Al’ n And’s grey gap year adventures

AMRITSAR

We leave Horridwar by train, our fourth, and first overnight, journey. It is another of those trains which start a long, long way away and a long, long time before but it ends in Amritsar, so we do not have to worry about oversleeping! We are again in a 3AC coach, but this time split into two  separate compartments. Alison M and Roberto take the two berths at the end of one compartment  and Andy and I have bottom and mid tier berths in another

Each berth is provided with sheets, a pillow, a blanket. ANdy and I sit for a while and provide refuge for Alison M, after she has despatched all the small cockroaches crawling up the wall of her lower tier end-of-compartment berth. We then make up our beds and settle – more or less – for the night. We all sleep on and off and actually quite well. The only major disturbances are the various wallahs through the night selling tea (“chai garam, garam” – it is an endearing cry!), soup, water, other foodstuffs we cannot make out

We arrive in Amritsar only a little after our 7.30 scheduled arrival time and go straight to our hotel. An old haweli with lovely courtyards. We breakfast and the staff make a huge effort to get our rooms ready hours ahead of the 3 pm check in so we are able to shower before setting off: destination (of course) the Golden Temple

We start on foot, we all love to explore a new place by walking, but do not last long. The traffic is huge, noisy, smelly. We head for the pedestrianised Golden Temple area by tuk tuk but first have lunch in an Amritsar institution: the Brothers Dhaba. It is packed, noisy, the veg curries are fabulous

We decide to visit the Partition Museum. It is fascinating, shocking, and brings the things I learned about in my 20th Century history lessons very much to life. And of course, the museum narrative is not written from a British perspective

Then to the Golden Temple complex. We cast off our shoes, don headgear and ready ourselves for entry

 

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It is breathtaking from stepping onto the white marble outer plaza, through the gate, for the first sight of the temple, glistening and almost floating on the tank…

We deplete our camera batteries quickly!

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The complex is pristinely clean, serene but also  . . .  happy, festive. Many people stop us to ask us where we are from and what we think of the temple and wish us well. Some are Sikhs visiting from afar, some are local who visit regularly

We are there as dusk falls and admire the temple as it gleams in the early evening light. The queue to enter does not look too bad so we join, Alison M, Roberto and I stick it out, Andy decides it is too claustrophobic. He leaves the queue and continues to walk the complex, chat and take photographs

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Despite the Indian queuing system which sees us lose places at every move forward, we seem to make good progress until the queue is held for 20 minutes – no-one is permitted entry to the temple when the sung chanting stops for spoken prayers

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We gain entry and the interior is like a jewellry box, so ornate, so elaborate. There is not much time to look: for the non devout sightseers (us!) it is a pretty quick walk through, reminiscent of the shuffle past the Mona Lisa at the Louvre. Nonetheless it is remarkable, memorable. Makes us interested to learn more

We rejoin Andy and head for more temporal pursuits – beers and snacks on the edge of modern Amritsar, first in a bar where we are driven out by the decibel level of a sound-checking band (when did we get this old?) then to an adjacent beer cafe. We are the only non-Indians and everyone is tucking into tandoori chicken wings, fries and beers. What’s not to like! 

Our second Amritsar day begins with a pleasant shopping experience: Andy lost his reading glasses in Jaipur so we find a local optician. He can have a pair made that day and delivered to the hotel. He is charming and recommends somewhere for dinner that night and books us a table

Then back to the Golden Temple area. First visit is Jallianwala Bagh. Another history lesson of the British in India made horribly real.  The garden is a charming monument. The story behind it awful. There are very few other non-Indian visitors when we are there but everyone we interact with is charming, and we each have requests for selfies . . .

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Back to the Golden Temple to see the Sikh Experience (we were expecting a museum, we found a very well done video presentation across four large theatres). The temple complex feels much busier today but it remains mesmerisingly beautiful. We go to the langar hall, not to eat, although we could, but just to witness the enormous operation which feeds between 50,000 and 100,000 people a day. We see and talk to some of the volunteers on food prep and watch and listen to the sounds of the catering – eating – clearing up operation for a while

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A final tour of the temple complex, some more photographs and a discussion about attending the evening ceremony when Granth Sahib, the holy book, which, if I have understood correctly, contains the words and teachings of Guru Nanak, is moved from the temple to its overnight resting place. None of us made the 4 a.m. morning ceremony which sees it taken to the temple so I suggest the evening one as an alternative

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A very late lunch at another Amritsar institution, Makhans, saw a change of plan and the evening ceremony attendance was abandoned. Alison M and I headed back to the old city bazaars and the boys to rest. A hair raising tuk tuk ride at Saturday evening rush hour got us to the bazaars. Our quest was for serving dishes, which we had seen used throughout Rajasthan and beyond, and was successful. Another tuk tuk ride back to the hotel nearly lost all Alison M’s dishes: an emergency stop saw her bag of bowls disappear out of the open back of the tuk tuk bench seat and clatter over the road. Another tuk tuk driver and passenger, a motor bike rider and a pedestrian all stopped, collected and handed over the remarkably undented tableware. Phew!

