Bruce and Marija go to India
Mar 28th, 2008, 04:45 PM
#42
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As planned we met our guide in the lobby at 7:00. Having just been on safari, we were clad in many layers anticipating more cold weather. I was relieved that we were overdressed and could easily shed some fleece. The Oberoi golf cart whisked us to the Taj Mahal where there were several security checks, one of which made Bruce check his camera cleaning device. We happily joined the small group of tourists enthusiastically admiring the Taj Mahal. Afternoon visitors would not be so fortunate since the Danish prime minister was in town and the monument would be closed to visitors. (This isn’t unusual. Not only did Sarkozy get us thrown out of our hotel, he also had the Taj Mahal closed when he came to Agra.) After a couple of hours of gawking and photographing we returned to the Oberoi for a truly elaborate breakfast. Skip the poorly prepared eggs benedict and stick with the excellent Indian dishes.
Suitably fueled, we set off for Agra Fort and the so-called “baby Taj“, stopping for views of the Taj Mahal from across the river. Traffic was intense but always amusing and it gave us an opportunity to listen to the concerns of our guide, a middle aged man who wanted to talk about the difficulties of middle class life in India. We were particularly interested in his take on the distressing poverty in India. As is so often the case, a seemingly unrealistic part of the blame was attributed to the poor themselves. Such rationalization no doubt makes it easier to live surrounded by unrelenting poverty.
As we viewed the Red Fort and looked at the Taj Mahal in the distance, we wondered whether the stories of the “greatest monument to love” were correct or whether the more sinister and cynical explanations for Shah Jahan actions were closer to the truth. The tale of Shah Jahan pining for his beloved Mumtaz while gazing at the Taj Mahal from his prison in the Red Fort may be more poignant than accurate.
It was in Agra that we first noticed a striking blue statue of Dr. Ambedkar with big black glasses, an untouchable who was the chief architect of the Indian constitution. Monuments in his honor are sprinkled throughout India.
We declined a visit to a marble inlay workshop, not because we lack artistic appreciation, but because we hate sales pressure. Instead we returned to the Oberoi where we had a late lunch overlooking the pool and then watched flocks of trained pigeons darkening the sky. The pigeons responded to whistles and calls of their masters. Before dinner there was also a human spectacle of dance and song which could be viewed from the room balconies. Dinner was an excellent thali at the Indian restaurant in the hotel. (We never strayed from Indian food for lunch and dinner during our trip except for a sandwich one afternoon at the Rambagh Palace. We also avoided chicken since there was a bird flu epidemic in Calcutta. Who knows how far they truck those chickens.)
Suitably fueled, we set off for Agra Fort and the so-called “baby Taj“, stopping for views of the Taj Mahal from across the river. Traffic was intense but always amusing and it gave us an opportunity to listen to the concerns of our guide, a middle aged man who wanted to talk about the difficulties of middle class life in India. We were particularly interested in his take on the distressing poverty in India. As is so often the case, a seemingly unrealistic part of the blame was attributed to the poor themselves. Such rationalization no doubt makes it easier to live surrounded by unrelenting poverty.
As we viewed the Red Fort and looked at the Taj Mahal in the distance, we wondered whether the stories of the “greatest monument to love” were correct or whether the more sinister and cynical explanations for Shah Jahan actions were closer to the truth. The tale of Shah Jahan pining for his beloved Mumtaz while gazing at the Taj Mahal from his prison in the Red Fort may be more poignant than accurate.
It was in Agra that we first noticed a striking blue statue of Dr. Ambedkar with big black glasses, an untouchable who was the chief architect of the Indian constitution. Monuments in his honor are sprinkled throughout India.
We declined a visit to a marble inlay workshop, not because we lack artistic appreciation, but because we hate sales pressure. Instead we returned to the Oberoi where we had a late lunch overlooking the pool and then watched flocks of trained pigeons darkening the sky. The pigeons responded to whistles and calls of their masters. Before dinner there was also a human spectacle of dance and song which could be viewed from the room balconies. Dinner was an excellent thali at the Indian restaurant in the hotel. (We never strayed from Indian food for lunch and dinner during our trip except for a sandwich one afternoon at the Rambagh Palace. We also avoided chicken since there was a bird flu epidemic in Calcutta. Who knows how far they truck those chickens.)
Mar 28th, 2008, 08:15 PM
#43
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wasn't the thali good....we had that too....one meat one and one veggie one....a perfect dinner in a nice dining room
can't believe the eggs were not perfection?? they probably only cost about $10 per egg...
can't believe the eggs were not perfection?? they probably only cost about $10 per egg...
Mar 29th, 2008, 06:09 PM
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Travel247, we were only at the Park for 4 hours between 3AM and 7AM and only saw the area between the front desk and our room. At 3AM hot pink lobby chairs didn't appeal. I assume we also got the least desirable room in the entire hotel since all of Delhi was supposedly sold out due to Constitution Day. Under different circumstances I might have thought the hotel was great.
Mar 31st, 2008, 06:12 PM
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JAIPUR:
Once we inched our way out of Agra, our first stop was Fatehpur Sikri. The guide hired a rickshaw to take us to the main entrance where I sprang for a camcorder permit. I had acquired a camcorder for our trips to Africa where it was a great supplement to Bruce’s camera--a video of mating lions trumps the stills. Since I had the camcorder I decided to let it join us in India. Many of the sites in India that allow cameras without extra charges have camcorder fees, ranging anywhere from 10 rupees to 200 rupees. Although these are small amounts you can’t help but wonder whether it’s going to be worth the effort of obtaining a camcorder pass when chances are excellent that little of interest will be in motion, or if it is it’ll be gone by the time the camcorder is roused. It was in Varanasi that the camera earned its keep capturing the sounds and sights of life along the Ganges. I also managed to get some good clips of a tiger and of Bruce trying to stay on his camel.
