Good Horn, Good Brakes, Good Luck - Namaste!

The first thing you notice about India is the constant honking of the traffic.  There is a sort of organized chaos about it all - brinkmanship is taken to the nth degree and marked lanes don’t mean much.  In spite of the onslaught it all seems to work. As several of our drivers remarked, all you need to drive in India is a good horn, good brakes and good luck.

Mess of overhead wires crisscross
 the narrow streets of Old Delhi

A ride on the metro to Old Delhi
and a transfer to more traditional
transportation 

It had been 15 years since our last visit to India and how it had changed.  Delhi has a modern airport, improved highways and a brand new metro - probably helped along by their hosting of the Commonwealth Games. Despite all the bad press about India's readiness to host that event, the legacy was obvious.

From the old to the new - Delhi's
spanking brand new Metro system

We had chosen to start our stay in India at the Delhi Oberoi where we had stayed 15 years earlier. The Oberoi was as we remembered it - comfortable and welcoming - but with some changes.  Gone were the turban clad, white gloved waiters. An army of Bollywood lookalikes, clad in shockingly white modern uniforms graced the restaurant. The main restaurant was a study in marble minimalism - the sushi bar alongside a glassed in wine room and tandoor oven with new age music replacing more traditional musical strains.

Recuperation after
22 hours in the air

A mixture of tourists, Lagerfeld fashion types (it was India Fashion week) and European businessmen filled the restaurant.

Outside, the swimming pool we remembered is now there purely for decoration - a new infinity pool and gardens in the hotel grounds provided a welcome spot to relax that first day, along of course with a refreshing Mango and Black Pepper smoothie.

We would begin our adventure with a short flight from Delhi to Varanasi to visit the Ghats alongside the River Ganges. Returning to Delhi we would embark on a 3000 kilometer road trip through Rajasthan, the Indian desert state famed for its forts, palaces and temples.  Namaste! 

The Burning Ghats of Varanasi

Preparing to float candles on the River Ganges

The tranquility one finds amongst the colour and ritual of Varanasi cannot be described.  It has to be experienced. We'd read about the cremation sites, the bathing rituals and the scattering of ashes, but until it is witnessed first hand, it's simply words. We arrived in Kashi, the heart and soul of Varanasi as darkness was falling.  Kashi isn’t a place, it’s a powerful experience that if you are lucky you will take away with you.  

Receiving a blessing

We walked the narrow, winding labrynths of shops and homes, dodging people, motorcycles, rickshaws, tuk tuks and cows. Around one final corner we caught our first glimpse of the Ganga Ji - the venerable River Ganges.  Walking down a steep embankment the eclectic buildings lining the meandering river came into view.  Former palaces and ashrams, hospices and accommodations for pilgrims.  In the midst of it all the Ghats, the stone stairways that sweep down to the water's edge.

The main cremation Ghat

From a small rowing boat we glided downriver to the main cremation site. We were in complete darkness. Male family members brought the corpses of their loved ones wrapped in colourful orange and gold shrouds down to the cremation site on bamboo stretchers.  The shroud was removed to reveal white swaddling, the body bathed in the water then placed on a funeral pyre seasoned with essential oils and sometimes sandlewood.  The body is often rubbed with butter, with more butter placed on the pyre before a torch taken from the eternal flame burning at the cremation site ignites the pyre.  Cremations go on 24 hours a day, the ashes scattered on the holy waters of the Ganges.

A handful of floating candles
joins the thousands in the water

Small candles surrounded by roses and marigolds were lit by everyone participating in the ceremony - actual participants or onlookers who had purchased them from the many vendors on the Ghats. The candles were floated on the river and before long a flotilla of candles trailed in the water providing beautiful reflecting illumination.

The ceremony of
"putting the river to sleep"

Each evening a thanksgiving festival is performed by pilgrims on the river bank with music, bells and candles. Incense perfumes the air and a bed of flowers colours the ground on which the performers stand.

As the evening’s activities drew to a close we made our way back through the town to our vehicle on a bicycle rickshaw.  Not designed for us, we squeezed ourselves into the contraption and an enthusiastic “driver” made his way methodically through the chaos.  Horns honked loudly, motorcycles aggressively forced the point, but we continued on - the only vulnerable time when we entered a small roundabout and all traffic converged, competing for every inch of the torn up road. All body parts were firmed tucked inside the rickshaw as we were distracted by a cow sitting inside a sari shop. 