The optician’s recommendation for our dinner venue was strange. A European style cafe in a modern part of the city with a vast non-Indian menu . . . But none of us were hungry, too full of Makhans fish and chicken, so we eat sparingly and people watched instead

The following morning sees us bid farewell to Amritsar, and off to Delhi – and then the  final leg of this Indian adventure for the four of us. But that is for another time

Until then, Namaste

ALISON

HARIDWAR and RISHIKESH

Hotel, shower, lunch, no beer. Haridwar becomes Horridwar in Andy’s travelogue.  After an early afternoon siesta we set off to explore the town and especially the ghats, the terraces leading to the holy Ganga water where pilgrims come to bathe and offerings are made. Our first surprise is that the ghats are along the canal, not the river itself. But the canal is fed by the river so it is Ganges water. Our second surprise is that the town is much less decorated than we expected for the festival of lights. Buildings in Jaipur were colourfully ablaze. Perhaps more holy, less commercial? Our third surprise is that the town is shabby, poor, dirty – we were anticipating something which appears visibly more loved as befits its holy status but perhaps that is just unknowing westerners projecting our sensibilities. Alison M and I are a bit, well disappointed! The boys are just soaking it up, Horridwar

We walk one side of the canal as dusk falls and cross to the other to experience – witness – the holy puja. It is hard to estimate how many are gathered, chanting, praying, releasing offerings into the water. It must be in the tens of thousands. Our obvious alien presence is unremarked, tolerated. We look and listen for a while and as a gathering are observed: there are armed guards in watchtowers

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After what appears to be the main part of the ceremony people leave the ghats and we amble with them, and walk through an immense bazaar – there are stalls laden with foodstuffs, savoury and sweet, huge amounts. Who will buy and eat them? All types of jewellry and clothing, household goods and hardware. It goes on and on. We are not unduly hassled to buy and would have enjoyed browsing more but for scooters driving through and their incessant hooting . . . It is an aspect of Indian life as so far experienced that none of us have acclimatised to 

We have dinner at a hotel restaurant where we dine alone except for an Englishwoman, from Hammersmith with whom we chat and exchange our brief Haridwar experiences. She is of Indian extraction and has come to Delhi for a few days expressly to make this 24 hour journey to Haridwar at Diwali and has not been disappointed

An early night, we need to recover from THAT bus ride and tomorrow is the main Diwali day, we want to be on form. At breakfast we plan our next two days. Haridwar has a cable car which takes you to the top of an overlooking hill and a temple. We decide to visit, dressed in our Diwali finery. 

Tomorrow we will go to Rishikesh, a yoga and ashram heartland made famous by the Beatles.

Walking through the town to discover that cable car station we discover it is much bigger than we thought or explored yesterday and busy, noisy, smelly, litter strewn as we have come to expect. People are very friendly and “happy Diwali” greetings exchanged frequently as we walk

The cable car station and waiting area are immaculate and there is an orderly queuing system. We board, and it is just like a ski bubble lift but we approach a temple and see monkeys . . . . 

The temple is not what we expected or like any other we have yet visited. It is a series of small  shrines around the hilltop within an enclosed area. Most have images of one of the Hindu gods, burning incense and sometimes a small fire. Pilgrims/devotees make money offerings at a shrine or at shrines of their choice and receive blessings from the resident holy man – these blessings appear mostly being lightly beaten by a stick on the back. We were grateful for the advice given by a charming local student as we arrived looking perplexed about where to leave our shoes and why we were being asked for money to look after them “don’t leave your shoes with him, there is an official place over there and don’t give money at the temples unless you want to make an offering – everyone will ask you but it is not necessary . . . .” 

We walked down the hill enjoying the air and the countryside and had many exchanges of “what country” and requests to be in selfies. It was blissfully traffic free until just above the town and quiet as a consequence. Monkeys kept us entertained

Fireworks are a big part of Diwali as we discovered are fire crackers and enormous explosive bangs. One such occurred at the end of our very delicious lunch in a very local cafe – it was loud enough to startle us and the other diners pout of our seats but was just a fire cracker (we had been more unsettled then we thought by the presence of throes armed guards yesterday)

As dusk fell we again walked along the ghats, taking the opposite bank and opposite direction from where we watched the puja yesterday. There are some tent dwellers, people playing cards, and a good whiff of that other type of ganja . . . We head for a footbridge to discover it is under construction and the canal side path expires. There is a small track through a wooded area, it looks a short step to the road where we can cross the road bridge. We join the track, Roberto up front, Andy in the rear, phone torches lighting our way. Stamp your feet to make sure any snakes move out of the way calls Andy. Then,  guys – i wasn’t joking about the snakes . . . And we turn to watch the last few feet of a fat-arm thick snake slither into the trees. Andy had a good look at it coiled on the edge of the path (we three had walked past, oblivious) and saw it unspool and move, a good eight feet. He later identified it as a rock python. 

We diced with traffic on the road bridge and walked back along the other side of the canal, dodging firecrackers and looking for a dinner venue. The one we chose, down a dark side street where another heart stopping explosion ricocheted round the walls as walked, was Fawlty Towers reincarnated. We were the first people to arrive for dinner. We ordered lime sodas. There was one waiter. The restaurant was on the second floor. It seemed his drinks service was a few floors blow. More people arrived. They sat. We ordered. They ordered. They were served. It transpires most of our order was unavailable. We changed our order. Other people arrived. They ordered. They were served. “Yours comes soon”. We wait. All other people eat and leave. We receive most of our order. We eat and leave! The town looks quite pretty tonight in parts

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All the monkeys have come out in the street on which our hotel is located. They are being fed by one local resident and seem unperturbed by the fire crackers. We see very young children playing with matches and fireworks. This is India. It is Diwali

The next morning a dead horse is in the street a few yards up from our hotel. The consensus is one of the loud explosions saw it out. We leave in a car for Rishikesh, wondering if some poor family’s livelihood had died with the horse, and how long it will be left in the street

Rishikesh feels like a breathe of holiday fresh air! It is about an hour north, the main town straddles the side of a hill. Yoga, Ayurveda and alternative lifestyles abound. We fortify ourselves with delicious juices/smoothies/coffee and very hot hot chocolate and then set off to explore. The delightful cafe owner tells us how to drop down to the Ganges, cross a footbridge, walk to a second footbridge and return. The atmosphere is tranquil and festive. The Ganges looks green and inviting. The footbridge is packed – humans, cows, cavorting monkeys and scooters of course – footbridge pah!!

