Homeward Bound

Though this entry is titled homeward bound its a bit of a cheat really as we have been home for nearly 4 weeks. Since we got back we have been very busy on a number of projects, so I haven't been able to post the final entry for this trip until now.

Anyway, Goa was beginning to warm up. This was quite noticeable, particularly in the heat of the day, and even the locals were ducking for the shade. We were both feeling tanned and relaxed but, conscious of costs and with the worst of the winter apparently over at home, we decided to return. After paying £50 to a licensed bandit otherwise known as Kingfisher Airlines not to take a flight I had  already bought and paid for, we set off on 8th Feb for our journey home.

Our route took us from Goa to Mumbai and then from there to London. We knew that there was a decent distance between the domestic and international terminals in Mumbai, and we had maybe 5 hours between connecting flights, so rather than lob into the international terminal we decided as a last extravagance to drop into a posh hotel for breakfast.

So it was, dressed like aged hitch-hikers, that we fell, with all our luggage, into a cab at the domestic terminal at Mumbai and said "Meridien Hotel please, close by the international terminal". Normally this is straightforward; all taxi drivers know where the 5* hotels are as they are the same places where the big tips come from. On this occasion it was clearly a mystery to our man. I said it again in that 'same but louder' way for which the English  are renowned. His confused expression was a picture. We were in trouble.

This being Mumbai the traffic was mad and almost stationary at the same time. Our driver called out to other taxis to the left and right and enquired about our hotel and received universal and infectious blank faces and shrugged shoulders. As a last resort I web searched using my mobile (which costs a fortune when roaming by the way) got the number, rang the hotel and asked the lady to explain to our driver the location of the hotel.

The short conversation over our driver handed me back my phone and said,"You mean the Hilton!". I didn't but he said he now knew where to go. 10 minutes later we landed, dustily, at the Meridien Hotel - which used to be a Hilton.

Much confusion then as the beturbanned (if that is a word) door staff wanted to take our luggage indoors. We explained that we weren't checking in but were just coming for some breakfast. I think they wondered why we'd brought so much luggage if we were just coming for breakfast. No problem though, a receipt was handed over for each of the four pieces of luggage and in we bowled in after going through security. This was possibly the plushest hotel I have been in for years. Once inside (remember we didn't look like 5* guests) a nicely turned out man answered my question about breakfast by escorting us to the restaurant and bidding us good wishes and for the next 3 hours we read papers, drank coffee and worked our way through the very extensive breakfast buffet. All fabulous except they couldn't get coffee hot and the bacon, like everywhere in India, was not bacon. Otherwise service was fab, fod was good and fresh and plentiful. All in all a terrific and unhurried breakfast and certainly more pleasurable than being in an airport terminal. It wasn't cheap, by Indian standards, but was reasonably priced and very good value by UK standards.

We retrieved our luggage, took a 5 minute taxi ride to the international terminal, checked in, got on and flew home. Once again the in flight entertainment system on the Kingfisher airlines flight to London was not working properly, but the seats were comfy and the flight was otherwise uneventful.  Also, once more, there was a large number of babies and kids under 2 on the plane. They howled, but fortunately they weren't too close to us. We arrived at Heathrow 30 minutes late after a fabulous circle over central London at night. Our taxi home stopped  at Tesco so we could get the necessities and it was for both of us a nice feeling turning the key in the lock after nearly 3 months away.

Bloody cold though!

Next stop - South America in the summer hopefully so watch this space.

Unlikely Accidents or Accidents Waiting To Happen

Regular readers will have noticed that I have referred more than once to the suicidal approach adopted by road users in India. As time has gone on I've become increasingly incensed by the the way that local and national media refer to incidents of death or injury on the road as 'mishaps'.

So instead of ranting about it here in the blog (for a change), I decided to write to the editor of the Herald newspaper in Goa and suggested that, as a paper with a campaigning stance on many subjects, it should campaign on issues of road safety. I further suggested that it could start by referring to these incidents not as mishaps, which are defined in the OED as unlucky accidents, but as the senseless wastes of human life I believe them to be, due mainly to the total lack of regard to any safe driving practices by road users of all descriptions.

I was very surprised to see my letter in print, almost verbatim, in the paper this morning and felt some sense of achievement that my rant may have started something.

This small sense of self-satisfaction evaporated when I turned the page and saw an article describing the "15 people seriously injured in a bus / truck collision mishap" . 

Pune and the overnight bus to Goa? Surely Not.

We were lucky to have friends in Pune that kindly offered to put us up for a couple of days. It would be fair to say that they live in the rather more affluent end of town, in a large 4 bedroom, 4 bathroom appartment, with security on the gates, covered parking and a communal swimming pool. They have twin 2 year old children: a boistrous boy and a studious girl. The children have a nanny. Each.

Having lived in single room accommodation for the last two months it was a nice sensation for once to have access to a lounge and a kitchen. We got a bit lazy and basically did a bit of shopping and had lunches and dinners at some very nice places, managing to fit in watching England lose a one day international against the Australians along the way.