Sunrise over the River Ganges

Next morning we rose before daybreak to experience sunrise over the river.  It was a lot quieter and considerably cooler. 


The city was slowly coming to life.  


Occasionally we'd hear the ringing of finger cymbals played by pilgrims as they walked through the town to the Ghats - the music intended to encourage others to join them in the waters.

The river awakens

Bathing in the river from the Ghats

On the Ghats men squatted to receive a shave before taking to the waters.  Those who had come to scatter ashes had their heads shaved completely before entering the water with the remains of their loved ones.  


But most were here to greet the sunrise.  It was spectacular - the golden light intensifying the colourful buildings and providing impressive reflections in the river.

An early morning shave

Dhobie whalahs arrange laundry to
dry in neat rows on the Ghats

The cremations continued, the dhobie whalahs lined the water’s edge to start their daily labour, thrashing the river-soaked garments against the rocks.  Sheets were neatly laid out to dry on the ground next to perfectly stacked rounds of dried cow dung patties. Trousers of every size and colour hung on washing lines, static as they awaited the first breath of wind.

Close to the river bank we observed a family preparing the corpse of a loved one.  The peaceful face was visible in the white swaddling. The family proceeded with the ritual, setting the pyre alight.

Another day in a cycle that has transcended the ages. It had been a profound experience.

South to Rajasthan - Cars, Chaos and Camels

"Horn Please" 

After a day back in Delhi touring magnificent ancient monuments, riding in style through the narrow streets of Old Delhi via bicycle rickshaw and experiencing the city’s brand new metro system we headed south to Mandawa.

Fresh vegetable stall in Mandawa

Passing through the chaos of the toll booths we saw the call centre phenomenon first hand - a whole district catering to a multitude of foreign corporations.  The highway was under various stages of construction, in fact all over greater Delhi massive infrastructure projects were underway.  Soon the highway narrowed to potholed tarmac that twisted and turned through small dusty towns.

Pilgrims en route to the temple
add colour to an already colourful road

The first camel drawn cart was a fascination but soon it was commonplace. The town markets were vibrant - every description of carefully stacked fruit and vegetable, all intensified by the bright saris worn by the local townswomen.

Ladies prepare to collect kindling

We soon got the hang of the driving technique. Come up behind another vehicle, whether camel or tractor drawn, beep the horn and attempt a pass on what often is nothing more than a lane and a half’s width. Oncoming traffic does the same, flashing their lights in the dance of brinkmanship for their place on the road.

Lots of smiles and waves from
passing tractor drawn workers

Our driver assured us that by the third day on the road we’d think nothing of it. The scenery had changed to arid desert and the road through Mandawa became a cloud of dust. We wondered what our accommodation would be like after the comfort  of the Delhi Oberoi.

Our cottage sanctuary at the
Mandawa Desert Resort

Deceptively comfortable bed - the
mattress on a slab of concrete!

The Mandawa Desert Resort was certainly one of a kind. Guest cottages are designed along the lines of a Rajasthani mud hut.

Forgiving the rock hard bed, the room was spacious and comfortable with a well-equipped bathroom that delivered lots of hot water - eventually.  Despite intermittent power we embraced our latest experience.  The ancient one-bar electric fire was put to good use as the temperature dropped.

However, I am still not up for the full Indian breakfast, not yet.

"Krishna was a naughty man"

A broad Mandawa smile

According to our guide, Krishna was a naughty man.

This observation was made as we walked the dusty alleys of Mandawa observing the colourful illustrations on the many havelis - homes built by the town’s rich merchants who had made it big in Bombay. Money was sent home to build a magnificent home, only to be outdone by a neighbour.  Mandawa was once a key part of the silk route and after the British came to India the merchants moved to the coast to ply their trade, investing their new wealth back to the havelis of Mandawa.

Into the battle he goes

Illustrations of costumes
and animals on the walls of a
haveli's inner courtyard 

A raiding party attacks the railway

The frescoes on the inside and outside of the havelis are a virtual outdoor art gallery - some depict the railway being guarded by the British and marauded by the locals. 


Others depict the male and female dress of the time, plants and flowers - and of course the many gods of the Hindu faith.

The havelis are several stories high and have courtyards within courtyards.  The top floor is often open to the elements and used for sleeping during the hot season when temperatures reach close to 50 degrees.  


