Day 2 Jaipur- one for Laura Slade-Jones

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Shakira woke me at about 0715-she had been up and about for hours. I'd set my alarm for 0645, but had slept through it-that and all the horns, I must of been tired. As I'd not unpacked much, there was little to do apart from wash and change and head downstairs for breakfast. I didn't really fancy curry or anything else lined up on the buffet table. I don't know if I'd been reading too much into avoiding Delhi belly, but I'd read to stay away from food that had been left out or reheated, and apply the rule only eat if it can be boiled cooked or peeled. With that in mind I picked out a couple of bananas and put them in my bag for later on.



Leaving the hotel, I can only liken it to what it must be like when 'celebrities' leave a building and get swamped by paparazzi, except in this case I was a tourist not a celebrity and the paparazzi were women holding children with arms outstretched, begging for money.

I did find this really hard to just make my way past them and up onto the bus, but it's what we were told to do and I guess if you started, just where would you stop? I had this discussion with my friend Ali a couple of days before coming here, asking how can one country be so poles apart in terms of having so much poverty, yet have a space programme?! I think she summed it up nicely when she said Its no wonder Britain stopped foreign aid to India-they don't do enough to help their own.



Getting out of Delhi was akin to getting in-crazy traffic and a thick smog hovering over us. I thought of my Grandma who had been born right here in the state of Utter Pradesh, a mere 40 miles away and back in the 1930s. I was fascinated this, especially after doing my family tree. It was possibly the most cultural thing to have happened in my family, since all of my Dads side can be traced back over 300 years and non of them moved more than 10 miles. I found it exotic, and interesting and somehow historical that my family had lived in India in the last few years of British rule and even had servants. I loved her stories of pink snow and picnics in the Himalayas, and only recently she dug out a photo of my great grandma posing in Jodhpurs (the trousers not the place) I was excited to tell her I was going to India, to see where she spent the first 4 years of her life. She told me my nanna had hated it, and the Indians spat at her when she went shopping. 'We moved back cause my mother thought it was a shit hole, and had had enough' I laughed and said it must of been bad to move back to Hull in the 1940s when Hull was getting so badly bombed during WW2. That was as far as our cultural chat went. Indeed the Indians do spit a lot, possibly from chewing tobacco, or maybe just habit. And grandma you were right, I think I'd want to move back to Hull too.



Raghu told us our first stop would be Macdonalds. Normally I'm not keen on fast food places abroad, especially as you can't go anywhere these days without macdonalds, but here was a decent toilet stop so I wasn't going to argue with that.

I decided to sit back and enjoy my banana for now, but when I opened my bag, I got a strong smell of what can only be described like cat poo. What on earth was that?? Had a cat shat in my bag?! I pulled out the bananas and the smell got stronger so I sniffed the bananas-they had a kind of brown dried coating on the skin and was the source of the smell. I really hoped it wasn't what I thought it was but didn't fancy eating cat poo bananas (or any poo bananas) so found a carrier bag in put them in there ready for the bin. I was disturbed.



At macdonald I washed my hands throughly and forgave myself for ordering an egg muffin meal. I asked for tea but was told there wasn't any so he charged me extra for the coffee. I didn't mind as it only worked out to be about 40p and after the banana trauma was a small price to pay.



Of what I've seen so far of India, everything tends to happen at the side of the road. People stand, sit, walk, sell, sleep, shelter, sh.... It's crammed and really busy and full of litter. To add to my list of things seen beside the road- cows, pigs and camels, and yet more dogs-oh and a man walking a goat on a lead like we would a dog. People on crammed busses beside ours frantically waved, and boys and men sat on the roof of a bus shouting down and waving at us girls (I hope they don't go through a tunnel)



At the Rajasthani border, our bus guy hopped off to go pay the toll. There seems to be taxes and tolls for everything over here. We watched with bated breath as he wove his way on foot through 7 lanes of traffic and gave him a round of applause when he made it back alive. He looked at us as though we were the crazy ones. Imagine pedestrians walking across the M25?!



After about 3 hours the sun was out and grass and hills were more commonplace than buildings. We stopped for lunch at a nice place and sat outside in a shaded area. I ordered vegetable samosas which were lovely-I don't think I could have curry twice in one day. I feel a bit stupid now but I'd not really given much thought to the fact that back home a curry is a bit of a treat food as. A takeaway maybe about once a month, or probably less than that. Now to be eating it everyday filled me with the feeling I'd be returning to the UK the size of a house-time will tell, and God I hope not!



Back on the bus, every time we stopped in traffic a hand would pop up at the window out of nowhere holding a bottle of water, and men on bikes would look up and stare. A school bus pulled alongside and a sea of dirty little smiling faces peered out waving with toothy grins.