I visited some people that I had worked with previously but had never met and had a very nice lunch with them also.

A consequence of this laziness is that I can't report a great deal on Pune. Its big and busy but seems quite clean and better maintained than some other cities. We even saw a stretch of road being properly tarmacadamed (if that is actually a word) with proper materials and proper road laying machinery. More surprising was that the road itself  didn't look like it needed re-surfacing at all. Could this be the first example of preventive maintenance we've seen, as opposed the the 'build it and then let it fall to bits' standard practice? Who knows.

Planes and trains from Pune to Goa were either full or too costly for our budget so, steeled by our earlier experience, we decided to go one step further for the 10 hour road journey and take an overnight bus. We paid the slightly higher tariff of 600 rupees (£8) each to go in the height of modern bus travel - A Volvo!

Scheduled to leave at 8:30 in the evening the bus would reach Mapusa in Goa at 6:30 the following morning. We had organised our ticket whilst still in Ahmedabad so had to pick it up and then report at a specific place. We couln't find the place to pick up the ticket so with the minutes to take off ticking by and after a few frantic phone calls, a guy on a motor bike turned up, handed over a grubby ticket,  took our money, and pointed us at the Neeta Travel booth, strangely only 10 yards from where we had hauled up. I waved the ticket at the Neeta Travel guy, he nodded and we sat down on the street on whitish plastic garden chairs.

Needless to say, 8:30 came and went, as did 9:00 & 9:30. At 9:45 a white Mercedes coach arrived and parked about 75 yards away. There was no announcement or guidance but, by word of mouth amongst the gathered passengers, it became apparent that this was our bus. I stowed the luggage and we got on. This was like a normal european bus. No 'coffers' or sleeping boxes here, just seats, some of the more expensive ones with very nice head and foot rests. We were in the cheap seats at the back with not much legroom but, once we had worked out the mechanism, found they had a decent recline. Kathy's had a footrest, but mine didn't. I thought this was good as it gave me a little more footspace, though I was to learn later this wasn't the blessing I had initially considered it to be.

Not being overloaded and being a Mercedes this bus was capable of motoring very quickly. From the moment the door closed, at about 10:00 p.m., it became aparent that this was the driver's intention. I have never travelled so fast on poor quality roads in any vehicle, let alone on a bus. This guy knew no fear. All you could do was shut your eyes and hope, as he playfully threw the bus from one side of the road to the other, merrily undertaking and overtaking as he went. After stopping for a drinks break and to pick up freight (a lot of freight gets carried by the interstate bus networks) we were off to the hills.

Many of you will remember the final moments of the original Italian Job film. Michael Caine and his cohorts are all in the coach on the switchback road through the mountains, the minis have been pushed out and there is just the tonne of gold and the robbers left as the coach swerves from side to side as it takes the corners, mountain on one side, a 500 foot cliff on the other, straight down. Well, this was just like that only it was pitch black and I foresaw a similar final outcome with us all hanging over the edge and someone saying 'Nobody move, I've got an idea'. Out of the front window I'd see a wall of mountain flashing sideways to the right, then road, then a wall of black nothingness as we swept around the next bend, then mountain, then nothingness. This was all done at one of two speeds; flat out acceleration or furious braking and it was at this point that I started to miss my footrest. Every time the driver stamped on the brakes I would involuntarily submarine forwards and try to bury myself under the seat in front. I found a way to put one foot on a fixing bar on the seat in front of me and the other on the side of Kathy's footrest. As you may imagine, this rather ungainly position coupled with the frantic swerving of the bus did not allow me any sleep. Everybody else was out like a light and even Kathy got a good three hours kip, so perhaps I'm just oversensitive.

At furious speed for the entire journey we arrived in Mapusa at 06:10 the following morning. Even leaving an hour and a half late we had arrived 20 minutes early.

A 20 minute taxi ride from there saw us to our hotel where, very kindly, the proprietors let us get our heads down in an empty room until ours was vacated and serviced.

Ahmedabad

Our bus had disgorged us a long way outside the city in the late afternoon, on some sort of ring road, so it was a 30 minute rickshaw ride to our hotel right in the centre of town. The ride was almost pleasant. The driver wasn't a noteworthy lunatic, there was only a modest amount of jostling for position, and he even obeyed traffic lights; generally. This was rather unnerving as other road users were behaving in a similar way. We discovered why in the local paper the following morning.Over the weekend the traffic cops had been on a purge, not for the first time apparently, and the previous day alone had extracted 2.5 lakh rupees (about £3500) in fines for traffic violations in the city, and confiscated over 50 un-roadworthy vehicles. On speaking to a group of traffic cops the following day, who seemed very interested in us for some reason even though we were on foot, it seems that there is a determination to make road transport a safer activity in Ahmedabad. So even though it is a big, bustling city with a great density of traffic, you do have half a chance as a pedestrian of actually getting across the road at the lights without risking life and limb; which is nice.