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The walk through the stalls, shops, ashrams, temples is very enjoyable. Low hassle and a little shopping takes place. We walk to the Ganges edge and paddle.

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More cows, more monkeys, another busy footbridge and then a tuk tuk out of town to a rooftop terrace for lunch – and a beer!

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Back to Horridwar and our hotel, the dead horse has been removed. We pack and head off, another journey, another adventure. But that is for another time

Until then, Namaste

ALISON

PRECIOUS MEMORIES*

Haridwar for Diwali. The second most holy city on the Ganga after Benares. A perfect plan except the logistics. From Jaipur no direct train, no direct flight. Both require a connection and wait in Delhi. Could we have planned our route round Rajasthan differently to make arrival in Haridwar easier? Perhaps, but by the time we appreciated the difficulty we had, in our eyes, planned the perfect more or less anti-clockwise route around our Rajasthani destinations, and booked some of hotels  hotels and trains. And this is India. There will be a solution. Car and driver? Of course, but a minimum 10 hours plus stops, potentially cramped with four of us and our luggage and three of us on the back seat sliding round the bends;  Roberto in the front (he has long legs) travelling either with eyes closed or risking a heart attack at every other overtaking manouvre. Not immediately appealing. 

The guidebook reveals a direct luxury bus daily. It is overnight and has sleeping berths which can be pre-booked. Alison M researches and buys tickets for four sleeping berths on line. We will arrive in Haridwar the morning of 6th November, the day before the main Diwali festival, and be present for all celebrations.  Alison M and Roberto have travelled by luxury overnight bus in Argentina, what can possibly go wrong?

We bid farewell to Herve, our French host and his wonderful manager Sitaram, at our gorgeous Amber guesthouse. Wrap up warm for the bus says Sitaram, the aircon can be vicious. Our bus is non aircon. Oh, says Sitaram, slightly incredulous. Herve wishes us luck and asks to know how we get on. . . 

The scheduled departure time is 20:30 from central Jaipur. We know the traffic will be bad because it always is and because of the number of people travelling to or from Jaipur for the Diwali holidays. Lovely Manoj arrives at 18:30 to drive us to the bus pick up point. With some difficulty we find it, it is not the depot we expected but a travel agency desk on a REALLY busy main road, under a really busy flyover. Manoj looks concerned to leave us but we reassure him it is fine and send him on his way. Is the bus on time we ask the man on the agency desk. We receive the head waggle in reply – is that a yes waggle or a maybe waggle, we still cannot tell. Does the bus start in Jaipur? We receive the head waggle that we think is yes. . . 

We wait in the road, with our luggage. We look for a nearby cafe or bar but there is nothing and we do not want to go too far as we have no plan B and cannot risk missing the bus. 20:30 arrives. Is the bus late Alison M asks the man. Yes. How late? 9 0’clock. We wait. The noise from the traffic is horrendous exacerbated by the ceaseless horn tooting, we are all getting scratchy eyes and throats from the pollution. . . 

21:00 comes and goes. Grumpy agency man will not answer Alison M’s enquiries as to expected hour of arrival. I try asking, offering sweets at the same time. He takes the sweets. I get no answer either . . . 

Andy and Roberto try to pass the time with traffic reporting and direction (watch the videos I will post/upload/attach after the link to this blog as a supplement). . . 

Suddenly, just before 22:00 there is frantic activity in front of the travel agency desk and we are told to follow a man to the other side of the really busy, cacophonous highway as the bus has arrived. In huge haste (we have no Plan B remember!) we hurtle ourselves across the four lanes of traffic and board the bus . . . 

It is packed. There are sleeping compartments in two tiers, single on one side, double on the other. Our berth numbers correspond with two double, top tier berths, we slide back the glazed privacy panels and discover a family in each of them! It has to be said they move out with good grace we are not sure where to. . . 

And we are off – before we can satisfactorily stow luggage, claim into our berths or brush them out (the coverings to the cushion/thin mattress are really grubby). It is very quickly apparent that the bus has no shock absorbers, no suspension. There is serious, uncomfortable, constant jolting. I try to read but cannot keep the page still enough. I try to listen to a radio 4 serialisation of a book, it is far too noisy, the bus driver tooting his horn almost incessantly. . . 

We travel through the night. There are two stops, one possibly for fuel, one under a fly over, to enable the men who need to to relieve themselves against a wall each time (this is India!) but what about us women? Eventually at about 7 a.m. there is a stop with a cafe and facilities. Desperation writ large on our faces Alison M and I were pushed to the front of the queue for the facilities (this is India, people are very kind). Alison M was so desperate that she had previously started constructing emergency relief facilities with two empty water bottles but that was a no go: did I mention the bus has no shock absorbers . . .

Capable of speech again, we moan about the bus, the length of time it has taken so far, the absence of stops for loo breaks, the absence of information about the timing of any breaks but are stopped in our diatribe when Alison M says that she has enjoyed it all – with the exception of the lack of a loo break – and has happily passed the night on her front, looking out of the window or sleeping . . . 

We board the bus again and there are two changes. A busker has boarded and sings (well -ish) and seeks money for his singing. Eventually the bus stops to let him off. And the bus horn has almost-died. It now emits a strangulated moan rather than an eardrum piercing blast . . . 

We pull into the bus depot at Haridwar about 10 a.m. 12 hours after starting the journey, epic to us but actually not at all by local standards! We smile, happy the journey is at an and and certainly not to be repeated by the four of us at least (Andy and I have an as yet unplanned further four weeks so who knows). . . 

Hotel, shower, lunch and beer say the boys. Alison M and I exchange looks. They really have not done their research have they . . .  .

