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Jaisalmer is on the far west of India close to Pakistan. It rises out of the surounding Thar Desert and its mighty sandstone fort, built in 1156, towers over the town like a fairytale sandcastle. This is the land of turbans where the men have large, curly moustaches and look like characters from Aladdin and the women, dressed in bright sarees have faces decorated with golden piercings. Jaisalmer is an ancient and magical town with wonderfully grand old architecture, bustling bazaars selling mysterious items and at its centre is the magnificent fort which harbours a palace and various temples and havelis all hidden around the warren of narrow streets carved from the near edible sandstone. It is a 'golden city of dreams', the centre of a once powerful and wealthy desert kingdom and is now the perfect place to live out your arabian nights fantasies.
Our bus ride out here would have been ok if it wasn't for an individual on the bus who seemed to be preparing for the worlds smelliest person competition. His stink was the worst thing i've ever smelt on a human and he must have spent many months rolling around in excrement and dead animals to have aquired such a pungeant and unsociable musk. It litterally stopped me sleeping. So we were pretty tired and confused when we steped of the bus and we were quiclky taken away in a van to a hostel where we had a snooze. After our little nap we went out for an explore and we realised that our hostel was right in the heart of the fort. Our abductees had promised us it wasn't as staying in fort is now considered a big no no due to the fact that it is sinking and has been put on a list of endagered monuments.
We went for a brief walk around part of the fort and took a look at the multistory palace which had beautiful carvings all around it and men selling rugs from its shade. We went up to a viewpoint on the perimeter walls of the fort from where we could see the desert wasteland just beyond the town. A group of four boys decided that we should have a photoshoot so we spent about half an hour photographing each other which got quite tiresome. We had pictures taken with every possible combination of people from every angle. After this excitement we decided to go and hide away from the heat somewhere for the rest of the afternoon. Dryness isn't something we experience much back home but this place made me thankful. The air was bone dry, not a drop of moisture. It was impossible to hydrate ourselves, after every breath our mouths and throats craved liquid. The temperature was around 45 degrees but we barely sweated and a the dry winds that swept across the desert blew in our faces like a hairdryer.
That evening we went for a drink at a very smart restaurant on the fort walls. The sky which was bleached by the harsh desert sun during the day turned to a dark blue and the outline of the fort next to us faded into it. Very romantic.
We decided to go and sort our our camel safari the following morning. This basically involves riding on a camel through the desert for a couple of days and it was one of the main reasons we had come here. We chose not to go with our guesthouse because they were liers so we went to find a tour agency which was recommended in our guide run by a man called Mr Desert. With a name like that he must know a thing or two about the desert we thought. Mr Desert was a tall, powerful looking man with a big black beard, a wonderful curly moustache and piercing blue eyes. He was dressed in a starched white punjabi and equally clean trousers. Despite his size he spoke very softly and was very honest. He didn't presure us at all and we liked him and the way he looked so we signed up for his camel safari starting the following day. We noticed that his office was covered in adverts and magazine covers with what looked like his face on. We inquired and it turned out it was indeed Mr D and he promised to tell us his story the next day before we set out on our safari.
We spent the rest of the day braving the heat and exploring the narrow backs streets in the fort. It was an amazing place to wander around. The sandstone buildings glowed in the sun and many of the ancient structures had magnificent carvings. The streets were lined with tiny shops which were like alladdins caves and they spilled out into the cobbled streets. They were full of jewels, boxes, camel leather bags and other unusual items. During our wanderings we came across a stunning Jain temple again built from sandstone with intricate carvings all over it.
That evening we went to one the more upmarket restaurants in town which was on the roof of a haveli. We were entertained by a group of boys playing and singing traditional Rajasthani folk music which involved a drum, some maraccas, a harmonium and a voice. It was excellent and the eeirie, wailing vocals and the exotic scales they were playing created a perfect desert soundtrack.