Anyhow we stayed at a decent hotel here, as we'd been on the road for 10 days on this leg of the trip and felt in need of proper facilities and a bit of TLC. The place was super, the service was great, the room was totally clean and everything worked. I'd had a discount voucher from www.hotels.com which I'd put to good use for this reservation so it wasn't too expensive. This was just what was required I thought, so I put on the robe and slippers supplied and pulled the curtains to get a view of the Nehru Bridge and the river. What I got was a view of a corrugated tin shanty town on the river bank of maybe 200 'homes'. I later understood that these were likely displaced people from the earthquake in Kutch, although that was over 10 years ago. The guilt I felt looking out from my 4-star window onto this no-star hovel was quite overwhelming. I'm sorry to say that I simply closed the curtains.

Ahmedabad is not really a big tourist destination. It has some interesting mosques and temples in walking distance of one another in the city centre and a nice gateway, but is not really what you would call a tourist hotspot. So for the first time since arriving in India I was forced to change currency at a bank, rather than at a money changer or bureau de change. It took well over an hour and required a copy of my passport. I shan't go into it in detail as it pains my spirit to re-live the process, but it involved finding the foreign exchange person in a dingy office on the second floor of the bank; the completion of two forms, each in triplicate using good old fashioned carbon paper; a longhand entry in a ledger. Then each of the documents required the signature of not one, not two but four different people located in different parts of the building. I then gave one of them to the cashier and after he and one other person who had already signed the documents, signed the remaining document again finally changed my US$100.

There is a guided walking tour of Ahmedabad every day for 50 rupees, about 70p, but it starts at 8:00 in the morning from the Swaminarayan Temple which was a 30 minute rickshaw ride from where we were staying. Sadly we never made it, I think we are beginning to get a little tired, so we had to do what we could of it from a very colourful but not very accurate map provided by the hotel, but sponsored by those nice sandwich people at Subway.

Sitting on a roundabout not far from the Nehru Bridge is the Siddi Saiyad Mosque. Its not very glamourous. From the front it looks like 4 tall connected garages each missing its up-and-over door. From the back however, looking through the fence with barbed wire on its top, you can see two intricate yellow sandstone Jalis; hand carved lattice work in yellow Sandstone. Depicting the marvellously detailed intertwined branches of a tree they are known as 'The Tree of Life' jalis and are fabulous.

Go southwest from there and yes, we were using a compass, and you  come to the Bhadra Fort, which has seen better days although it was easy to imagine that it was was once very impressive. From here, all the way along the MG road is one big market up to the Teen Darwaza, a very grand three arched gateway that straddles the road. Sadly the market stalls now obscure much of it so its not as grand in our photos as it is in reality. I bought a chilly slicer from a market stall and was thinking hard about getting a mandolin, but pulled back from the precipice.

Keep going and on the right is the Jami Masjid, a large courtyarded mosque built in the 15th century. Its very open and there tablets at the entrance describing it and its construction.Much of it was made from destroyed Jain & Hindu temples. Its nice to see that Ahmedaad had a recycling programme that early in history.

It was very hot so we doubled back and ducked into a small restaurant with formica tables, had a cold drink and shared a punjabi thali that was more than enough for two, tasted great and was as cheap as chips. There's also a Subway around here somewhere.

Kathy had noticed in the paper that morning that there was an 'exhibition cum sale' of local handicrafts that day at a football ground on the outskirts of town. We jumped in a rickshaw and went. Hope of attitude change evaporated as this rickshaw driver 'drove' as if intent on dying and going to heaven as soon as possible, with us as unwilling eye - witnesses. We survived but, as this is a few days ago at the time of writing, we are less certain that he will have in the meantime.

Anyway, we bought a nice beach blanket, in readiness for our return to Goa, and I bought a garlic skinner. The garlic skinner is like a piece of rubber inner tube. Pop the cloves inside and then roll with purpose and the skin theoretically comes off. Kathy was very dubious but I now have it on good authority from a friend in Pune that this unlikliest of devices works very well. I again nearly bought a mandolin.

We found a nice little restaurant not far from our hotel and had two smashing dinners there during our stay. We were the only foreigners on both evenings and the place had a feeling of 'deja vu' to it. I realised what it was - it was a place that was like most indian restaurants in England, even down to the fish tank and the wailing music. I felt at home. The food was spicy, not simply hot, and good. No beer though - its as dry as a bone here.

Next. Big tin budgie to Pune.

Taking The Bus To Ahmedabad

We were on the 10:30 bus from Udaipur to Ahmedabad, a journey of about 250 kilometers, at a cost of 250 rupees each; about £3.50 We had a confirmed pair of seats and all we had to do was be at the start point by 10:00. We got a rickshaw and was there with our luggage at the appointed hour. I waved my ticket at the man behind the desk and he gestured us to sit. After a while it became apparent that the 10:30 bus did not exist and it turned out we were going to take somebody else's 11:30 bus. A  few other people arrived, but the bulk came at or soon after 11:30. The feature of turning up late beacause the bus is always late has the effect of assuring that the departure time actually gets later and later so there is not much point in turning up on time, something these people knew but that we didn't. Anyway, at about noon a fellow waved us up and gestured for us to follow him which we did for about 250m to a gas station where was parked a rather delapidated coach. We chucked the luggage in the boot and got on. We found our seats and sat down.