Although nothing moved for the camcorder at Fatehpur Sikri I recorded our guide telling the tale of the magical properties of a particular type of tree: you put its leaves in your pocket on the way home and your mother won’t notice that you’re late. Too bad customs doesn’t allow import of plant materials… It was at Fatehpur Sikri that the guide recommended we watch the movie Mughal-e-Azam which was filmed in Fatehpur Sikri:
http://www.netflix.com/Movie/Mughal-...9?trkid=188469
He said it was the greatest Indian movie of all times. We’ve watched a colorized version since our return and it certainly meets the first criterion of an Indian blockbuster: it’s very, very long! And not half bad.
Our guide returned to Agra on the bus while we continued on the road to Jaipur. The horror stories of the road between Agra and Jaipur , in particular the report of a motorcyclist lying on the road and the overturned trucks, made me dread this transfer. Since we were in a large Toyota Innova, I wasn’t particularly concerned about our safety but I didn’t want to see all of the accidents involving the more vulnerable modes of transportation. (And it was only in India that I saw so many modes of transportation sharing (or competing on) the same road!) The new road linking Agra and Jaipur was just about complete and we had a fairly smooth and very entertaining road trip. We neither saw nor participated in any accidents. Indian trucks are an art form to themselves. Each one is colorfully decorated by the driver, often featuring creative spelling and grammar: “Beware higily inflammable“. One of our guides commented that drivers decorate their trucks as they do their wives. The number of people that can be squeezed inside and on the top of buses is also astounding.
In Jaipur we stayed for three nights at the Rambagh Palace, one of the Taj “palace hotels.” We had both read Gayatri Devi’s autobiography “A Princess Remembers” and wanted to see “her house.” We were told she was actually in residence somewhere on the sprawling grounds, although we didn’t actually see her we did eat dinner under her watchful portrait in the dining room. The hotel was beautiful and lovingly restored but there were noticeable shortcomings: the facilities book in the room hadn’t been updated and didn’t describe the restaurants that were actually open; the food in the acclaimed Indian restaurant wasn’t out of the ordinary, Bruce accepted their offer of another scoop of plain rice and we were charged $6 for it; we weren’t given a menu for cooked to order breakfast dishes until our third breakfast so we didn’t know that we could order items other than omelets; when we inquired about the possibility of a car and driver for 2 hours in Jaipur we were quoted 2,000 rupees. Obviously none of these issues had any real effect on our stay but we were somewhat disappointed in the overall experience, given the outlandish price. (Don’t miss the free champagne tour of the Palace at 5:30--although you might want to check in advance whether or not you’ve been unlucky enough to arrive on a day when no alcohol is served!)
Our first morning in Jaipur started with the obligatory elephant trek up to the Amber Fort. We weren’t particularly keen on the elephant ride since we had heard that an Italian tourist suffered a broken leg several days ago when two elephants decided to settle a dispute. Enterprising touts tried to sell us turbans for 10 rupees while we waited in line. I imagined the great photos I could take of a turban- bedecked Bruce on elephant back and agreed to the transaction--at that point 10 rupees became 10 dollars and the deal was nixed. Beware of currency switches!
Our ride up to the Fort was anything but relaxing. Our mahout had eyes only for the beautiful blonde American student riding the elephant in front of us. He told us to lean back and the metal bar behind us promptly fell off. Fortunately we didn’t topple with it. As he tried to engage the blonde in conversation, Bruce and I were slipping off our elephant and hitting our long legs on the brick wall next to us. Occasionally he would shout “balance yourself” but that was not something we knew how to do. So slowly and uncomfortably, fearing a fall, we inched our way up, while better balanced elephants gingerly passed us. Once we were close to the end of the journey our mahout’s attention switched to baksheesh and he repeated reminded us that he expected a good tip. Our guide was waiting to help us alight from the elephant. Unfortunately, before we could get off, the elephant quickly swerved and with good force jammed my foot into the brick wall. Jaipur is known for exquisite craftsmanship but I didn’t want to find out if the skills transferred to delicate foot surgery. Fortunately I didn‘t need to find out.
Amber Fort is certainly one of the most glorious forts of Rajasthan and once we alighted from our beast we contentedly followed our guide on a tour of the fort, followed by a tour of the City Palace. It was at the City Palace that the guide received a phone call summoning him to pick up his sick son from school. That left us on our own for the rest of the day. The original plan was for us to visit the bazaar. After lunch at the Rambagh Palace we set out for a shopping expedition with our driver. We had a list of recommended shops from the hotel but the driver had difficulty locating them. We’re poor shoppers to begin with so we returned fairly quickly to the hotel having bought only a duvet cover at some shop recommended by the driver. Dinner and a dance performance were at the hotel.
The next morning we set off for the largest and best preserved of the Jantar Mantar observatories. (We had decided to spend three days in Jaipur so Bruce could examine the instruments unhurriedly with a guide who was knowledgeable about the observatory. ) Bruce and the guide very slowly made their way among the instruments, discussing and photographing each one in great detail as I carried all of the camera equipment and taped the conversation. After countless hours (well maybe 3) it was over and we were ready to continue our exploration of Jaipur. The plan was to go to the cenotaphs outside of Jaipur, have lunch, go to the bazaar and then visit the “Monkey Temple” at sunset when the monkeys were most numerous. However, after the visit to the brooding cenotaphs, we were told that the driver had to leave soon so he could meet us when we flew into Jodhpur the next morning. Since we had specified that we wanted a driver for our third day in Jaipur, we were somewhat annoyed but agreed to an early visit to the Monkey Temple followed by a return to the hotel. I was hoping that we could arrange a driver for the evening at the hotel. The Monkey Temple was interesting but devoid of all but a few monkeys which no doubt diminished its charm.
