8th Week In India - Three Forts and a Temple

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The end of our eighth week sees us leaving the 'Golden City' of Jaisalmer, Rajasthan, under cloudy skies with a few showers. According to the Nepali waiter in the rooftop restaurant overlooking the desert, it hasn't rained here since last year. Indeed, this outpost town only 100 kms from the Pakistan border is surrounded by bone-dry desert and little that is green. The clouds today are unusual as is the lightning and thunder.
The five hundred year-old fort at Jaisalmer is built of yellow sandstone on a huge rock of the same material - hence the 'Golden City'. Included in the fort walls are the intricately carved stone palace, the homes of 300 or so families who have lived here since the beginning of the town, many colourful textile shops with dangerously beautiful goods and a number of quaint little hotels. The narrow flagstoned or cobbled streets are too small even for autorickshaws so we walked practically every pungent street. The plumbing system in the fort is overwhelmed and we were pleased to be staying in a very comfortable, less odiferous area at the base of the walls outside.
We began the week in Udaipur, the 'white city' of lakes. Our driver for the next ten days picked us up and took us to what was supposed to be a 'marble factory'. It was all that and more as we met a young Jain at his showroom who was into just about every business conceivable including carved marble animals small and large, carved and inlaid marble furniture, carved wood pieces and large carved marble landscape pieces. When I asked about flooring and slabs he invited us to go to 'the factory'. We jumped into his car and drove to the outskirts of town where all the marble factories receive their huge blocks from the quarries in the hills and process them into mainly inch thick slabs 4 ft x 8 ft - although it was more like 5 x 9. He showed us the gangsaws, the polishers, the inventory of slabs of every colour of marble and sandstone. We talked of containers and costs to ship to North America. For a passionate stone mason it was the ultimate experience. We went back to the showroom where he showed us a computer presentation of a very large renovation project he is doing creating a multi-million rupee antique-looking 5-star hotel. We left with his white marble business card and visions of grandeur of possible future business.
Evidently the Jains are the very hard-working, astute business caste of Hinduism. They are non-violent to the point of sometimes wearing a mask over their mouths so they won't accidently inhale an insect. The Brahmins are the priests and spiritual leaders who need the Jains to finance the construction of temples. There is also a warrior caste whom, historically, the Jains have financed for defence. The Jains keep the money flowing and are usually very wealthy.
We headed out of town on the road to Jodphur but we had some stops along the way. Driving through green valleys of terraced small wheat fields surrounded with never-ending dry-stacked stone walls and brown desert mountains, we passed little villages with uniformed school children washing their lunch dishes at the hand pump in front of the school; men with huge orange turbans and white lungiis drove teams of water buffalo pulling one-sod plows and women in colourful saris and the modest 'dupatta' headcovering herded goats, weeded and planted in the fields.
Our destination, the first of the three forts, was Kumbalgarh at the top of a mountain range at an elevation of 3000 ft. This five hundred year old fort is encompassed by a 36 km wall - second longest wall in the world after the Great Wall. We snaked up the switch-backed roads, through the mountain passes to the gates and climbed up to the top bastions of the fort for views to the horizon in every direction. We could see down the other side of the range to Ranakhpur, our eventual destination for the day only 18 km away - as the crow flies. To get there, however, the road was some 60 km across country through a plateau of small villages with the sun low in the sky. At every village we saw buffaloes harnessed to a capstan with the driver behind. The buffaloes walked in a circle to turn the capstan which, through differential gears, powered a chain of buckets that lifted water from a well to be collected in pots by multicoloured women who took the water home balanced on their heads. In the setting sun, it was a photographer's dream.
Ranakphur is the home of a carved, three-storey white marble Jain temple with no fewer than 1444 marble pillars of which no two are alike. The temple is set in a protected forest in the mountains. Our hotel in Ranakhpur was another dream as it had a lovely pool and large clean rooms with marble floors and stained glass windows for C$35 a night - a bit beyond our budget but what the heck. We stayed for two nights, taking in the temple the next day which was celebrating a festival where all the local tribes visited in their colourful finery.
The drive to Jodphur began in the mountains and then on to our first look at the scrubby flat desert. We travelled on a two-lane national highway choked with truck traffic belching black diesel smoke. We shared the highway with herds of wandering cows and scarlet-turbanned men with 12 ft long sticks herding flocks of black goats. We had to brake often to let oncoming buses and trucks get back in their lane. Rather disconcerting were the scenes of disastrous accidents with smashed, burned-out hulks of vehicles and loads strewn about the road. In the west we stress 'defensive' driving whereas in India they specialise in 'offensive' driving and seem unconcerned with the consequences.
Eighty km from Jodhpur most of the traffic veared off toward Jaipur and we crossed an even flatter and drier desert with only the occasional chai shop. Jodhpur is a bustling, noisy, smog-ridden city at the centre of which is the huge red Mehrangarh Fort on a massive red rock. The old walled city surrounding the fort is a warren of narrow streets we became intimate with as we searched for over two hours for our hotel. Jodphur is the 'blue city' as many of the traditional homes are painted a pale indigo. We quickly dropped our packs in our room and our driver took us up to the fort for a tour before it closed at sunset. This time the intricate carvings and balconies of the palace, with fine stone lattice work are all of red sandstone.
We left the next day for Jaisalmer and the third fort along a roadway of red sandstone quarries that went on for km after km. More endless dry-stacked stone walls that we never tired of.
The four hour drive to Jaisalmer took us through some very large green fields with grains and hay which eventually gave way to large, rippled sand dunes. As this part of the country sticks out into Pakistan, there is a large military presence. We passed convoys of green-camouflaged, canvas-covered trucks full of Indian Army soldiers going to or coming from the 'front'. About 75 km from Jaisalmer, the red sandstone changed abrubtly to yellow sandstone.
Our driver took us 40 km past the city to a small village in the desert where we stayed in a traditional round hut with thatched conical roof for the night. We walked up to the top of the dunes to watch the sun set. Camel rides are the tourist hussle item but we preferred to walk having been in the car all day. The next day we were treated to a tour of the village where we watched a potter at work and got some photos of traditional homes within mud walls. We succumbed to some textile treasures in a local shop and haggled over a purchase of antique tapestries and hand-block printed cotton while sipping chai and eating rice, dal and lovely fresh yogurt.
As the sun set over the desert sky we were on the rooftop of our hotel drinking cold beer and eating more rice, dal and vegetables while watching Indian Airforce jets streak through the sky every two minutes in the daily show of force.
The wind was blowing hard the next day and the clouds began to move in. We could see the sand swirling in the desert from the rooftop. We toured the yellow fort and realized we could never tire of seeing the carved stone whether it was red or yellow sandstone or marble or whatever. The skilled workmanship, the artistry and the lovely designs are a never-ending pleasure for us. However, since the army marches on its stomach, we look forward to every meal. We lunched at a Tibetan restaurant on spinach, mushroom and cheese dumplings called 'momos' and a bruchetta-like foot-long bun with tomato, spinach and garlic topping. For supper we went to a local 'haveli' or desert hotel with a central courtyard and rooftop restaurant and splurged on roast lamb, tomatoes stuffed with potatoes, cheese and raisins, a vegetable 'korma' in a creamy coconut and cashew sauce, fresh yogurt and crisp nan.
The next day we are off on the seven hour trip across Rajasthan in a near sandstorm to the holy city of Pushcar - but that story is part of our 9th week....
There are a few more photos this week than last. They take forever to upload so that's why there are so few.
Love to all.
Darla & John

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