So I decide to check it out for myself – in the nick of time, as it happens, since today is June 2, the monsoon is expected to arrive on June 7, and you can’t get to Elephanta all through the monsoon.

I arrive at the Gateway of India, and have barely stepped out of the taxi from Churchgate Station when I’m accosted by a man offering me a ticket on the ferry to Elephanta Island. The details are straightforward enough: a return ticket costs Rs 120 (deluxe ferry) or Rs 100 (economy ferry); the ride is an hour, each way; and ferries to Elephanta Island leave from the Gateway every half-hour. I opt for the deluxe (nothing luxurious about it) ferry, and find myself in a motley crowd. In front of me are two women – probably European – one in a pretty crocheted top, pearls, and delicate sandals. On my right is a large and happy Maharashtrian family who seem to be headed for a picnic: mango juice, Coke, and wedges of lime – the latter supposedly a preventive for seasickness – emerge from large bags shortly after we embark.

The ride through the muddy waters to Elephanta Island is uneventful; we pass naval vessels, merchant vessels, research and scientific craft – but that’s about all. Elephanta comes soon enough, but (since I’m all by myself), I’m feeling a wee bit lonely and bored by the time I get off the ferry at Elephanta.

I buy a Rs 10 return ticket on the mini train that chugs along to the foot of the hill; it isn’t a long trip, and would probably take less than ten minutes on foot. Off the train, I pay Rs 5 as tourist tax at the village of Gharapuri, then wrestle my way past sun-darkened, wrinkled old women selling a variety of exceptionally tart fruit: star fruit, semi-ripe mangoes, and small crimson berries known as faalsa. The stone path up to Elephanta Caves rises up a hill and is flanked by scores of souvenir sellers hawking everything from postcards, trinkets, coasters and little carved elephants to maps and guidebooks. By the time I arrive at the caves, I’m hot and breathless (okay, probably because I’m woefully out of shape). A bottle of mineral water cools me down; I buy a ticket (Rs 10 for Indians; Rs 250 or $5 for foreigners) and then go to the first of the caves.

Time to step back for a little background now. The original name of Elephanta (also the name of the village that still exists at the foot of the hill) is Gharapuri. The Portuguese are said to have bestowed the current name because of a huge statue of an elephant which was found here. Elephanta is today famous for its complex of ancient rock-cut cave temples. Although there are five rock-cut caves, only three of these are temples, and the fact that they date back almost to the 7th century AD makes them historically very significant. The sculptures in these caves are considered representative of ancient art forms – especially that of the Chalukyan empire and the Gupta kingdom. Little is known about the history of the caves, so it’s difficult to put a precise date to them, but art forms – such as the stylised hairstyles of the women; the depiction of mountains and clouds in the sculpture – correspond to Gupta carving. Most probably, the caves date back to the mid 7th century.

The three temples stretch out from Stupa Hill to Canon Hill, but it is the temple in the centre – the Main Temple – that is truly impressive. It’s dedicated to the Hindu god Shiv (the Destroyer in the Hindu Trinity), and showcases Shiv in all his different forms: the destroyer, the ascetic, the lover and husband, entranced by the devotion of his wife, Parvati. Massive square-sided pillars support a ceiling that is believed to have originally been painted; and as I slip into the gloom of the cave temples from the bright sunshine outside, it takes me a minute or so to adjust – and then I gawp.

Okay, I have seen photographs of this over the years, in school textbooks and travel brochures. But the reality is much more awe-inspiring than I could’ve imagined. Right opposite the entrance, dominating the wall, is a huge sculpture that depicts Sadashiv, the three faces or embodiments of Shiv. The one on the left, eyes wide and eyebrows lowered terrifyingly, is the fiercely destructive Aghora. The one in the centre, gazing benignly down at the handful of snowy plumeria flowers placed as an offering below, is Tatpurusha, the embodiment of absolute knowledge. And the one on the right, demure and gentle, is Vamadeva or Uma – the feminine side of Shiv.

Vamadeva is more obvious in the sculpture of Ardhanarishvara (literally, `half-woman deity’) on the left of Sadashiv. Shiv here is depicted as half man and half woman. The masculine half, strong and lean, leans on the back of Nandi, the bull that is traditionally the mount of Shiv. The feminine half – its face more gentle, more delicate, its figure voluptuous and curvy (down to the single breast) – holds a mirror and is surrounded by female attendants.

There are other depictions of Shiv too – as Nataraj, performing the cosmic dance of destruction; as Yogeshwar, the lord of yoga; and – in his most romantic form – as Kalyanasundara, the loving and gentle bridegroom in his wedding with Parvati. All of the sculptures, including those of the eight dwarapalas (guards of the gate) surrounding the garbha griha (the sanctum sanctorum) with its shivlinga, the phallic symbol of Shiv – are intricate and beautifully evocative. Dusty, broken in places, of course – but quite awesome nevertheless. Especially when you remember that they’re probably around 13 centuries old.

A couple of tips, now – mostly gleaned from my own experiences. Firstly, wear good walking shoes. Getting up the hill is not something you want to do in high heels. By the way, there are men who’ll carry you up the hill to the caves in rough palanquins, if you need the help. Only the Main Temple is wheelchair accessible – but I couldn’t see how a wheelchair could get up there in the first place.

Secondly, watch out for the monkeys; there are a number of them around outside the caves, and they snatch at any food or drink they see in your hand. One of them made a swipe at my bottle of water. And lastly, do take out ten minutes or so to visit the Archaeological Survey of India (ASI) Site Museum outside the Main Temple; do this before you enter the caves. The museum isn’t great, but it does explain a lot of the significance of the sculpture in the caves, so is a good way to appreciate what you’ll get to see later on.

