It’s hot and dry in Gujarat, but Stephen McClarence discovers a slice of real Indian life.
First things first. Gujarat, the far-west outpost of India on the shores of the Arabian Sea, is a “dry” state, with strict alcohol prohibition laws. So, moments after touching down from Britain, my wife Clare and I join the queue at the airport counter issuing tourist liquor permits (Condition No 6: The permit holder shall not get drunk in any public place).
Permits in hand, we join another queue at a government liquor store. In front of us, three Asian men are ordering crates of beer. “Haven’t had a drink for three days,” says the youngest of them, nattily dressed in singlet and shorts. Unexpectedly, he has a strong Welsh accent. I mention this to him. “Well I would, wouldn’t I?” he says. “We’re from Cardiff, over here for a family wedding. It’ll be orange juice when this lot’s gone.”
Gujarat is the home-state of many British Indians, with the Patel community the best-known of them. It’s an appealing, friendly, relaxing state, next-door to Rajasthan, whose vast forts and plush palaces lure crowds of tourists. Gujarat is much less visited, despite boasting plenty of places worth a long detour.
Among the most famous of them is the tenth-century Modhera sun temple, with its carvings of elephants, Hindu gods and sexual athletes. Even more startling are the Jain temples at Palitana – around 1,000 of them, gleaming white on a hilltop. Whole villages of pilgrims walk hundreds of miles to see them, and still have enough energy to climb the 3,500 steps to the top of the hill. A little further south, Sasan Gir national park is the last home of the Asiatic lion (just 400 survive).