The Rambagh Palace wanted 2000 rupees for a driver to take us to the bazaar for two hours so we decided to just relax at the hotel. We sat on the lawn and had afternoon tea and watched elephants and camels line up to greet visitors at some private function. Without a car there’s really not much to do around the hotel. We ventured out in search of an ATM but the one we were directed to was empty. I was disappointed not to have had the chance to explore Jaipur’s famous bazaar, although we drove by it several times. I think Bruce was relieved not to have to delve into the bazaar.
Once we inched our way out of Agra, our first stop was Fatehpur Sikri. The guide hired a rickshaw to take us to the main entrance where I sprang for a camcorder permit. I had acquired a camcorder for our trips to Africa where it was a great supplement to Bruce’s camera--a video of mating lions trumps the stills. Since I had the camcorder I decided to let it join us in India. Many of the sites in India that allow cameras without extra charges have camcorder fees, ranging anywhere from 10 rupees to 200 rupees. Although these are small amounts you can’t help but wonder whether it’s going to be worth the effort of obtaining a camcorder pass when chances are excellent that little of interest will be in motion, or if it is it’ll be gone by the time the camcorder is roused. It was in Varanasi that the camera earned its keep capturing the sounds and sights of life along the Ganges. I also managed to get some good clips of a tiger and of Bruce trying to stay on his camel.
Although nothing moved for the camcorder at Fatehpur Sikri I recorded our guide telling the tale of the magical properties of a particular type of tree: you put its leaves in your pocket on the way home and your mother won’t notice that you’re late. Too bad customs doesn’t allow import of plant materials… It was at Fatehpur Sikri that the guide recommended we watch the movie Mughal-e-Azam which was filmed in Fatehpur Sikri:
http://www.netflix.com/Movie/Mughal-...9?trkid=188469
He said it was the greatest Indian movie of all times. We’ve watched a colorized version since our return and it certainly meets the first criterion of an Indian blockbuster: it’s very, very long! And not half bad.
Our guide returned to Agra on the bus while we continued on the road to Jaipur. The horror stories of the road between Agra and Jaipur , in particular the report of a motorcyclist lying on the road and the overturned trucks, made me dread this transfer. Since we were in a large Toyota Innova, I wasn’t particularly concerned about our safety but I didn’t want to see all of the accidents involving the more vulnerable modes of transportation. (And it was only in India that I saw so many modes of transportation sharing (or competing on) the same road!) The new road linking Agra and Jaipur was just about complete and we had a fairly smooth and very entertaining road trip. We neither saw nor participated in any accidents. Indian trucks are an art form to themselves. Each one is colorfully decorated by the driver, often featuring creative spelling and grammar: “Beware higily inflammable“. One of our guides commented that drivers decorate their trucks as they do their wives. The number of people that can be squeezed inside and on the top of buses is also astounding.
In Jaipur we stayed for three nights at the Rambagh Palace, one of the Taj “palace hotels.” We had both read Gayatri Devi’s autobiography “A Princess Remembers” and wanted to see “her house.” We were told she was actually in residence somewhere on the sprawling grounds, although we didn’t actually see her we did eat dinner under her watchful portrait in the dining room. The hotel was beautiful and lovingly restored but there were noticeable shortcomings: the facilities book in the room hadn’t been updated and didn’t describe the restaurants that were actually open; the food in the acclaimed Indian restaurant wasn’t out of the ordinary, Bruce accepted their offer of another scoop of plain rice and we were charged $6 for it; we weren’t given a menu for cooked to order breakfast dishes until our third breakfast so we didn’t know that we could order items other than omelets; when we inquired about the possibility of a car and driver for 2 hours in Jaipur we were quoted 2,000 rupees. Obviously none of these issues had any real effect on our stay but we were somewhat disappointed in the overall experience, given the outlandish price. (Don’t miss the free champagne tour of the Palace at 5:30--although you might want to check in advance whether or not you’ve been unlucky enough to arrive on a day when no alcohol is served!)
Our first morning in Jaipur started with the obligatory elephant trek up to the Amber Fort. We weren’t particularly keen on the elephant ride since we had heard that an Italian tourist suffered a broken leg several days ago when two elephants decided to settle a dispute. Enterprising touts tried to sell us turbans for 10 rupees while we waited in line. I imagined the great photos I could take of a turban- bedecked Bruce on elephant back and agreed to the transaction--at that point 10 rupees became 10 dollars and the deal was nixed. Beware of currency switches!
Our ride up to the Fort was anything but relaxing. Our mahout had eyes only for the beautiful blonde American student riding the elephant in front of us. He told us to lean back and the metal bar behind us promptly fell off. Fortunately we didn’t topple with it. As he tried to engage the blonde in conversation, Bruce and I were slipping off our elephant and hitting our long legs on the brick wall next to us. Occasionally he would shout “balance yourself” but that was not something we knew how to do. So slowly and uncomfortably, fearing a fall, we inched our way up, while better balanced elephants gingerly passed us. Once we were close to the end of the journey our mahout’s attention switched to baksheesh and he repeated reminded us that he expected a good tip. Our guide was waiting to help us alight from the elephant. Unfortunately, before we could get off, the elephant quickly swerved and with good force jammed my foot into the brick wall. Jaipur is known for exquisite craftsmanship but I didn’t want to find out if the skills transferred to delicate foot surgery. Fortunately I didn‘t need to find out.
