Spot the Cow

I have trouble remembering what day it is, and what the date is - and thats  because I'm on holiday not for other reasons thanks! And  today - to further stretch the doubts about my senility -  I did what I had intended to do yesterday. What happened was that yesterday after I set off across town to look for the Boat Ride, I sort of got lost and then had the most urgent stomach cramps which led me to grab the nearest Autorickshaw back to the Hotel where I stayed the rest of the day. Actually I did  venture out later and got lost again but ultimately came out where I hoped I would and got back for sunset.

 That night was the last night of a nine day festival of some sort and was interrupted by the most – well to me it was an - unholy racket that most closely resembled trying to sleep by a rail crossing as a train takes 40 minutes to go past – there was the ding ding ding of some sort of Bell, a loud bashing drum and someone blowing on a bugle, a single long and often repeated hoot. It just went on and on at about 4 in the morning. So today feeling fine I set off for the boat trip out past the fabled Octopussy Lake Palace Hotel – you only get to land if youre a guest or you have a booking for dinner at the restaurant - and to land at another island in this shallow lake, where a much less sumptuos  converted summer house is an expensive hotel but you can la nd and wlak round the gardens. I took my book thinking I would lounge round on the grass under the trees in  the lake breeze but alas there were Keep Off the Grass signs everywhere and no seats except in a concrete courtyard beside the restaurant  where Coke was about 5 times its usual price and I notied NZ Cloudy Bay Suavignon Blanc for 8000 Rupees a bottle ( thats about $AU200 and it sells in Oz for around 40 I think) Needless to say I drank my water, and waitied for the ferry to return and take me back to shore.



Looking back at the City Palace



Nice Gardens but Please Dont Touch



I  had lunch at a moderately expensive restaurant outside the front gate to the City Palace - it was shady and cool in the breeze  and a nice place to watch people coming and going. A couple of french women sat nearby accompanied  by  their driver, and watching their body language I was once again glad I hadnt opted to do the Personalised Tour with own Private driver that was so temptingly offered at the beginning. I remembered a short tour I once did before, in Borneo with a driver and it really becomes maddening to have the helpful driver intruding on everything that happens, destroying any chance for privacy or personal reflection on anything when the guys in earshot, inevitably affecting every decision and impression you get about everyhwhere you go - these women looked like they wished he would disappear!  In Jodhpur 

one morning, very early when I was already at the rooftop restaurant , two women who had checked in late the night before appeared, took a few quick pics and then said goodbye as the Driver was waiting. Definitely not my cup of tea!



My View



My Rooftop Restaurant   - my window is top left

I seem to be having trouble leaving Udaipur – its very picturesque and  Dream Heaven is a nice place to stay. I am not desperate to inspect every fort and palace in Rajasthan so will linger here a little longer I think and then eventually make a fairly fast trip to Varanassi – but I still have three weeks so there’s plenty of time. Tomorrow I am going to hire a motorbike and head for the hills.  

Dream Heaven

The Bus to Udaipur left at 7 so I had ordered - and paid for - an early breakfast but when I went to the rooftop restaurant the guys were still sleeping so I left without disturbing them. I later remembered I should have booked on an Express Bus but I hadn’t, so it was an all stops journey that took about 8 hours, firstly  back through the flat and dry and uninteresting  eastern edges of  the desert  and then through interesting hills that were thickly wooded in parts. Where the bus ground slowly up the winding    hills   I saw monkeys in the trees and once in a deep pool several buffalo cooling off - I  must write about the animals here- they are something that always  makes me smile -  In one town I saw an elephant waiting to pull a cart  getting filled with rubble and at another   merchants yards stacked with massive marble blocks and  stacked  slabs  waiting to be sold.

We drove past yard after yard of these places, for at least half an hour   -  so many places selling marble and  granite, almost all of it white, the occasional grey or green and less often red. The bus was never empty and often there were people – ie women – sitting squashed on the floor, and at many brief stops  men would walk up and down outside  selling food and drinks .   Arriving at Udaipur I had a headache because my side of the bus was facing the sun all day and I was in the window seat.