The design of this bus was evidently typical for here but is sufficiently unusual to warrant a description to help you visualise the rest of the post.  Basically the coachbuilders take a single decker bus and put in maybe 30 seats in the middle of it with an off-centre aisle. Then they build a mezzanine over the seats and section it off into 6 feet long 20 inch high boxes with a sliding door and a ladder. They fill the remaining floor space with more of these 'coffers' ,which are aparently sleepers cabins. They then build a box behind the driver that four or five people can squat on and then they put like a perimeter wall on the roof (more on this later).

It was clear that there were many more passengers than places. It took an hour for the guy allegedly in charge to work it out. The solution was that all the sleepers would be doubled up and the remainder would sit in the aisle. So the single 6ft x 20" x 30" sleeper had two occupants and the doubles had four, laying alternately head to toe. We set off with maybe 12 people in the aisle, plus a further 5 standing in the doorwell, and another five sat behind the driver. Slowly at first with the engine, which sounded like a world war two tank, protesting angrily at the effort, we gathered momentum until we reached what felt like warp factor five and there we stayed, airhorns blazing every 20 seconds, until the driver was forced to stop the bus - would you believe to take on more passengers. This pattern repeated four further times until there were too many people in the aisle to count. They were squatting, sitting, standing and hanging on the ladders to the now 4 berth sleepers. The bus now lumbered, being clearly overladen, and struggled to get to warp factor five. But get there it did in the end and once there nothing was going to stop it. The major part of the journey was spent on the wrong side of the road until, after two hours we stopped at a roadside 'restaurant' for a break. It was only at this time that I realised the purpose of the additional 10" high wall on the roof. I'm afraid not dear reader, putting luggage up there would be far too simple and quite unreasonably safe. Up on the roof were another 20 pasengers. All in all I'd estimate that in excess of 100 people were on that bus.

We carried on at breakneck speed, all guns blazing, until we reached the outskirts of Ahmedabad. I had consoled myself with the last of my stock of Rajasthani samosas en route and hoped for a safe deliverance. I was glad to alight still alive and we grabbed the luggage and got a rickshaw for the 30 minute drive into the centre of town.

One thing on the upside though - the seats were really rather comfortable

Udaipur - Lakes & Palaces and Octopussy

Heading further south and with the day time weather becoming noticieably warmer we came to Udaipur. Udaipur sits on two adjoining lakes, Pichola & Fateh Sagar, with a bridged canal between the two and is pretty much surrounded on all sides by hills. Its a little like the Lake District in England only without the low flying aircraft. The southern lake, Pichola,  has two island palaces, Jag Niwas & Jag Mandir, now hotels, that sit majestically on the water. You may remember Maud Adams looking particularly alluring in the James Bond film Octopussy and those scenes were filmed here at Jag Niwas.

When we got to the centre of town I have to say that it didn't look too promising and those images of Maud, delightful as they are, were far from my mind. The road to our hotel was blocked by, shall we say, an inconsiderately parked car. As a consequence we had to go around some small lanes, dodging bikes and rickshaws and come at it from the other side, on foot for the last 30 or 40 metres. On entry the place didn't look very appealing either, with just a very functional reception desk. Anyhow, we went through the mindless registration administration required for foreign nationals and went up to our room, using one of those elderly lifts with a manual 'pull across' articulated metal door. Our room, however, was totally fine with all mod cons; a ceiling fan, a fridge, a TV and a decent bathroom with hot water (albeit only between 7 & 9 in the morning and 5 and 7 in the evening). It was only when we went up stairs to check out the restaurant did we realise the big plus point of this rather unassuming little hotel: the view. The position of the hotel was at the northern end of Lake Pichola and from the rooftop restaurant the view of the City Palace on the shore, the lake with the two palaces and the hills beyond was quite magical. Once night fell and the palaces were lit up by thousands of bulbs and their outline reflected in the shimmering waters of the lake it was simply 'fairytale beautiful' and the trip was worth it if just for that view.

Whatever anyone says, the easiest way to see Udaipur is on foot. The roads around the principle places of interest are narrow, heavily congested and its easier to duck through on foot. I have learned that sticking my hand out with purpose, palm outwards, at the onrushing lunatics on bikes and in rickshaws seems to have some effect and they generally slow, stop or give way. If it doesn't look like they are going to then I add a shouted 'Wait!' or 'Be patient!' and this seems to generally do the trick and it saw us safely around here. I don't recommend sole reliance on this method and I always had somewhere for us to jump if we encountered a driver with either no brains or who just didn't give a shit. The undeniable truth that over 130,000 people die on India's roads each year was never far from my mind and it kept us on our toes. I still find it strange and saddening that in any other country a statistic like that would be viewed as a national disgrace, whilst here it is accepted with a casual shrug followed by an almost partisan 'That's India'. Shockingly even the newspapers report these regular deaths as 'mishaps', when of course they are in the main entirely avoidable.