Amber Fort is certainly one of the most glorious forts of Rajasthan and once we alighted from our beast we contentedly followed our guide on a tour of the fort, followed by a tour of the City Palace. It was at the City Palace that the guide received a phone call summoning him to pick up his sick son from school. That left us on our own for the rest of the day. The original plan was for us to visit the bazaar. After lunch at the Rambagh Palace we set out for a shopping expedition with our driver. We had a list of recommended shops from the hotel but the driver had difficulty locating them. We’re poor shoppers to begin with so we returned fairly quickly to the hotel having bought only a duvet cover at some shop recommended by the driver. Dinner and a dance performance were at the hotel.
The next morning we set off for the largest and best preserved of the Jantar Mantar observatories. (We had decided to spend three days in Jaipur so Bruce could examine the instruments unhurriedly with a guide who was knowledgeable about the observatory. ) Bruce and the guide very slowly made their way among the instruments, discussing and photographing each one in great detail as I carried all of the camera equipment and taped the conversation. After countless hours (well maybe 3) it was over and we were ready to continue our exploration of Jaipur. The plan was to go to the cenotaphs outside of Jaipur, have lunch, go to the bazaar and then visit the “Monkey Temple” at sunset when the monkeys were most numerous. However, after the visit to the brooding cenotaphs, we were told that the driver had to leave soon so he could meet us when we flew into Jodhpur the next morning. Since we had specified that we wanted a driver for our third day in Jaipur, we were somewhat annoyed but agreed to an early visit to the Monkey Temple followed by a return to the hotel. I was hoping that we could arrange a driver for the evening at the hotel. The Monkey Temple was interesting but devoid of all but a few monkeys which no doubt diminished its charm.
The Rambagh Palace wanted 2000 rupees for a driver to take us to the bazaar for two hours so we decided to just relax at the hotel. We sat on the lawn and had afternoon tea and watched elephants and camels line up to greet visitors at some private function. Without a car there’s really not much to do around the hotel. We ventured out in search of an ATM but the one we were directed to was empty. I was disappointed not to have had the chance to explore Jaipur’s famous bazaar, although we drove by it several times. I think Bruce was relieved not to have to delve into the bazaar.
Mar 31st, 2008, 06:47 PM
#47
Thanks for the continuing good detail! Your description of the elephant ride at Amber Fort makes me glad I chose to walk up!! The Rambagh Palace doesn't seem to be that far out, couldn't you have walked to the main road and taken a rickshaw to the old town? I had the best lassi ever there.
Mar 31st, 2008, 07:01 PM
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thanks for these insights....i remember all of this so well...
i guess i would be unhappy with the driver departing....that should have been re-arranged earlier with a replacement for you....
we had good luck with some taxis to do things if we had let our driver leave for the day....
i guess i would be unhappy with the driver departing....that should have been re-arranged earlier with a replacement for you....
we had good luck with some taxis to do things if we had let our driver leave for the day....
Apr 1st, 2008, 09:19 AM
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Thanks for reading! Kathie, I strongly recommend India. Bob and thursdaysd--we really didn't learn how to handle rickshaw drivers. I read a lot about them not taking you where you want to go and was probably focusing too much on it. I also hated the large number of drivers pouncing on us whenever we appeared on the street alone. It wasn't nice and orderly like in China!
Apr 1st, 2008, 11:32 AM
#51
Marija - well if India is one thing, it's certainly chaotic, lol! And I did sometimes find the rickshaw drivers touting for custom truly annoying - especially in Agra. I also had to rediscover the local price (or the foreigner's version of it, lol) every time I changed regions, and in the south, where occasionally a town required meters, I mostly couldn't get the drivers to use them. There were only a couple of times I had the "long way round" problem though - I always had a map with me. The first time I made the driver stop and I got out, the second I caught it earlier and just had him go the right way.
Really enjoying your report - I'm thinking I should start planning to go back to India... But likely back to the south, I didn't make it to Ooty, and then the NY Times had an evocative article on Pondicherry this weekend....
Really enjoying your report - I'm thinking I should start planning to go back to India... But likely back to the south, I didn't make it to Ooty, and then the NY Times had an evocative article on Pondicherry this weekend....
Apr 1st, 2008, 12:05 PM
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Marija, really enjoying your report. Based on our dinner at the Rambagh Palace I am not surprised that staying there was an underwhelming experience. I think the driver situation is common - they will attempt to get away with whatever they can unfortunately - missing out on sites should not be an option. We did not do the elephant ride up to the Amber Fort but rather we were driven up and did the ride down - much better - no lines and a relaxing trip. In Delhi we were not impressed with the Park but it would probably be ok in a pinch.
Apr 1st, 2008, 05:36 PM
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JODHPUR
After a leisurely breakfast and review of the horoscope that the Rambagh’s resident astrologer had produced for Bruce, we set off for Jodhpur. I wish Bruce hadn’t commissioned another chart but just focused on the predictions from the Varanasi astrologer: healthy life until age 94 and then a quick death while drinking tea…
In Jodhpur we stayed at the Taj Hari Mahal, a sprawling, very friendly hotel. We went to a free cultural performance one evening and it was such a welcome change to be the only foreigners in the crowd of Indian families. We were intrigued by the custom of people pointing at a particularly performer who would then come over and be given money. Bruce quickly adapted and started pointing at the beautiful Indian dancers who were happy to take his money. There was audience participation as well with people joining in the dances. (Bruce declined to participate since it brought back painful memories of joining Lithuanian folk dancers who issued instructions in a language he couldn’t understand.)
