A bowl of peas in Jodhpur

Leaving Jaisalmer for Jodhpur, the Golden City for the Blue City, I got to try out yet another type of bus in India. This one was built more like a Greyhound bus you would see in the West, with one twist. Where buses typically have a lot of headroom, and a rack for bags, in this bus this space has been replaced with a number of bunk beds. For a few rupees more than a seat, you can lie down above everyone else's head and take a nap. I would be in there like a slinky, but an average sized woman could lie flat. The bus ride itself was quite good, until it really started getting full and suddenly I had a rather large Indian woman sitting on my arm rest and all the space around my feet filled with her bags. for seven hours, what could be better.

Once we reached the outskirts of Jaisalmer, the desert quickly reasserted its supremacy. Being less than 100km from the Pakistan border, there is a huge military presence here, with bases after base, but even these soon gave way to flat, dusty nothingness. There were occasional homes, made of dried mud and sticks, which housed the few families of shepard's and goatherds, which live, somehow of the dry land. Every ten or so kilometers there would be a two bit town, typically just a few stores together alongside the highway, tending to the needs of the nearby inhabitants. For the whole drive, this was the view out the window and so mp3 players got a good workout while most of us napped.

Arriving in Jodhpur right at sunset, we took a quick walk around the main bazaar and clock tower, before yet another nice rooftop dinner. Unfortunately our hotel was on the eastern side of the fort that dominates the town and so there were no spectacular photos of the fort to be had on this night. Since we had slept the night before in the desert and been awake since well before sunrise, I called it an early night. That was until about 3am, when I turned over in my sleep and heard a massive crack as my bed fell apart under me. The two cross beams had broken in the middle and now I was only held up by a piece of ply board. As you can imagine, I didn't sleep well after that, trying not to move, but at least I didn't end up on the floor.

There is really only one tourist attraction in Jodhpur (maybe two at a stretch), but it is a doozy, the Mehrangarh Fort. The fort was built in 1459 on the top of what is effectively a mesa, and the town quickly sprung up at it's feet. What differentiates this fort from Jaisalmer is that no one but the Maharaja and assorted hangers on ever lived inside, and so it is much better maintained, and easier to get around. It was also so well built that even in the time of gunpowder it was never taken by force.

Sanjay had told us about this amazing omelet place right around the corner from our hotel and so Rebecca and I headed out there at 8.30 to get one before heading to the fort, only to discover that he wasn't open. What kind of omelet guy isn't open for breakfast? Thus hungry, I walked from our hotel up to the fort through the old town and finally got to see why Jodhpur is known as the Blue City. On our drive in, there was no sign of blue anywhere, but as we walked, we began to pass a number of houses painted sky blue. Originally only the priests were allowed to have blue houses, but now it is a very popular color as it is cool and repels insects. Up in the fort, we got free audio guides, which are quite good and that is saying something as I normally really don't like them. There was an introduction by the current Maharaja and several tales from history were narrated by his family. It is well worth listening to if you are here.

As we walked through the first gate (all gates in India are really tall to admit elephants), it became obvious why this place was never conquered. The only road up switches back and forth a number of times up the steep hill and there is a gate right after every turn. The gate placement means that an elephant or battering ram can never get enough speed to break the gates, all the while being fired on from turrets above. Right after the last gate, and before arriving at the palace, there is one of the more disturbing sights I have seen in India, small palm prints in terra cotta on the walls. In Jodhpur, tradition held, that when the Maharaja died, his wives would get dressed in their wedding dresses, say a prayer, walk out the gate (leaving a palm print in the wall), sit on his funeral pyre and silently be consumed by the fire. There had to be more then thirty small palm prints wear the gates, one for each woman who followed this insane ritual.

The palace itself is now a giant museum and full of very interesting displays. And thousands of Indian tourists and while I am here I am going to say a few things about them. The first is that I think that it is great that Indians (especially the hordes of kids) are touring around their own country to experience the great variety of what it has to offer. The funny thing is, though, that they seem to spend more time taking photos in front of displays that actually looking at them. At one point a family of probably twenty people stopped right in front of a case full of swords hung on the wall that I was trying to look at. They pushed everyone else aside, took about ten photos with various people in them, the sword case in the background, and moved on. I swear to god that not a single one of them actually looked the swords the entire time. Indian groups are also very loud. They are constantly shouting across marble rooms (which act like echo chambers) and often I couldn't hear the audio guide. The final thing, is that like in China, Indians haven't seen a whole lot of white people and they always seem to want photos of us. Guys, girls, families will just walk right up and ask to take a photo. If you sit down for two minutes, you are sure to be surrounded by people wanting photos and it can take quite a while to get moving again. It is funny that, even when walking in a group, often they will only want one or two of us in the photo. Sometimes they want one of the blond girls (oddly enough Indian girls usually want this) while my red beard and Rene's bald white head fascinate the guys. We were sitting at one point and a guy came up to Mark, didn't say and word, gave Mark his two year old daughter to hold and then moved back for a photo. We just couldn't stop laughing. I really don't mind being asked, given how many photos I have gotten of locals over the years, but I really wonder what stories are being told about us once they get home.

