sounded their horns unceasingly.”

“During our subsequent travels in Gujarat, we began to get used to mingling with vehicles that moved through bazaars, getting so close to us that we were almost hit by them. That we were never harmed by them is a testament to the skill of their drivers.”

“I managed to become detached from my companions and became quite lost in this picturesque environment because I was too busy taking photographs…”

“…Luckily, I knew the name of the shop, to which the others were heading. A kindly shop owner sent his shop assistant to lead me to the shop, where I was supposed to be.”

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“I noticed a plastic building shaped like a dome. Standing on the shore, it reminded me of the hemispherical concrete bunkers that the Stalinist dictator Enver Hoxha built all over Albania. This one had no defensive purpose. It was the fishermen’s office. Across the almost dried up mouth of the river on the opposite bank, we could see the large wooden boats being constructed in Mandvi’s ship yards.”

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“Mandvi is well-known for its production of wooden dhows, which are sold to, and used in, the Arabian Gulf, mainly Dubai. The owner of one of the yards, whom we saw seated in a deck-chair, informed us that the timber for the boats is imported from Malaysia. It is not teak, but the highly durable and water-resistant sal wood (Shorea robusta).”

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“After our shopping expedition, we drove to the nearby sandy Mandvi Beach by the Arabian Sea. We walked passed many flimsy-looking stalls and huts selling snacks and knick-knacks. Near these, there were horses and tattooed camels available for hire to visitors.”

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“J drove us to the Shri Ambe Dham Mandir … Next to the mandir (temple), there is an alcove containing a greater than life-size model depicting Mother India wearing a gold-coloured crown and a robe (coloured orange, white and green) holding the National Flag of India. Behind her, there is a large map of India showing all of India’s states labelled in Gujarati script. Models of nine men wearing various Indian national costumes (including Sikh and Muslim) stand around the female figure.”

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If you have enjoyed these excerpts, then read much more about Gujarat, Daman, and Diu by clicking:

HERE (for paperback)

HERE (for KINDLE)

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Get into Gujarat

GUJ KIND COVER

An exciting new account of travelling in today’s Gujarat is now available on Kindle:

To download a copy, click:

HERE

Almost wherever you live, you are bound to have met members of the Gujarati diaspora. Yet, Gujarat in western India, where they originated, is hardly known or visited by foreign and Indian tourists.

Adam Yamey’s richly illustrated book describes his travels through Gujarat and two former Portuguese colonies, Daman, and Diu, with his wife. Her knowledge of Gujarati allowed the travellers to speak with locals and gain their insightful views about Gujarat’s past, present, and future.

Join Adam and his wife in their adventures through the land where Mahatma Gandhi was born and educated. Meet the people and discover places whose beauty rivals the better-known sights of India.

Junagadh

PS: A paperback version will be available soon

The overloaded cab

Excerpt from “Travels through Gujarat, Daman, and Diu“, soon to be published in paperback by Adam Yamey, NOW available as a Kindle with the title “TRAVELLING THROUGH GUJARAT, DAMAN, & DIU” ( buy your copy: here!)

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Water gate in Moti Daman

A kind man driving a three-wheeler van gave us a lift from the tea stall to the gate where we had begun our walk in Moti Daman. Speaking in Gujarati, in which my wife is fluent, he told us to wait for an auto where he dropped us. The sun was setting, and there was not much traffic. Eventually, an auto already carrying four large passengers stopped to pick us up. Two of the passengers moved to the front of the vehicle and squatted hazardously on either side of the driver, and we squeezed onto the narrow passenger seat next to the other two people. After a short distance, we stopped. The two men squatting beside the driver disembarked and walked ahead of us. We drove on, weaving our way around the barriers of a police check post, and then stopping again when we had passed out of sight of it. The two men, who had disembarked, retrieved their positions beside the driver, and we continued across the river to Nani Daman. The driver explained that the two men had had to walk ahead of us past the check point in order that the auto would not be stopped by the police because of being overloaded.

We disembarked at the bus stand and paid a small fare. We saw many taxis parked there. Painted yellow and black, they were old Ambassador vehicles, just like the taxis used to be in Bombay many years ago …

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Ambassador taxis in Nani Daman

A poet of Gujarat

Another excerpt from “Travels through Gujarat, Daman, and Diu“, soon to be published by Adam Yamey:

[In JUNAGADH]

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We went from the station to a busy road that borders the eastern edge of an almost circular lake named in honour of Narsinh Mehta (1414-81). He was a poet of Gujarat, who is revered like a saint. Born in Talaja (near Bhavnagar), he moved to Junagadh, where he lived until just before he died (probably in the town of Mangrol). We had come here to reserve coach seats at the agency that specialised in journeys to our next destination. We had tiny cups of tea nearby, before visiting a remarkable building…

… Without being asked, our driver took us to another of Junagadh’s landmarks, the Narsinh Mehta Choro. This place is built on the site where, during the 15^th century, the poet/saint Narsinh Mehta used to conduct bhajan singing, meetings, and religious discourses. The compound, entered from the street via an archway, contains a small Hindu temple, another religious shrine, and a museum. The latter illustrates Mehta’s life with a series of panels. Most of them have text in Gujarati.

Here is a small sample of Mehta’s poetry, translated by Sachin Ketkar, copied from his website:

In this entire universe, you alone exist, Shri Hari,

Yet, in infinite forms you seem to be!