The next day after lunch (note we never skip meals!) we met our guide who took us to the Jodhpur bazaar around the clock tower, which seemed to specialize in merchandise for locals. Our next stop was Maharani Arts Emporium, not too far from the clock tower. It purports to be a renowned outlet for designer goods at greatly reduced prices. Did we know that the owner of Harrods had just been there and bought 60 Gucci bed throws for his dearest friends? Had we read the article in a London paper (which they eventually did produce for our reading pleasure) celebrating their wares? No, but boston harbor on fodors said it was a great deal… The salesman was really very good and we bought way more stuff than we probably should have. Fortunately we are suffering no buyers’ remorse and are happy with what we bought -- though I’m not totally convinced it was fabricated for Gucci, Kenzo and Loro Piano. (Our new acquisitions join the Italian dishes that we bought in Ravello and which the saleslady assured us were the very pattern Dustin Hoffman had bought several days earlier. Well, maybe!)
The next morning we headed off for the cenotaphs and the Meherangarh Fort, an awesome sight from below and probably the only fort in Rajasthan with an elevator to the top. We had seen several remarkable cenotaphs already so we were getting more difficult to impress. Nonetheless the cenotaphs were worth a visit and are certainly much more elaborate than anything that will mark our final resting places. (After the Maharani Arts emporium purchases we may end up in a communal grave somewhere.) The Fort is remarkably well preserved with many fascinating museums embedded within it as well as the coronation chair of the Maharajas of Jodhpur. The tour ended with a visit to the museum shop where “artists” attempted to sell us miniature paintings. They were beautiful and I was tempted by a painting of a tiger but decided to pass on it, despite cascading price reductions. The artist nearly burst into tears as we walked away.
What we were really in the market for was a wood carving of our favorite deity--Ganesha, the god with the elephant head, the remover of all obstacles and Bruce’s deity according to the Varanasi astrologer. We were taken to a large warehouse owned by Maharani Arts Exporters, part of the Maharani Arts empire. They deal in not very old antiques, whatever that means. After wandering through many rooms admiring all kinds of sculptures, tapestries and “stuff” we settled on a fairly large wooden Ganesha carving which is destined to remove all obstacles from our home. The salesman assured us they would pack it well and ship to the USA, insured. While Bruce took care of the Ganesha transaction, I wandered some more and discovered some small camel bone carvings of elephants and camels, as well as a camel bone sculpture of the very same Ganesha. If one is good two must be better! The little carvings would make excellent gifts, so we selected 9 of them. We bargained hard for the larger carving and struck a deal, again being assured that all would be packed, shipped and insured. Unfortunately, except for the large wooden Ganesha, and two of the small carvings, everything arrived broken, thrown unprotected into a single large box. I can’t file an insurance claim, that has to be initiated by the shipper. My repeated attempts to contact Maharani Art Exporters have not been successful, so I’ve turned the entire matter over to the credit card company. I am confident that Ganesha will remove all obstacles associated with these transactions! The large wooden Ganesha hangs prominently by our front door, over offerings of rice and flower petals. Our next stop, appropriately, was an ATM, but it was not in service since there are always rolling blackouts in Jodhpur throughout the day and we were in an outage area at the time.
Dinner that night was at the Umaid Bhawan Palace Hotel, a massive former maharaja’s palace (built in the mid-20th century as a sort of public works project) that overlooks Jodhpur--the top place to stay in town. Despite a missing reservation, which was made by an intermediary so who knows if it was really made, they were able to take us. Our first stop was the bar where we had drinks surrounded by the standard maharaja stuffed-animal décor. Before our trips to Africa I would have probably considered it atmospheric but now I view it as barbaric. Dinner was at the outdoor restaurant overlooking the garden. The weather was unseasonably cold (so we were told) and dining al fresco, the only option, really was uncomfortably chilly. We noticed that there were two heat lamps and asked to be seated close to them. Our request was denied since the heat lamps were “reserved,” presumably for residents of the Umaid Bhawan. They were the only source of warmth other than shawls (which were provided upon request, and were welcome). There were no other heating devices, unlike at the Oberoi in Udaivilas where heat sources were everywhere and a major danger was premature cremation. I don’t remember what we ate, I just know it was expensive and not all that memorable. The service matched the temperature. After our visit to the famous Jodhpur palace we were happy that we were staying at the Taj Hari Mahal, a hotel more to our liking.
After a leisurely breakfast and review of the horoscope that the Rambagh’s resident astrologer had produced for Bruce, we set off for Jodhpur. I wish Bruce hadn’t commissioned another chart but just focused on the predictions from the Varanasi astrologer: healthy life until age 94 and then a quick death while drinking tea…
In Jodhpur we stayed at the Taj Hari Mahal, a sprawling, very friendly hotel. We went to a free cultural performance one evening and it was such a welcome change to be the only foreigners in the crowd of Indian families. We were intrigued by the custom of people pointing at a particularly performer who would then come over and be given money. Bruce quickly adapted and started pointing at the beautiful Indian dancers who were happy to take his money. There was audience participation as well with people joining in the dances. (Bruce declined to participate since it brought back painful memories of joining Lithuanian folk dancers who issued instructions in a language he couldn’t understand.)