Until next time, Namaste

Alison

*the title for this blog was provided by lovely Dr Ravleen, in Delhi. It was her response to Andy’s brief wattsapp to her telling her of the journey and our arrival . . . 

JAIPUR and AMBER

We leave Ranthambore exhilarated and ready to tackle Rajasthani city life again. Our third train journey takes us to Jaipur, the pink city, center of precious gem trading and cutting. A civilized two hours 10 minutes journey  leaving at 13:10. We were accompanied by the man from the hotel to make sure we boarded at the correct place

The train was one which had started its journey a long way and a long time before our stop and was continuing a long way and a long time after Jaipur. We had a good while at the station as it was 40 minutes late arriving – and witnessed trains crammed like we have seen on documentaries, carriages with bars across windows rather than glass, people packed like sardines, hanging out of windows and doors. The only thing missing is people and livestock on the roof. Our train when it arrives is less crowded and we head for our pre booked seats in class 3AC. They are full. In fact the eight seat carriage in which our seats are booked is full. After much examination of our tickets by the seated passengers it seems acknowledged that we have reservations and are in the correct place. People shuffle round and squeeze up so we can sit – and we are four or five to a bench  seat intended for three. This is India! Over the course of the next three hours (the train was more late arriving in Jaipur) we learn, through some English and sign language, that the men in our seats  are railway workers from southern India and have been at a conference somewhere up the line, and are taking the the opportunity to visit Jaipur. Only we appreciated the irony …

On the advice of some friends who visited last February we have chosen to stay in Amber, about 12ks outside Jaipur and home to the two magnificent forts which were the state capital before Jai Singh II created a new city (citing the need for space and water), now Jaipur. Jaipur is big, the biggest city we have visited since Delhi. Our friends tell us it is noisy and polluted  (and we hear the same from others). Our accommodation is a small guesthouse  and on arrival we are underwhelmed, the location is on the far edge of Amber town, and next to an active building site; it feels potentially  noisy and isolated; the bedrooms are small and the the bathrooms very small; the doors and shutters are heavy dark wood and there is no glass in the windows – and there are curious monkeys about . . . . However it takes almost no time at all for its charms to become apparent. It is immaculately clean and tastefully if simply decorated and furnished. There are four different sitting/eating areas, three in beautifully planted courtyards and one on the roof, with great views back over the town and one of the forts. The French owner and his Indian manager and the cook (especially the manager – Alison M and I both want to take him to run our homes) are delightful hosts and the beer is cold and food amazing. It becomes exactly what we had been recommended: a glorious respite from the clamour and chaos of Jaipur

Having witnessed the immense traffic on our run from the station to the guesthouse, and because many of the places we want to visit are in Jaipur are distant from each other, we arrange through the guesthouse a car and driver for the next two days. They book their usual driver, Manoj, who is charming, a local and knows his way about, never insists we should should visit his recommended craft/silver/textile shops (although we did go to one he proposed on our second day) and seems more than happy to take us wherever our research and guide books suggest. Over the course of the two days we have many conversations and learn he is resolutely unmarried despite his mother and sisters’ best efforts. He wants a foreign wife. Alison M seems to have been appointed the role of matchmaker/wife finder . . . .

We have three full days so allocate two to Jaipur with Manoj’s assistance and the third to Amber which we can explore on foot

The old city of Jaipur is traffic and noise filled. Probably more traffic congested than anywhere we have seen and the sights are distant from each other – we are glad of Manoj and his car! We visit the Gaitor – the tombs of the maharanis – in a tranquil part of the day and it is lovely

We visit the city palace and find it less interesting than Jaisalmer and Udaipur’s equivalents although the costume museum within it (no photographs allowed!) was fascinating. Maybe our guide did not inspire us but it just all looked a bit tired .. . . Or maybe we have seen so much it did not sufficiently excite …

We have a good lunch at what our guidebook describes as a Jaipur institution and plan the next day and a half – bangle alley, the silver market, the water palace (Jak Mahal), palace of the winds (Hawa Mahal), the observatory (Jantar Mantar) and various stops for refreshment along the way. We manage it all except the observatory. 

I particularly enjoyed bangle alley and purchasing traditional lac (resin) bangles. A narrow bazaar lined for a good 200m with bangle shops Alison M and I chose a shop, sat and were shown many and bought quite a few! They come in many designs and are fitted by being stretched to the correct size over a small coal brazier. The whole process was very civilized, we drank chai, had a chat to other, local, customers who came and went in the time we were there; I have worn one set of bangles pretty much daily since and they are frequently commented upon and admired. Sadly my nine are now six as they are quite brittle and break easily when bashed/dropped!

While we were bangle shopping the men were taken to a local small temple – apparently very non-descript resembling a dusty shed – where a gentleman devotee fell into conversation and offered them special herbs from his nearby shop “to shrink lady parts”

Bangle alley morphed into a more general bazaar and we could sense lots of Diwali preparations – people buying sweets, new clothes,  jewellry – and was  used by many scooters notwithstanding it’s extreme narrowness

We walked the exterior of the palace of the winds, which is an iconic building in Jaipur, but it is on an extremely busy road and hard to get a good camera angle – it looked very sad to us and at street level its frontage is obscured by stalls selling a whole range of souvenirs and clothing, being aggressively hawked . . . We consoled ourselves with kulfi and then a rooftop bar

The water palace is much more photogenic but is not open for visits; we were there on a Sunday and it seems a popular local destination for a weekend promenade and a snack

At the end of our second day we go to mighty Nahargarh Fort, we walk its walls and look across its battlements to the city of Jaipur below and watch the sunset with cold beers on the roof terrace of a restaurant housed within its walls; we photograph the mischievous monkeys, playing across the pepper pot minarets. It is very scenic and atmospheric

Our day in Amber started with elephants. They are used to ferry tourists from the bottom of the fort walls to the palace entrance within its walls. We had read about the controversies surrounding their use, and how they are treated when being broken to ride and afterwards, and although not willing to support the practice by riding one (and the walk up is good for us!) it is an irresistible sight watching them being taken from the elephant village which is beyond our guest house into the Amber fort in the early morning. Roberto discovered they passed the bottom of our road on our first day during his regular early morning constitutional, Andy saw then the second morning and we all made it the third!

