Good bye Delhi

It took us nine hours to get back to the west, and how different life here is.

We had moments of total chaos to moments of serenity

I eat bread, rice and daal, hope my feathers stay in place!

A heated moment, this monkey was using effective body language.

We decided to take an elephant to take us to the local juice bar.

Doubles or quits.

Bright turbans are required in the hot weather, so you can be seen from a distance in the hot sun.

Can you spot the difference regarding the stance?

Jaipur - please don't feed the monkeys

We left Jodhpur by Indian Railways, with a small stowaway in the compartment, a mouse. This being India, he could have been a reincarnation of Reginald Perrin, doomed to commute to Jaipur in this form for a lifetime. This being India, the inspector went through all the compartments with an aerosol spray, presumably to gas out the rail rodent,  but in doing so, turned the train into a sort of Bhopal on wheels.

Six hours of holding our breath later we reached our destination and refreshed by some Eau de Jaipur, took a rickshaw to explore The Pink City.  Jodhpur was hectic and polluted but Jaipur is toxic. A rickshaw ride is like a dangerous version of Space Mountain as you hurtle towards oncoming traffic, swerve to avoid potholes and stop within a micron of the vehicles in front. Any signs of discomfort are greeted with cackles of laughter by your driver who looks back to gauge your reaction.

We visited Galwar Bagh, the Monkey Temple in the hills just outside the city. Locals come and feed the Rhesus Macaque monkeys on their way to the holy shrine of the Sun God. The view of Jaipur is spectacular.

We decided to eat in the Rough Guide’s recommendation, The Peacock Roof-garden restaurant but on discovering a youthful, flowers in their hair and baggy hilltribe pants type of clientele, (think of the worst type of youth-hotel atmosphere 30 years ago) we made our excuses and left.

We intended visiting the City Palace but the death of the Maharaja of Jaipur, Bhawani Singh, meant that many official buildings are closed today.

Jodhpur

Having acclimatised to rural Rajasthan in Ghanerao, Jodhpur, a city of one million, brought us back to hustle bustle and pollution that beats even Delhi. Every evening, the centre of town is enveloped in a thick grey pashmina of smoke and the rickshaws cough up cartoon like-fumes from their diesel engines.

Our first morning was spent visiting village settlements outside Jodhpur. The tour is organised by a specialised  tour company that claims to plough back some of their profits to the communities. The visit by Jeep (a 1952 Land Rover actually) offers a fascinating glimpse of life outside the city.

We visited potters, weavers and people from the Bishnoi community. This is a sect of the Hindu religion that follows the teachings of Jambeshwar Bhagvan. One of their principles for living in harmony with nature is that all trees are protected, some are sacred. They are the original “tree huggers”. Exceptionally in the hindu religion, the deceased are buried, not cremated, as cremation would involve cutting wood from a tree for fire. The visit usually ends with an “opium tea” ceremony involving a complicated filtering apparatus that looks like a cross between a bird-cage and a miniature temple. On the morning that we visited, the elder was out on business ( I can imagine a red- turbaned gentleman with a briefcase doing house-calls: “Uppers, downers, I’ve got them all, come on tree huggers...”)

Jodphur itself, the Blue City, is a maze of alleys with some elegant havelis and indigo-tinted houses.  Sardar Market, with a red-stone clock-tower at its centre, is where most of the bangles, spices and sequined textiles are sold to locals and tourists alike, but not necessarily at the same price. Pedestrians have to dodge the rickshaws and motorbikes while cows, secure in the knowledge that they are sacred, pay no attention to the on-coming traffic.

The town is dominated by the massive hilltop fort of Mehrangarth, built in 1459 by Rao Jodha, the city’s founder. Visitors to the fort are treated to a turban wrapping demonstration. The guide points out that in Jodhpur there’s meaning in their colour, the way they’re worn – every turban tells a story. (We Irish call this ‘talking through your hat’.)

We dined under the stars on the castle ramparts at the Mehran Terrace restaurant. When we arrived at 8.30pm we were surprised to notice that we were the only clients. In an effort to make small-talk I pointed out to one of the flock of waiters that business was quiet that evening. No sir, he earnestly replied, we have another booking for 9.30pm.  The food was quiet good so it did seem strange to have such a spectacular setting all to ourselves (not for the first time in India.) We left at 10.30 and the 9h30 reservation had still not arrived...

Tomorrow morning we take the train to Jaipur.

Ghanerao

We left Udaipur with regret it is so beautiful there and set off by car to Ghanerao  a small  village that is between Udaipur and Jodphur.  The countryside was mainly farmland dotted with small villages which are in the Aravali hills. We passed by Tribes people whose clothes were an array of different colours, always bright pinks, yellows green or red. It was so hot and yet they seemed to be perfectly at ease walking along the dusty roads carrying loads and laughing or chatting away, while Adiy and myself were shrivelling in the heat.  Our driver stopped to show us these hanging black lumps that hung from several  trees, they were about the size of small rugby balls. To my horror I saw that in fact they were bats fruit bats!!  Jesus I ran back into the car and refused to get out again.