Anyway, its seems that one can only get to the island palaces if one is resident and if one has a reservation. We weren't and didn't so we contented ourselves with views from the shore, though we did cross the canal and got a pretty close look from the other side. Again I am afraid our photos are not as impressive as the real thing but we were impressed and determined to have a couple of drinks at an expensive place on the shore and watch the sun go down over the lake, which we did. For the enthusiasts boat trips on the lake are available for about R400/- for an hour, departing from the City Palace.

We might not have been able to get to the lake palaces but the City Palace on the eastern shore is totally geared up for paying visitors. Again there is an audio guide available for R200/- (£3/ €3.5 / $4.5) which was very informative, so I'd recommend taking one.  Built in the 16th Century with many later additions and covering over 5 acres (2HA) you can happily potter around here for a morning. Some of the rooms are fabulous and the inner courtyard which is on an upper floor but that has mature trees is cool and wonderfully peaceful. The views across the lake and the city are equally impressive. Note though that the palace is very popular and we found ourselves halting to let through bus loads of indian tourists all frantic to get through this tour as quickly as possible so that they could get on to the next one to do the same there. This was a feature we had first noticed in Mysore with hundreds, perhaps thousands, of the local population virtually running through the building without stopping to take in anything of the scent of the building or its history, which I think is rather a shame. Anyhow, it was the same story here, so I'd suggest avoiding weekends and go in the afternoon rather than the morning. Also take water as the onsite coffee shop is outrageously expensive, even by English standards. Alternatively you could take out a mortgage and go for a coffee at one of the two luxury hotels that now occupy the Shiv Niwas and Fateh Prakash palaces in the complex.

There are plenty of inexpensive places to eat and drink within walking distance of the city palace but be warned that most have only open air rooftop restaurants, so that diners can get a glimpse of the lake . Whilst this might be lovely on a balmy spring evening ,at this time of year the temperature is 25C during the day but a chilly 4-5C at night, so if you intend visiting at this time of year I suggest you take a jumper.

We took a long walk down the east coast of Lake Pichola, as far as the courtesy boats to the posh lake palace hotels, where a kindly doorman from one of the hotels let us out onto his jetty to get some better views of the lake and to take photographs. This welcome concession was viewed less kindly by one of his colleagues who was trying to oils the timber of the jetty at the time.

Our next stop was Ahmedabad. We were to do this leg by train and so we bade our farewells to our driver, Haroon. He was missing his children so we let him go early. Once he had gone, and on closer examination of the ticket, we saw that the train would take 12 hours and 26 stops to do the 250km from Udaipur to Ahmedabad.This equates to an average speed of 21 kilometres per hour, about as fast as a bicycle. Despite our reservations and my earlier posts on driving standards, we decided to ditch the train and spend R250/- to go by bus, which would take only 5 hours.

Tune in for the next instalment as we have decided to dedicate a discrete blog to this interesting journey.

The view from our hotel

Our hotel was just behind the trees in this pic

City Palace

City Palace at Night

Jag Niwas

Jag Niwas & Jag Mandir in the background from our hotel

Sunset Drinks

Sunset Drinks II

Ranakpur - Jain Temples

Kama Sutra Temple

A modest detour on our way from Jodphur to Udaipur brought us to Ranakpur. This is a very small place about 30km from anywhere of note but it has two claims to fame.

One is a fabulous Jain Temple and the other is the much smaller, adjacent temple known locally as the Kama Sutra Temple.

I have touched upon my own view of religion before in this diary and in a country with literally millions of temples, churches and mosques I thought that I had become pretty much immunised on the subject of temples, following the line that, "once you've seen one temple then you have seen them all". Whilst this is broadly true and the principle variations of most temples are in size and decoration nothing prepared me for the Jain Temple at Ranakpur. It is the reverse of most temples, being rather plain on the outside, with all the effort being spent on the decoration of the interior. Apparently this is as the Jain faith places less value on the significance of outward appearances and greater merit on the importance of a rich inner life. This interior has marble carvings and decorated domes of outstanding detail and quality. There are over a thousand intricately carved marble pillars and each is different from all of the others. As with so many things we've seen in India the photos we've taken struggle to convey the beauty of the place, but we've posted some below anyway.. Outside when we regained the stuff we had to remove before entry (shoes, water bottles and belts)  a stately old gentleman came to us with the visitors book - apparently all visitors not on pilgrimage ( and there were a decent number of those there too) are required to register in the book, which we were happy to do.