 I checked into the Jagat Niwas hotel I had  picked from LP -  it was a very elegant quiet place, all white and shiny marble – now I know where they got it from – but the room, for 2000rupees  was tiny and didn’t have a  window, and there was barely enough space to walk round the bed. I took three Nurofen- plus, drank a litre of water and went to sleep.  Later I  discovered that the  hinged grill above the mirror in the bathroom  could be unlatched and folded down to give me a tiny  secret view of the lake if I stood on a chair but  after some food I  checked other accommodation nearby and decided to move in the morning. This place was too civilized for me . And I do love a bargain - which this wasnt.

The games are over and no one was killed! The Indian TV news shows  are reporting it as huge success, ridiculing the people  who were so critical at the beginning and now asking  “Is India ready to host the Olympics?” They are very happy they  came second in the Gold Medal count – their best ever -  after Australia and just in front of   - England?  They, and the papers are also in raptures about Sachin Tendulkar   and India’s series win against Australia. Its widely said that Indians are fanatical about cricket  and they often mention Hadlee and Martin Crowe and sometimes other famous Kiwi Cricketers when I tell them I am a Kiwi, but when the test was on and I asked them the score, nobody seemed to know. I  was really pleased about Geoff Huegills win – what a comeback!

Udaipur is   set round some lovely lakes, and out in the middle of one is a famous palace that takes up a small island. A James Bond movie – well part of Octopussy, apparently- was filmed there and so  everywhere round the touristy  parts cheap hotels  advertise nightly screenings of the film. I might go see it - I mean who remembers Octopussy? Was it Roger Moores ?  Its amazing how  movie making can bring fame to a place – I have seen the same sort of promotion in Morocco where parts of Gladiator were filmed, and in Thailand where a forgettable movie with Leonardo di Caprio was filmed -  “The Beach” and there were also tours advertised elsewhere in Thailand to :James Bond Island – not sure which movie that related to.

I  moved to Dream Heaven Palace Hotel after a leisurely – and expensive   breakfast at Jagat Niwas this morning. I sat in a cushioned alcove directly above the water with a fabulous view across the lake and had several coffees while I finished my latest book – Farewell to Arms by Earnest Hemingway. I really enjoyed it but wasn’t expecting such a sad ending. The few bookshops   run into have the same but quite wide and interesting collection of books. My new room is way up high, very unsophisticated, but quite wonderful with paintings on the walls and a great view for 800 rupees. This afternoon I shall tour the City Palace, and get a new book to read.

Walking in the Park

A slow start today - waking to the chanting of a group of elderly women walking the narrow alleyways below and ending up at a little temple nearby. I laughed when I saw one of them tap her tambourine on the rump of  a cow getting in the way. I was going to go on a tour to a nearby village but they wont do it for one person - even if you would pay double, so in the end I went for a walk down past the famous clocktower.

I bought two cotton shirts and some food and eventually decided, as it was a particularly hot day, to go to the Mandore Gardens, 11km away -terraced gardens, fountains and pools were described surrounding ancient temples from when the capital was Marwar, just before Jodhpur superceded it in the 16th century. The rickshaw cost 80 rupees, I had my book and some  extra food and water and I decided I would just rest there for the afternoon - faint hope!  Firstly the place was really filthy - I mean the pools were littered with plastic bottles and rubbish, as were the gardens and the lawns, and even the cenotaphs and ancient temples were neglected, covered in pigeon shit and rubbish and falling apart.

All in all it was rather sad as the ancient monuments were quite fantastic. And when I found a shady patch of grass to sit on, I became a magnet for beggars and kids and people playing music wanting money. The monkeys were interesting and there were squirrels everywhere but the heat was stifling. I fell asleep at one point, lying on the dirty rubbish strewn grass but the next round of beggars soon woke me! I got the bus back - Fare 7 rupees - about 20 cents - after looking through the adjacent museum. The Bus driver was a lovly talkative chap, telling me he gets 300rupees per day and he works 30 days a month. He wants to go and live in Canada or New Zealand or America so he can do better. I noticed how patient a driver he was, like it seems to me all Indians are, certainly on the roads where there seems to be no rules, there are very few traffic lights and everyone just seems toweave in and arond everyone else to get where they want with hardly any agro. theres lots of horn tooting but its not done angrily like it would be in NZ and Australia but is just signalling that there is a vehicle squeezing by from behind. I wonder if the presence of cows everywhere is a calming influence? They seem to be everywhere, just watching us! 

