The rainbow of Rajasthan

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After the pearly white of the Taj Mahal, we’ve headed to the north-western state of Rajasthan to seek out colour. We came hoping for a palette worthy of Laura’s most vibrant psychedelic paintings and so far haven’t been left wanting – and that’s just looking at the first place we visited, with bright red turbans set against the salmon pink of the palace and a vibrant turquoise sky.

Jaipur is the state capital, also known as the Pink City. A large part of the city is painted in salmon pink – not just city walls, but most of the buildings, as well as the aforementioned palace which has offsetting brilliant white detailing to complement it perfectly. We’re slightly unclear why it’s all painted in pink – our guidebooks point to two things: a visit by Prince Charles (yes, that one) in anticipation of which the town was painted in his honour, and a desire to hide the poor quality building materials used in construction. For the sake of artistic integrity, I’m just glad Charles didn’t visit the Taj Mahal in the same trip!

We quite liked Jaipur. It’s noisy and bustling and polluted, but it has a centre, and a sense of purpose that we didn’t find on the throughways of Agra. Here we also found a place that does killer (in the positive sense!) samosas, and a bright, clean and homely guest house. In fact, we liked it so much that we’ve decided to come back here for Diwali in a couple of weeks – it’s meant to be one of the best places to see the festival in India.

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On the sightseeing itinerary, we checked off (it’s becoming a little repetitive!) the two palaces, which were magnificent. The City Palace, still home to some members of the Rajput royal family, has a courtyard with four stunning painted doorways – see the picture above. Also there are the largest crafted silver objects in the world – two urns, 1m high, capable of holding 8182 litres of water. These were used by ruler Madeo Singh II when he went to London in 1901 to attend the coronation of King Edward VII – in an irony that wasn’t lost on us as we sipped from our bottles of mineral water, he was so concerned about the quality of water in the west that he had these filled from the Ganges and brought with him!

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Palace number two – the Hawa Mahal – is really one large facade, on five stories, built as a set of intricate one-way screens to allow the women of the court to watch street processions while remaining out of view. Fabulous views on the modern day traffic jams below!

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Our second day in the city was a chance to visit the ‘Monkey Palace’ in the hills to the east of the city. This is a set of temples around two pools of water in a gorge, filled by a natural spring, and home to thousands of monkeys, who just like humans love swimming and generally splashing around in the water. It was much like a day down at your local leisure centre (albeit with slightly greener water) – young ones running around screeching and dive bombing into the water, splashing everyone around; older folks having a sedate dip; and mothers with infants perched on the edge carefully checking for nits! I think the only thing missing was the lifeguard, but as we’ve said before, standards of health and safety are a little different here!20111011-110350.jpg

We also took the time to take in two of the city’s more modern sights – the OM Tower, our first revolving restaurant, which had great views of the city if little of edible delight, and then the art deco spectacle of the Raj Mandir cinema. A 1500 seater air-conditioned marvel, it has a lobby appropriately like something out of the movies, a dizzying pinky-blue combination, with neon blue chandeliers and curved staircases among the more standard popcorn counters and fizzy drinks. We saw a terrible Bollywood film (Rascals), but the entertainment came more from the audience than the screen, with cheers, whoops and shouted words of encouragement from the crowd accompanying every event on screen. We were a little surprised when, thinking three hours of film was sufficient, the plot seemed to come to conclusion and it was only the interval – but then we discovered a mere 58 minutes of real time had elapsed, and settled in for the second round! Highly recommended!

Next stop: Jodhpur, the blue city, and home to the famous horseriding trousers.

Simon

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Change of plan

Just a quick note to say we’ve changed our plans a little for the next month. We had been planning to spend a month in India, but have now realised what everyone else has been telling us for ages – that there isn’t enough time, especially if we want to see a taste of both north and south.

We also want to start our SE Asia journey in Vietnam, which will make it easier to end in Malaysia, and means we can meet up with Simon’s friend Sarah. Very sorry to Tom and Dayna, who this now means we won’t see in Thailand – hopefully we’ll be able to catch up with you a little later on.

The revised plan means we now fly out of India around the 8th November, from Kochi in the south, into Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam.

We’re currently in Jaipur, leaving tomorrow to continue our tour of Rajasthan, before returning here for a brief respite over Diwali on the 26th October, and then heading to the south of the country by train.

Simon & Laura

Agra: friends, festivals and the Taj

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In Agra we sought refuge at the delightful Tourists’ Rest House, an oasis of calm from the dusty chaos outside. My food poisoning went from uncomfortable to feverish and there were certainly a few moments when we seriously considered finding the next flight to tamer Thailand! We persevered though and are all the better for it now.

Agra’s a funny unstructured town, without anything in the way of a centre – there are a few different districts which have streets with more shops on, and lots of dusty roads packed with blaring traffic and a blazing sun – but nothing that really feels like you’re somewhere other than a thoroughfare. Fortunately, we found shelter from the heat at a great ice cream parlour near our guest house, where Laura indulged in a chocolate ice cream fantasy – the first frozen stuff we’ve had since setting out. It looked mouthwatering, but I was firmly staying away from anything other than rice and plain toast for the time being!

Our lovely friends Solveig and Gardar from Norway who we met on the Gap tour in China were in Agra at the same time, and so a real highlight was the happy reunion we had with them over rooftop drinks at sunset and then dinner. They regaled us with tales of their recent trip to Sikkim and Butan, a mountain kingdom that’s on the cusp of modernisation after only recently being opened to outsiders. It sounds like a fascinating country, with the Gross National Happiness index (no, really!) taking precedence over more materialistic measures like GDP. They were also near Sikkim when the recent earthquake struck, entertainingly driving down a road at the time that was so bumpy that they didn’t notice the ground shake – but they saw some of the destruction in the places they were staying.

