Bikaner

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We left Jaisalmer, five of us (including the driver Vicky) crammed into our small indian-made car. Here's one of the advantages of having a car/driver with flexible travel-mates: we can stop for various things of interest. I had neard about the small village of Khidgen (between Jaisalmer and Bikaner) in which there is a spot where the Demoiselle Cranes winter, thanks to food provided by villagers. We (I mean Vicky) had to ask about about 12 people before finally finding a dirt road leading to a large excavated depression, containing something like 300 to 400 cranes, not to mention some little eyed (?) plovers, redshank, shovelers and others. Strange site, in the middle of nowhere.

Bikaner, our next stop, is a dusty desert town, with chaotic traffic as bad as anywhere else. At one point an on-coming bus tried (successfully) to drive us off the road as he was passing a truck. Perfectly normal. It's kill or be killed on these roads. I still can't get over it after driving around Rajastan for 10 days.

As usual, Vicky found us an excellent hotel within our budget of $C15 per night for a twin. This is the way to travel. That evening we walked about 2 km into town. Jamie and I got haircuts in a tiny barbershop; ($4 for both of us, and that is the foreigner rate). It attracted quite a crowd. One fellow stood aside for us, which I didn't realize at first. Later I tried to apologize, but he wouldn't have it. "You are our guests" he said. Not atypical.

We found a family restaurant with good cheap food and good service - lots of mums, dads and kids, despite the late hour. Uncharacteristically, a young woman at the neighbouring table struck up a conversation. The fact that a woman initiated it was surprising. Women in India seem to be in the background, we have hardly talked to women at all. At least 70% of the people on the street are men, although naturally one notices women more because mostly they are dressed in extremely colorful saris, kurtis, pyjamas. This is clearly a conservative society, and women are not expected to talk to strangers (and you can't get much stranger than my son Jamie).

The next day we toured the obligatory fort (again a strategic outpost in the caravanserai days), which was quite impressive inside. The maharaja story was much like Jaisalmer and Jodhpur - but their history of wealth, power opulence is neverheless staggering.

Later we visited the rat temple, Karna Mati (sp?), about 25 km outside of the town. It was teeming with rats, but is obviously taken quite seriously by the large number of hindu pilgrims or visitors. The rats are fed with large bowls of milk or yoghurt.

Final stop, perhaps the most interesting; The Camel Research Centre, run by the Federal Dept of Agriculture (more bureaucracy). There are three breeds, each with different strengths, one for traction (and they are widely used on the roads for hauling everything), one for milk (a major source of nutrition for villagers) the third blends strength and milk production. The farm kept about 150 camels. They provide a breeding program, so that villagers can bring their female camels (cammellas?) in for artificial and conventional insemination, to improve blood-lines. the service is free. Of course the meat of the camel is not used, but it does provide other products besides, including wool (1 kg per year), leather, and - quite prolifically - dung, which is used in desert villages for fuel to cook. We left having a greater appreciation for the importance of camels in rural areas.

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