Jaisalmer: Beers with Sanj and Colin the Camel

---

Jaisalmer is pretty damn awesome. It's a sprawling desert city which is carved entirely out of sandstone with a mammoth sandstone fort looming over it from the cliff top. Our hotel was situated just at the bottom of said cliff and had a beautiful rooftop restaurant with a stunning view out over the fort.
We decided immediately that the only way to truly appreciate this epic view was to order 3 large bottles of Kingfisher and kick back amongst the axe pillows and floor cushions with a 100 rupee (1 pound 50) pack of Marlborough lights. Done and done.

45 minutes later and feeling raaather tipsy Sanjay came up to fnd us as we were late for sunset. Apparently it doesn't wait for you - who knew! When we got there the ticket man kindly took our money and then said "RUN". Being tipsy and not wanting to pay 50 rupees for the privilege of seeing a dark city we did as he said and trotted off up the verrrrrryyy loooonnnng hill.

After about a hundred meters of trying to run and laughing hysterically at Matt's little noises we realised that everyone else that was at sunset point was now promptly leaving. Damn you cold and tasty beer!

Some nice Australian man caled 'John' stopped as he passed to say it wasn't that great anyway and we should check out the cenotaphs, which are basically fancy-pants family burial sites. They look like mini temples with lots of domes which represent each family member that is buried there. This one still had a cremation area in use where 'John' kindly informed us we could see fresh ashes. How lovely.

So off we plodded to said cenotaph but due to the running and beer combination we had suddenly become VERY LOUD and silly. All we really succeeded in doing is pissing off some American tourists that were trying to have a quiet guided tour. Being the grown ups that we are at 21, 22 and 25 years old, we hid. This got boring quickly so we then walked about for a bit going "this is nice" but not really taking anything in. Sometimes we are rubbish tourists. I blame the beer....

Anyway seeing as we'd already had one we thought best to carry on as we started.... plus it was a Saturday...Saturday = beer day. Obviously we all chose to ignore the fact it is irrelevant which day of the week it is as none of us have to go to work. I love our ridiculous justifications to keep alcohol in our lives. As a gesture of goodwill and in an effort to make peace with Sanjay we sat down for the evening with him with 3 cold beers and a bottle of whisky. Guess who the whisky was for....?! It wasn't Santa.

At first I must admit it was quite nice. We all sat cross legged on the floor amongst the axe pillows with the silk curtains blowing lightly in the evening breeze against the backdrop of the lit up fort. We were all getting merry and Sanjay was actually on the money, making half decent conversation and having a bit of a laugh - remember 'joking life is good life'. There even seemed to be a point where he finally grasped matt's sexual orientation....he showed me a picture of some rather disgusting saggy breasts on his phone and said “he no like this, no?” and I nodded “no” and he said to Matt “so she my daytime girlfriend" (pointing at Dodds), “and she my night-time girlfriend” (pointing at me with a little wink) “and so you my half girlfriend”. He then laughed hysterically and touched Matt on the leg. So we are now unsure if Sanjay understands that Matt is gay or just thinks he’s a big fat tranny. Still, I guess in some back handed way it’s a step in the right direction. If he still hasn't worked it out by Agra we are just going to put his (small) tip in an envelope with a note saying "P.S: Matt is GAY" then make sure we are at a safe distance, allow Matt to do a big camp wave and then quickly run away. Everyone’s a winner.

Anyway as the whisky bottle emptied Sanjay became more and more....Sanjay (e.g. a bit touchy and a bit gross) so we drunk up and headed to our room, politely declining his offers to joins us. Once back in the room Dodds told us a lovely story about how when me and Matt went off to the toilet, Sanjay leaned in and said "your lips look sweet - can I taste them?" - the incredibly subtle and beautifully romantic words that any girl wants to have whispered to her by a drunk man proclaiming to be their driver.

So less to say that we are now back at square one. Sanjay = bit fat perv with a whisky problem. I guess it’s endearing on some level…

The next day we woke up refreshed and ready to be enlightened by the fort. After our rubbish attempts at being tourists as of late we decided to
a) Rock up sober
b) Stop being so tight and buy an audio guide each
In hindsight I don’t think it would have mattered if we’d rocked up after 50 beers - the fort turned out to be pretty sublime. Not only was it absolutely gigantic with the most epic views out over the city but it was still lived in by the local tradesmen and shop owners, equating to a quarter of the city’s population living in a fort. Imagine being able to tell people you live in a fort – pisses all over a semi detached in Windsor. Does have its down sides though – apparently it’s putting huge strain on the infrastructure as massive amounts of water are being pumped into it every day So ultimately fort life will have to stop, but it really is pretty cool walking around such an old structure with people pottering about their day to day business and bazaar owners crying out to show you their wares. It gives you a feel of what it maybe felt like at the time.

