Heading South

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Where did December come from? No one warned me it was coming! How rude! It’s just odd to picture Europe and all its grey splendour right now as I’ve been roasting in the desert for the past two weeks. Having said that however, today it’s raining; very unseasonal and really not appreciated! It makes me chuckle actually because for so many years now I’ve been out on the streets of the West Country doing some random World AIDS Day event in the pouring rain (it ALWAYS rained) and now I’m in the desert, it’s 30 degrees and months away from rainy season, yet it still manages to rain on World AIDS Day - shocker. I do hope you’re all wearing your red ribbons and putting your pennies (and pounds if you have them) in the collection pots - lovely job!

So, Rajasthan. As always there have been ups and down in the past fortnight, but joyfully the downs really were over about 3 days and since then the world has recaptured its rosiness. So, start with gripes - Jaipur, locals making loads of assumptions about you, and Jaipur. I left the tranquillity and breathing-space that Pushkar offered for the oppressive metropolis of Jaipur. It’s actually a major tourist hotspot, but I’m still to discover quite why. It’s the first place in India that I’ve thoroughly and conclusively disliked. It has not a single redeeming feature that I can ascertain. I did really enjoy going up the fort above the city and looking down upon it - it’s rather like the view of LA from the Hollywood sign - but any city can look impressive from above. Jaipur also contains more jaded Indian tourist-baiters per head than any other place I’ve been in, even more than Agra! Their in-your-faceness was so intense that I felt a festering anger which only Jaisalmer a few days later would be able to dissipate - what kind of holiday destination is it that makes you angry?

One night I was determined to not eat alone and so I found a guy sat in a restaurant by himself and joined him for a pizza. We had a good chat and put the world to rights, but the one thing he said to me that stuck, was about his frustration upon seeing travellers walking around town with their heads down looking at the ground. I see his sentiment; that, as he put it, ‘travelling is about meeting people’s smiles’, but I was also struck by the fact that this is only one part of the experience - hopefully a large part, but there has to also be space for reflection, escape or even moody bad-temperedness if need be - why not, its as real and important as any other set of emotions, at home or on holiday. I’ve decided therefore to allow myself my ‘looking at the floor’ moments - not least because its often in order to avoid stepping in large heaps of cow poo - and indeed I’m appreciating them as moments which give the rest of my time here perspective. However, try telling that to the fiftieth child that day who has insisted on saying hello and asking how you are. I may well be very happy indeed at the moment, just not inclined to furnish my face with an inane grin for the sake of it. After the kids have run away laughing and shouting at me that I’m grumpy and ‘have a problem’ however, I’m less likely to be quite so cheery. It doesn’t take too many more of these moments to give me something to be grumpy about; it turns me into a right old curmudgeon. This declivity is something I face most days and I think is the root of some of my discomfort here. But thankfully I can usually shake it off pretty easily so please don’t imagine that my days are only about tracing the stones on the streets of India and bottling up insurmountable amounts of frustration. I do note how different this discomfort is from when I was in Kolkata, when, despite the numerous angsts I was experiencing, I was still writing about how surprisingly comfortable I found things.