50 yards away is the much smaller Kama Sutra temple within the same complex. Its main attraction seems to be the carvings on the outside walls of couples in various intimate positions, some of which looked rather uncomfortable to me. But then I might be just getting old!

Jain Temple - Interior dome ceiling about 10m in diameter

Jodphur -Forts, Palaces & Food

Mehrangarh Fort

Mehrangarh Fort from the Town

Mehrangarh Fort Main Gate

Mehrangarh Fort

View of the Blue Houses From Mehrangarh Fort

Mehrangarh Fort

Mehrangarh Fort

Mehrangarh Fort

Mehrangarh Fort

Jodphur Panorama

Mehrangarh Fort

Mehrangarh Fort Panorama

Mehrangarh Fort

Mehrangarh Fort

Continuing our journey southwest we arrived in Jodphur. Our driver Haroon hasn't quite got it yet as he keeps stopping at roadside restaurants that are totally geared (and priced) to western package tourists. You see, dear reader, he gets a commission from the restaurant for anyone he drags in that is prepared to dine at the exhorbitant prices charged at these joints.  Today he was disappointed for the third time - we stretched our legs had a coffee and that was it and 10% of sod all is sod all. Meanwhile he went off for a 60 rupee Thali meal in the staff canteen at the place. I've told him that we will eat where he does in future whilst enroute. As if to shew us that he had got the message on arrival in Jodphur he pointed out a cheap open air restaurant off the main street where he said we could eat very well for less than 100 rupees. He was right, but more on that later.

Jodphur is the second largest city in Rajestan with nearly 850,000 inhabitants and, yes, those odd horse-riding pants were designed here. There's an old walled city and a newer surrounding city but the entire city is dominated by the Mehrangarh Fort. This huge 15th century fort is perched upon and yet almost an integral part of a hill to the northwest of the city centre. It is vast and absolutely magnificent. Though there are many large forts in Rajestan and we couldn't possibly see them all during this trip I'd venture that this is the most imposing. In fabulous condition and with a proper trust overseeing its upkeep we spent nearly 7 hours wandering around there and imagining how it might have been all those hundreds of years ago. There is an audio guide for vistors (for a fee of R200/-) and I recommend anyone to take one as it was very informative and an easy listen. There were museums showing everything both practical, ornamental and decorative, from weapons to childrens cradles, but it is the structure itself that we found the most inspiring. As with so many things here the pictures don't do it justice I am afraid but take my word for it, and I don't use this word very often as it is so often used these days to describe mediocre and commonplace things, but this place is an awesome sight.

I learned something about loyalty, love and dedication here. When the fort was built in the late 15th century a hermit, who lived on the hill, was effectively evicted. He placed a curse on the fort and its occupants and, apparently, one of the maharajas entourage volunteered to be bricked up alive in the walls of the fort as a sacrifice to break the curse, which had coincided with a great famine. He's still there to this day at the front gate with a stone plaque to honour his dedication to his king. Further in, at one of the inner gates, there are hand prints of the ruler's wives  on the walls. When a ruler died the wife would leave the fort during the funeral rites marking her departure with her handprint on the wall. She would later place herself on the funeral pyre containing her dead husband and would there be consumed by the flames, by all accounts in silence.. These days we might perhaps find it difficult to understand such dramatic displays of loyalty, devotion or affection, but maybe there were aspects of behaviour and dignity in those early days that we might do well to reflect upon in these modern, turbulent, rather more selfish times.

Anyhow,  we decided to walk down from the fort through a settlement of houses all painted blue. We passed boys playing cricket in the street and I was mildy rebuked when I suggested to one of the lads that he was the new Tendulkar - he protested that he was in fact the new Yuvraj Singh. I couldn't help smiling, cricket is up there with all the other competing religions - and seems to have a greater following. We also came very close to being taken out by a camel pulling a dray.

The town had a scruffy central market place and clock tower.  There were however, spice shops and cookshops. We had some lovely cardamon and cinnamon tea, so bought a few packs of that. We stocked up on some spice mixes and saffron and I bought a nice stainless steel tiffin box. I had a lovely time really as I am often at my happiest when ferreting around a cookshop for something interesting. I almost bought some copper kadais (cookpots) but decided the baggage allowance would allow it.

In the market & main street we found out that the street food here in different.  Yes there are pakora stands and I did have some vegetable and chily pakoras that were fab and less than 20p. There's a famous (mentioned in Lonely Planet apparently) omelette stand just outside the square. I didn't have one but I was impressed that he must do a decent trade as he was surrounded by 6 foot high columns of eggs in two dozen egg trays. The real deal is Rajestani samosas. They are wonderful; huge and packed with a variety of quite spicy fillings. There are round ones and triangular ones all packed with flavour and wonderfully delicious. Also at only 8 rupees each (about 10p) they are great value and a meal in themselves..