We visited Amber Fort and its palace. Mighty gates, four main courtyards, elaborately decorated and shady gardens. Many Islamic resonances in its design and ceramics. An astonishing open room of mirrors/mirror work. We loved it all

We walked down to the town through the rear – moon – gate and visited the Ganesha temple and the stepwell but sadly not the Annokhi museum of hand block printing in a restored haweli because on walking up to its gate we discovered it closed on Monday

Jaipur and Amber are our last stops in Rajasthan and they have not disappointed. Although in Jaipur the noise, traffic, pollution was bad it is undoubtedly a vibrant city and we are all very glad to have visited, and have left thinking there is more to see and discover. We didn’t even think about gem shopping . . .

Until next time, Namaste

ALISON

RANTHAMBORE

We left Udaipur by train, our second journey. Destination Saiwa Madhopur, the town which is the gateway to Ranthambore National Park. We have come for fresh air and countryside – and in the hope of seeing tigers.  Again the train started at our emabarcation point so we had plenty of time to settle ourselves and our luggage for the six and a half hour journey (394 km). However, as we left at 18:15 and the train continued after our stop for another six hours, getting settled meant preparing to sleep: were, like on our first journey, in an eight berth carriage and this time the other four berths were taken, by travellers who wanted at least to lie down if not sleep from the off

We were a little late arriving and delighted that our hotel, we had asked them to send a cab, also had their driver meet us at the carriage door which at 1.45 a.m, a bit dozy and with no idea where to go, was welcome. It was a quick drive to the hotel where, despite the hour, we were greeted with garlands of marigolds and offered drinks and snacks. We settled for a cup of tea and a biscuit in the room, confirmed our safari for that afternoon and headed to bed

After a leisurely late morning by the pool and with cameras and ‘phones charged we set off by open jeep: the four of us, a guide and driver. 

It was a drive of about 10k to the park gates, first along the main road which houses many hotels all catering to tourists visiting Ranthambore. It was the usual jumble of tuk tuks, motorbikes, carts (bullock, horse and camel drawn), cows, pigs, dogs. The road became increasingly quiet and forested and we saw only monkeys and then many locals heading for the temple at the top of the hill outside the park gates, some on foot most on motorbikes. Do the tigers – and leopards – know they are supposed to stay in the park confines? Our guide told us tigers would take a couple of villagers every year and googling this substantiates the statement although not necessarily in Ranthambore

The park is beautiful, parts in a valley, very wooded, and with vistas leading up to the ancient fort. We spotted many deer (spotted and Sambar) and a number of birds including a magnificent kingfisher

Although very happy being driven through the park bird and deer spotting and enjoying the magnificent countryside we are really hoping for a big cat. And then – a sighting – a flash of a face, a turn, a good view of its hind quarters and the cat disappeared into the dense trees, climbing the rocky hillside. We had had a glimpse of a leopard, too quick for any of us to snatch a photograph but exciting nonetheless and according to our guide a very rare and unusual spot

We carried on for an hour or so, beautiful scenery, crossing paths occasionally with another jeep and the drivers and guides stopped and shared information about routes and sightings. And then, as we were about to ford a small stream the whisper came from the front of the jeep “tiger tiger tiger”

We watched, scrambling to our feet and hitting camera and phone buttons as the tigress appeared from behind a tree and started to walk towards us. The guide had the driver reverse and stop and the tiger walked towards us. And this happened again, again, again. She walked towards us, we reversed, over a distance of a kilometre and for about 20 minutes. It was extraordinary and beautiful. She would occasionally stop, or mark her territory, looking at us all the while

Alison M and I, at the rear of the jeep with four big healthy men between us and the tiger, never felt at risk! It was slightly more Adrenalin inducing for Andy and Roberto but in reality none of us wanted to retreat, and the guide kept us just out of leap and bite distance whispering “challo, challo” (go,go) to the driver whenever he thought he should start reversing

The known tigers in Ranthambore number 65 and are called “T1, T2” etc. Our guide recognized “our” tiger as T39 and said the guides have named her Noor, and she is certainly very regal. Apparently she has three cubs, nearing adulthood, which were not with her this afternoon. We wondered, as she left the road, whether we might see a kill, there were many deer about who fled as Noor entered their grazing area, one young one became isolated – and we waited and watched but there was no attack and the deer called for its mother. Looking at our photographs in the jeep (the instant gratification of digital photography!!) we could see Noor looked full bellied so that deer was probably always safe that afternoon . . . .

At the end of this magical experience we continued our tour of the park, picnicked, when our guide told us there had been no tiger sightings the previous four afternoons (!) and saw many more birds, deer, views and the lake, including its crocodiles

After three and a half hours we return to our hotel, all knackered, dusty, elated, saddle sore (the roads are deeply corrugated and the jeep has little in the way of suspension). Andy and I confirm bird watching tomorrow at 6 a.m. The evening is a drink in the bar, dinner and early bed. We have hardly walked a pace but Fitbit says I have done over 23,000 steps – that must be every jolt on the rough roads in the jeep registering as a step!! Does that count?

The next morning Andy and I set off with a guide and driver again, as the sun is rising. We head in the opposite direction to the park towards a lake, created by a damn. We drive through the town proper – and it is big, messy and sprawling. Apparently it had India largest concrete production facility but that was closed, to sop its polluting side consequences, when the national park was inaugurated. Our guide tells us the abandoned works are now home to leopards who come into the village to kill cattle . . . 

