A thump-thump-thump on the front door of our hotel room woke me from a sound dreamy sleep. I'd heard lions' roars all night from the feline rehabilitation center two kilometers away. The growl at the front door was the room service boy bringing our bed-tea at 6 in the morning. It was still pitch black outside as I put on every piece of clothing I have in order to brave the morning cold. Today we'd go for a lion safari in Sasan Gir. The day before we'd seen lions in a special compound; today we hoped to see them roaming in the wild.
Even through all my clothes the wind whipped the cold air through them and left me huddled and shivering in the back of the open jeep. Our driver and our guide were wisely wrapped in yards of cloth, looking like living Egyptian mummies. The driver careened around the savanna with one hand, uh, actually one stump, on the wheel. We drove along scanning the underbrush in vain for a lion. The closest we came was to see paw prints in the dust on the road and to hear the whooping noise of monkeys warning the deer about the approach of a lion.
We saw hundreds of barking deer (whose cries the little boy with us imitated to perfection), monkeys and birds, but no lions were seen on this safari. We returned to the hotel, demonstrated our bikes to the staff and rode off towards Junagadh and the end of our journey in Gujarat. The wind blew us over the hills around the Sasan Gir preserve. Towards the middle of the day we changed direction and headed into the wind for our last kilometers through primitive villages. One of the last ones before our final destination was surrounded by an imposing medieval wall. There we stopped for a drink and had an unusual experience.
The goofy shopkeep tried to short-change me. He told me the price of the goods purchased, took my money and gave me change for a smaller bill. When I asked for the remainder he gave me more but still shorted me five rupees. I tired of his absurd little game and walked off. He was five rupees (12 cents) richer. Had this been a common occurrence? Had we been fleeced before and been blissfully ignorant? I didn't thing so. And what if we had? \--certainly it wasn't significant to us. Later we'd learn that we had been in greater danger than losing a few rupees.
I read in a Bombay publication how several hundred people each year are attacked by lions in the area we cycled through. Had we been attacked it would have been a unique way to go. Arriving in Junagadh we sought lodging, ending up at the Hotel Relief. It was a relief. A relaxed atmosphere, big room in the center of town and helpful staff would make our stay a restful one. One dramatic moment did occur there. The hotel owner was out when we took our bikes and bags to be shipped to Bombay. From there we'd mount the next part of our journey.
Unfortunately the owner's father and a flunky had not been party to our discussion about this logistic. The two thought we were skipping town without paying and caused a big scene. The owner was all apologies when we saw him later. I just laughed it off. Junagadh was a big surprise. I'd expected a horrible little dumpy provincial capital and was instead treated to one of the more livable towns we'd visited. The town's buildings are styled with a influence from Europe. The local *nawab* had been a collaborator with the colonialists and had profited substantially from that relationship. As a result he had an impressive castle in the center of town that now serves as a museum of his furnishings.
The *nawab* fled India to Pakistan during Partition, leaving everything behind. His artifacts on display at the musem were fantastic. They included several lion-themed chairs and sofas fashioned from solid silver. The huge pieces of furniture each must have weighed more than a Buick. He'd been conscious of the natural history of the area and taken care to preserve the Asiatic lion. It was he who established the reserve at Sasan Gir and it was because of him that there are several hundred lions left. Another highlight of the town established by the *nawab* was the zoo. I'd been ready to see a sad little compound full of iron cages and sick looking animals.
What we found instead was a huge zoo with immaculately maintained grounds, large cages with natural settings for the animals and a varied selection of species. The best collection was the cats. Slinky spotted leopards paced their cages, powerful tigers eyed tasty looking schoolchildren and sleepy looking Asian lions hung about looking regal. My favorite was the white tigers. These phenomenally looking beasts purred so loudly my body vibrated. Thousands of years before the last *nawab* ruler departed Junagadh, Emperor Ashoka ruled India. One of his long-lasting legacies would be his edicts. They were carved on rocks as a reminder to all.
A huge boulder just outside the town still carry his words that promote the spread of the Buddhist faith. When we finally left Junagadh we had train problems. This time our sleeper car did not exist. Instead we were crammed together with eight others into a squalid second-class sleeper. Finally we baksheeshed the conductor to find more suitable berths. Andy and I ended up in separate compartments. Andy shared his with the train guards, one of whom slept with his Uzi under his pillow.