You are the divine in the human flesh,

The fire you become among the elements,

In the void, you become the Word, which the Vedas laud!

In this entire universe, you alone exist, Shri Hari,

Yet, in infinite forms you seem to be!

O Sustainer of the Earth! You are the wind!

You are the water and you are the Earth!

You are also the outstretched tree blossoming in the sky!

In this entire universe, you alone exist, Shri Hari,

Yet, in infinite forms you seem to be!

(SEE: https://sachinketkar.webs.com/narsinhmehta.htm):

A deserted palace…

SIHOR was the capital of the Gohil Rajputs until the 18th century. They ruled what was to become the Princely State of Bhavnagar. In the 18th century, the capital was shifted to Bhavnagar, which was established on a site 20 kilometers east of Sihor.

Apart from being a delightful town, Sihor contains the venerable remains of the former darbagadh (the royal palace).

Here are some photographs of this fabulous palace, which we visited courtesy of the (former) royal family, who still own it.

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If you wish to know more about it, you should read my forthcoming book:

“TRAVELS THROUGH GUJARAT, DAMAN, and DIU”

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Lovely setting

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Fine frescos

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Authentic unspoilt interiors

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Craftsmanship

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Wonderful woodwork

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Amazing artwork

Books beneath a bridge

Another excerpt from

“Travels in Gujarat, Daman, and Diu” by Adam Yamey

To be published very soon!

We were in Ahmedabad when…

… we passed the now disused Indian Picture House, a cinema, and reached the bridge that carries Gandhi Road over Tankshal.

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The road beneath the bridge is lined with booksellers’ stalls piled high with textbooks.

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There are also bookshops around the bridge in yards leading off Tankshal Road. Outside their premises, there are tables which are overflowing with books, new and used. These precarious piles of books reminded me of my favourite bookshop in Bangalore, Mr Shanbag’s Premier Bookshop, which closed some years ago. In that great establishment, only the foolhardy customer would risk creating an avalanche of books by attempting to extricate a book from the piles of volumes reaching from the floor to the high ceiling.

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We visited Mahajan Book Depot, where we had been told books in English were available. Its amiable owner, a descendant of the shop’s founder told us that his was the oldest bookstore in Ahmedabad. His great-grandfather established it in 1891. His stock of books in English was not great, but I found one, a history book, which I purchased.

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Explore Gujarat soon…

Good news!

Kutch Mandvi

I am awaiting the first proof copy of my new paperback “Travels through Gujarat, Daman, and Diu”. Soon, I will also upload a Kindle version of the book.

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Baroda (Vadodara)

To whet your appetite, here is a list of places that get a mention in the book.

Junagadh

The places listed are where we managed to explore to a greater or lesser extent during our two-month long trip to this part of western India:

Nagoya

Nagoa Beach, Diu

Adalaj, Ahmedabad, Alang, Baroda (Varodara), Bhavnagar, Bhuj, Bombay, Borsad, Champaner, Daman, Devka Beach, Diu, Durgapur, Fudam, Godhra, Gondal, Halol, Jetpur, Jinalaya Temple, Junagadh, Kandla, Keshod, Khamabalida Caves, Kutch Mandvi, Nagoa Beach, Pavagadh, Porbandar, Rajkot, Rajula, Sandipani, Sanjan, Sarkhej, Sevasi, Sihor, Silvassa, Simbor, Somnath, Talaja, Udvada, Una, Vapi, Varodara (Baroda), Veraval, Virpur.

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Sihor

Indian Independence Day

Gandhi in Porbandar

On the 15^th of August 1947, India won its independence from the British Empire. Independence was achieved through the efforts of many men and women in the Indian sub-continent. The best-known of these is a Gujarati born in Porbandar, MK Gandhi, later known as the Mahatma.

Hyderabad, 2012

At the precise instant when India became independent, moments after the 14^th of August had ended, Gujarat was still divided into many so-called Princely States, and the small enclaves of Daman and Diu were still Portuguese colonies. Through the efforts of the Gujarati Sardar Vallabhai Patel, the more than 500 Princely States of India were ‘encouraged’ to give up their autonomy to become integrated into the newly independent India. Daman and Diu only became part of India in 1961.

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Sardar Vallabhai Patel in Ahmedabad

Independence Day is celebrated throughout India. I have been in India several times on the 15^{t h} of August and been privileged to watch flag-raising ceremonies that celebrate the important day when after centuries of foreign rule, the people of India were at last ruling themselves. Of these celebratory occasions, one stands out in my memory.

Back in 2008, we were travelling through northern Kerala on the 15^th of August when I spotted a rural school amidst the palm trees close to the sea. The outer walls of the school were covered with colourful paintings including a map of India. We stopped so that I could take photographs of the pictures.

Doorway in the house where Gandhi was born, Porbandar

When I got out of our car, a teacher invited the three of us to enter the school where Independence Day celebrations were being held. We walked into a courtyard filled with school children standing in rows. The teacher invited us to join the school’s director and other teachers on a podium. Flower garlands were draped around our necks.

The director gave a speech and then introduced me as a “special guest from England”. Totally unprepared, I was then asked to address some words to the assembled school and its staff. Although I say so myself, I believe that I was able to improvise a short speech suitable for the occasion.

I felt honoured that I had been invited to give this speech, and gratified when the pupils mobbed me to shake my hands and even to take pictures of me.

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