After leaving the town the landscape becomes very rural, very agricultural. Our guide points out traditional – mud – housing and wall decorations. An early spot is a never seen before pied kingfisher, which we see see plummet and dive for a fish, and we have many good spots after that

It was another great drive through an interesting landscape and provided lungs full of fresh air. We could even get out of the jeep to stretch our legs unlike yesterday where that was forbidden

Back at base Alison M and Roberto had been for a walk, discovered a women’s co-operative craft centre and ordered a rug. We all walked there in the afternoon for A & R to do their deal and of course, shopping took place!Andy even found some obligingly photogenic parakeets

Ranthambore has been a marvellous interlude in our Rajasthani journey and is definitely Andy’s favourite Indian experience so far . . . . . .

Until next time, Namaste

ALISON

UDAIPUR

Bidding a fond farewell to Raas Devigarh we set off, by a rather too-small-for-four-of-us-and-our-luggage taxi, to Udaipur. Fortunately it was only a 50 minute journey because not only were we squashed it was also scary as the very young driver appeared terribly inexperienced and/or the too small car had no first gear. Plus, even though we had organised the car through our Udaipur hotel, the driver could not find it! 

Anyway we arrived and rooms/bathrooms are absolutely fine if basic after Taj and Raas, it is a small family owned hotel in the middle of the old city, chosen largely so we could walk to all the sites we wanted to see. We set off exploring on our first afternoon.  After the rural quiet and absolute cleanliness of Raas Devigargh we are back in the thick of it: open sewers, street latrines, rubbish, cows, dogs and shit all over everywhere and again incessant hooting from endless tuk tuks and scooters. BUT: on that first afternoon we navigated the narrow streets and all their obstacles, saw monkeys, avoided buying all the souvenirs you could possibly imagine for sale and reached the landing stage at the lake for a “sunset cruise” of Udaipur’s lake, after the city palace it’s major tourist draw

The lake is delightful and calm, and houses in the middle the Lake Palace Hotel. On seeing it, from Roberto: “Why are we not staying there? I think you failed in your research Alisons” – he survived the cruise without being tipped overboard!!

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The cruise was a gentle 40 or so minutes and we had great views of the city palace – our destination tomorrow – glowing in the setting sun and watching the sun set behind the Aravelli hills

Rooftop bars and restaurants are plentiful and we retire suitably refreshed although ear battered from traffic noise after the walk back to our hotel. Andy and I also try to visit the vintage car museum housing the maharaja’s fleet but get there five minutes after the 20.30 last ticket, and the ticket seller is intransigent although the museum is still open. One for another trip

The next morning we head on foot to the City Palace museum. It is a calm and delightful walk through the City Palace compound, very little traffic, no horns and clean. It is a tree lined walk along the lake and birds are plentiful, including ones familiar from home:

The city palace is another stunning Rajasthani edifice and the palace museum vast and fascinating. It has beautiful Mughal architecture, shady courtyards and colonnades, extraordinary ceramics, a women’s quarter where purdah was observed. . . . And again, is of course hugely photogenic:

In one of those small world coincidences at the entrance to the peacock courtyard I rub shoulders with a former director of a client with whom I had worked closely for over 10 years, Xenia (Car Griffiths – ex Links) who with her husband (another retired solicitor!) is holidaying in Rajasthan. We catch up briefly and as our paths will not cross again agree to meet in the new year in London. How far off that seems although we are at the very end of October already

Before leaving the city palace complex we visit the Crystal Gallery – no photographs allowed. A dusty exhibition of the most extraordinary collection of English crystal (furniture, lighting, all manner of tableware and accessories) ordered from F.C. Osler & Co of Birmingham by the then maharani in 1887. She died before it arrived and it was left unpacked for 110 years. For me the story was more intriguing than the crystal itself, that was all just too much!

We ventured into the busy old city out of the palace compound and walked across the footbridge to the far side of the lake, another rooftop and then a lakeside bar, another great sunset, another rooftop restaurant for dinner. Our walk back to our hotel this evening was through the calm and quiet palace complex rather than through the traffic and hooter riddled streets and it was very beautiful

On our last morning in Udaipur we watched monkeys frolicking in the trees by the lake making frequent dashes to steal the offerings left at a lakeside temple

We walked through numerous shops and stalls and bought some modest souvenirs. We visited the Ganesha temple where, despite our very best efforts to avoid it we were unwillingly attached as if by magnets to a man who insisted he wasn’t a guide, worked and worshipped at the temple and wanted nothing more than to share it with us

We knew this would not be the full story but after visiting and admiring the temple carvings, we politely declined to visit his art shop and when that failed (it was in the temple walls – it seemed to rude and brutal just to walk past!) and our protestations that we would not buy were met with assurances of “just look no buy” we of course left a very grumpy temple go-er when we did not buy. His stuff was good, but Alison M and I had willingly entered an art shop not 50 metres before the temple and had a delightful shopping experience there so we were not in the market! You know its going to happen but feel helpless to stop it and everyone ends up cross. This is India!!

We decided to head away from the tourist sites and explored the local back streets and markets, evidence of preparations for Diwali in hand. A colourful, noisy and chaotic walk

We have one more Rajasthani city left on this trip but before that is our visit to a national park, which is for next time.

Until then, Namaste

Alison

DELWARA – RAAS DEVIGARH

Our next destination was the venue of Alison M’s 60th birthday celebrations (one month late) and two days of hedonistic relaxation; she had read an article about the hotel in the Sydney paper and decided she would like to celebrate there – we were more than willing accomplices!