In one of the bedrooms a pulley was evident at the shuttered window.  A fan above the bed, attached to a rope system through the pulley was activated by a punka wallah who kept the air moving in the bedroom from the courtyard below.

So why was Krishna a naughty man? Well he stole the clothes of a group of ladies who were bathing and hid with the clothing in a tree so that he could seduce one lady in particular ….. and so the story goes.

Don't leave yet - we're having fun!

Meanwhile at one of the havelis we made friends with the caretaker’s children, pitching a rubber ball to them. Consumed with laughter, their baseball and cricket bats were of limited use in the venture.  Who were these strangers anyway?

Big Fat Indian Wedding

It felt like Venice but this was
Bikaner's Junagarh Fort

Appearing from the dust like a mirage, the desert town of Bikaner has a medieval feel about it. 


The impressive Junagarh Fort built in the late 1500s dominates the old city and provides colourful images of the life of the maharajahs with  intricate carvings, etchings and paintings decorating the many apartments and courtyards. 

Adventures with bangles made
for someone half my size

The narrow streets of the old city were certainly worth investigating.  We faced the usual barrage of camels, auto rickshaws, cows and motorbikes but relished the scenes of every day life as people shopped, ate, bartered and listened intently to the latest cricket scores on old fashioned transistor radios.

Women wore the most exquisite, colourful saris. The filmy fabric positively floated as they walked, bangles jangling. Shopping bags were balanced steadily on heads as women made their way through the market.  A quiet elegance amidst the chaos.

Amused onlookers watch
the bangle fitting

I found myself caught up and compelled to buy some colourful bangles, causing a stir as the merchant worked hard to force the narrow bracelets over my wide wrists.  After 6 bangles I called the proceedings to a halt paying for the full box she had intended to adorn me with.

Back at the hotel, great preparations were underway for the wedding reception of a local couple who apparently have lots of friends.

The bride and her attendant
welcome wedding guests

We were told that 15,000 people were expected to attend the wedding banquet and an army of human ants were setting the stage on the lawns in front of the hotel for the party.  

Wedding guests eat in shifts and we learned later that all foreign visitors at the hotel were also invited to join the dinner, their presence bringing good luck to the happy couple.

A member of the wedding party on
 the phone - a preoccupation of the
crowd it seemed

We watched the proceedings with great interest as friendly guests introduced themselves, patting their well dressed children with admiration and pride. Cooks brought plates loaded with interesting looking pungent snacks. All of a sudden I’m longing for a hamburger and fries.

The Swirling Dusts of the Thar Desert

Threading the needle to Jaisalmer

Today brought a whole new appreciation for “eat my dust” as we made the 5 hour drive from Bikaner across the Thar Desert to Jaisalmer. 


The quality of the road system had improved markedly due to the presence of the Indian military who have a 60,000 force in place watching the nearby border with Pakistan.

Surrounded!

The highway drive was interspersed with adventures through small communities. Goats, cattle and camels roamed the roads at will and our hearts were often in our mouths as we threaded our way past slower vehicles and oncoming traffic. 


Goats have absolutely no road sense and the cattle meander bucolically along as though they own the road.

Rice offering in Phalodi's Jain temple

An interesting stop en route took us to the town of Phalodi, a community surrounding the 15th century Fort.  The town grew in the 18th century when Jain traders built their havelis and temples.

The Jain temple in Phalodi positively sparkles with gold and Flemish glass.  The gentleman who showed us the temple also showed us his own haveli that has been in the family for four generations.

Workers on their way to the fields

While we had seen many havelis earlier in Mandawa, we particularly noticed the intricate carvings and workmanship in the Phalodi buildings.

Many of Phalodi’s havalis have been abandoned which seems to be the case generally because of cost of upkeep and disputes over ownership.

Continuing our journey we met more and more military traffic on the roads as we entered the outskirts of Jaisalmer.  

Sun sinks behind Jaisalmer's Fortress

From the rooftop of our hotel we watched an orange ball of sunshine sink behind the Fort on the hill.  
More adventures await us in the old town tomorrow.

Jaisalmer's Golden Garrison

Welcome!

Reminiscent of a sandcastle -
Jaisalmer's Fortress City

Jaisalmer’s nickname as the Golden City is well earned.

The strong sunshine bounces off the honey-coloured sandstone from early light.  It positively sparkles.

Sunset over Jaisalmer's Fort City

From miles away the fairytale Jaisalmer Fortress is eye catching. Taking in the view, its hard not to be struck by thoughts of ancient battles, royal princesses, desert traders and camel trains.

