The Pilgrim City of Puri

Puri is described by travelers and guidebooks as a beach side pilgrim city, a great place to relax and recharge while soaking up the pilgrim atmosphere of this temple town. I have to keep in mind that I have spent recent months in the glorious chill out zones of the Philippines, Malaysia, Vietnam and Thailand because Puri was not so inspiring for me. In fact, if I hadn’t met a German who was intensely passionate about the Puri experience I fear I would have written Puri off as another Indian destination where I completely missed the point.

The beach at Puri is big and wide and the sand is an orangey-yellow. From the smell it seemed that one end of the beach was dedicated to sewage, while the other was an ‘enjoyment area’. Far from my experience of Goa’s beaches, the hawkers in Puri where trying to sell pearls instead of sarongs and you could experience a camel ride, further still, nobody was daring to go deeper than their knees in the ocean. The beach vibe was rather dodgy for me, too many men, too few foreigners, and a strange feeling in the air. I only dared to go down there to enjoy the sunset once I had a trusty companion.

Around Puri there are a number of classy sights to see. The Sun Temple in Konark is entirely outstanding, and I can say this without having even set a foot inside. I took a local bus from Puri to Konark, and in true Indian style they waited until the bus was bursting out of its rusty doors. I was lucky enough to get a seat of sorts, jammed on a bench in between the windshield, the gearstick and the driver. To begin with I thought the other passengers were having me on when they indicated I should put my feet in front of the driver’s seat, I was already jammed into the bus completely. It wasn’t until the driver refused to get into his seat until I put my feet where his should have been that I fully understood. We travelled for an hour with my feet under his feet while he pushed on the accelerator and brake. It was wholly hilarious, even funnier was the realization that under the accelerator there was a rust window so I could watch the cow plop covered road as we drove over it.

The Sun Temple grounds are manicured (and for Indian sites this is pretty special) and the building itself was quite astounding. From what I heard the insides are spectacular with incredible paintings and carvings and a huge working sundial. I, unfortunately, arrived too late in the afternoon to enjoy both the inside and outside so I squirreled away my 200 rupee entrance fee and took a zillion photos of the grounds instead.

My bus ride home was less eventful, I did chase the bus down through a field and down a street before it would stop for me, and a young boy gave up his seat for me, but aside from that not much happened on the hour long cramped journey home.

I took a peddle power rickshaw around the city on a tour of the temples, and climbed to the top of the public library to catch a glimpse inside the famous Jagannath temple that non-Hindus cannot enter. I rode the bus out to the village of Raghurajpur, famous for its local artists. The village was pretty special, all the buildings were decorated with traditional paintings, everyone claimed to be an artist and all the kids wanted their pictures taken.

So after a rather uninspiring couple of days of seeing cool things but not really feeling them my new friend took me by the hand and showed me the Puri that he saw. We started with a breakfast of Upmar, something I had never tried and it turned out to be spectacularly good, then to a beach resort to sit in a gazebo and listen to the waves. After lunch we chilled some more and then explored the beach, caught a rickshaw into the city centre and explored the Jugannath markets by night, an entirely different fast paced experience than during the sweltering day. We ate traditional Orissa sweets, special drinks and pastries, and took in all the flashing lights and buzzing atmosphere. It was possibly the best note to leave on. The next morning I flew to Hyderabad in preparation for a wedding.