The next day after lunch (note we never skip meals!) we met our guide who took us to the Jodhpur bazaar around the clock tower, which seemed to specialize in merchandise for locals. Our next stop was Maharani Arts Emporium, not too far from the clock tower. It purports to be a renowned outlet for designer goods at greatly reduced prices. Did we know that the owner of Harrods had just been there and bought 60 Gucci bed throws for his dearest friends? Had we read the article in a London paper (which they eventually did produce for our reading pleasure) celebrating their wares? No, but boston harbor on fodors said it was a great deal… The salesman was really very good and we bought way more stuff than we probably should have. Fortunately we are suffering no buyers’ remorse and are happy with what we bought -- though I’m not totally convinced it was fabricated for Gucci, Kenzo and Loro Piano. (Our new acquisitions join the Italian dishes that we bought in Ravello and which the saleslady assured us were the very pattern Dustin Hoffman had bought several days earlier. Well, maybe!)
The next morning we headed off for the cenotaphs and the Meherangarh Fort, an awesome sight from below and probably the only fort in Rajasthan with an elevator to the top. We had seen several remarkable cenotaphs already so we were getting more difficult to impress. Nonetheless the cenotaphs were worth a visit and are certainly much more elaborate than anything that will mark our final resting places. (After the Maharani Arts emporium purchases we may end up in a communal grave somewhere.) The Fort is remarkably well preserved with many fascinating museums embedded within it as well as the coronation chair of the Maharajas of Jodhpur. The tour ended with a visit to the museum shop where “artists” attempted to sell us miniature paintings. They were beautiful and I was tempted by a painting of a tiger but decided to pass on it, despite cascading price reductions. The artist nearly burst into tears as we walked away.
What we were really in the market for was a wood carving of our favorite deity--Ganesha, the god with the elephant head, the remover of all obstacles and Bruce’s deity according to the Varanasi astrologer. We were taken to a large warehouse owned by Maharani Arts Exporters, part of the Maharani Arts empire. They deal in not very old antiques, whatever that means. After wandering through many rooms admiring all kinds of sculptures, tapestries and “stuff” we settled on a fairly large wooden Ganesha carving which is destined to remove all obstacles from our home. The salesman assured us they would pack it well and ship to the USA, insured. While Bruce took care of the Ganesha transaction, I wandered some more and discovered some small camel bone carvings of elephants and camels, as well as a camel bone sculpture of the very same Ganesha. If one is good two must be better! The little carvings would make excellent gifts, so we selected 9 of them. We bargained hard for the larger carving and struck a deal, again being assured that all would be packed, shipped and insured. Unfortunately, except for the large wooden Ganesha, and two of the small carvings, everything arrived broken, thrown unprotected into a single large box. I can’t file an insurance claim, that has to be initiated by the shipper. My repeated attempts to contact Maharani Art Exporters have not been successful, so I’ve turned the entire matter over to the credit card company. I am confident that Ganesha will remove all obstacles associated with these transactions! The large wooden Ganesha hangs prominently by our front door, over offerings of rice and flower petals. Our next stop, appropriately, was an ATM, but it was not in service since there are always rolling blackouts in Jodhpur throughout the day and we were in an outage area at the time.
Dinner that night was at the Umaid Bhawan Palace Hotel, a massive former maharaja’s palace (built in the mid-20th century as a sort of public works project) that overlooks Jodhpur--the top place to stay in town. Despite a missing reservation, which was made by an intermediary so who knows if it was really made, they were able to take us. Our first stop was the bar where we had drinks surrounded by the standard maharaja stuffed-animal décor. Before our trips to Africa I would have probably considered it atmospheric but now I view it as barbaric. Dinner was at the outdoor restaurant overlooking the garden. The weather was unseasonably cold (so we were told) and dining al fresco, the only option, really was uncomfortably chilly. We noticed that there were two heat lamps and asked to be seated close to them. Our request was denied since the heat lamps were “reserved,” presumably for residents of the Umaid Bhawan. They were the only source of warmth other than shawls (which were provided upon request, and were welcome). There were no other heating devices, unlike at the Oberoi in Udaivilas where heat sources were everywhere and a major danger was premature cremation. I don’t remember what we ate, I just know it was expensive and not all that memorable. The service matched the temperature. After our visit to the famous Jodhpur palace we were happy that we were staying at the Taj Hari Mahal, a hotel more to our liking.
Apr 7th, 2008, 11:38 AM
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JAISALMER
The 50 minute Kingfisher flight from Jodhpur to Jaisalmer left 20 minutes early with only 7 people onboard. This was a brand new route that Kingfisher just started flying. Jaisalmer has large military installations (it’s only 50 miles or so from the Pakistan border) and security was incredibly tight. We walked from the airplane to a bus and then took a 10 minute bus road to the tiny terminal outside of which our greeter and driver were waiting. Before we could leave the airport we had to pay a small visitor’s fee somewhere in the neighborhood of 100 rupees. That was the only unexpected charge we encountered during the entire trip.
Jaisalmer is an impossibly intricate sandcastle standing on a hill. Again we were tempted to try to stay within the walls of the city but the ecological arguments and lack of decent hotels dissuaded us. We ended up about 10 minutes by car from the city at the Fort Rajwada hotel. (The Taj was unavailable.) At the time we booked the hotel the reviews on tripadvisor were unenthusiastic at best and we were a bit concerned about what we would find. The hotel was certainly adequate with a lot of emphasis on ostentatious common areas. They even had a balcony from an old haveli built in the wall underneath which staff would welcome guests by writing their names in sand. We never did get to see our name in sand. The hotel has a pool which was closed for remodeling. We wouldn’t have used it anyway but we did sit around the empty pool watching the comic routine of 6 men, some in white shirts and ties, scrubbing the pool. The weather was considerably warmer in Jaisalmer than it had been elsewhere so we enjoyed eating outside, overlooking the activity.