At this point I should mention the open air restaurant that Haroon pointed us at. With melamine tables and no two chairs the same it didn't look too promising but there was a view to the street by the single set of traffic lights in the city so during our meal we had the added entertainment of the madness at the lights, as cars, bikes, rickshaws and bicycles jockeyed for position to get away first.  It was all stupid really as on each occasion all the traffic stopped at the lights got through the lights well before they changed. It seems these people just can't help it and turn crazy the moment they get on the road.

Back to the food. In the restaurant there was a thali special for 89 rupees, about £1.20. You could choose any three from 6 vegetarian curries, one from four rice dishes, one from three curd dishes, one from 3 deserts and one from three bread options. I make this over 300 possible combinations. I told the waiter what I'd selected, the drinks order and kathy's food order. He had no pad or pen and I wondered what we would end up with. It came 100% as ordered which I was pretty impressed with and was really terrific food at a sensible price. So much so we ate there again the following night and was just as good.

While sitting there watching the lunacy at the lights there was a commotion between a middle aged motorcyclist and a traffic policeman. What initiated the disturbance remains a mystery to me, but there were raised voices, waved and pointed fingers and a rather ungainly scuffle which resulted in the cop jumping on the motorcycle and riding off with the apparent owner in hot pursuit. I imagined the insurance report ( in the unlikely event that there was a policy) - "My machine was stolen by PC Venkatesh Singh in Jodphur High Street". Kathy was amused that the cop stuck out his bum to prevent the owner climbing on the pillion as he scooted off down the road.

The two other noteworthy places in Jodphur are the Umaid Bhavan Palace and the Jaswant Thada. The latter is a cenotaph for Jaswant Singh II that we didn't visit and the former is a 20th century Palace built by Maharaja Umaid Singh which we did, though only a museum is open to the public. The rest of the palace is occupied by a very posh hotel so off limits to poor plebs like us,  and the quarters of the grandson of Umaid Singh. The museum was a rather self-indulgent  review of the building of the palace in the 1930's but it did have a very unusual collection of clocks, of which we shall post a few photographs as a discrete blog.

Onwards to Ranakpur and then to something I was really looking forward to, Udaipur and its lakes and lake palaces.

Pushkar and Blessed Quiet

After the 'big city' of Jaipur we were looking forward to the quiet of the country. Pushkar has a population of about 15000 and is centred, according to the guide book, around  a lake that has ghats at the lake's edge, it apparently being a holy place with over 400 temples.

Well there is a lake and there are ghats at the lake's edge, but its more of a boating lake rather than a a lake in the wider sense. Nevertheless it was quiet. There was no mad streets with cars, bikes and busses jockeying for position, no furious leaning on horns and no pedestrians ducking for cover. There were just a few streets with mainly pedestrain traffic, the odd bicycle or car, and an infrequent cow. The people were nice and the food was great even though no meat, or eggs are allowed in the town. Its alcohol free too but I didn't care, I was just happy to be in a calm place. Apparently there is an annual festival when the population swells to over 400,000. I have no idea how this is accomodated in such a small place.

I did upset a local as apparently you have to take your shoes off 30 feet from the lakeside. I didn't know & he didn't explain so that was a bit ugly, but otherwise the whole experience was a good one.  Even the storekeepers seem to be straight., Kathy had been looking for some cushion covers for ages but everyone wanted to start with a price in the stratosphere and bargain from there. In Pushkar we asked the price, the guy gave a price that we thought was reasonable, and which was a fraction of the stratosphere prices we had been quoted up to that point, and we bought the covers.

Pushkar Lake and Ghats

Pushkar Lake

Pushkar Town House

Veranda at the Pushkar Palace Hotel

Pushkar Lake from The Pushkar Palace Hotel

Our driver, Haroon, had dropped us in town as our hotel was on the outskirts. We told him we would call him when we wanted him to pick us up. Unfortunately neither Kathy nor I had thought to actually check which of us had a mobile in our possession. I thought she & I both had one, she thought I  had one and in reality neither of us had one. So when  the time came, after our very nice vegetarian dinner, to call for Haroon  the awful realisation dawned that we couldn't contact him and had no idea where the hotel was or what it was called, other than 'Paradise' was in the name. As I've touched on this place is a bit 'rural' so no taxis and no auto rickshaws were around so we took the only option and after some quizzing regarding the destination took a bicycle rickshaw. Only when two up in this bicycle rickshaw going uphill did it become apparent what hard work this is for the pedaller. I got out and pushed on the uphill bits and we got home in  the end - about 2km away. Haroon had been frantic poor thing - apparently its not good business to lose your customers.

Jaipur.Forts, Food and Fights Over Plastic

Travelling west from Agra we came to Jaipur. After a struggle finding our hotel we checked in. The hotel itself was nice enough. Clean and well presented with a subterranean restaurant. Food was fine and reasonably priced and breakfast was plentiful. Our 2nd floor room had a floor to ceiling window which if opened put you at some risk of falling straight through onto the ground below, as there was neither a balcony or guard rail.

