Abhaneri, where a stepwell falls thirteen storeys into the earth

A village once called the city of brightness

• Something larger once: in the eighth and ninth centuries this was the age of the Gurjara-Pratiharas, the dynasty that held much of north India together.
• Between two eras: the Pratiharas ruled between the decline of older kingdoms and the arrival of the Rajput clans we know today.
• Two masterpieces: temples rose across the region in a confident, richly carved style, and Abhaneri received two of the finest: the stepwell and the temple of Harshat Mata beside it.
• The village story: local tradition credits the stepwell to a Raja Chanda, or Chand, of the Nikumbh clan, and the name Chand Baori comes from him.
• Be a little sceptical: no inscription has been found to confirm who built it, and historians date it on style alone to roughly 800 to 900 CE.
• Both are true: we tell guests the story the village believes and the uncertainty the scholars admit, because both are true in their own way.
• Why it exists: eastern Rajasthan gets most of its rain in a few short monsoon weeks, then almost none for the rest of the year.
• A moving water table: the water rises after the rains and falls through the long dry months, so a simple well soon runs out of reach.
• Architecture as the answer: you dig down to the water, then line the pit with steps on every side, so that whatever the level in May or September, someone can always walk down and fill a pot.
• Steps that follow the water: the deeper the water fell, the further people walked, and the steps carried them there.
• Where village life happened: women came down in the cool of the morning with brass pots on their heads. News travelled here, marriages were discussed and quarrels were settled.
• A traveller's rest: people on the old trade routes rested in the galleries through the hottest hours.
• An act of merit: building a well like this was a gift to everyone who would ever be thirsty here, which is why so many stepwells carry shrines and carved gods.
• Picture the voices: when you look down into Chand Baori, imagine it full of people rather than silent, because silence is the newest thing about it.

Reading Chand Baori, flight by flight

• Light and shadow: from above the walls dissolve into thousands of tiny triangles of light and shadow. The usual count is about 3,500 steps across 13 storeys, falling roughly 30 metres to the water.
• The north side is different: instead of steps it rises in tiers of pillared galleries, one above another, with balconies that look across the void.
• Gods in the wall: two niches hold images of Ganesha and of Mahishasuramardini, the goddess Durga slaying the buffalo demon.
• Never just a utility: people came here to pray, to rest and to cool down, and the bottom of the well is said to stay five or six degrees cooler than the ground above.
• A later pavilion: at the top of the north side, arched openings and rooms let royal visitors rest in the heat of the day.
• The arches give it away: the pavilion is often attributed to later local rulers who added to the well centuries after it was dug, because the original builders did not use the true arch.
• The verandah: a pillared verandah runs around all four sides of the rim, and in its shade the Archaeological Survey of India has laid out carved stones rescued from the Harshat Mata temple.
• Walk all of it: some of the finest sculpture at Abhaneri lies here at knee height, and most visitors walk past it.
• Staggered flights: look at the steps below you, then across to the far side. Every flight is staggered against the next, so there is no single line down the wall.
• Designed for crowds: someone carrying water could always step aside onto a landing to let others pass, because a thousand years ago this was a crowded, noisy, social place.
• You look, you don't descend: the steps are steep and worn, and the well is protected, so visitors look from the rim and the verandah.
• The best view anyway: honestly, the geometry only makes sense from above.

Harshat Mata, the goddess of joy

• The lost tower: the tall curved tower, the shikhara, that once rose over the sanctum is gone, and a plain dome now covers it.
• Who did the damage: local tradition blames Mahmud of Ghazni, the raider of the early eleventh century. Historians are more cautious and say the temple was ruined and patched over several centuries.
• Scattered stones: pillars and carved panels from the upper terrace ended up in the stepwell verandah, and many of the best sculptures went to museums in Amber and Jaipur.
• The lower terrace panels: walk slowly and look for Vishnu and Garuda, Balarama, dancers caught mid-turn, musicians, and couples in tender embrace, which scholars read as images of royal patrons.
• The upper terrace: an image of Narasimha, Vishnu as the man-lion, stands flanked by warriors.
• The Pratihara touch: the carving is soft and full, with rounded limbs and calm faces that feel nothing like the sharper work of later centuries.
• A sad detail: in the twentieth century the original image of the goddess was stolen from the sanctum.
• Worship goes on: today a Lakshmi image is worshipped there as Harshat Mata, and women from the village still come with marigolds and coconuts.
• Treat it as a temple: take your shoes off where others do, keep your voice low near the sanctum, and ask before you photograph anyone at prayer.