Tomorrow I  get the Bus to Udaipur. I've decided not to go to Jaisalmeer though it apparently has a wonderful fort, but there are more forts for me to see round Udaipur and north of there.

Jodhpur : the Blue City

Sometimes when I wake up my first thought is "Oh my God, I'm still in India" This is supposed to be a holiday but its really hard work - everyday you have to try and decide where and what you will eat and what risks you are going to take with it, what you are going to do for the day, how youre going to cope with the heat and the dust, and the people that hassle you all the time, the people who are going to try and rip you off, the language difficulties, and then start planning your next move, which place and by which means will you get there,counting your money, hiding it...all that. I probably should have stayed in Pushkar a bit longer - it was really quirky and fun there. But then once I get outside its fantastic and I love the life and the colour and the noise and the action, the people, the surprises almost at every turn.

 The Temple at the Fort

This guy made me fresh Sugar Cane juice..lovely

Jodphur is an horrendously crowded noisy and dusty city of over a million and I am staying in the Shahi Guest House in Old Jodphur right up under the shadow of the massive fortress, Mehangheer. The Guest House is an "Haveli" a converted old style home and you would really need to be a mountian goat to live in one. The rooms are quite large but piled on top of each other with almost verticle steps running up to the rooftop where people sleep and where in this case their rooftop restaurant is. All these places are squashed together in a maze of congested streets and alleyways, and a few main thoroughfares lined with tiny cramped shops, swimming in rubbish and dust, motorbikes and autorickshaws and masses of people. Its more crowded than Old Delhi because the streets are much narrower for one thing, and there are a couple of differences Ive noticed in particular - firstly there doesn't seem to be any beggars here, and secondly kids, and I thought surprisingly, girls as well,  are really friendly and they often approach me and ask me my name - so I tell them, ask them theirs and then I shake their hands and say "Nice to meet you Kamoosh" or whatever it is. But the wonderful cows are here aplenty, and donkeys and a camel train squeezed by this morning through the narrow lane near the Hotel. There are also dogs and heaps of pigeons. And muslims which were rare in Pushkar - so no crackly loudspeaker calls to prayer at sunrise...grrrr. 

The real problem with this Blog is I that am trying to convey something, an experience, which is just too overwhelming a lot of the time. Take the Fort I went to today - you've seen a picture up above that I took from the roof of the Haveli last night. But you cant feel the heat, you cant hear the racket or hear horns tooting or the call from the Mosque or a kid laughing down below, you don't have dust on your feet and you cant get a sense of the way that thing looms over  and above, an aura of  massiveness and impregnability. And then when you go there and walk up the avenue towards an enormous gate between the massive walls and look up at those lattice windows and balconies and ramparts way up with flocks of swallows swooping across in loops, its just indescribable. LP advised for once getting the Audio Guide and it was so worth it - the narrator an Indian with a deep gravelly voice spoke with a beautiful english accent, and there was a background of traditional sitar music making the whole experience quite dramatic. People you will just have to get here and see and experience it for yourselves - I am telling you, you wont be disappointed.

Speaking of disappointment, I took an autorickshaw to the Umaid Bhawan Palace after the Fort where I had been wandering all morning. From a distance this place looks impressive - and actually it is - but most of it has been converted into a very expensive Hotel - like $1000 per night for a cheaper suite. I watched  as a limo pulled up and a beautifully costumed doorman - Rajput style - sprang forth and opened the door to - a child! And the bags were carried in as the kid disappeared with attendant inside.

 Another significant chunk of the place is still the residence of the son of the Mhrajah who built the place only 70 years ago, so its quite new - and the bit we are allowed to pay 50 rupees to enter is essentially what I found to be a nauseating tribute to the many wonders of the Maharajah Umaid Singh a guy I thought in some portraits looked a bit like Dr Evil, but with a moustache, a Turban and a tan! He built this massive place of 365 rooms to help the poor people during a drought apparently - this fact is repeated breathlessly everywhere - but I wondered why they didn't explain how his massive collection of clocks, cars, art and aeroplanes helped them. 