Rather than go straight to see the palace and temples like the new found tourists we proclaimed to be, in true Matt May, Becky Dodds and Jasmine Britcher style, we went shopping for trousers. But these aren’t any old trousers, oh no, these are the ridiculously awesome Ali Barbaar pants available in every colour, pattern and material imaginable. 3 drama students idea of heaven. We soon discovered that the tiny little shop entrances lining the alleyways of the fort were in fact massive Aladdin’s caves full of hundreds of pants that they were literally throwing at you. Large bags wee emptied onto the floor covering it in a mass of multicoloured material. After an hour of trying on SEVERAL pairs of pants we all made a purchase and happily trundled off to see the palace. I’ve never seen Matt look so happy – he instantly changed into his black baggy number and was enjoying the extra breeze to his ball area. I guess it made up for the smashing pain they were about to receive every time he landed on his camel. I must admit it as hard to concentrate after the pants buying – all I could think about was what an awesome gigantic twat I would look later on in the desert – the thought of it filled me with glee.

Somehow though, I managed to take my minds of the pants for long enough to appreciate the fort. The views out over the sandstone city were absolutely stunning and the local Indian people who were walking around were equally stunning with women in brightly colored saris that glittered in the sun. Me and Dodds fell in love with one of the women that had on a rainbow head dress and looked like a mermaid. Dodds pottered over to introduce herself and ask if she would mind if we took a picture. We then realised she had a beautiful baby boy wrapped up in the layers of her sari. She coyly said yes so we began papping but couldn’t work out why her friends seemed a tad on the defensive. So we politely thanked her in Indian (shu-kree-ah) and walked away. Matt then kindly informed us that she was in fact in the middle of breast feeding when we had plundered over and the reason her friends were on the defensive is because we were, in essence, photographing a woman with her tit out. Considering a bare shoulder is deemed a shameful display of sexual prowess it probably is not in good taste to photograph a stranger with a whole tit out. Still, you live, you learn.

After our cultural faux paux we went off with Sanjay to see a friend of his that wanted to show us his home made silver. Usually we hate being forced into these types of situations but I think secretly we were all hoping for a bit of a bargs, and it turned out to be pretty cool. Sanjay took us through some of Jaisalmer’s back streets to get to his friends house and showed us how they paint on the front of their houses after a wedding to name the people that have now been wed and the date. Then they paint a picture of Ganesh who seems to be pretty lucky out here – he’s on everything. I guess people in India don’t move much or this could become problematic.

We then went to his friend’s house who showed us this black stone thing that you use to test the quality of silver. You rub the piece of silver on the stone and if it rubs over silvery then its good quality and if it rubs of rose coloured or green then it’s either fake or mixed with other crap. He then tipped massive bags of homemade jewellery out on to the mat in front of us and we waded our way through it. I found a beautiful elephant ring and then quickly realized I couldn’t afford it, so after wasting an hour of the mans time we left empty handed. Just another reason why Indians love western tourists – we will quite happily waste money on endless pairs of stupid pants but won’t part with a few extra pounds for something that might actually last more than a couple of washes. Still I stick by my decision, the pants are cool.

Next on the day’s events was the thing I’d been looking forward to since finding out about it in England – a camel trek followed by a night in the desert – done and done 

Now to say Matt wasn’t looking forward to it with quite the same enthusiasm would be a slight under-exaggeration. By the time we drove to the desert and arrived at our camp for the night he looked like he might either pass out or crap himself at any given moment. Me and Dodds being the camel crazy lovers that we are couldn’t wait to hop on and within minutes we were up and mounted. Matt followed shortly behind. I tried to get some pictures of him but he refused to turn his head to face the camera so I got a very stiff side profile of a Matt May muttering through gritted teeth “I can’t turn my head or I might die”. It’s true though – it was at least a six foot drop to the ground – he could have sprained his ankle or anything! Love you Mattykins :p

Then the real fun began. As the sun began to make its way down we serenely made our way into the desert and within minutes we were surrounded by nothing else other than rolling sand dunes and a stunning landscape. I looked down to see the silhouettes of Chris, Colin and Camille (our aptly named camels), making their way through the desert in a caravan-type line. Because we had arrived late (shocker), it meant we had missed the rest of the camel treks so got to make our way through the deserts with just ourselves which made it even more surreal - like we were on our way to a hidden well or something, with nothing else around for miles ahead. Just goes to show that my constant lateness is (sometimes) a massive virtue. No sharing the desert with excitable Germans for us! Just Me, Colin, Dodds, Chris, Matt, and Camille, calmly plodding our way through miles of rolling golden sand.