So enough of that, as I say, the joy began in Jaisalmer. It’s a city in the far West of India which sits in the Great Thar Desert, an area that also washes across large swathes of Pakistan. The desert is generally scrub, but it does have a few patches of dunes to loll about in. Jaisalmer itself is a pretty sandcastle that proudly guards this immense expanse of nothingness. The old town within the city walls is perched high above the small settlement that surrounds it. Within the walls is the city fort and a menagerie of market stalls, cobbled streets and stunning buildings. I managed to find myself a treat of a hotel which had a gorgeous room which was practically carved out of the city walls and had this beautifully ornate balcony from which I could only imagine to address my people waiting with servility below - oh the delusions! I had a lovely old time pottering around the town, but I also used Jaisalmer as a base from which to do a camel trek. It’s actually quite a predictable tourist thing to do, but none the less fun for that. I hooked up with an American couple and off we went on a three day amble in the desert. I was given a camel called Kalu (Blacky) who I soon worked out was the temperamental adolescent of the group. Whilst the others plodded relentlessly and obsequiously onwards, Kalu decided that he wanted food breaks, rest stops and toileting opportunities at every other bush and if he saw his favourite berries, he was off! I reckon that he enjoyed playing catch up to the rest of the group and so would deliberately drop back. This left me with lots of pulling and tugging to do and a very sore bum from the couple of times Kalu used the excuse of being way behind to squeeze in a little run. I have to say I loved the runs, but they were bloody scarey as I had absolutely no control and was way too high off the ground for comfort. Nonetheless, eventually Kalu and I understood each other and had a grand old time. Thankfully we were only riding for 3 or 4 hours a day and so the flaying of our skin on the insides of our thighs was kept to a minimum! The tour we were on was apparently a ‘deluxe’ one that the American couple had specifically requested and paid a whopping Rs 2000 each per day for (£30). I had paid Rs 750 (£10) a day for the same trip and thought that was quite plenty enough. In fact it wasn’t particularly deluxe either, but I think the others were more concerned about that than I. It’s a bit rude that the organisers of the trip have absolutely no scruples whatsoever and will get every last penny that you’re willing to pay - rude, but not surprising I guess. I decided to tell the Americans a white lie about how much I paid ‘cos if I was them, I’d really not want to know the truth. The trek basically consisted of two short camel rides each day - morning and afternoon - that were sandwiched by campfire meals - all pretty chilled out and lovely. We slept out on the dunes under blankets, duvets and one of the biggest skies I’ve ever seen. The Universe definitely came out to join us in our desert hide-out as the starscape was awesome. Getting back from the trek and having a hot shower was nearly as wonderful as the trek itself and then getting myself a cake from the German Bakery on the way to get my bus to Jodhpur was pure smiliness indeed. German Bakeries are actually pretty common in touristy parts of India. They generally sell Danish pastries, English apple pies, French croissants and ubiquitous chocolate cake, indeed their offer is rarely Germanic in any way, but they do always have a veritable array of treats so who’s quibbling?

Arriving in Jodhpur was a joy. I found myself there late at night and went straight to a completely lovely hotel. I then sat in the roof-top restaurant eating my gnocchi with olives and capers, enjoying the traditional dancing that was put on for the rich tourists in the hotel next door, and checking out the amazing scenes all around me. Jodhpur was lit up with fireworks from wedding after wedding across the city, bands played, people processed down most of the city’s streets and the theme-park style wedding plazas that line the main trunk roads of most Rajastahani cities were full to bursting with tackorama and rooms full of its disciples. Jodhpur was heaving - apparently for Jains, the 15 days at the end of November and another 15 in June are the best times of year to get married due to some celestial alignment or other. The wedding furore was set to a backdrop of the palace in one direction and the imposing eminence of the fort in the other; quite something. In the hot light of day, Jodhpur still had a good energy. It’s really all about the fort; like that of Jaisalmer, it rises high above the city below in a very sheer and dramatic way, but this fort is not pretty, this fort is powerful, dramatic and formidable, you can’t help but be impressed. In its whole history it’s only ever been captured once and even then only after two different enemy armies joined forces to overcome it. Inside, it feels very different, the cold hard walls of the exterior are protecting some amazingly beautiful architecture and it’s a treat to walk around - not to mention the phenomenal views. I have to say, you do get to a point in Northern Indian where the thought of seeing yet another temple, fort or palace sends you cold, but this one was quite amazing.

From Jodhpur I headed into the mountains, or at least what counts for mountains in these parts, to a town called Mount Abu. It’s really a pilgrimage centre for Jains. I made the mistake of falling into the ‘must-see temples’ trap and remembered why it so easy to become cynical. They were less than impressive to put it mildly. Thankfully the town was cute and peaceful. I had to laugh at myself as I got caught in Abu Road, the town at the bottom of the mountain which acts as a railhead for Mount Abu. I arrived their after the last bus had left and so had to search out some accommodation. I spent hours with person after person selling me this hostel and that. All were disgusting, most were outrageously expensive. Sadly, the best of the lot was the first one and I’d already burnt that bridge so by the fourth option I had little choice but to go for it and so paid a fortune for a grubby little hovel. What was note-worthy was that I found it so funny, the whole process was late at night and took literally a couple of hours during which I seemed to remarkably maintain my humour. Then I laid on my bed at night chuckling to myself in a very ‘if they could see me now’ kind of way. My life does ‘alf look peculiar from some vantage points - as I’m sure many of you would be swift to agree.

Anyway, I finally got myself to Udaipur, my final Rajastani destination and a source of some very much appreciated calm. The city is picturesquely situated on two mountain-ringed lakes with two fairytale islands, one of which contains a palace that some people have said is there number one Indian highlight… pants! Who are they trying to kid, they turned the palace into a hotel, its only visible from the closest shore if your stay in a swanky hotel or pay a fortune for the privilege of walking in its grounds, and just to get to the island will set you back a whopping Rs 300! Somewhat destroys the fairytale for me. Having said that, the rest of the setting is really lovely and the city has proved a good spot for me to catch up with myself. Not least, because of the change in travel plans necessitated by the horrific bombings in Mumbai.