In the late afternoon we met our guide and headed off for sunset in the desert, stopping to admire the lake outside of town. It was a good half hour drive to the staging area for the camels. We made sure to wear our warm garb since I had read that deserts get cold in the evening. I was wrong since the desert chill never materialized and instead we risked heatstroke in our fleece. But that was the least of our problems.
We arrived at a large football field covered with colorfully attired resting camels and were quickly turned over to two young men and their camels, which were named Babaloo and Laloo. After our experience with elephants in Jaipur, I wasn’t enamored with the idea of pushing our luck by riding camels but it seemed like a lot of trouble to back out at this point. Bruce mounted Babaloo while I devotedly filmed his bravery, noting apprehensively how high up you are on camel back and what a nasty tumble down it would be. Once Bruce was onboard I stuck the camcorder in my pocket and made it up without incident.
I will not try to describe the varied and expressive sound effects that accompany a camel ride. My camel was led by a school boy who tried to impress me with how hard he works at school all day and then has to spend evenings contending with tourists and camels. He was a slick little operator and chatted about how much he like Americans since they help him so much by giving generous tips. As we bounced along assorted agents tried to sell water, soft drinks and snacks, encouraging the tourists to buy for their guides who of course didn’t want chips but wanted money.
I was tolerating the camel ride well and enjoyed seeing all the crazy tourists on their beasts. Then I heard a shout from behind me. Bruce wasn’t quite the accomplished camelestrian that I was--he was slipping off his camel and barely hanging on. My guide ran over to assist Bruce’s guide and they managed to get him off in one piece. At this point I was insistent that we give it up but Bruce refused. Since my camel was standing quietly, at least at the beginning, I was able to whip out the trusty camcorder and continue recording the what might be the last moments of Bruce‘s life. The initial diagnosis was that the saddle was not positioned tightly enough. They repositioned the saddled and hoisted him up again. Unfortunately he was still having a difficult time staying onboard until they offered him “stirrups” (fabric loops for the feet, which they had inexplicably failed to provide him at first). Those solved the problem. While they were tinkering with Bruce my camel got bored and started up again, necessitating another rescue operation. We were relieved when we finally rejoiced the well populated sunset viewing area. Many entrepreneurs inhabit the desert at sunset: singing gypsies, dancing children, tube-tooting locals, and of course the snack vendors.
After a couple of shots of our noble camels resting we followed their lead and plopped down on a sand dune. Nobody bothered the camels but we were repeatedly encouraged to pay someone to do something. I finally paid a man playing some kind of wind instrument since I thought it would make for good video, especially if I could avoid filming the other tourists. Shortly after sunset we again reunited with our camels and made our way to the parking lot. Once again Bruce spurned my suggestion that we walk our camels instead of risking our fragile lives…
The 50 minute Kingfisher flight from Jodhpur to Jaisalmer left 20 minutes early with only 7 people onboard. This was a brand new route that Kingfisher just started flying. Jaisalmer has large military installations (it’s only 50 miles or so from the Pakistan border) and security was incredibly tight. We walked from the airplane to a bus and then took a 10 minute bus road to the tiny terminal outside of which our greeter and driver were waiting. Before we could leave the airport we had to pay a small visitor’s fee somewhere in the neighborhood of 100 rupees. That was the only unexpected charge we encountered during the entire trip.
Jaisalmer is an impossibly intricate sandcastle standing on a hill. Again we were tempted to try to stay within the walls of the city but the ecological arguments and lack of decent hotels dissuaded us. We ended up about 10 minutes by car from the city at the Fort Rajwada hotel. (The Taj was unavailable.) At the time we booked the hotel the reviews on tripadvisor were unenthusiastic at best and we were a bit concerned about what we would find. The hotel was certainly adequate with a lot of emphasis on ostentatious common areas. They even had a balcony from an old haveli built in the wall underneath which staff would welcome guests by writing their names in sand. We never did get to see our name in sand. The hotel has a pool which was closed for remodeling. We wouldn’t have used it anyway but we did sit around the empty pool watching the comic routine of 6 men, some in white shirts and ties, scrubbing the pool. The weather was considerably warmer in Jaisalmer than it had been elsewhere so we enjoyed eating outside, overlooking the activity.
In the late afternoon we met our guide and headed off for sunset in the desert, stopping to admire the lake outside of town. It was a good half hour drive to the staging area for the camels. We made sure to wear our warm garb since I had read that deserts get cold in the evening. I was wrong since the desert chill never materialized and instead we risked heatstroke in our fleece. But that was the least of our problems.
We arrived at a large football field covered with colorfully attired resting camels and were quickly turned over to two young men and their camels, which were named Babaloo and Laloo. After our experience with elephants in Jaipur, I wasn’t enamored with the idea of pushing our luck by riding camels but it seemed like a lot of trouble to back out at this point. Bruce mounted Babaloo while I devotedly filmed his bravery, noting apprehensively how high up you are on camel back and what a nasty tumble down it would be. Once Bruce was onboard I stuck the camcorder in my pocket and made it up without incident.