Spiritual Highs and Lows

Captions Please...

Room 7 : Not the Honeymoon Suite

Scenes from a Procession that went noisily by at the Bazaar

Today was my last in Pushkar and I didnt get up early this time. Instead I  had a nice leisurely breakfast of muesli with honey and yoghurt as well as coffee and fresh juice - pineaple and mint, and finished "Eat Pray Love" - I found it even worse than I had at first thought it to be - this womans trip to India consisted of getting a taxi from the airport that landed her here to the Ashram, and staying there for a few weeks with an assortment of equally self absorbed europeans and americans, the Guru she had come to learn from was actually in New York!!  - and most of her learning she got from a Texan in his 60's.-such as it was - but she did get to the point where she understood perfectly how the entire universe worked - wish I could have asked her about quarks and bosons and dark matter - but after that she went to Bali and eventually hooked up with a Brazilian guy, and I think thats probably when she got over the divorce - she had been told she wouldn't get over her ex until she got under someone else. This was how deep it got. God help America is all I can say if this is what they think is great autobiography. Actually I thought it was so typical of American evangelical religions obscene preoccupation with personal salvation and self gratification - she actually wrote a lot more about pleasuring herself than she did about the poor indian women smashing rocks on the road outside the Ashram - she just didnt get it. I see Margaret gave the movie 2 stars -  maybe the scenery was nice!

I circled the lake after breakfast and saw a snake charmer with a cobra, was offered Hash, and resisted another charmer, a self described Gypsy who liked my hat and invited me back to her camp outside the town.

I wasnt going to say anymore about that because i thought it would be obvious I didnt go.!Later I went with a guide for a walk round the town and we went into the nearby hills to a temple where I met a really interesting Saddhu at a small temple up a ravine full of monkeys.

 The Saddu seemed wonderfully happy and talkative - he told a story about a guy at a movie for the first time who attacked a tiger on the  screen with his knife.He was quite amazing actually.

 He showed me pictures of his previous life as a completely naked Saddhu for a few years.He has been at this little temple for 4 years and stays there all day long - people bring him stuff - he never goes to town.Mind you it was beautifully quiet there and he had a nice view across trees  to the town in the distance and there was a permanent spring of fresh water.But poor Saddhu - my guide exlained he had "never touched a woman" but the Temple was actually dedicated to a female God and there was a very interesting stylised vulva as part of the altar region - or whatever they call that bit where the incense and flowers go. 

Yogi Toast Anyone?

This morning I left Seventh Heaven before dawn and had to step over staff sleeping in the doorway and find the key to the door to get out to the street, which was even quieter than the morning before. I headed for a prominent hill with  a temple on top, intending to be there for sun rise but I was still only half way up by then, and already drenched in perspiration. Nevertheless it was a good walk and a very steep climb that would have been hell at any other time of the day,  but great views from the top. The temple was pretty wretched.

 On the way up I passed a miserable looking fellow scratching out a tune and singing - more screeching than singing really - for his supper. I had ignored him on the way up but coming back I stopped for  a chat and a turn on the instrument and a photo. Further down there was another and then a third, and the quality of music and singing improved with each one till the last  which included three tiny tots all dressed up with turbans and dancing as well. But by then I had given out all my spare cash so didn't feel bold enough to take a photo especially with the parents waiting expectantly for my cash. The kids all begged for "chapati, chapati" and Ive since discovered what  they wanted was for me to buy a box of the powder they make them from.

Its quite incredible to think that these people are not doing this for fun but for survival, and I guess they must make only a few rupees a day - these are the actual people who you read about in United Nations  statistics who survive on less than $US1 per day - thats about 50 rupees I think. One couple in the main bazaar who seemed to be doing rather better were dressed in fearsome multicoloured costumes with bells and the woman beat a drum while the guy leaped all over the place like a demented gymnast and periodically lashed himself with an enormous tapering  red whip. The whip flashed round his body two or three times with a mighty crack and the tip ended up bruising and drawing blood from his upper left arm, around which a bloody tourniquet was wrapped. He was quite an intimidating sight as he thrust himself into the personal space of every person on the street and every shopkeeper, and hardly anyone didnt add to a two inch stack of notes he brandished in his other hand. These guys  (below) are I think whats known as a Sadhu, a monk like character who has renounced worldly things and relies on the Gods to sustain him. In effect they are like beggars but have adopted the moral high ground and maybe as a result their pleas for cash are harder to resist. They are certainly colourful characters.