We travelled by car from Jodhpur, a changing landscape from desert scrub to the rolling Aravalli hills to immense areas of quarrying – marble – causing the disappearance of those same hills as well as the scarring of the landscape. For at least the last 10 miles of the run in to Delwara the road was lined with cutting yards and showrooms for every type of marble product . . . .quite extraordinary to see

We spotted lots of monkeys along the route but our driver was oblivious to our squeals of excitement so there were no photo opportunities, apart from through the car windows, so no good photos. It was however bliss driving through clean country air with the windows open!

Raas Devigarh was a fort. The approach is through a village, and the compound is walled, with big gates. The external appearance is towering, impressive, still very fort-like and belying its modern, luxurious interiors. We were were showered with fragrant rose petals as we walked through the internal gate, which gave a hint of the pleasures ahead!

Within the compound are glorious flower and vegetable gardens, courtyards with original frescoes, a beautiful pool

One of the joys of the stay was being able to walk directly out of the fort grounds – we explored the neighbouring village of Delwara with its stepwell and walked into the countryside around the fort, we still encountered litter but also no traffic, clean air and lots of birds

There is a Jain temple complex in the village, made of all white marble, intricately carved. Alison and I visited but we were not allowed to photograph it.  The men were told they could not enter wearing shorts, but they were not particularly disappointed!

The other three walked on, shaking off two local men who had attached themselves to us to practice their English (for which they requested money!) and I returned to the hotel gardens to write a blog and swim and admire the views

Alison M’s birthday dinner saw us dress in our Indian finery bought in Jodhpur. We started in the very lovely Durbar bar and then ate in a private area at the very top of the hotel. The steps to it were decorated with marigold and rose leaves as well as candles and the evening was a delight. We drank Chandon Rose (Indian grown and made) and ate salad from the hotel gardens, tandoor kebabs, chicken, fish and vegetable thalis, and a birthday cake, a surprise from the hotel 

One last detail to share, Andy and I wore traditional Churidar pants (trousers) with our tunics. Women’s Churidar are long in the legs to give the appearance of bangles at the ankles. However, no one has yet been able to explain to us what all the extra fabric in the seat is for:

Raas Devigarh has been a fabulous interlude, next stop, Udaipur and back to the serious business of art, architecture, history and city life in Rajasthan . . . 

Until then, Namaste

ALISON

JODHPUR

After our relaxing train journey (see blog no. 7!) we descend at Jodhpur. The taxi sent by the hotel awaited us at the exit. Loaded into the car, we set off for a few days of Indian luxe (well luxe for us) and to explore the blue city

First impressions on car journey on our approx 3k drive to hotel:  wider streets, cleaner, more trees, no cows, fewer pavement dwellers. Hotel big and luxurious. Quite modern and a bit corporate in feel (especially dining rooms) BUT gloriously friendly and professional welcome from lovely smiling staff, huge comfortable bedrooms and fabulous swimming pool. It is about 3K from the old city where we expect to see blue – the hotel is like a Neapolitan cake in shades of pink, yellow and coffee

We vegged out by pool for the afternoon and then took a tuktuk, easily hailed at the hotel gates, to the old city and our selected restaurant, another rooftop, with our first view of the spectacular fort, floodlit. 

After dinner we walked back through still lively streets and picked up a tuktuk by the clock tower. Some trauma as the driver driver didn’t know where our hotel is but fortunately we recognized some nearby roadside shrines, a coffee shop and the overpass/highway and were able to direct him!

Second impressions from the two tuktuk rides: Jodhpur, especially approaching and in the old city, is sooo noisy. It seems almost everyone has lost the use of the lower half of their body, replaced it with a scooter or a tuk tuk and they are all moving ceaselessly and tooting their horns  . . . And to my ears the toots are longer, louder and shriller than Jaisalmer or Bikaner. A cacophony, and quiet Mandawa a distant memory. Also we spotted many pavement dwellers including, at night at least, on the central reservation of the four lane highways leading in to the old city. The air is heavy with smoke and smog

The next morning, fortified by an early swim and a good breakfast at the hotel we took two tuk tuks to Mehrangargh, the fort, up a long and winding road. It is a stunning sight and site “built by angels and giants” – Kipling’s words. It appears to rise Towering seamlessly from the rock on which it stands (and we read the building materials were chiseled from that rock). It is also very clean, very calm and very photogenic

The fort is no longer inhabited and so visiting is a very different experience from Jaisalmer. Mehrangarh has now much more the air of an ancient, abandoned fortress kept beautifully and with an excellent museum housed within it’s palace (for which we used the very good audio tour). I loved the elephant howdahs so richly detailed, the palanquins, the Ganesh representations, a magnificent guard, royal cots, the stained glass and intricately carved screens in the women’s quarters, the rather bizarrely Christmas bauble decorated maharajas’ sleeping quarters. So much to see, so much detail to admire . . . 

We walked out of the fort down through Chokelao Bargh, the restored gardens which were green, calm, refreshing. There was a good cafe for our usual beers and  lime sodas and from which we spotted our first monkeys, langurs. We saw them on a wall and then could see the trees moving where they were jumping. We walked towards them and found them rampaging across a marquis being erected in the gardens for a festival. We spent a while following them, they are so very entertaining to watch

We finished our walk through the gardens and then explored the residential parts of the old city which was not as blue as we expected but still fascinating. Lots of life visible from the streets, more cows now (we think perhaps they had been rounded up from the new city for a festival), lots of children finishing school, all friendly. Sights, sounds and smells with which we are becoming familiar in old city life in India; I am not sure I will ever get – could ever get – used to the incessant hooting though

