The pond atop Kari Gudd

A few weekends ago, I met a rather curious chap at a local watering hole in Bangalore. Vineet Vincent, among other things, is a playwright, snake enthusiast, painter and cruiser bike aficionado. He was also the man who had promised to introduce me to Savandurga, widely regarded as the largest monolith hill in the world.

So the next morning we made our way to Magadi town where Savandurga is located. Mention must be made of the ageing but valiant steed we were astride; a ’94 Yezdi Roadking that thundered between our legs and never betrayed a moan.

Soon the brick and mortar of the city dissolved into the earthy brown and green of the woodlands. The tangerine sunlight and fresh air washed away the grime and dirt, as the silhouette of Savandurga appeared against the azure horizon. I whistled in awe and Vinny, as Vincent preferred to be called, began to narrate the story of Savandurga.

Situated 33km to the west of Bangalore, Savandurga has a famous old temple of Narasimha Swamy, nestled at the bottom of the hill. Primarily visited by trekkers and rock climbers, the hill and its surrounding forests are also home to sloth bears and leopards. At this juncture, I expressed my concern over a face-off with either species, to which I was treated to a profound and completely irrelevant monologue on ‘the power of mind over matter’.

The entrance to the Fort of Death

The earliest mention of Savandurga was made by Hoysala Ballala III, the last of the great Hoysala kings. Due to its natural military advantage as a vantage point, Magadi soon became a secondary capital to the Kempe Gowdas of Bangalore for a major part of the 17th century. It was witness to some hard-fought battles between Tipu Sultan’s forces and the British, and still has decaying stone fences and bulwarks from the original fort.

Atop the hill is perched an ancient Nandi shrine. Vinny, who has a strong flair for the dramatic, promised that by dusk, we would have whispered our hopes and dreams into Nandi’s ears.

As we started our climb, the ancient fort’s gateway wore a foreboding look, with the monolith itself looming above. A significant portion of our initial climb was along the limestone stairs, broken out of the natural rock formation alongside the decaying wall of the fort. On this wall, there were small holes, through which almost the entire windward side of the hill was visible.

Midway the terrain turned more difficult as we encountered ancient caves and giant boulder formations. The arid and thorny scrub, which punctuates the entire hill, created natural roadblocks, which we navigated through with brute force.

As we reached what we thought was the final stretch, we faced a daunting climb over the last rock face, at the top of which there was the most beautiful pond, formed after years and years of corrosion. The sight of the pond with its crystal clear water and emerald green floor, coupled with the brilliant view of the nearby forests and the Arkavathy Dam, should have been the perfect reward for our arduous climb to the top. But there was a definite disappointment — the Nandi shrine was nowhere to be seen.

We soon realised we had got it wrong. One reason why Savandurga is a unique monolith is because it is a union of two hills — the Black Hill (Kari Gudda) and the White Hill (Billi Gudda). It gave the side occupying the hill fort a marvellous tactical advantage — hence it was named Savinadurga, literally meaning the ‘Fort of Death’, by Robert Home, an English artist travelling in the Indian subcontinent.

The majestic Savandurga Hill

But for us it meant that we still had one more hill to climb. Starting out, we figured that from this point we would have a gentle walk up to the shrine rather than a tedious trek. Unfortunately, we could not have been more off the mark.

The undulating terrain gradually became perilously steep and the trek became longer than we expected, when we discovered that the only way to the top was by circling almost three-quarters of the hill. The smooth nature of the rock face ensured that we were on all fours through a large part of the trek, with Vinny dragging me out of quite a few crannies I slid into.

Luckily some of the fort’s lookout posts built at strategic positions were ideal as resting points and we needed them. With sore feet, scratch marks and sweaty tees, we reached the Nandi shrine, prayed for a safe journey home and with a warm and fuzzy sense of accomplishment, we sat and gazed into the distance as the sun began its rapid descent into the horizon. “Victor Banerjee was here”, Vinny said lazily. “And so was David Lean.”

“These hills are the only ones who know what happened between Dr Aziz and Miss Quested,” he continued. In stunned silence I drew the connection as a satisfied smile crept into Vinny’s face — this is where the iconic film A Passage to India was shot. The rascal had saved the best for last!

Ready reckoner

• Getting there: The nearest airport and railhead is Bangalore, 33km from
Savandurga. There are regular flights and trains from Calcutta to Bangalore.
• Best time to travel: The best time to visit is between March and June.