Once we reached the highest point in the desert we caught up with the rest of the camel treks so picked a quiet spot to enjoy the sunset on our own private sand dune. A local kid then came over in an orange turban with some wooden bits of wood which he clacked together to ‘make up’ a welcome song for each of us using our names – “jaaasmeeen, backy and ma-T”. We gave him 20 rupees for the privilege to which he said “50 would make me happy”. The bloody cheek! A 5 bed mansion in Oz and a never ending supply of chocolate milk would make me happy but I don’t see any western tourists handing that out! Still, probably not worth getting indigent over an extra 20 pence. Anyway, he wandered off to clack away to some other tourists so we made our way further down the sand dunes to find a more solitary spot to catch the sun set. It was beautiful. The desert was bathed in a golden red glow as the sun finally set behind the dunes and the air slowly cooled around us.

After a bit of snap happy camel papping (me on Colin, me next to Colin, me behind Colin, me standing cautiously by Colin’s head), we hopped back on Colin, Chris and Camille and headed back o camp for a local dinner. By this point I had decided that me and Colin had formed a good enough friendship to go for a little trot together. So with the permission of the old man in the turban that was guiding us I “gee, gee’d” and off we lollopped. Dodd’s soon followed suit and I think old man in turban assumed that Matt and Camille wee also ready for a wee adventure so ‘gee gee’d’ Camille on Matt’s behalf. Unfortunately Matt and Camille were still at that volatile stage of their relationship where the trust hadn’t quite been established yet, so when Camille bounded forwarded into a quick trot Matt let out an amazing noise that sounded slightly like a dying bird. I tried to shout after him “bum down, hips forward” as he squawked off into the sunset but I think he was too busy holding on for dear life and trying not to keep landing on his balls to comprehend what I was saying. The squawking went on for several minutes as me and Dodds laughed hysterically as three camels and three stupid westerners in silly pants lollopped across the desert floor followed by the sound of a castrated peacock.

Eventually the fun ended and we dismounted rather sadly. Me and Colin ad been through a lot together – walking, posing for the camera, having a wee trot, learning about each other’s abilities (Colin had the ability to bite and I had the ability to stay away from his face). It was a blossoming romance that ended all too abruptly for my liking. Matt on the other hand couldn’t look happier to be back on solid ground. Although he has mentioned Camille several times since leaving the desert….Secretly I think there was more love there than was let on :p

We then sat down for the eveing with a pack of Marlboroughs and some honey and lemon Chi and looked through our desert pics. Unfortunately Matt didn’t have quite so many as he was scared what Camille’s reaction might have been if he had realized Matt only had one hand on the saddle. Dinner consisted of some weird stringy bean things that looked like and tasted like sticks that the camels chew on. Still camel trotting makes you hungry so I ate what I could and laid back to enjoy the evening entertainment which involved a local family playing a range of drums and clacky things and something that looked suspiciously like an organ.

There was also a beautiful girl dressed in a royal blue skirt ad tunic and head dress all covered in silver jingly jangly things. She did several dances for us including one with a massive pyramid thing balanced on her head. She then got the girls up for a bit of a boogie and he all tried to copy her Bollywood style arm movements and elegant lowering to the floor. Dodds being the walking contradiction that she is clearly felt extremely uncomfortable at the realization that everyone’s focus was on her (despite usually being ne of the loudest people in a room). She was trying to do a “this is nice, I’m really enjoying it” smile but her mouth was a bit contorted as if she was suffering from constipation. I, on the other hand, was in my element. Within minutes I had convinced myself that I was by far the best westerner ever to dance in Indian style and had truly missed my calling in life. All my lessons from Matt and Brianna on how to shake my hips like a Jamaican goddess came flooding back and I was soon gyrating and arm bopping like an Indian Shakira. What a twat. I think I must have looked somewhere between a drugged up Britters in her epic fall from A list celeb to trailer trash and a special needs frog.

And somewhere in the world there is a European video recording with evidence of this. Poor man was trying to subtly film his wife having a little bop with a local dancer girl but what he actually got was a gyrating arm bopping Jaz with a massive grin on her face obliviously dancing in front of his wife and camera as if she was a born again Bollywood movie star with the rhythm of a retarded giraffe.