Jaipur itself is really rather convenient for the tourist, as most of the main sights are in the centre of town and within walking distance from one another. The only noteworthy place slightly out of town, though there are many places a distance from the town is the Amber Fort - more on this fabulous place later.

The most interesting place in town was Jantar Mantar. Built in the early 18th century by Sawai Jai Singh II it is one of five observatories built in India and apparently the best preserved with 16 giant stone structures to assist in celestial identification, astrological prediction, and the telling of the time. It is fascinating and has instruments that even now tell the time to within 20 seconds. Well, that is they tell the time to within 20 seconds of Jaipur Standard Time which, for some mysterious reason, is 34 minutes behind modern day India Time.  Its a fascinating place, right in the centre of town but strangely very calm, even though there were bus loads of schoolkids on field trips. We wandered round there for an hour or so trying to work out some of the instruments but as neither of us are technically gifted much of it remained a mystery.

A few hundred yards away is the Hawa Mahal. This is a one room wide, five story building built right at the side of the main road. Currently undergoing some much needed renovation it was built so that ladies of the harem could sit and watch through grilles and hatches the goings on in the streets below without the possibility of being observed by men. If`you don't mind being pestered by salesmen it is possible to go up on the roofs of the shops opposite to get a picture of the grand facade. Its worth the entry fee to the place itself to get a sense of the segregated female existence in the late 18th century.

A short walk south-west, or a 10 rupees rickshaw ride  will bring you to the Jaipur Government Cenral Museum otherwise known as,  for no sound reason that I can detect, The Albert Hall. It has recently been renovated and now has labels and signage in English so is an interesting and informative place to get out of the heat for an hour or so.  The building itself is quite grand but but there are thousands of pigeons flying around, both outside and inside the building, so watch out.

A few kilometres out of town is the Amber Fort. Perched on a hilltop you can get to the main gate by elephant for a fee, if you wish. Alternatively there is a well maintained pathway from the main road to the fort. This path crosses the elephant path half way up and as elephants have a pretty big stride their speed, even uphill, is faster than you might think. Choosing our moment to cross with great care we soon made our way to the main gate and entrance courtyard.  This is where we discovered that there is a 2-day composite ticket available that covers all the places I've mentioned so far plus the Nahargarh Fort a little further out of town for 300 rupees (for foreigners of course - its virtually nothing for locals). If you plan on visiting the sights I've mentioned then the composite ticket is good value and you'll come out 150 rupees ahead of the discrete entry fees.

Anyhow, the fort itself is pretty amazing. Its certainly large and imposing and you can get a sensation of how it would have been when court proceedings were being undertaken. There's a great pillared Diwaniam where public meetings would have taken place as well as ornately decorated private rooms, chambers and gates. They also had a turkish bath which I imagine would have been unusual in 16th century India.  Outside there is a great lagoon with fabulous recently restored gardens, once apparently used for growing saffron for the court. All in all a fab place and well worth the short trip out of town.

On the way back we stopped by the pretty Jal Mahal.This translates as 'water palace' which is appropriate as it sits in the middle of a lake accessible only by boat. It was inspired by  the lake palaces in Udaipur (more on those later).

The town centre of Jaipur itself, which is a big place of over 2.3 million inhabitants, is unusual insofar as it is a small grid which does make it easy for the tourist to navigate around. The main drag, the Tripolia Bazaar, is one big shopping opportunity from spices and paint at one end to plastic goods at the other. In between is where Kathy was able to get some replacement spectacles for the ones lost at Agra. We also tried the street food and had a terrific dish of aloo tikkas (fried potato patties) with chick peas, and spicy gravy. on a disposable plate for 20 rupees each. They were really tasty but quite spicy, making the lips go numb for a minute or two.

Wandering around the shops we noticed a real scramble at the eastern end of the street. Lots of pushing and shoving with large indian women in flowing sarees elbowing one another out of the way. Voices were raised and arms were being waved in all directions. The source of this agitation was a new delivery of plastic Tupperware - like boxes and small injection moulded footstools. The footstools particularly were proving immensely popular with the women (and it was all women) and they carted away huge plastic bags full of these 18" x 12" stools all nested together in packs of 10. It was bizarre at the bazaar and there were women with maybe 40 or 50 of these stools forcing them into rickshaws before forcing their own ample frames in afterwards and then speeding off like getaway cars at a bank raid. We still don't understand attraction of these stools and why anyone would want to fight over them; its all rather mysterious.

So Jaipur gets top marks from us for an enjoyable and interesting couple of days. Next stop a sleepy town of 15000 people, which might be nice. Pushkar.

Jantar Mantar on the Libra pointing instrument

Jantar Mantar on the Aquarius pointing Instrument

Amber Fort from the road

Amber Fort Panorama

Amber Fort Elephant - Look Out!

Amber Fort Gateway

Amber Fort Gardens - taken from the fort

Hawa Mahal Facade

Albert Hall Museum

Yours Truly - Amber Fort 

Jal Mahal - 'Water Palace'

Jantar  Mantar - The Big Timepiece.