It was an odd time on Thursday hearing the first comments from other travels who already knew of the previous night’s attacks. These were by no means the first bombs to kill people since I’d been in India - indeed I’ve lost count - and as such I really didn’t pay them much heed; “another unpredictable separatist attack”. Bombings happen all over the world and are almost impossible to predict so it seems fruitless to live in fear of them. I did note to myself how lucky I was not to be in Mumbai at that point however as it had in fact been my plan to arrive at the ill-fated train station that very day - thank goodness for Rajasthan’s ability to suck you in. What also rushed through my head were all the people I’d met in the past couple of weeks who were heading to Mumbai and may or may not have been involved - made it a little more real. It was until the following day however when I met a couple who’d just left Mumbai and I’d read some more comprehensive reporting on what happened that I started to think more seriously about it. You lovely people had sent me various messages to ask of my well-being which were very appreciated. They seemed to imply that foreign tourists and specifically UK and US ones were being very deliberately targeted. All day everything else I heard seemed to agree with this view. That for me would seem to be good enough reason to be slightly concerned. As time has gone on though, it has become clear that this was completely overblown by an opportunistic Western media. As it happens, of the 22 ‘foreigners’ that were killed, it seems less than 5 were from Britain or the US, and unsurprisingly no one was talking about the 150 odd Indian nationals that were slaughtered, this was again a Pakistani militant group having a go at the Indian Government and using innocent people as its pawns. The focus was on tourist venues and not tourists, a subtle, but for me, very important distinction. It’s interesting seeing the Mumbai bombings from India’s perspective because for a secular country it too does a fine line in Muslim-bashing. 11% of Indians are Muslim, that’s 150 million people or so, yet still to read the papers and hear people talk, you’d never know it. Muslims here seems to be tagged as: ‘the other’, ‘the outsiders’, ‘our aggressive neighbours’ - not too dissimilar to the attitude in the West though not quiet as extreme. In the aftermath on Friday, the Indian Prime Minister was quick to thank the US for its comments and welcomed its support; it also rejected support from some less hard-line nations. It strikes me a sad sign of a growing Islamophobic global network that doesn’t bode well. Of course people in the streets you speak to are generally free from such extreme racism, but I guess the governments, militaries and corporations of the world still need an enemy as a propaganda tool and so Islam is being dressed in Soviet shoes. What’s so mad is that even if any of this mess was actually about religion, which it blatantly isn’t, Islam, Christianity and Judaism are basically the same thing, they have different words for things and different rituals to express them, but otherwise they have the same core convictions - God this world’s a mess… pun intended.

Clearly, I now need to be at least mindful of not being in massive tourist hotspots, but thankfully few of them were on my list for the coming weeks anyway. I’m still going Mumbai and see absolutely no reason not to, but I am waiting a couple of weeks to let the furore settle. This however has caused major problems as heading south from here without going through Mumbai is nigh on impossible without flying - not in my budget. The trains are all full due to the wedding influx, which just leaves buses. Therefore tomorrow I am quite literally zigzagging myself across the middle of the country over 36 hours and 3 bus rides to get to a place called Aurangabad which I really had no intention of visiting. There is however a good spot near by and it’s still not too far from Mumbai for when I finally get to go there. I’ve developed this internal barometer of discomfort on Indian public transport now such that I know that when the barometer is maxed out I must be about halfway there!

So it’s goodbye to Udaipur, its traditional dancers and its elephants randomly walking down the streets. I’m also leaving Rajasthan as I finally head south. I’ve now booked by return flight for the 29th Dec and I’ll be in Bhubaneshwar for Christmas so really I only have just over 3 weeks of travelling left before then. I’m sure I’ll manage one more blog at least, until then I hope you all enjoy getting festive and I send lots of love as always. Me. xx

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Photos

Hawa Mahal
The one amazing building in Jaipur

Jaisalmer Town
Not a great shot, but you get the point - all very sandcastles and not very candyfloss.

Streets of Jaisalmer
Stunning buildings like this are on many of the city's streets.

Jodhpur Fort
This was the view from my breakfast table!

Imposing huh!
Gives you an idea of just how dramatic the fort is.

View from above
Jodhpur is known as the Blue City as many of the houses are painted 'Brahmin Blue'.

Me.
More of Jodhpur's fort in the background.

Udaipur
Another classic sunset shot, but really, it is a stunner.

Comments

[latinocappuccinos]

Homeward bound...
Another gripping account and stunning pictures of your adventure. Thank you. Paulo x