It’s as if I were trying to hitch a ride fromPuducherry to ancient Rome. No onewants to go to Arikamedu. Eventually, arickshaw driver shows mercy by agree-

ing to take me for ₹��350. It’s twice theamount I paid 10 years ago but I accept hispricey off��er, because I recall the archaeolog-ical site being a seven-kilometre drive fromPuducherry, deep inside a jungle.

The rickshaw crosses the bridge over Ari-yankuppam River, which is more of a la-goon, but the suburbs of Puducherry conti-nue to sprawl in a multi-storeyed, concretelandscape rather than giving way to the hutsthat I remember. As we turn off�� the Cudda-lore highway, the road meanders past Le Pa-radise Inn AC Bar — which I’m absolutelysure wasn’t there before. Women sell freshcatch squatting in the roadside dust and anarrow path between boxy houses leads towhat’s left of the jungle. We bump on a dirttrack through rubbish-strewn greenery, theoccasional cactus stares back aggressively,until the discreetly green-painted Archaeo-logical Survey of India fence comes intosight. No information board welcomes me toArikamedu. A handful of cud-chewing cowsare the only other visitors.

The fence protects a striking ruin with ve-ry Roman arches. But it’s actually the re-mains of a 250-year-old French mission,built around the time the fi��rst rudimentaryexcavation took place. French scientist Guil-laume Le Gentil observed that villagers werealready busy recycling the ruins, which ex-plains why there’s no ancient town aboveground. But looking closely at the mission’swalls, I notice two diff��erent types of bricks:one of a familiar size used even today, whilstothers are fl��atter, larger slabs. I let my fi��n-gers slide across their rugged surfaces. I feelI’ve seen similar fl��at bricks at historical plac-es around the Mediterranean. It seems themission was built with looted bricks.

Romans and the romanticsIn the absence of signposting, the way to ex-plore the site is to follow a path that leads off��from the ruin through the jungle and to-wards the river. Butterfl��ies are disturbed bymy steps and fl��utter up from the grass. Soulsof Romans? Reborn as tropical insects? Ac-cording to excavation reports, somewhereunderneath are the foundations of a 45-metre-long 1st century warehouse, sur-rounded by streets and drains and pits — thelatter perhaps used for dyeing the fi��ne mus-lin cloth that Tamil bards called ‘milky mist’.Archaeologists found imported Roman ta-bleware and wine amphorae shards suggest-ing that somebody who lived here had extra-vagant habits, but there were also traces ofbead-manufacturing, signifying that the har-bour housed a mixed population of indige-nous artisans and foreign businessmen.

The site runs half a kilometre along theriver and reaches 200 metres inland at itswidest, and it may harbour more secretsthan archaeology has so far uncovered. In

one clearing, myopic as I am, I come upon ameadow of bluish fl��owers, which on closerinspection turns out to be mineral waterpouches and the explanation for their pre-sence is in a nearby grove — empty whiskeybottles and discarded plastic cups. A roman-tically inclined couple scamper out of theundergrowth. I don’t know whether to apol-ogise for disturbing or take the uncle ap-proach and explain that historical placesshould be used for history purposes only.But in the end, I tell myself that if Romansdrank wine here, then why shouldn’t a cer-tain romantic tradition continue?

At the riverfront one may descend atone’s own risk by an old rope down thescarp. It’s dicier than expected and I tumbleto the bottom of the steep embankment,which is basically a mud-caked fl��at. As Icrawl in the black goo, I’m amazed at thefact that nothing has been done to developthis as a tourist destination. Yet it directlylinks two of the greatest ancient civilisa-tions, the Indian and the Roman. As if toprove this, I spot pot shards in the mud andlayers of bricks in an archaeological jigsawpuzzle laid bare by recent cyclones. This

then is the quay that used to jut out into theriver and from where, 2,000 years ago, In-dian spices, cloth, jewellery and other luxu-ry products were shipped to Europeanmarkets.

Unsolvable riddleHolding on to that thought and with myshoes slowly sinking in the mud, crabs run-ning amok whenever I move, I’m struck byhow, without appropriate signage, this re-mains an unsolvable riddle for anybody whoisn’t an expert. It’s not as if nobody hasthought of doing something about it. Onescholar, S. Suresh, discusses in his book Ari-kamedu: Its Place in the Ancient India-RomeContacts a plan for a Tamil trail to highlightsites that in ancient days traded with theWest. There has also been talk about an on-site interpretation centre. Years ago, a UN-ESCO World Heritage tag was proposed andArikamedu is currently on a tentative list of‘Silk Road Sites in India’. But nothing hashappened and when someone built a mu-seum nearby, he was forced to shut it downbecause it’s illegal for private citizens to col-lect and display archaeological fi��nds.

Back in town, where the French left an oc-cidental esprit behind in 1954, I head forRue Saint Louis where a merchant’s 18thcentury villa has been converted into the Pu-ducherry Museum. Unfortunately, there’snot much information available here either:when I ask the man at the ticket counter,who speaks a tiny bit of English, if I can buya catalogue or an ASI excavation report, I’m

given a free tourist brochure that deals most-ly with shopping in Puducherry. I enquire ifthere’s anybody, perhaps a curator or direc-tor, who knows anything about the Arikame-du objects, but he says no.

