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Published: September 11th 2006
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Turbans
Jord and I sporting our turbans. Note the family resemblance in the similar shades of cloth. After a horribly emotional goodbye from the crooked Jaipur Rickshaw guild that left both parties quite angry, frustrated and bitter (their stalking and scheming grew unbearably tiresome) Jordan and I finally escaped their scheming ways (along with the rest of Jaipur) and boarded a train heading west across Rajasthan to the city of Jaisalmer.
It’s quite difficult to get the names of all these places in India straight and the process of buying train tickets isn’t all that simple, but thanks to the creative shopkeeper next to our hotel in Jaipur (who had an excellent assortment of everything any traveler might need) we managed to score train tickets on short notice. Our train however, had different ideas and decided to show up hours late on a different platform. Even Jord with his seemingly advanced train expertise was at a complete loss. We boarded the wrong train heading someplace we never heard of before a harsh argument about seat numbers brought to our attention that we were, in fact, stupid tourists (in case there was ever any doubt) on the wrong train to the wrong place. The change of platform and departure time was announced quite clearly over the ancient loudspeakers
Desert Sunset
A scene from our first night in the dunes... before the dung beetles arrived... in Hindi, which we were not surprisingly unaware of.
After finally getting on the right train sometime around 2 or 3 am (it's all a haze) we quickly fell asleep. I woke up sometime the next day with a thick coat of dust on both the inside and outside of my body, eyes dry, lungs burning to see out my open window the horrifying wasteland of the Thar desert somewhere about 50km from the Pakistani border. After exiting the train station and facing the subsequent and full-on assault of various hotel touts and their homemade signs, we made our way to a local hotel. We had met a beloved Englishman named Thomas on the train. Thomas fancied a nibble and thus we agreed to meet later for dinner. We were graced not only with his lovely English company for a meal, but also an additional 3 days when we hired some camels and a guide to head out into the middle of the desert for no good reason at all.
Looking back, I'm not sure why I agreed to the Camel trip seeing how it was only two weeks ago I partook in a similar experience in Egypt.
Riders On The Storm
The desert had a surprising amount of greenery from the reccent monsoon. However I suppose, like my first horse experience of the trip (which was also sub par) a multi-day adventure would toughen the loins and delve deeper into whatever camel trips delve into. Our camel minder Daniel who tended the beasts, was a cheerful fellow weighing in somewhere around 90lbs and although claimed to be 20 or so, I had my doubts. Later when his urgent squeaks and chirps commanded the camels here and there I began to suspect we were being led into this desert with nothing more than a borderline adolescent. He sported a vague outline of a moustache, but then many Indian women have those making it hard to draw any certain conclusions on anything really. Regardless, he certainly cooked a mean meal. I say "meal" (singular) because it was the same thing for lunch and dinner three days straight, and although pleasant at first it grew quickly tiring. I'm not one to complain, but given the outlandish promises and descriptions of what we were to eat only hours before by the organizer of our trip I couldn't help but chuckle. After watching the meals be prepared some 5 or 6 times, I'm confident I could master the
Daniels Camel
I don't care what anyone says, no matter how many times I saw this I never stopped laughing. dish even though sadly I doubt anyone would really want to eat it.
The camels were their typical selves, much better behaved then most legends and myths would have it, but then again I can safely say I had the best one of the group. JuJu my tender and gentle camel companion for three days was the youngest camel, energetic and seemingly eager to please. Tom and Jord had feverish and outrageously temperamental beasts often screaming (it’s tough to truly describe the sounds they make but I did capture some on video) and frothing from the mouth at nothing in particular. Daniel's camel was accurately nicknamed "shitballs" for its enormous testicles and inability to avoid striking (with the help of gravity) and coating them, and his legs with the green excrement.
The desert was fun and the rural areas a change from the slums of bigger cities. The bugs were a tad out of control at night, I completely gave up on the dung beetles, and waking up to find their persistence in transporting all manner of feces was both impressive and sickening. I had a very, very strange moment where I watched in total curiosity after I
Water
I still can't believe he served us tea brewed from this very puddle of "water". took a dump on the sand myself where I saw them struggle with my strange liquid-like “leftovers.” At night however, I simply pretended it wasn't shit rolling across my body, blanket and general sleeping area, but something more tolerable, like gumdrops, or delicious chocolate eggs. Somehow I managed to put it all out of my mind enough to avoid building a fort with countless defenses like Jord did -ignorance is bliss I suppose. But what bothered me the most (aside from the fleas and ticks who immigrated from the camels onto my body) were the midnight sandstorms. Waking up and breathing in sand isn't overly enjoyable. The heat creates an already disturbing film of perspiration over ones body and adding sand as a second layer leaves much to be desired. We all gave up any attempt at being "sand free" (or remotely clean for that matter) after the first night. Needless to say, by the end of our expedition anywhere and everywhere on my body found sand.
So while the trip wasn't all that great for catching up on sleep, or sorting out our various stomach ailments (they used urine filled stagnant desert "ponds" for all our cooking), or staying clean -I suppose I can say we built a little character and did a little bonding? It turns out Tom quit his job at another faceless financial company much like Jord and I (big competitors actually) so no matter how bad things got we took solace in knowing our ex-co-workers were stuck in the office while we were painfully yet proudly facing the unknown.
The fort back in Jaisalmer is quite something. I have to admit the forts in India are superior in many ways to similar sites elsewhere in the world because locals still inhabit them. Although this is bad for so many reasons (essentially they're ruining them all) it adds a much more realistic view of what purpose they serve (minus the military role of course). Much of the time we spent in the Mayan or Incan equivalents was imaging what they looked like full of people bustling about in their daily lives. Here that's no problem, even if their "daily lives" consist of simply following, hassling, peddling, lying and cheating any tourists they can. But who would expect anything less? Finally, I just want to end this entry proclaiming my undying hatred for TD Canada and American Express, but also thank my savior Patrick Bateman and his delightful antics that cheered me up to no end in the marvelous book entitled: "American Psycho."
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nolan
non-member comment
Camel love is driving you crazy...
Man you and Jord are the only guys that would stumble on a set of camel nuts like that... Happy trails... Be safe in India. And please let thoes be the last pics of camel nuts ever.... Cheers Nolan