We have had two more days to explore Jodhpur and loved it. We have shopped – outfits for Alison M’s birthday celebration at our next stop (see next blog) and spices; we have wandered more monuments (loved Jaswant Thada “the mini Taj Mahal”; underwhelmed by those parts we could see of Umaid Bhagwan Palace, were dismayed at all the dead fish and rubbish in the otherwise beautifully restored stepwell) and the colorful markets. We have enjoyed more rooftop dinners admiring that spectacular fort view and eaten delicious vegetable curries and tandoori chicken; we have to our surprise used, easily, Uber for taxis when a tuk tuk wouldn’t do

Jodhpur has been a very different experience to Jaisalmer, it feels more modern. I am outvoted: it is everyone else’s favourite but for now my heart remains with Jaisalmer

Until next time, Namaste

Alison

For the first time this trip we are traveling by train rather than by car and with driver. We are at Jaisalmer station 40 minutes ahead of our 7 a.m. departure for Jodhpur and the train, The Jaisalmer Express, arrives at the platform much as we do. We are early because we are unsure what to expect but anticipate chaos. In fact all is very calm and we wait for the sleepy passengers, who have travelled over-night, to emerge so that we can board our allocated carriage. 

The railway network is vast and complex. I tried – twice – to register for the necessary account to be able to book tickets on-line but failed on both occasions. I then took the easy option offered by our friend Ravleen in Delhi: use the travel against she uses to make all rail ticket bookings!

We asked for the best seats available on each of our journeys. This one is “3AC”. This category translates as compartments in a designated coach, each with a three tier sleeper on each side of the compartment, with two extra seats/sleeping berths at right angles and with air-conditioning

Although an express, the train stops frequently and takes its scheduled nearly six hours to complete the approx 280 km journey to Jodhpur. We have all eight seats/berths in our section of the coach to ourselves but are joined for part of the journey by five children. The children belong to three Kolkata families all holidaying together in Rajasthan and they despatched one of their fathers to speak with us first then, when we were known to be friendly, popped in and out to look at and converse with us. They were absolutely delightful and all spoke good English, very necessary to any meaningful communication as our Hindi is still pretty much non existent (we are trying: the minimum courtesies and have learnt some geographical/menu terms!!).

At one point we could could hear  them singing songs and when they joined us again they explained they were traditional Hindi songs and songs from films. One of the girls was volunteered to sing something in English and sang a song by an artist we are all to old to know. Asking for a song in return Andy asked if they knew the film Jungle Book. They had all seen it so he sang “I’m the king of the swingers”. The applause was plentiful but none of the kids joined in; they had seen the recent film and never the Disney musical

We all wished each other happy holidays as we descended at Jodhpur about which there will be more from me next time. Until then Namaste

Alison

We have thoroughly enjoyed our three days exploring Jaisalmer, becoming adept at dodging unwanted tuktuk rides and guides (well almost) and for Alison M and I bartering (not especially hard or successfully) to buy textiles (throws, clothes).

There is good food including chicken and mutton, curried and tandoor, welcome to we four carnivores after several days of an almost exclusively vegetarian diet. Beers whenever required, glorious weather – mid 30s hot in the middle of the day but not humid, lovely breeze in the evenings, roof top bars inside and outside the fort to admire the views and enjoy the food, the beers and fresh lime sodas 

Exploring the fort has given me what I sense is a taste of medieval life, much more so than holidays exploring well preserved Tuscan hill villages where I have previously sensed the medieval. Here people live cheek by jowl, there are open drains, litter in most corners and all the smells the consequence of that. Cows and dogs roam, shit and sleep freely. Hawkers roll carts and call out their wares, women and children collect and pick over rubbish for anything useful or, I guess, saleable

We can see from walking the streets makeshift homes and stalls as well as more substantial homes and shops. The only distraction from the medieval is the presence of tuktuks and scooters and the constant blare of horns to alert you to their presence

We visit the fort palace museum. Astonishing architecture, carvings, decoration, history. We decide against a guide because of the well publicised, highly rated audio guide (yes, OK – immediately taking us out of the medieval!). Nonetheless we find ourselves attached to a young guide who insists on accompanying us to the ticket desk finally whispering that if he presents us the palace will pay him 20 rupees a head for taking customers…

It is hard to gauge what people earn/need to survive but 500 rupees a day for a driver seems to be a good wage so earning 80 rupees in five minutes for doing very little seems a good return for him (its about 94 rupees to the £1 currently)

The young guide leaving us for his next visitors and we set off to visit the fort palace, ear phones in. Another photographic feast

We read to prepare for a visit to the Jain temples: no leather, dress respectfully, no shoes to be worn inside. Of the complex of seven temples three are open to visitors, the remainder are just for Jains. We arrive and at the ticket desk are told no water can be taken into the temple and a man shows us where we can leave our water bottles for collection later, hands us our tickets and proceeds to guide us through the three open temples …. an inadvertent guide from our perspective but a practicing Jain, apparently knowledgable and with good English

The temples are another visual feast and we learn something of the Jain practices and history: 24 prophets, each with its own symbol (the moon prophet is number 23, the cobra prophet is number 12), all are worshipped for different reasons/potential benefits; Jains strict vegetarians to the extent that no food is taken between dusk and dawn in case bugs (our guide referred to “mosquites”) are eaten and for the same reason Jains eat nothing which grows under ground (mosquitoes may have burrowed into such vegetables/fruits/nuts). Holy men and women (each a sadhu) are celibate and have no physical contact of any kind with anyone other than another sadhu of their own sex. Our guide explained he has a sister who is a sadhu and when she visits the family no one can hug or kiss her or even shake her hand. They are people of commerce and historically funded the Rajput princes providing financing for the forts and palaces, armies and arms. For this reason their temples are found within the fort precincts

The intricately carved stone temples and marble prophets are all photogenic and again I will spare you my complete library but I hope you enjoy this selection

Next stop Jodhpur. Until then Namaste

Alison