Once I had allowed a couple of massive groups of Indians to get far enough in front of me, things really thinned out and I really enjoyed walking around the fort, and it really is the best that I have seen, for the combination of architecture, displays and views. Agra fort is more architecturally beautiful, but is fairly sterile, as there is no furniture or art remaining, whereas this has some wonderful collections. There is a wicked looking sword given to the great Moghul emperor Akhbar, alongside some nasty axes, daggers swords and rifles. There is a room full of elephant chairs, each far more comfortable looking than the one Bob, the two girls and I were crammed into. There are ornate cribs, rooms covered in gold an mirrors, reception halls, incredibly intricate miniature paintings and magnificent views of the blue city below. There are also two living "exhibits". The first is a guys smoking a hookah pipe filled with opium (supposedly). I would have to imagine that a fair number of people would be pretty happy to smoke opium for a living. The second is a guy playing traditional music on a pipe. I managed to get a couple of great photos of these two guys. As a side note, unlike Amritsar where most of the guys wear turbans and beards, here it is completely different and they wear turbans and mustaches. And what outstanding 'staches they are, waxed to a fine point and twisted in every direction possible.

The final exhibit in the fort that I visited was out in the open air, a magnificent collection of old cannons. Aligned along the battlements and looming ominously over the town (if it is technically possible to be ominous with your firing holes welded up) are cannons from every era and nationality. Some are inscribed with European coats of arms while others are clearly more Asiatic in design, with dragon mouths. The panoramic views from up here are sublime, while looking straight down gave me a great appreciation of how difficult it would have been to build such high walls.

Leaving the fort and walking a kilometer in the now scorching hot sun, seven of us arrived at the Jaswant Thada, a white marble memorial to the last 120 years of Maharajas. The place itself is not really that interesting, there are no spectacular carvings and the paintings of Maharajas, awesome sideburns not withstanding, are all starting to look alike. The major point of interest here for us was they they were shooting a Bollywood movie here. There was a set erected at the end of the lake, with a scary looking tunnel entrance and the most traditional of Indian warnings, the skull and crossbones. Unfortunately, everyone in the shoot was eating lunch behind a big sheet, so we didn't get to see too much.

Given how hot it had become, we decided to pile into an auto rickshaw back into town. For anyone who is interested, it is possible to get seven white people and a driver into one rickshaw, though I highly recommend that if you try it to call shotgun as there is not a whole lot of room left in the back with six bodies in there. After a delicious lunch of the best samosas I have ever had and a local style of lassi (very thick and way too sweet but still good) it was time for siesta.

In Jaisalmer and the previous night in Jodhpur I had not been able to get a decent photo of a fort at sunset and so I set out to solve this problem about four o'clock, two hours before sunset. I hadn't really had a chance to just roam around the town and get a feel for the place so I decided to kill two birds with one stone and wander the back streets, ever heading east until I found a good place to set and watch the sun go down. Away from the tourist areas, things quickly became quite (at least relatively quite for India) and it was a real pleasure to just walk. At one point I saw a sign on the side of the road pointing to a hotel and after heading up some winding alleys and being pointed in the right direction by a group of kids playing street cricket, I found it. Climbing the stairs, I found it had a rooftop restaurant and the perfect view of the fort. What a perfect spot to pass the time (the Cosy Guesthouse if you are going to be here. Do yourself a favor and watch at least one sunset from the covered deck). I got a hot cuppa, lay back, read the paper and watched the walls of the fort slowly turn a deeper shade of red. Once again, a picture below says a thousand words.

Once back at the hotel we headed out for a nice dinner, this time a bit out of town and attached to a nightclub (the girls would later take a Bollywood dancing lesson while I taught Rene the rules of cricket while watching a game on TV). I have managed to keep to my vegetarian eating (13 days and counting) but was getting kind of sick of everything cooked in oil or fried or curried. So I went way off the menu and (along with stuffed tomatoes and potatoes) asked for a simple bowl of boiled peas. What a can of worms that opened. The waiter simple looked confused and so I got Sanjay to help out and he even looked confused. Did I want them pureed? Nope, just plain boiled green peas. Do you want them with curry? Nope, just plain boiled green peas. Do you want them fried? Just a little bit? Nope, just plain boiled green peas. Do you want any salt? Pepper? Butter? Nope, just boiled green peas. Well, I finally got the message across, so off to check with the chef if he had them (I knew he would as there are peas in about half the curries on the menu). By this time everyone down my end of the table is laughing but when then came out I had the last laugh. The peas were magnificent, firm, fresh and not overcooked. It was exactly what I was looking for and will, without a doubt get me through an early morning wake up and long drive to Udiapur tomorrow.

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Part of trip: The Big One

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