Once you reach the top of the stairs, you find the famous Elephante Caves. If you get a guide like we did, he explains the carvings to you. Outside the cave there are beautiful trees and monkeys, wild monkeys. Don't get to close too them, or else they will growl at you.

At the end of the day, you are tired and dusty, but you get on a ferry to go back to the mainland and relax. If you pay 10 rupees, you get to ride to the top and take pictures of the sunset as you sail home.

One quick warning: If someone greets you once you disembark from the boat to the island and says they are with the tour, don't believe him. I was hustled out of 100 rupees per person, and there were 10 of us. He requested payment after the fact. In a word, ask how much first. To our tour guide's credit, he did gives us good advice and explained a lot more about Elephanta than we would have known on our own. It was my second week in Mumbai, so my N.R.I. ignorance was his luck.

The boat ride itself is an attraction: a gentle trip (on the calm day we went) through the harbor, past a naval base (no photos allowed), and a series of other islands, surrounded by boats ranging from small fishing craft to enormous ocean-going freighers. The boat's radio blasts Indian playback music, the sunshade dyes the light orange, and the wind from the water makes the ride much cooler. (Be warned, though, that some get seasick: we were fine, but the lady sitting opposite me, a respectable-looking woman in her forties wearing a perfectly pleated sari and elaborate gold jewelry, looked pretty miserable by the time the trip was over.)

When you reach the island, you can either walk the 50 yards down the pier to the land, or you can wait for the electric train to shuttle you instead. We walked, heading straight for the drinks stand, and bought ourselves Fantas. Thus armed, we turned to the main attraction - a long stone staircase, entirely lined with stalls selling jewelry and elephants carved in soapstone, leading to the caves. (You can hire two men to carry you up in a chair, but why?)

At the base of the staircase, a man came up urgently to me, pointing at my Fanta. "Monkey, monkey!" he said. "Orange, orange!" My response: "whaaa?" But I got my answer - a monkey, one of the orange-faced macaques, leaped onto my arm and made a grab for the bottle of soda. It probably weighed ten pounds, and when you see them up close, it turns out that monkeys have impressive teeth. But I shook it off, and we climbed the stairs (rubbing disinfectant into my clawed arm as we went) and reached the caves at the top of the hill.

The caves are mostly manmade, large rectangular rooms cut into the red rock lined with carved scenes from the Siva myths. They can be hard to parse even if you know the iconography because the statues are in many places worn away. But even so, the carvings are still beautiful. Most impressive is the 12-foot-tall triple head of Siva, in front of which every single visitor posed for a photograph. There is a beautiful Ganesh, in which the god's elephant trunk twists sideways like a python, and some splendid statues of Parvati (Siva's consort) decked in jewels and not much else.

The area around the caves is shaded by trees and has beautiful views of the harbor. It would be a perfect picnic spot if it weren't crawling with monkeys. We had learned our lesson, but some other people hadn't, and we watched several hilarious monkey vs. human, monkey vs. dog, and monkey vs. monkey tussles over picnics.

When you get to the boat dock, you'll be approached by touts trying to sell you a ticket. They're fine, as long as you're asked to pay only the face value on the ticket and you have exact change. Otherwise, go to the Gateway of India ticket booth by the parking area (on the right as you're facing out to sea).

Then a tout will show you which boat is yours and will expect 10 rupees even though you could have found the boat yourself. (As is usually the case with baksheesh in India for a small service, it's much easier just to hand over the cash and not worry about it -- it's just a few cents. Anything over 10-20 rupees though and I'd argue).

Relaxing on the boat is great. You'll be amazed to see how big Bombay harbor actually is. Indian families will usually strike up a conversation with you and often will ask to take your picture! It's not that they've mistaken you for a movie star, but that Western faces still aren't a terribly common site in India.

When you arrive in Elephanta Island, if you're approached by a "guide", make sure you ask how much he's going to charge you before agreeing to go on the tour. Even though a guide is supposedly included in the price of the boat trip, he will definitely ask you for more money at the end. Notice that only Westerners are approached by touts. Be on your guard.

The ruins themselves are incredible. The carving of the three faces of Shiva is remarkably well-preserved. The Shiva lingam are still used in meditation and you'll see flowers there from a recent puja (a ritual in honour of the gods). The water tank still holds water after hundreds of years.

Go up to the highest peak by taking the dirt trail around the back of the caves. There you'll see a cannon left by the British and a great view of the bay.

Be sure not to miss the last boat back!

At the western end of the cave is the very centre of Elephanta, the resting place of ‘linga’, the simplest form, encompassing the essence of creative power, in which Siva is worshipped as the Lord of fertility and procreation.
The other panels, though disfigured by the Portuguese who used them for target practice, are Nataraja, Siva as cosmic dancer, Ravana Anugraha where Siva crushing Ravana with his toe, as the latter in an attempt to demonstrate his might, vainly tries to lift Mount Kailash. The other panels are Andhakasuravadha, impaling the demon of darkness with his trident, Kalyanasundara, Siva as the gentle god, with his consort Parvathy, Gangadharan, Siva receiving the descending river Ganga, and holding her fist in his matted locks, thus preventing the flooding of the world.

The famous Maheshamurti lies deep in the inner recesses of the cave. ${QuickSuggestions} The Elephanta Festival is held in the month of February, when the island bursts in a colourful explosion of dance and music. November to March is the best time to visit Elephanta.
${BestWay} A chugging ferry ride from Bombay, surpassing the fishing boats, large ships, navy installations, little islands, occasionally leaping fishes, highly vocal natives, reminding in its way down the ever changing face of time, takes us to the Elephanta in 15 minutes. Then a short mini train journey takes you to the foot of the hill.