Bundi - a lazy day


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Asia » India » Rajasthan » Bundi
November 20th 2006
Published: December 1st 2006
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My last day in Bundi, I so wished that I was staying longer, I really felt like I was only just getting to know the town and people, but I must move on. Already there are too many things to experience in India and not enough time, one gets rather templed, forted, palaced out and some of my best experiences have been just people watching, wandering about and digesting all.

Still I went back to last nights restaurant for breakfast - what a feast. A plate of fruit expertly carved and delicated placed, with bananas on the outside rim of the plate, then a ring of apple, guava, papaya, watermelon, banana and finally a clump of bright red pomagranite seeds, followed by a huge honey and lemon pancake. I spent the morning just munching my way through relishing time to just sit and enjoy.

Finally I had to move and wandering around the lake I came a little unstuck as the path fizzled out and I found myself in amongst the rubbish and poo grave yard but I was guided through by rather startled locals who pointed me in the direction of the market. All was happy until I was greated with "hello sexy' and lewd gesture, a shock to the system as I had grown unaccustomed to the calls over the last few days and decided to put him right.... Not that I'm not sexy! just that it was inappropriate. I don't know who was more shocked him or me but hopefully something registered.

Back to the market and the best ever bit of on the job craftswork I've ever seen. Seated on the ground are women selling an amazing array of coloured sparkling bangles, all carefully displayed on specially made bangle frames. There are various sizes but if yours don't fit, she chops out a section, heats the bangle over a coal fire so it's maleable, closed the gaps but leaves enough space to hold the ends over a hot cold by her feet, she then places it on your arm and with asphestos fingers joins the two ends, each time getting the fit perfectly right. I couldn't resist and perched down for my turn with assistance from every corner on what colour to choose.

Corp must have had a better offer (or my face was too honest!) as the visit to the museum never materialized and I spent the afternoon in an African inspired Internet cafe; Pavarotti's daughter had spent a few years in Kenya and opted for an Ayervedic massage in preparation for my travels. Stripped to my knickers every inch was pummelled and oiled by an old women with buck teeth - quite an experience but great all the same.

For some reason I thought it would be easy to get a train to Jalgaon, my next stop off for Aganta Caves, little did I realise how far it was. First off a night bus to Indore. I sat patiently in the truckers roadside cafe, surrounded by men watching snatches of Indian big brother and some bollywood gangster slash musical movie, wandering what on earth I had let myself in for. The coach arrived and I was ushered on with all my luggage and made my way down the aisle, straddling some poor sleeping Indians. Rousing the sleeping man in my bunk, I clambered up with all my luggage. It's a normal coach but with a slightly higher ceiling and above the seats along the side are bunks, luckily I'd been prewarned and didn't have to share with other ladies and kids.

Closing my curtain I started giggling rather hysterically as we bumped along the roads in the dead of night. At times my whole body lifted up from the bed, but there is something about watching the landscape pass by in the moonlight, looking up at the stars above, all snug and on a bus!


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