Things went up - or downhill from there - depending on your state of mind.

One day I'll tell you. Gotta go.

Ah yes, the Udaipur Jimmies. I remember them well. But it is too bad the Lake is so low; that is disappointing. We used Udaipur just to kick back and relax. Yeah, its 100% tourist, and you can 'do' those sites, but I found it a fair place to de-stress a bit. "Fading royalty" -- great phrase. I am looking forward to your, no-doubt, fascinating and entertaining stories. True Life! And speaking of true -- those were words of truth -- "You are a lucky man, sir. . ."

Relax. Soon you'll set sail on the Good Ship Lollipop and be bored out of your mind.

Look forward to the day you do tell us - your stories are always great after you've mulled them over for a bit.

Enjoy being a tourist - it will make a change for you! Maybe you'll even get use to hot water again. Dogster's Indian shower does conjure up rather difficult images - and its after dinner and a skin full of wine for me!!!!

So glad to have you back with us.

Dogster, these are called "bucket baths". You are supposed to be given TWO buckets of water. One cold and the other hot. You mix the cold into the hot until you like the temperature and use the right temperature water to rinse yourself.

They should also give you a stool or plastic chair - no need to squat and balance all on your own!

Next bath, tell them you need the hot water bucket too - "garam pani bucket" - but watch out the hot water can be scalding if they heated it over the stove or fire.

Thanks for the brief update. Take your time to digest all of these experiences and we'll await more tales from the dogster.

Feels and reads like a new age Odyssey. I doubt that the Greeks had beer either. If they encountered Deepak I wonder if they would have ever made it back. .
Ive taken quite a few bucket baths over there. Hey, it does the job.

I seem to be out of the strangeness and back in Jimmy hell. I'd forgotten just how good these guys are. Man, they can lie brilliantly. I spent my life as a B.S. Artiste and these guys can fool even me. But they pass the time. Ain't nuttin' else to do - like trav, I just need to chill.

But rub a Jimmy up the wrong way and they turn savage. Every week, every month the Jimmys pay off the police. For a Jimmy in a rickshaw it's 1000 rupees a month - for a street Jimmy it's 150 a week, for a beggar Jimmy its 10 rupees a day. For the smooth, slicked, beringed, bejewelled, priapic Jimmys
on their motor bikes I dunno - but they clearly have enough dough to bribe anybody. So, if you're a tourist in a bit of Jimmy trouble don't even think about calling the police - they'll already be on their way - courtesy a quick call from the rogue Jimmy himself.

I know that in a previous post I talked about those Jimmys who prey on women of certain years. I think it was probably the story that shocked more of you than the rest. But I have to report that the phenomenon is alive and well in Udaipur. These guys would screw anybody for a buck. Carnivorous to the extreme.

Luckily I know when to walk away, blow my dough and learn, once again, that there's no fool like an old fool. That's O.K. I've already proved that to myself a hundred times.

Back later. I have to disinfect my face and wash out my eyes. Yup, I've been off shaving. Slop, goes the face cream, scrub and squish and squeeze... one thousand Udaipur germs are crawling over my face. Germmys. Jimlets. Death on the tip of the barbers fingers...

If my head is still attached to my shoulders later on today I'll check in.

Is that Pichola Lake that is almost dried up? The one with the Lake Palace sitting in it?

It's OK dog, we've all been fools at times -- I know I have, over and over again. Somehow I keep having to relearn that lesson, too -- but aren't we blessed to be able to afford it without too much collateral damage? Those Jimmys are soooo good - it never ceases to amaze me. Carnivorous -- yup -- its a dog eat dog world, ain't it?!

A new day is dawning in Udaipur and Dogster hasn't returned. Has Dogster really lost his head?!

A million things have happened since I last posted - if I could just remember what they are. No, no charas, hardly even a dog-full of beer - just the same, a bewildering amount of material for Dog to digest.

It's the small things - oh, I do seem to remember a kinda large, kinda colorful festival last night - Gangaur, what ever that is. It may once have been a real Indian festival - but somewhere, somehow, the Great Rajasthan God of Tourism thundered in and turned it into a multi-coloured ersatz bombardment of sound and fury signifying absolutely nothing at all.

I rather enjoyed myself.

If I turned my back on the woeful amateurish dancing, blocked my bleeding ears and took pictures of the crowd, colorfully, calculatedly brought in and posed in neat colorful rows by the GRG of T, if I ignored the extreme artifice of the event and took my extremely artificial pictures [of which I took many], if I hadn't been to rather a few REAL festivals, I might, just for a minute believe I was in India. It certainly was everything a tourist would want.

I think my head did fall from my shoulders last night.

