Bikes needed some repairs including mine. Jayanti bhai, a third generation mechanic along with his son ketan did the magic while we admired their skills and the vintage bikes they were restoring.

Finally at 3 p.m. we were wandering across Gujarat. 13 (and one pillion) riders on RE's and a madman with spirit, Smit and wife Farida on a Pulsar. We hit the road outbound Ahmedabad for Lothal at around 3 in the afternoon with Amol leading the way. Getting out of Ahmedabad, thumping collectively and then onto the highway. This small stretch was an almost orgasmic relief after the last two days. A two-laned stretch with rice fields all around and almost no traffic. Then we turned onto SH-1 which was good in certain sections and bad in others. A peculiar aspect of this part of Gujarat was the almost constant presence of a line of thorn trees on both sides of the road and for once I was reminded of the hedgerows of England of which Gerald Durrel writes so evocatively. Finally, 60 odd kilometers and 2 hours after setting out, we were at Lothal.

Lothal owes its renown to a dock which is believed to be the oldest in the world. The dock is brick-lined and used to have it's own canal and lock. Today of course, Lothal is landlocked and the dock seems to have been docked in history.

We spent an amazing time in Lothal, wandering over and around the excavated ruins and trying to play A R Cunningham while picturising what this area would have looked like in the Indus Valley days. History however did seem to seep out of every inch of the ground. The excavated ruins with bricks unlike any I have ever seen, the pottery fragments all around and even the
grasses all around. It was befitting that we see a dinosaur, so the last thing we saw in the failing
light was a flock of flamingoes against the setting sun!

The plan for the evening was not a hotel, a bar, a hot bath and TV. Not of course when the ride was billed as an exodus.

After Lothal at around 7 in the evening we had a choice of hunting out an old fort or camping in a village. So while Histasp and Amol ventured out in search of the fort, Gaurav set out in search of a village, with Vaibhav and me in company. The rest of the group parked their bikes on the road and counted the stars.

Just 10 odd kilometers of riding brought all three of us to a small village (with a main street that was dark but for our headlights), seemingly asleep at 7 in the evening. Gaurav got busy exercising his charm in Gujarati. Meanwhile I was keen to make some friends so I entered a house with a huge cowdung paved courtyard under the usual guise of asking for a drink of water. Of course I did not know Gujarati but still I could slake my thirst and get checked out by a couple of bonny maidens!

By the time I had said my "shukriyas" and "dhanyavads" and come to the village's main street Gaurav was back with the news that he had found a place where we could sleep and also found a family willing to cook for us!

Gaurav left to guide the others and since the villagers anyway seemed very safe (a gentleman from the house I had gone to water for was contentedly puffing away on one of my cigarettes by now) me and Vaibhav decided to check out our host's dwelling.

A small walk and just one turn of the street and we were at the place. Small, but immaculately clean with a courtyard where two cows and a calf were viewing the world with bovine equanimity. In no time at all we were across the courtyard and the verandah and into the house, enjoying a Beedi( Hand made cigarette) in its main room.

The room seemed more like a stainless steel shop than the bedroom of a villager's home! There were plates, katoris, tumblers, ladles and whatnot, all of steel arranged in cupboards and on racks across the wall.

Meanwhile the rest had joined us and we all trooped to the house of Bhagwan bhai, where we were to sleep. While our food was being prepared, everyone got down to the serious business of making friends. Some of us tried our hands at smoking a local pipe while Gaurav and Smit talked up our host.

Unable to get a grasp of the conversation (I do not understand Gujarati) I returned back to see how the food was being cooked. And then followed some really slow moments. Lazed on a Charpoy among the cows with the smell of woodsmoke slowing my thoughts, wondering
why the stars are so bright when the skies are not the city's. Petted the cows and played with the calf (incidentally all three are of a breed called Kathiawadi, hardy cattle with distinctly drooping ears) which seemed as curious as a good tempered dog all the while noting the bustle as around 4-5 people were getting our food together.

Thereafter, all of us tucked into thalis of simple Gujarati food, Rotis, Dal and Potato Curry. Salad was of course raw onion and dessert a generous helping of Jaggery. And well, of course there was the Buttermilk to wash it all down with. As much as one could drink of it!

Eating the rustic fare sitting in the courtyard, viewed by the calf which was following my every
movement through its large limpid eyes I wondered yet again, why does one live in the city's complexities when one could live a life as simple as this?

Dinner over, it was time for a snapping up our hosts and then proceeding to the place where we were to sleep. Of course I said a special goodbye to my friend the calf.




Next...
A jeep trail was our road, traversing through tall golden grasses on both sides from where herds of Black Buck gazed at us in different degrees of alertness...(read on)


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