3 sometimes 4 people packed on 1 motorbike, and I thought this is maybe something we could try on Rhyds Harley when I get home? He's just been looking at seats to accommodate Laura on the back-how's about fitting Daryl and I on there as well? That way you can give us a lift back after we've eaten you out of house and home! Perfect.



I was looking forward to visiting Jaipur, one because it's the name of a local curry house in Llantwit Major, and two because it is painted pink. Apparently this was done for the visit of the then prince of Wales in the late 1800s, as pink is the colour of welcome and hospitality, and in certain parts it is compulsory to paint your house pink! Did the Indians think us Brits had a particularly camp Royal Family? Who knows, but I couldn't help thinking of our Isabelle and sister in Lau (see what I did there) and their love of pink so to be visiting a place known as the pink city, made me think of you both. (Lau maybe you should try this in Oxford for when the other Welsh Royal family come visit? See if it catches on?!)



Driving through the city to the hotel and it didn't seem any less bustling than Delhi. Our guide Raghu is from Jaipur and he said it was more laid back (to me this was like saying Oxford Circus is more laid back than Piccadilly Circus-I was struggling to see the difference)



We arrived at our hotel which was set back from the busy parts and although you could still hear the horns honking it wasn't as bad. The hotel is called Bissau Palace and was previously a residence for the royal family, but was turned into a hotel. To western standards it was quite shabby looking, to eastern standards it was a palace. The walls were painted so delicately, and it was obvious that despite the age of the place, people who worked here had pride in their dwellings and worked hard to keep it neat.



I found I was sharing a room with Pearl, who was the woman who had emailed me prior to coming here. She looked just like my auntie Pam, and I was looking forward to getting to know her better, as she seems like a character already. To describe her, the 2 people that came to mind when we met, were the 'unsinkable' Molly Brown off of Titanic, and Megan in The film bridesmaids (Google if you haven't a clue who I'm on about) Pearl was shorter than me, I'd say not much over 4ft but possibly the same width wise and larger than life. A retiree from Canada with lots of tails to tell of travelling. Immediately in the room we laughed at her trying to get onto the bed as it was quite high, I promised to give her a leg up late if she was struggling. The room was lovely though, with ornate paintings and mirrors everywhere. Next was a walk through the markets, where I saw, to add to my list of things at the roadside: necklaces made of cow dung, a sheep, and a big fat dead rat. There were cows everywhere and I was wretching at the smell, it really did make me gag. (mum I know you'll be picturing this now laughing your head off!) there were so many bags of dried chillies spices and coloured dyes, and people begging everywhere.

After a while of orientation (not that I ever think I'd find my way back) we got a cycle rickshaw to the movie theatre to see a Bollywood film. The poor lad on the bike was a slip of a thing, and with no gears and Pearl and I on the back I really felt sorry for him but he seemed to pedal with ease. He didn't have a horn so just shouted 'beep beep' and weaved in and out of the traffic, and I shook his hand when we got off and tipped him a bit more as Pearl was a bit of a big unit, and I though it was the least he deserved.....



We got to the movie theatre, which at one time was the largest in Asia seating 1100 people. Apparently when big Bollywood films are released the place still sells out and people get up dancing on the stage at the front. Not tonight though, as the Bollywood film we saw was a thriller called Badlapur and with non of the happy dancing and crazing singing I expected. It was quite dark about a hostage situation gone wrong and there was lots of fighting in it. The male lead was a dashing Indian Bollywood star with a six pack to rival Daryls (don't worry DSJ-you were def more ripped) and the audience were getting involved cheering and clapping, although they also did this at a scene that was a bit raunchy and borderline on sexual assault which I found disturbing, but sadly maybe also a common view across India given the recent stuff that has been in the news regarding treatment of women.

Anyway it was 2.5 hours long and I dozed off for some of it, besides it was all in Hindi with no subtitles, so figured I google the plot at some point to find out what was happening.



We got a tuk tuk back to the hotel, which was possibly one of the most awful journeys in my life. I think I now appreciate how Daryl feels when I drive over potholes, as the roads here were terrible and crazy, and before we knew it-thwack! We crashed into another tuk tuk. It was nothing major and just a scrape where the driver had pulled out but they were both shouting at each other and refusing to budge. Eventually our driver set off turning back over his left shoulder to continue gobbling off at the other guy. A motorbike came from the right and swerved us which was close as the driver was still not looking. All I could think of was 'I bet my holiday insurance doesn't cover tuk tuk travel' I was so glad to get back to the hotel. We shared a veggie curry and rice which was nice, and also shared a bottle of beer which set me back £3 for the lot. I was desperately tired by now so headed off to bed just before 11pm thinking to myself' Why when I value my own space so much have I come to one of the most overpopulated places on earth? Another thing I hadn't really given much thought to, but at this point my brain was switching off and the distant sound of horns was fading. I'd survived another day in India-just.

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Photos

Chillies from Jodphur
Famously added to Rajastani dishes