How we visit, and at what hour

Mustard fields and stone carvers on the way

• Camels and tractors: camels still pull carts here, but tractors pull more of them.
• The stone carvers: near Sikandra, shortly before the turning, yard after yard of carved sandstone lines the highway: temple pillars, garden statues, latticed jalis and elephants of every size.
• The sound of chisels: it carries from the workshops, and we sometimes stop for ten minutes to watch the carvers shape a block.
• An old craft, still alive: the hands that made Harshat Mata's sculptures have descendants still working the same kind of stone a few kilometres away.
• Roadside food: dhabas serve hot kachori, dal and rotis straight off the griddle, and tea in small glasses. We know which ones keep a clean kitchen.
• Or a picnic: we can pack one from your Jaipur hotel and set it out under a tree, or plan lunch for Bharatpur or Agra further down the road.

Abhaneri among Rajasthan's stepwells

• Kund: usually a stepped tank fed by rain rather than groundwater.
• Jhalra: a tank fed by seepage from a lake above it.
• One problem, many answers: they solved the same problem in different ways, and each region added its own decoration. After Chand Baori you will notice them everywhere.
• Where to see more: our guide to the stepwells of Rajasthan maps the ones worth a detour.
• The longer story: our journal piece on why stepwells matter tells how they fell out of use when piped water arrived, and how some are now being cleaned and reopened.

Making Abhaneri part of a longer journey

Where to sleep on either side of the well

• Ahead of you in Agra: The Oberoi Amarvilas has a view of the Taj Mahal from every room, the right ending for a day that began at a ninth-century stepwell.
• Compare the wider list: our guide to palace hotels.
• Heading south instead: the wildlife lodges of Ranthambore are about three hours from Abhaneri by road.
• Break the drive: we often route guests from Jaipur to Ranthambore through Dausa so the stepwell breaks up the journey.

When to come to Abhaneri

• February and early March: lovely, warm by midday and cool at dawn.
• April to June: very hot, often above 40°C, so we only come in the first hour after opening.
• July to September: the countryside turns green and the well can hold more water after a good monsoon, though roads are slower and some days bring heavy showers.
• Think in terms of light: the geometry is sharpest when the sun is low and the shadows are long, so photographers should aim for the first two hours of the day.
• The rest of your trip: our guide to the best time to visit Rajasthan has the month by month picture.

Getting to Abhaneri

• By train: Bandikui, about five kilometres away, has a station on the Jaipur to Delhi and Agra lines, and your chauffeur can meet you there.
• Time on site: allow at least 90 minutes, plus the drive in and out from the highway.
• Long drive days: our guide to getting around Rajasthan explains how we plan them around stops like this one.

Who will love Abhaneri, and who may not

• Fort-weary travellers: those who have already seen the big forts often say it was the surprise of the journey, because nobody told them about it.
• Less rewarding for: anyone who wants grand interiors, shopping or a long, full sightseeing day.
• What's not here: no museum on site, no cafe and very little shade. The whole visit can be done in under two hours.
• Flying between Jaipur and Agra: you will miss it, and that is a fair trade.
• Driving: we think it is the best use of an hour anywhere on the road.
• How we plan it: you reach it fresh, in good light, with someone at your side who can make the stones speak.

What we tell friends before they go

• Shoes off: take them off at the temple where the villagers do, and leave a small offering in the box if you wish.
• Stay behind the barriers: the steps are steep, worn and protected, and the view from the rim is the best one.
• Look down at the floor: the carved fragments in the verandah are some of the best sculpture on the site.
• Decline gate guides: say no politely to anyone offering an unofficial tour at the gate. We send guides who know the site well.
• Read a little first: our guide to Rajasthani architecture takes ten minutes and turns the stones from pretty into fascinating.