I will not try to describe the varied and expressive sound effects that accompany a camel ride. My camel was led by a school boy who tried to impress me with how hard he works at school all day and then has to spend evenings contending with tourists and camels. He was a slick little operator and chatted about how much he like Americans since they help him so much by giving generous tips. As we bounced along assorted agents tried to sell water, soft drinks and snacks, encouraging the tourists to buy for their guides who of course didn’t want chips but wanted money.
I was tolerating the camel ride well and enjoyed seeing all the crazy tourists on their beasts. Then I heard a shout from behind me. Bruce wasn’t quite the accomplished camelestrian that I was--he was slipping off his camel and barely hanging on. My guide ran over to assist Bruce’s guide and they managed to get him off in one piece. At this point I was insistent that we give it up but Bruce refused. Since my camel was standing quietly, at least at the beginning, I was able to whip out the trusty camcorder and continue recording the what might be the last moments of Bruce‘s life. The initial diagnosis was that the saddle was not positioned tightly enough. They repositioned the saddled and hoisted him up again. Unfortunately he was still having a difficult time staying onboard until they offered him “stirrups” (fabric loops for the feet, which they had inexplicably failed to provide him at first). Those solved the problem. While they were tinkering with Bruce my camel got bored and started up again, necessitating another rescue operation. We were relieved when we finally rejoiced the well populated sunset viewing area. Many entrepreneurs inhabit the desert at sunset: singing gypsies, dancing children, tube-tooting locals, and of course the snack vendors.
After a couple of shots of our noble camels resting we followed their lead and plopped down on a sand dune. Nobody bothered the camels but we were repeatedly encouraged to pay someone to do something. I finally paid a man playing some kind of wind instrument since I thought it would make for good video, especially if I could avoid filming the other tourists. Shortly after sunset we again reunited with our camels and made our way to the parking lot. Once again Bruce spurned my suggestion that we walk our camels instead of risking our fragile lives…
Apr 15th, 2008, 05:28 PM
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Jaisalmer: Day 2
After breakfast, before starting out on our tour of Jaisalmer proper, we realized that the camel ride had been too much for the camcorder which would no longer accept tapes. At least we had the video of our desert escapade.
Jaisalmer is a wondrous sand castle, with amazing temples scattered about. We diligently followed our guide through the narrow streets, always ceding right of way to the numerous cows. Unlike the forts of Jaipur and Jodhpur, Jaisalmer’s Golden Fort is inhabited both with locals and tourists. The temples were very crowded and dark, even with flashlights, but amazing nonetheless. The carved sandstone balconies on the havelis are exquisite. We ended our morning walk at the market which is set up in front of the local Bhang shop.
We were dropped off at the hotel for lunch and a rest before our late afternoon tour. We were aware that our trip was coming to an end (in 4 more days) and we were short on gifts, so we asked to be taken to Rajthali, the government sponsored emporium, where we bought a 6 pack of Ganesh statues for 700 rupees. The store was very poorly stocked and the salesman was unwilling to sell individual statues, you had to buy the whole box.
After our meager shopping expedition, our guide took us on a stroll through the residential streets of Jaisalmer. That was one of the most pleasant experiences of our trip. Nobody tried to sell us anything, nobody harassed us, we just gingerly followed the strolling cows, careful not to step in their footsteps. We were approached by children and adults who wanted us to take their pictures so that they could view the images in the screen. One man asked us to send him the photos and ,upon our return ,we sent him copies of all of the photos we had taken of him and his mother as well as the children on the street. We hope he recognized everyone and distributed the photos. The guide took us to a viewing spot to watch sunset over Jaisalmer but we were a little too late getting there. The sun doesn’t wait for tourists…
Jaisalmer was definitely an interesting detour and we’re glad we added it to our already crowded itinerary. Since there are flights from Jaipur and Jodhpur it isn’t as out of the way as it used to be.
After breakfast, before starting out on our tour of Jaisalmer proper, we realized that the camel ride had been too much for the camcorder which would no longer accept tapes. At least we had the video of our desert escapade.
Jaisalmer is a wondrous sand castle, with amazing temples scattered about. We diligently followed our guide through the narrow streets, always ceding right of way to the numerous cows. Unlike the forts of Jaipur and Jodhpur, Jaisalmer’s Golden Fort is inhabited both with locals and tourists. The temples were very crowded and dark, even with flashlights, but amazing nonetheless. The carved sandstone balconies on the havelis are exquisite. We ended our morning walk at the market which is set up in front of the local Bhang shop.
We were dropped off at the hotel for lunch and a rest before our late afternoon tour. We were aware that our trip was coming to an end (in 4 more days) and we were short on gifts, so we asked to be taken to Rajthali, the government sponsored emporium, where we bought a 6 pack of Ganesh statues for 700 rupees. The store was very poorly stocked and the salesman was unwilling to sell individual statues, you had to buy the whole box.
After our meager shopping expedition, our guide took us on a stroll through the residential streets of Jaisalmer. That was one of the most pleasant experiences of our trip. Nobody tried to sell us anything, nobody harassed us, we just gingerly followed the strolling cows, careful not to step in their footsteps. We were approached by children and adults who wanted us to take their pictures so that they could view the images in the screen. One man asked us to send him the photos and ,upon our return ,we sent him copies of all of the photos we had taken of him and his mother as well as the children on the street. We hope he recognized everyone and distributed the photos. The guide took us to a viewing spot to watch sunset over Jaisalmer but we were a little too late getting there. The sun doesn’t wait for tourists…
Jaisalmer was definitely an interesting detour and we’re glad we added it to our already crowded itinerary. Since there are flights from Jaipur and Jodhpur it isn’t as out of the way as it used to be.