The museum displays a whimsical collec-tion of European leftovers like rotting pia-nos and a pousse-pousse type of car fromthe 18th century powered by two nativeswho ran behind pushing it. There’s also aroom housing Arikamedu discoveries in-cluding an informative display of beads cu-rated by a British archaeologist 35 years ago,making it a valuable museum piece in itself.Their minuscule size made beads the per-fect export product — fancy Arikamedu stylemicrobeads have been found as far east asVietnam and Bali.

Wheeler’s discoveriesLuckily, I’ve been doing some additionalreading. Finds made by the French in thelate 1930s suggested that Arikamedu mightbe a ville romaine that drew the attention ofMortimer Wheeler, Britain’s celeb archaeol-ogist who at that time headed the ASI.Wheeler excavated in 1945 and announcedhis discoveries with great enthusiasm: hisreport has many quotable if factually diceystatements such as the claim that Arikame-du ‘represents the site of a considerable bu-ried town on the Coromandel coast.’ No‘considerable’ town has been unearthed,but Wheeler’s team catalogued scores ofshards representing almost every imagina-ble kind of Mediterranean pottery. Regard-

ing amphorae, it is possible to pinpoint notonly the place of origin but even date of ex-port, as the styles changed with fashions. Anormal-sized amphora held the equivalentof 36 of today’s bottles and considering thatimported wine costs more than ₹��1000 thevalue of each amphora (at a time when ship-ping was so much trickier) is easy toimagine.

A coin-sized holeBut I’m especially interested in inspectingthe Arretine tableware that Wheeler identi-fi��ed: a standardised high-quality potterythat was used throughout the Roman Em-pire from 1st century BCE to 300CE. I recallseeing, on a previous visit, a fragmentstamped with the name of a prominent pot-ter based at Arezzo in Italy, suggesting thatthe plate was manufactured around 25CE.Since it belonged to a limited period productline it was signifi��cant for dating all the fi��nds,prompting Wheeler to declare: ‘Upon theimported Mediterranean wares the wholechronology of the site, and its special impor-tance therefore to Indian archaeology,depend.’

I locate a handwritten label, ‘Italian TerraSigillata Plate (imported from Roman Em-pire)’, but the holder is empty. Despite allthe sari-clad museum guards keeping asharp eye on tourists to ensure that nobodyclicks a pic, somehow the treasure of the col-lection has disappeared. I’m in mortalshock. There’s also a display of Roman coins— of emperors Gallienus Antoninianus (three pieces) and Tetricus Antoninianus (asingle piece) – but the occasional emptycoin-sized hole suggests that things havegone missing here as well.

There’s still enough evidence left for us tobuy the idea that Roman infl��uence was pre-sent. However, along with his path-breakingdiscoveries, Wheeler spread an infl��ated nar-rative of Arikamedu being a full-fl��edged Ro-man port. Later archaeologists, such as Vi-mala Begley who excavatedcomprehensively in 1989-92, disagreed withhim. According to Begley’s fi��ndings, Arika-medu was inhabited and had lapidary indus-try as well as pottery production long beforeany foreigner set foot here — which is prob-ably why Romans came in the fi��rst place totrade wine and fi��ne-quality plates. The richbead fi��nds suggest an indigenous export-oriented business that perhaps started asearly as the 3rd century BCE; that is, at atime when Rome was an expanding citystate but not yet a vast empire.

FINDING AN AMPHORA IN

ARIKAMEDUAn archaeological site near Puducherry holds the key to India’s ancient relationships

with the rest of the world. That is, if you can fi��nd the place fi��rst

BY ZAC O’YEAH

COVER STORY

<>As I crawl in the blackgoo, I’m amazed thatnothing has been doneto develop this as atourist destination

<>Their minuscule sizemade beads the perfectexport product — fancyArikamedu stylemicrobeads have beenfound as far as Bali

Hidden world (Clockwise from left) The ruins ofstriking Roman arches at Arikamedu; and fi��shing boatsalong Ariyankuppam river. S.S. Kumar & Zac O’Yeah

Scholars therefore postulate thatthe excitement over a Roman portin India may be exaggerated. Ra-jan Gurukkal argues in his paperClassical Indo-Roman Trade: AMisnomer in Political Economythat the ‘history of India’s mari-time contact with Rome, generallydescribed as Indo-Roman trade,has been a prominent theme ofdiscussion in her historiography,exciting several historians withthe imaginary notion of a mari-time civilisation…’ His conclusionis that it should, rather than‘trade’, be called ‘Roman-Indianexchange, an exchange of seriousimbalance, because of its beingbetween an Empire and a regionof uneven chiefdoms’. HimanshuPrabha Ray, author of The Archae-ology of Seafaring in AncientSouth Asia, who was personallypresent during the excavationshelmed by Begley, elaborates thata ‘myth debunked by the recentexcavations is the identifi��cation ofthe site as an Indo-Roman tradingstation… More signifi��cantly, thearchaeological record confi��rmedthat Arikamedu occupied a nodalposition in the inland, coastal andtransoceanic networks.’