We were up early the next day to start our camel safari. We first went to Mr Deserts office to have a chai and a chat with him before setting of and he told us his story. He got the name Mr Desert because he was the first ever winner of the 'Mr Desert Competition' which is now held every year during the Desert Festival in February. He went on to win it four years in a row making him the most decorated Mr Desert in the history of the competition and so is now affectionately known throughout the state as Mr Desert. He is something of a local treasure. He went on to become the face of Jaislamer Cigarettes and appeared on all there advertising posters. He also appeared in a coke advert, a mastercard advert and has been on the cover of many magazines. He was a great story teller and we loved listening to his life story.
We were the only people on the safari due to it being low season and the first part of our trip was a visit to an abandoned village in the desert. We waved goodbye to Mr D and met our driver, Lilu, who drove us to the village. He spent most of the drive looking over his shoulder talking to us which was qutie scary especially when he admitted that he liked to drink. We got there safely though and spent a while exploring the ruins of the ghost village. It was then time to go and meet our camels for the start of our trek into the desert. Our camel driver was called Dadia, he was wearng a turban and a long tunic and and he was just saddling the camels when we arrived, they looked so sweet and simple. Lils was called Simon and mine was Daniel. After ungracefully mounting our camels we got on our way. We walked for an hour or two thorugh dusty scrubland until we reached a nice shady tree where we had our lunch. We relaxed in the shade while Dadia whipped up a veg curry, rice and chapati over a log fire. We thought it was amazing how he managed to make chapati's in the desert. One of our camels decided to make an escape while Dadia was busy cooking and i had to man the stove while he went of into the desert to find him. It turned out he gone after a lady camel so Dadia tied his front legs together so he couldn't do it again.
After our lunch had settled we set off again. Dadia was leading the way and he sang some traditional songs as we went. The scenery didn't change much, it was dusty scrubland with a few bushes dotted around and the odd herd of goats but it was interesting and it felt like a real adventure. We stopped by a well where some locals from a nearby desert village were collecting water and the camels had a well deserved drink. We then headed towards camp which was over the other side of some beautiful, undulating, golden sand dunes. This was what you'd picture in your mind when you think of a desert. Dadia left us on the dunes to drink a beer and watch the sunset while he went on to set up camp. We wandered around the dunes, they were totally unspoilt and we were the only people in sight. Our beers had gotten a little warm during the day but they still tasted like heaven and we found a spot at the top of the tallest dune to watch the sun go down beyond the hazey horizon. When we arrived at camp we were surprised to see that two beds had been put out in the sand complete with pillow and blanket. We were expecting to be sleeping on the floor. Dadia produced another excellent meal and we then went to bed and gazed up at the stary sky.
We were woken by the sunrise the next morning and after our breakfast we went to visit a family who lived in the desert nextdoor to our camp. The family lived in a small round mud hut with a straw roof and we were ushered inside to sit with them. The lady of the house was dressed in a bright, loose saree and she was decorated with bangles all the way up her arms. She had a huge piece of jewellery, the size of a broach, sticking out of her nose and loads of golden piercings in her ears. She was cooking fresh chapatis for her families breakfast and we were given one to eat. They also gave us a warm watery milk beverage to try which i declined but Lil sampled. It wasn't good. The man of the house was in the yard seeing to the various livestock they had roaming around and they had many children coming and going. It's incredible to think that people can live and survive out here, it didn't seem like much of a life to us but they seemed happy enough. It's an unforgiving and harsh environment and it must be hard work dealing with the dryness and the heat every day, i think i would go mad.
We said our goodbyes and hopped back on Simon and Daniel to head off into the desert. Camels are not the most comfortable mode of transport and by now our bums were pretty sore, they also produce the most terrible smelling farts which is not nice if you are behind them. We went over some more amazing sand dunes which seemed to roll on forever. We were totally alone on them, just us, Dadia and our camels. However our romantic Lawrence of Arabia moment was shattered by a dog who had followed us from the camp who decided to take down and savage a gazelle which was quite sad to see.