Apparently Sanjay enjoyed the little show though as he later told me in his leering mannerism “I like watching your back as you dance”. Lovely. Subtle Sanjay strikes again.

After discovering the Bollywood dancing diva that I am we all hopped on the back on a camel cart to make our way back out into the desert for a night under the stars. The whole journey there was absolutely hysterical. Before we had left Sanjay (who surprisingly had been on the whisky) was drunkenly trying to talk to another guest and clearly embarrassing himself. He then came over to us and threatened to join us in the desert. The thought of spending a night near Sanjay I the middle of the desert was enough to make me want to throw up on myself a little bit. In fact I would rather throw up on myself and re-eat the contents than wake up to Sanjay’s face looming over me saying “hello darlng”. Shudder.

With Sanjay’s most recent antics on the brain we spent the whole journey playing a fucked up game of ‘would you rather’. The choice, shockingly, was always not Sanjay. I think we each picked, mums, dads, grandparents and old fat lecturers over the Sanjay option and then freaked ourselves out with some ‘what if’ scenarios of him appearing in the dessert under our bed. Eventually we arrived in tears of laughter. We’d gone past Norway on the way who were talking about camels or something dull (that was so 2 and a half hours ago) ad we all agreed we were much more fun than them – even with their ‘super duper’ amazing family home stays. It would be nice if they got a little bit eaten by a desert worm or something.

We then laid on our little camp beds that were all pushed together and snuggled under the layers of duvets and looked up at the stars. It was one of those moments when people have epiphanies or self enlightenment or a moment of discovery and wotnot. I discovered that I was chilly and have a weak bladder so went off to pee.

When I returned I did have my little moment though. I looked up and the whole sky was just covered in the tiny little lights in all sorts of beautiful patterns. It was so clear and so beautiful and I couldn’t help but get all philosophical and think about other worlds and other people all looking at the same stars. I allowed myself to think of Bash for a moment and wandered if he was looking at the same stars at home. The I realized he definitely wasn’t as
a) It was 5 o clock in the evening at home and still light
b) The reason I am in the desert is because you can’t see the stars from your bedroom window
c) People in Britain don’t spend their evenings staring up at the stars – they have bad telly and good pubs

With that mystery solved I went back to laughing about nothing with Matt and Dodds. Matt had got the camera out and was shrieking hysterically every time he took an awful picture of me poking out from my 50, 0000 layers of quilt in my cowboy hat. I must admit, I was not at my most attractive. I had my Ali Barbaar pants tightly tucked into my knee high socks with my hoody hood pulled firmly over my head with my cowboy hat on top. It was ridiculously chilly. On top of his I was sleeping on what turned out to be the Nazi of all camp beds. I say camp bed – I mean length of material tied to two poles. On top of this the temperate dropped rapidly so the wind chill fact increased and then my stupid over active imagination kept thinking everything from Sanjay to a rabid desert dog was hiding underneath my bed. I think I had about 2 hours max. It was The most uncomfortable nights sleep I have ever had . But when I did manage to coax myself out from underneath my duvet cocoon (which involved a lot of convincing myself that I didn’t come to the desert to hide under a smelly cover just because I was worried my face would fall off from the cold), I realised what a rare thing this was. I can probably safely say I have slept under that stars a maximum of 5 times in my life – 5 out of roughly 9125 sleeps (and you’ll be pleased to know I did that maths in my head) – that’s pretty damn rare.

Unfortunately I couldn’t muster the same motivation to crawl out of bed at 5.45 in the morning to watch the sun rise in the freezing cold desert. Matt and Dodds were going though so eventually I forced myself. Turned out to be a pretty awesome sight seeing the sun re-bathing the cold desert sands in its warm morning glow. It was a bit like life had been put on pause and someone had hit the play button again to allow it to continue.

Anyway that’s enough that ‘sublime wonderment’ bollocks for now. We all came back to Sanjay’s car looking slightly chilly and completely K.O’d and quite happy to head back to civilization. Matt proud in the knowledge he had attempted and survived his time on such a dangerous and ferocious animal as Camille, me looking like I’d spent the night drinking sambucca in a freezer and Dodds still with her boobs intact (it was a worry amidst all that camel bouncing). All in all, a job well done.

Jasmina Asiapants, over and out.

---

Comments

[Long lost friend]

Looks like you have had an amazing time