Nightmare or Adventure? A Journey to Garhi Padhawali

Travel often brings surprises—sometimes delightful, other times daunting. My recent escapade to Garhi Padhawali, a lesser-known yet historically significant site near Gwalior, was a mix of both. It started with high hopes of exploration but unfolded as an adventure packed with lessons, challenges, and a generous dose of humanity.

The Beginning: A Hastily Planned Journey

While in Gwalior, I searched for nearby destinations to explore. Two options popped up: Orchha and Garhi Padhawali. Being pressed for time, I chose the latter, intrigued by its rich history and architectural marvels. In hindsight, my decision was rushed. A piece of advice for fellow travelers: savor the journey, not just the destination. Immerse yourself in the local culture, food, and atmosphere instead of hastening from one place to another.

Armed with minimal information gleaned from the internet, a camping tent, and a sleeping bag, I set out, trusting fate to guide me. Little did I know, this trip would test my patience, courage, and adaptability.

The Road to Nurabad: A Bus Ride and a Helpful Stranger

My journey began with a bus ride to Nurabad, a midway point between Gwalior and Morena. It was 4 PM when I boarded the bus, hopeful and slightly apprehensive. Reaching Nurabad around 5 PM, I was greeted with unsettling news: there were no more buses to Garhi Padhawali for the day. I had to rely on hitchhiking—a prospect both exciting and nerve-wracking.

After 45 minutes of waiting, a man named Shera Yadav stopped on his Bajaj Pulsar. His demeanor was kind, but his warnings were chilling. He shared stories about the area’s infamous land mafia and advised me to pretend I was a local from Morena to avoid suspicion. Despite his concerns, he offered me a ride for part of the journey, leaving me 12 km short of my destination.

The Lonely Path: Struggles and Strangers

With nightfall approaching, I found myself on an under-construction road with minimal traffic. Anxiety crept in as the realization of my isolation grew. Around 7 PM, a tractor trolley appeared, and its driver kindly let me ride in the back. While the ride eased my nerves momentarily, it didn’t take me all the way. I was left with another 10 km to cover.

Next, a pickup driver offered assistance but could only take me 2 km further. Sensing my desperation, he suggested I pay ₹150 for fuel, and he would drop me at Garhi Padhawali. Reluctantly, I agreed. On the way, we discussed my predicament, and his growing concern mirrored my own. He revealed that there were no accommodations nearby, warning me of the area’s dangers.

Arriving at Garhi Padhawali: A Guard and a Saint

By the time I reached Garhi Padhawali, it was well into the night. The archaeological site’s guard intercepted me, questioning my intentions. I explained my situation, and the site in-charge, Mr. Meena, stepped in. Despite his initial skepticism, he decided to help. First, he took me to an MP Tourism guest house, but they refused to accommodate me, citing my status as a stranger.

Determined to assist, the guard led me to the kutia (hermitage) of a local saint, known as Baba of Jugaljodi Hanumanji. Baba welcomed me warmly, offering me a place to sleep and a meal. Though I couldn’t understand their local dialect fully, their actions spoke volumes about their kindness.

A Meal to Remember: Chapati, Pickle, and Jaggery

Baba served me a thick chapati (tikkar) with mango pickle and jaggery. It was a simple meal, yet it felt like a feast after the day’s ordeals. Exhausted but grateful, I called my parents to inform them of my safety and drifted into a deep, peaceful sleep.

Lessons from the Journey

This experience, though fraught with challenges, taught me invaluable lessons:

Travel Preparedness: Research your destination thoroughly, especially remote places. Know the routes, accommodations, and safety concerns.
Trust in Strangers: Despite the warnings, I encountered kindness at every turn—from Shera Yadav’s guidance to Baba’s hospitality.
Patience and Adaptability: Travel isn’t just about destinations; it’s about the unexpected moments in between. Embrace them, even when they’re difficult.

Conclusion

My trip to Garhi Padhawali was far from what I had envisioned. It wasn’t a leisurely exploration but a real-life adventure that tested my resolve. The haunting stories, lonely roads, and unexpected kindnesses made it unforgettable. What started as a nightmare turned into a tale of resilience and the enduring warmth of strangers.

If you ever find yourself planning such a trip, remember: it’s not just about the places you see but the stories you collect along the way.