By now the heat was intense. The sun had scorched the sky white and its rays were beating down on us hard. A haze was rising from the desert ahead of us and the sand was dotted with dryed up animal carcasses. Vultures were circling overhead and we were relieved when we stopped for lunch under the shade of a tree otherwise we might have been on the menu.
We stopped for a few hours, relaxing under our tree and waiting for the hottest part of the day to pass before our last leg of the journey. The friendly face of Mr Desert was waiting for us at our pickup point and then Lilu drove us back to Jaislamer where we had a much needed shower and a roast chicken dinner. Our room had a T.V which was a luxury we hadn't had for a very long time and after dinner we chilled out and watched some films. One thing we have noticed from listening to Indian people speak and from adverts we have seen on the television is that they use a curious mix of Hindi and English...Hinglish. They will be jabbering away in Hindi and all of a sudden some English words will slide into the sentence. It is especially evident on T.V commercials, particularly for cosmetics, where phrases such as 'added nutrients' and 'revolutionary new formula' will pop into the narrative.
We decided to stay another few days in Jaisalmer because we liked it so much. The next morning we went to see Mr Desert to thank him for a wonderful trip. We had a chat and he gave us a signed picture and we swaped addresses. He invited us to have lunch with him the next day and we accepted. We spent the afternoon looking around a glorious old Haveli (an old indian mansion) which used to be the residence of the prime minister of Jaisalmer many years ago. It was built from sandstone and was covered in detailed carvings with many balconies overlooking the busy streets below. We were shown around by a relative of the former prime minister who's family still occupied part of the Haveli. Afterwards we went for a walk around the old part town, along the tangle of narrow streets that led away from the fort. The streets were busy with colourful locals in traditional dress. The men were wearing turbans and many of them wore sarongs which they had wrapped around their crotch to look like a nappy. Bejewelled women in bright sarees were selling fruit and veg from the floor and the usual herds of cows were making a nuisance of themselves. We browsed the shops for a bit looking at all the curious items and chatting to the shopkeepers. They told us that it had been a very bad year as there had not been many tourists. The economic crisis has resulted in people not going on holidays and also the terror attack in Mumbai has put people off coming to India so they were desperate for any business they could get. That evening we went back to our room to watch T.V and sit under the fan.
The next day we went for our lunch date with Mr D. The food had been prepared my his mum and he had bought it to his office in a tiffin which is a tiered metal lunch box with compartments for diffrent dishes. He pulled up some chairs for us and served us up some food on a metal plate. It was delicious. Indians eat with their hands and Mr D turned into a real beast. He was scooping up big handfuls of rice soaked in curry and throwing it into his mouth and he was swigging milky curd from a jug which spilt down his black beard. He looked like a cat who'd just had a saucer of cream. He then licked his fingers clean and used them to pick up piles of food to top up our plates. Normally this might put us off but Mr D seemed like the sort of man who washed his hands after going to the toilet so we ate away happily.
He invited us that evening to a visit a music club so we met up again at 7.30, with my guitar in hand, to have a jam. The club was set up by Mr Desert and his friend to offer free instrument tuition to local children. It turned out that Mr D is one of the best harmonium players in the area and he and his friend played a couple of tunes for us. I then showed them some chords on the guitar and told them the western names for the notes on the harmonium. It was great to be able to play with a couple of local musicians and learn more about the traditional music of the region.
We decided to leave the next day but our bus wasn't until the afternoon so we spent the morning looking round an amazing Jain temple within the fort. Before catching our bus we went to say goodbye to Mr Desert and thanked him for making our stay so special. He gave us both a big hug and we all promised to stay in touch and with that we left the desert behind to the head to the 'City of Lakes'...Udaipur.
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Lin
non-member comment
Fantastic
Hi guys, I really enjoyed this post. I'm pretty sure that "pungent and unsociable musk" is the best phrase I've heard all year. Thanks for the info as well as a humorous travel post--those can be hard to come by!