It's 6.30 and the festival is on again. Only tonight there are about 1,000 policement, 500 tourists and 200 colorfully dressed ladies with statues on their heads, dancing badly, posing artlessly for the cameras.

I must rush back - there a competition for the best dressed foreigner in Indian dress. I don't want to miss that.

Later.

Are you competing?

An Indian Truman Show. Ha! Reminds me of Choki Dhani in Jaipur -- another GRG of T operation. Never mind. Have fun!

I won, Marija.

Except it was the wrong competition. I accepted the award for the Biggest Fool in Rajasthan. There was some heavy competition out there tonight... but, true to form, Dogster won the day.

How did I do it? Time will tell. My trophy was a dose of the horrors, a smack in the snout and a dollop of secret humiliation. Not bad for a night's work.

Well, not a real smack - just one of those moments of tragic realization that only an old dog can have. It felt like a smack, just the same. My eyes have gone dead.

The second night of the Gangaur Festival was much, much more tragic than the first. Horrible. A tragic photo opportunity for tourists. Rows and rows of beauitifully, colorfully dressed ladies, bused in, like extras in a cheap Bollywood movie - marshalled into position by unsmiling policewomen, sitting, waiting for their pictures to be taken. A bit of a pray, a bit of a sing, then marshalled out again.

Of course, back in Germany, Italy, Australia, Canada, Ireland, Scotland, et al - those staged photos will look just great. Just like mine will. Perfect light, just as the sun goes down, amber wash over purple, orange, pink, blue saris, silver jewellery glinting in the sweet, somewhat smelly Udaipur air.

Yes, Jaya, that would be Lake Pichola, the one with the Taj floating gently in the mud. Yes, Yaya, that would be Lake Pichola, the one breeding one million mosquitoes a night. Yes Jaya, that would be Lake Pichola, the one with the green stinking scum turning a fetid purple as the sun sinks over the castle walls of Udaipur. Yes, Yaya - yes.

But in those photos from the rooftop restaurant, in the gaze of the thousand tourist eyes all that will be forgotten. There's just enough water for the boats to ply across the specially dug channel to and from the Taj, just enough water to reflect the twinkling lights of Udaipur - just not enough, unfortunately, to reflect the gormless stupidity of some of the camera wielding fools who troop in groups having their ersatz Indian experience de Rajasthan.

I've turned rancid. Forgive me. I'm a bitter old fool who doesn't know better. Don't listen to a word I say. Wait till I explain all this properly. Don't cancel me out just yet. I know you all had a GREAT time in Udaipur. I bet you saw a lot more than me... but I bet you didn't meet the Udaipur Mafia; Lal Garh Sub-Branch.

You think I'm joking.

I'm not.

[Just a little bit housekeeping: MaryW and Marija - I know you've worked it out... you know what I mean. Good sleuthing. But, no more clues, eh?]

We were told the Lake dried up 4-5 years ago -- guests had to be driven out to the Lake Palace by luxury cars -- which sent the tourist industrial complex into a panic. The Jimmys must have been driven out of their skulls. After many a pooja and petitions to the gods, it was only after a copious monsoon season that the Lake was replenished and re-filled. Apparently, there is a huge problem keeping the lake catchment system filled because of nearby deforestation, mining operations (which use a ton of water) and an increase in water usage as Udaipurians are installing western-style toilets, showers and washing machines -- local authorities are pumping the water out of the lake to meet local water consumption demand. The descendant of the Maharana, who owns a couple of hotels over at the City Palace etc., has been trying to get the government to address the situation, and it sounds like that hasn't happened as of yet. Sounds to me like the GRG of T needs to thunder into THAT situation, instead of taking over local festivals and turning them into pathetic photo opps.

Based on your report dog, I now think we got REALLY lucky in Udaipur. The city was bereft of tourist groups when we were there, as it was just a couple of weeks post 26/11 -- in fact, the locals were complaining that the big tourist groups had all cancelled -- the Taj had scores of empty rooms. That probably contributed to our ability to enjoy the city (in spite of the Jimmys who appeared in our path at every turn). I am generally a patient and flexible person when traveling, but camera-wielding groups of tourists who run you down en masse to get whatever piece of the action to which they think they are entitled drive me absolutely insane -- to the point where my head starts exploding, which can be very messy if you are a bystander. Now I feel blessed that we were spared the "full" Udaipur experience!

Will you be joining everyone in Bangkok, Dogster?

Good to know there is yet another mosquito breeding ground! Wouldn't want the national insect of India to go extinct.

P.S. At the risk of sounding really dumb, I have to ask a question among friends here...what exactly is a Jimmy???

I thought a Jimmy was a hand-job