Yakshi in ItalyThe alternative conclusion maythen be that Arikamedu was es-sentially one of India’s early inter-national ports, making local elitesso wealthy that they could enjoythe occasional amphora of wine,build the temples that Tamil Naduis famous for, and patronise San-gam poetry. The references to In-do-Roman aff��airs in ancient Tamilpoems prove the existence but notnecessarily permanence of aliensettlements, and certainly do not

disprove the agency of Indiantraders.

In some recent texts, ironically,more importance is given to In-dians in the Roman empire, whichtilts the entire aff��air in the oppo-site direction, despite there beingonly fragmentary evidence for Ta-mil merchant settlements in Egypt— though this paucity could bedue to the perishability of Indiangoods: spices, textiles. One of therare Indian objects discoveredwithin the Roman Empire, signifi��-cantly enough in a merchant’shouse, is an ‘ivory statuette foundin the Roman town of Pompeii,which was buried in lava’ as notedby Partha Mitter in his Indian Art,which means that this sculpture —some experts suggest it is Lakshmiand others that it’s a Yakshi —would have reached Italy beforethe volcano’s eruption in 79CE.Might it have come from Arikame-du? It’s an archaeological fact thatwines produced in the Neapolitanregion found their way here.

Soma and an oliveDrinking in the sight of the am-phorae shards, I can’t help butwonder what wine meant to an-cient Tamilians. Some scholars ar-gue that imported wine was forthe consumption of Romans set-tled here, yet Tamil poets eulo-gised ‘cool and fragrant wine’ thatwas guzzled from golden pitchers‘that have been fashioned withhigh artistry’ such as mentionedin the 56th poem of the Purana-nuru. Sanskrit texts mention thateach Indian village had a tavern,while cities had entire quarters re-served for bar-hopping. JeannineAuboyer, in Daily Life in AncientIndia, provides a vivid descriptionof ‘rooms fi��lled with seats andcouches, and also counters where

perfumes, fl��owers and garlandscould be bought. It was a lucrativebusiness, for the sale of fermentedand alcoholic drinks continuedthroughout the day and well intothe night.’

But the bar at my heritage hoteloff��ers a mocktail named ‘Arikame-du’ — a mix of mango, cranberryand lime juices — which feels off��,considering what heady beverag-es the place seems to have servedup in ancient days. If one were toname a cocktail ‘Arikamedu’, it

ought to contain a splash of Medi-terranean wine, lashings of soma(can be substituted with beer),and an olive.

On my last morning in town, Idecide to see what the mouth ofthe Ariyankuppam River, whichthe Romans sailed up, looks like. Ipresume I’ll fi��nd it if I walk southfor as long as the beach stretches,so I head down the seaside prome-nade. Where Goubert Avenueends, the beach continues past apopular bar called Seagulls to theold French pier which is off��-limitsfor tourists.

Sea of bottlesBehind the pier, black bouldershave been stacked to stop erosion.I climb up the rocks and stumbleupon a narrow street in front ofhuts belonging to fi��sherfolk — menare mending nets, women dry fi��shon the asphalt surface. I cross astretch of sand to a makeshift tar-

paulin camp from where a kuc-cha road leads further.

After another kilometre I seefi��shing boats moored in a creek.There’s a hillock I climb for a bet-ter view of the Ariyankuppam,only to bump into a defecatinggentleman. A sewage pipe vomitsout a dark waterfall into the river,as if all the puke of Puducherry’swinter party season is chan-nelled this way.

A wading fi��sherman throws his

net out again and again. Occa-sionally the tempestuous seareaches his neck and I worry forhis safety. Nearby, three men ona motorboat trawl the inlet,shrieking ‘yahoo!’ I climb downto where the Ariyankuppam andthe ocean meet and some youthsare fi��nishing a pre-lunch whiskybottle while fi��lming themselvesdancing surrounded by hun-dreds of beer empties — whichmakes me wonder what future

archaeologists will think if theydig here?

The sea of bottles is a curiousanalogy to the amphorae shardsjust about a thousand metresupriver, but on the other side.

The other side of history, onemight add. But with a little sign-posting Arikamedu might deve-lop into a centre for understand-ing India’s ancient relationshipswith the rest of the world — fromEurope to the Far East, for theArikamedu site was obviouslyclose to the heart of it all.

The author is fascinated with placeswhere tourists don’t go, especially ifthere’s something to eat that hehasn’t tried before.

Finding an amphora in Arikamedu

<>Drinking in thesight of amphoraeshards, I can’t helpbut wonder whatwine meant toancient Tamilians

Ancient fi��nd (Clockwise fromabove) The road leading toArikamedu; stones of diff��erentcolours excavated at Arikameduon display at Puducherrymuseum; some of the excavatedidols. Zac O’Yeah & T. Singaravelou