I bought a loose green shirt and some black trousers for $10 on my way back to the Hotel.. I'm hoping they'll be cooler to wear round than my usual shorts and shirts. I also bought a book called "Eat Pray Love" - on the cover it said it was about a woman going to India after a messy divorce- sounded vaguely familiar- so I thought it might be an interesting read "over 6 million copies sold" And now made into a Major Motion Picture!. So far shes got as far as Italy and I haven't been impressed - she sounds like the sort of woman that would be in the audience of the Oprah Winfrey Show - but maybe something will happen in India.It really is a place full of surprises:

WTF is that supposed to be?

The Missionary Position

My bus trip to Pushkar - such a lovely name - went quickly and wasn't an ordeal at all, though hot as hell in the unairconditioned bus even with the sliding window open. I thought it was funny that the two  german backpackers opposite spent the entire time reading their  German Lonely Planet  Guide to India instead of looking out the window! Mind you it wasn't all that spectacular but every now and again something surprising would flash by - like a camel, or loaded up donkeys,  a strange little temple, or a classic rural scene such as a colourful woman  with cows under a tree, or men peeing onto a wall - whatever!  I had booked my first night at one of the recommended places, "Seventh Heaven" but the only available room was No 1, the most expensive - double what I had paid per night in Jaipur. The Hotel entrance was a huge ancient wooden double door with a tiny door through one into a lovely scented courtyard with a fountain.The staff greeting me were really friendly and pleased i had turned up for their most expensive room., to which I was soon escorted, on the 3rd, and uppermost floor - so it had great views.

I think it would be best described as the Honeymoon Suite as it had a massive  canopied double bed with curtains all round and mirrors, drapes and cushions, a bit like something from the Arabian Nights with a domed ceiling, stained glass lamps and a low recliner, a writing desk and large seperate bathroom. There were even some books, and the one that caught my desperate eye, and perhaps should not have been surprised to see in such a romantic room as this  was "The Missionary Position" . I was  quite excited to see it actually,because I had heard of this book and so I  read most of it while having my dinner in the rooftop restaurant a couple of hours later. There were no pictures or illustrations and sorry to disappoint but its actually a critque by my old friend Christopher Hitchens of the life and work of  Mother Theresa. She's dead now of course but among other things he felt her work needed much more in the way of critical investigation and a lot less hysterical adulation. When she received the Nobel Peace Prize - for having done nothing about peace according to Hitchens - she said the greatest scourge facing mankind was abortion, but of course being seriously catholic she utterly opposed contraception, and didnt seem to see a link between overpopulation and poverty. Indeed according to Hitchens her work was essentially "missionary work " that is spreading the Gospel,  and "the poor" were the vehicle she used to advance the Gospel. She was obviously a good woman but in Hitchens view seriously over-rated.  A good read, believe me!

I had company that night in the Honeymoon suite : mosquitoes! And I was woken by dogs barking and cows bellowing in the street below so I got up early and wandered through the initially almost  deserted streets watching the stalls being opened, people getting food and starting their daily routines, and monkeys. I found the lake edge and the 'ghats" which are broad stairways that descend to the water. Here  hindu people and their families come to be blessed and to pray and bathe in the sacred water. Guide books warn of the scams that also operate here but also suggest participation so eventually I decided to just get on with it and participate in the  ritual. For my "donation - he was suggesting 2000 rupees- a priest prays for me and all my family and our futures, annoints me with water and dabs my forehead with crimson paint, and ties an orange and yellow  string round my wrist - my "passport" he said, so that once done I dont have to go through it again. My "puja" was 500 Rupees - maybe $12?  Plus then I got to take my photos!

After that I went to a rooftop restaurant and had my breakfast overlooking the lake. Amazing views.

PS If you click on the Photos they should open out into a much better pic. In the top one if you do that you will see Monkeys