Christmas Day in Bijapur

After a six-hour bus trip we arrived in Solapur at 6h10 and caught a connecting bus to Bijapur.

Food – India has probably more vegetarian restaurants than the rest of the world combined, something that Craig and I were very thankful for.

In Bijapur we found Masala Dossa, a restaurant that’s tucked away in the market area and difficult to find. There was nothing glamorous about the restaurant, it was a two-storey place, the entrance hidden by a row of scooters – the main mode of transport in India and often leaden with a family of four. But the friendly service and good food made up for the simple surroundings.

I’m not a lover of hot, spicy food but it was here that I tried dossa, in this case Masala dossa, a sort-of pancake, made in a wok and filled with vegetables and spicy, of course. It is dipped into to or three small dishes of spicy sauces. It was only later that I learned that dossa is traditionally a breakfast dish.

Other dishes to watch out for are Uttapa – bread with coriander and onion.

Aloo tikka is mashed potato patties, spicy of course.

Craig on the other hand enjoyed thali’s, chapatti’s dipped into a combination of about five tiny dishes of vegetables, sauces and watery yoghurt. The best thing about this dish, apart from it being cheap, is that it is topped up as much as the diner can eat.

The market is a fascinating place of colour, people and cocky, handsome roosters. The market is an intoxicating place to take lots of pictures and purchase fruit.

After finding basic accommodation on a busy street we set off for Ibrahim Rauza, 1626AD, along a busy road and difficult to find.

Erected primarily as a mausoleum for his queen, Taj Sultana, but the king died before her, hence the name. It was built between 1580 - 1626AD by the 6^th sultan of Adil Shahi Dynasty, at a cost of Rs50,900 (Rs4000 = R650, R8,100).

The building is amazing with its striking symmetry of proportions, the exquisite modelling of the minarets, cupola, parapet and cornice. The bold calligraphy of Quranic texts on the walls is offset by delicate stone tracery painting of fanlights. The building has few equals among the buildings of Adil Shahi period.

There are six tombstones on the plinth, from east to west, Queen Taj Sultana, the mother of Ibrahim Adi Rauza, Ibrahim Adil Shah, his daughter Zohra Sultana and the fifth and sixth are his sons Darvesh and Sulaiman.

The original tombs lie in the same order in vaults beneath the floor of the chamber.

We were inundated by a noisy school group, spoiling the tranquillity of the place. Moving on we returned to the fortress walls and bastions that surround the old city and that we had passed on the way to the mausoleum. The school group caught up with us, once again spoiling the moment, the view and the space.

This section of wall has been renovated and holds Malik-e-Maidaan, the largest canon in the medieval world.

We wandered back to our hotel looking for a bottle store, which thankfully we eventually found, it being Christmas Eve.

At the hotel we climbed to the roof, a wasted space of concrete and old mattresses but with a panoramic view of the city. Against a cacophony of crows we tried to plan our itinerary while watching an exquisite sunset against a backdrop of muezzins calling the men to prayer. We could have been in the Middle East if it wasn’t for the Kingfisher beer, which is synonymous with India.

And once again we were drowned in Christmas festivities, a festival across the road, celebrating this pagan event. There was dancing, song and speeches, a traffic jam and lots of people. The following day I enquired about the event and the fact that Diwali had taken place only a few weeks before.

“They’re Roman Catholics,” I was told and when I asked about this I was told that India is a secular country, whatever that may mean.

We fell asleep listening to fireworks.