Over 900 years old there are concerns about the Fort's future. Close to 3000 people live within the labyrinth of stone paved alleyways and the original water system was never intended to support such a large population.  Leakage has resulted in serious erosion, and in some cases, part of the ramparts have completely collapsed.

Ornate sandstone carvings within
the Jain Temple

Despite the fact that every man and his dog is trying to sell you something, tourism is the town's sole economic driver.  That said, its hard not to be charmed by its winding streets and ornate decorations in the golden sandstone.  The Jain temple is outstanding with beautiful carvings and detailed designs.

Jaisalmer's havelis were the most
 impressive we saw on our travels

Not to be outdone, the havelis built by wealthy merchants in the 1800s are spectacular and reminiscent of the renaissance in their design.  Intricate latticework has been carved into the golden sandstone, framing window balconies, doorways, turrets and stairwells.  

Working on the Fort's fallen walls

Jaisalmer's Fortress city is certainly the stuff of fairytales - unfortunately it competes with the rigours of modern civilization.

Lalu and Babalu - Our Ships of the Desert

Do you hear strains of the
Lawrence of Arabia theme?

I’ve always had a bit of a fear of camels - their prehistoric looking bodies, rectangular-shaped heads with teeth like a set of dominoes.

The truth is you just have to meet the right camel.

We were about to embark on a ride out to the sand dunes to watch the setting sun.  Lalu and Babalu were waiting for us, sitting patiently on the ground, their large padded feet tucked out of sight with colourful blankets draped over their boney bodies.

Waiting patiently for the fare

The relatively easy part is climbing “on board” when the camel is sitting comfortably on the ground. The more challenging part is hanging on as one part of the camel rises, followed by the rest of him.  Leaning in the right direction in the saddle as this occurs tells the world you know what you’re doing.

Seat belt optional

Comfortably aloft, we set off along the dusty trail to the sweeping dunes - Pakistan a mere 40 miles away.

The sun was low in the sky and you could feel the heat draining from the desert.

Camels have such aristocratic faces - maybe it’s the way the reigns hold their heads in position but they just seem to look superior, holding their noses high in the air, their bright eyes focussed on what lies ahead.  

On the negative side, a camel’s bodily functions are loud and frequent. Lalu would occasionally froth at the mouth as he sensed a female camel in the distance. 

The professionals .... now how do we get off?

Sure footed and steady, Lalu and Babalu, our ships of the desert gently traversed the sand dunes.  We took in the last rays of the setting sun before returning to our hotel.

Some of the more adventurous spent the night in a tented area near the dunes - I kept thinking about the profusion of cobras in the desert and liked our choice better.

Jumping Jodhpurs - Now that's HOT!

One of the many roadside mounds
of red hot chili peppers festooning
in the Rajasthani sun

Five hours after leaving Jaisalmer we reached Jodhpur, the cultural and judicial capital of Rajasthan.

On the way we stopped at a local market to look at one of Rajasthan’s most sought after products - red hot chili peppers.  In the 40 degree heat the powerful aroma from the huge piles of peppers hit us hard. Don’t breathe in!

Jodhpur - The Blue City 

While Jaisalmer is referred to as the Golden City, Jodhpur is known as the Blue City. In the past the Brahmins coloured their houses blue although nowadays this practice is widely copied.


From atop the magnificent Mehrangarh Fort the profusion of blue from the houses in the town below seemed to create translucent hues in the sunshine, blending with the rising dust.

Mehrangarh Fort - A show stopper
in the fort world

The Mehrangarh Fort built in 1459 was constructed on a rocky ridge and the fortification rises perpendicular from its foundation on the hillside, making it a staggering sight - reminiscent of toy forts we played with as children.

Greeted by incredible views of impossibly
straight sightlines you crane your neck -
but watch your footing on the uneven cobbles!

The royal family vacated the Fort some years ago and now reside in a stylish palace on the other side of town (half of which has been taken over by the Taj hotel chain).  The Fort is well preserved with an impressive museum showcasing examples of royal customs, culture and battles.

It’s a steep walk from the main entrance through the various courtyards and gates - looking up at the towering turrets you are drawn to crane your neck to study the peaks of the incredibly beautiful buildings, all meticulously carved in sandstone.

Mehrangarh Fort is one of the best preserved forts in India - it’s a treasure and one that will keep you wondering how on earth it was ever constructed in the first place.