When we were in the city of Bikaner we visited the impressive fort and two ornate palaces that all used to belong to the local dynasty of maharajas, who ruled the state of Bikaner for several hundred years up until 1947. The fort is now open to the public while the two palaces have been converted, appropriately, to luxury hotels; at all these locations there is a lot of material about the maharajas on display. One maharaja in particular appeals to the imagination. This was General His Highness Maharaja Sir Ganga Singh Bahadur, who ruled from 1887 until his death in 1943. Throughout his 56-year rule, his state was lucky enough to be a "protectorate" of the British Empire. This period is very well documented, especially by a quite extraordinary collection of photographs. First there are ... read more

Walking in the labyrinth of narrow streets in the quaint old town of Pushkar could in theory be a fascinating experience, given the nice old buildings, temples, shops, the friendly and colorfully dressed local people. However there are a few things in the streets that make walking there a bit frustrating and even hazardous. For a start there are the persistent touts, really annoying shopkeepers, con-artists, scammers, fake gurus, pilgrims, armless beggars, legless beggars, beggar women with scruffy kids and skeletal babies, beggars with every kind of exotic skin disease, little kids who want to shake your hand and practice their English, stray cows, cows with five legs, big dogs incredibly sleeping in the middle of the road, piles of excrement of all kinds, open urinals, potholes, dust, rubbish, countless plastic bags, cycle rickshaws, carts, camels, ... read more

I had expected to see lots of street processions in Pushkar during the festival, but it was a while before I saw the first one. I was alone in the hotel room because Tracey had gone off early in the morning to photograph camels, old men in big turbans, scowling beggars, and suchlike. My laziness was rewarded by the appearance of this procession right outside the hotel, which overlooks the main bazaar street. First, before anything was visible, came the noise. A frightful ear-splitting but vaguely musical din, even louder than the normal bazaar din, which steadily and unbelievably increased in intensity until finally the procession came into view. The vanguard of the procession was a sort of cart, bearing a sign with the legend "Sunder Brass Band", and weighed down by a collection of loudspeakers ... read more