After 3 hours in a temperature of 40 degrees! We made a stopover at the famous Jain temple in Ranakpur, it is one of the five key places of pilgrimage for the followers of the Jain faith. While we were in there I spied one of the priests dressed in white and orange approaching different people and blessing them, in general you give a wee donation. I am not adverse to giving donations but I knew I would feel uneasy being hummed at so I hid behind any of the 1,444 pillars to avoid the humming priest. My poor Adiy is not as agile as me nor am I as blessed as he is now!  got caught. The priest ( who by the way was the head priest! ) was enthralled to hear that Adiy was from Dublin  and told him of a young Irish man who came to the temple some 30 years ago. This Irish man was a young architect who spent several months, taking measurements inside the temple. My Adiy was in the same class as Arthur,  so he got a double whammy of a blessing,  How about that?

We arrived at our hotel which is an old castle in the middle of a tiny village. The people live very simply and were just so lovely. When they smiled their faces were a picture to look at and their smiles made me feel very warm inside. Little children ran after us each one saying “Hello” and then ran away delighted with themselves giggling with glee. I felt like a famous star being followed by my fans! Next scene in the movie- There was nobody to greet us upon our arrival and this created a very strange sensation. You know in the old movies when the carriage pulls up outside this massive castle,  there is no one in sight and on the ledges of the towers  hundreds of birds are perched watching and waiting. It was exactly like this, I was scared shitless, our driver could sense my fear and tried to console me; suddenly” An Igor” appeared and lumbered his way over to us.” I take you to your quarters;” boy was I excited to follow. My Adiy bravely marched in and I followed with trepidation. We lost our driver, he drove off and all that was left was dust.  

The Castle.

A stroll in the village.

The Dining area.

A window to peep from in our room.

A relax room in our suite

View from the terrace top of our room

Never judge a book by its cover, happy afterall. igor was in fact very kind and helpful.

Udaipur city, Rajasthan

Udaipur was one the exotic settings for the unforgettable James Bond movie “Octopussy” and you can still see photos of Roger Moore in various emporia posing with the owners having bought Indian goods to furnish the chalet in Gstaad.  Curiously the Bond theme lives on and if anyone wants to know where Judi Dench buys her  tunics, send me an e-mail.

“Octopussy”, so I’m told, featured a Rickshaw chase through the streets of Udaipur. ( The word comes from the Japanese word jinrikisha, or ‘human-powered vehicle’). How many people can you fit in a rickshaw? Well we’ve counted 10 children in one, being delivered to school in their pristine school uniforms (does the school tip the driver?)

Just as the rickshaw miraculously weaves its way through bicycles, pedestrians, cattle and other on-coming rickshaws, so the conversation with the driver meanders through the usual questions about where you come from, your opinion of India until you get to the chase : a friend who imports sweaters from Kashmir, a cousin who has worked for Maharajas and can get you genuine Moghul miniatures.  Last night our driver was called Prince “like the singer”, and justified his higher price of 75 rupees because he had pimped his ride. While most rickshaws are old and knackered, his was nacré. The white upholstery had a spectacular sheen that was best seen in the light of the blue neon garland that decked the rear window.  The seats had been pushed forward slightly to make way for his ‘Massala Sound System’.

Udaipur is beautifully situated on Lake Pichola, on whose banks ladies in saris beat the dirt out of multi-coloured garments while small boats chug across to the Lake Palace, now an hotel, with supplies that will be sold to tourists at prices that represent hundreds of years’ wages for most of the inhabitants.

some Delhi photos

Second day in Delhi, train trip to Udaipur and Udaipur

Hello Everyone,
What wonderful things we have seen and experienced. We hired a car and driver for 8 hours it costs about 1200 roupees roughly 21€. The best way to get around, you stop off at all the places you want and the driver just waits patiently. We went to the markets in Old Delhi, Jesus what an experience, at first my heart was in my mouth, the tooks tooks drive everywhere, motorbikes whizz in and out, cyclists were about 5 gas bottles hanging out from the sides of their bikes all doing the same things, getting about their buisness and I felt I was in the way. Adrian stepped on a sleeping dog's paw and got a nip on his ankle. I was sure my poor husband had instant rabies. Apart from the continuous jumping from side to side and just barely missing fatal death, it was wonderful,  so vibrant and colourful, it was magic. On our way back to the hotel to pick up our bags at the hotel so we could head off to "The train station" our driver's horn got stuck and then smoke came out of the front bonnet. We had to jump out and just in time cos as he opened it flames shot out. We escaped once again ! Poor guy he was devastated and we were in a state of panic as there was only an hour to go before our train left. We got a took took little rickshaw run by a motor. We got back and then had to wait for another taxi to take us to the station. The wait was so painful and my nerves were beginning to fray. The manager of the hotel was so worried for us that she told the taxi driver to make sure he got us there on time. Well even the most hair raising James Bond chase was no match for the lightspeed chaotic drive we experienced. Our toothless driver was very pleased with himself and my poor Adiy himslf was almost hairless after that drive. Our ttrain trip to Udaipur took 12 hours we left at 7pm and arrived at 9am.  That's it for now