Solveig is also a nurse in her life outside travelling and very kindly provided drugs and rehydration salts to a somewhat out-of-it Simon. Many thanks for that – I’m feeling so much better now!

While we were there, Agra (and indeed India) also played host to Durga Puja, a colourful street festival in which almost every street erects an ornate tented shrine to the goddess Durga. These were on every corner, and ‘tented’ doesn’t really do it justice – this is no marquee. I initially thought some of them were carved from wood, so ornate is the shape of the stretched fabric covering. A great time for celebration – with loud music blaring out of speakers everywhere (including mounted on every telegraph pole down some main roads), festoon lights in red and yellow, and on one of the days, scores of people parading the goddess through the streets, awash with brightly coloured tikka in red, and green, orange and pink.

We visited the Mughal Agra fort, decked in red sandstone with dominating twenty metre high walls. Slightly less impressive was the stench of stagnant water from the putrefying moat – although it certainly encouraged us to pay up and go in quickly! Much like the fort in Delhi, it was a former seat of government, holding a palace and the halls of public and private audience, which were suitably majestic and regal. It also held some features for the amusement of the royals – the ‘fish palace’, with tanks and water channels which could be used to practice fishing, and a (literally) life sized ‘pachisi board’, where the emperor could play the ludo-like game with slave girls dressed in bright colours as the pieces. His father started this practice, and was known to play games with up to 200 ‘pieces’ that would last 3 months! Now I know they say cricket can take quite a long time to play, but I think this takes the record!

Our final sight in Agra was the magnificent Taj Mahal, which more than met its billing, even at the just-after-dawn time of 6:30 in the morning. Majestic, beautiful, tranquil and intricate, its lines of dazzling white symmetry and perfect reflecting pools are a sight that will stay with us for a long time. One cannot help but be awed by the combination of finely carved marble, glowing a pearly white in the morning sun, set against dark place Koranic inscriptions, and all against a huge blue expanse of sky.

The dedication to symmetry is everything – identical left-to-right as well as of course vertically through reflection in the water. The consequence of this is interesting too – the large mosque to the left of the Taj faces Mecca to the west, but of course the replica to the right cannot as it would break the symmetry – so it remains just an empty replica, perhaps a metaphorical place of worship for those who seek aesthetic rather than religious enlightenment.

The Taj Mahal has been described as “a teardrop on the face of eternity”, but to me, the saddest thing about this mausoleum of love comes from its minor piece of asymmetry. For next to the perfectly aligned tomb of Mumtaz Mahal lies the mispositioned and asymmetric resting place of her husband and creator of the Taj, Shah Jahan. He spent his final years deposed and a captive of his own son, only able to gaze upon his romantic monument from the Agra fort in the distance, and then buried awkwardly for eternity – appropriately alongside his greatest love and within his greatest creation – but in a way that he never can have intended or desired. But then when you think about it in the broader sense, what more fitting way can there be to cap off a monument to the trials of love?

Simon

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Delhi doldrums and delights

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Ah hello! You join us aboard the New Delhi Shridham Express, on the way to Agra. The train’s currently running 2 1/2 hours late, but it is finally moving – and so are we, after a few days to gather (no, not find) ourselves in Delhi.

So, India! It’s lived up to most of the stereotypes so far: hot, dusty, dirty, noisy, crazy, and we’ve both managed to welcome in a new country with its common embrace, Delhi Belly. But on the positive side, the colours are vibrant, the sightseeing awe-inspiring, and we’re warming to the place – especially when not isolated by air conditioning!

It’s hard to capture the sheer feeling of mayhem and confusion you get walking down the street here, but let me attempt to paint the picture. Firstly, the road itself is fashioned from tarmac which has given way to dirt and is decorated with potholes and bumps, and stones and rubbish – so the vehicles are weaving their way along, often on the wrong side of the road to find a clearer path. Ah, yes – the traffic! A combination of hand-pushed carts laden high with boxed goods, bicycles with their bells brring-brring their presence, and horn-blaring rickshaws – cycle-pulled ones like a horse and carriage (with the horse swapped out) in a variety of colours, and a sea of green and yellow auto-rickshaws, essentially a motorbike with some seats and two extra wheels attached to the back. Plus the odd cow, generally emaciated and munching away on the rubbish, often right in the middle of the busiest of roads. Oh, and cars, taxis – and the occasional huge Tata lorry or bus that seems determined to squash you. Did I mention there’s no pavement? Actually, that’s not quite true – sometimes there is a pavement, but only one that truly existed in the architect’s mind, as if the builders didn’t quite know what it should look like and had to guess. Invariably if it does exist, it’s practical in plan view only, for it’ll be 2 feet up from the road – and when you do clamber up (stepladders are not provided), it’s already in use – open manholes into sewers, storage for piles of boxes, chairs for security guards, fences, electricity cabinets. We’ve come to the conclusion (like everyone else) that it’s safer amid the melee on the street!

We were staying in the Pahan Ganj, the tourist area of New Delhi, which is probably the most tourist ‘friendly’ place we’ve been to so far. And by ‘friendly’, I really mean ‘blood sucking’ (vampire squids be warned), at least in any conventional sense. Essentially along with the aforementioned street chaos, everyone is shouting in your direction, trying to extract money from you, whether you look interested or not: “Rickshaw? Rickshaw? I give good price. Taxi to Red Fort? Cheap Hotel! Nice bracelet, authentic jewellery. Dinner sir, western food? Weather raining in England! Indian Helicopter?” (that last one’s a more entertaining name for a rickshaw). It’s quite like the Thamel area of Kathmandu – but with more traffic and pestering – and more heat.

Interaction with those on the street is further confused by the genuine attempts of some people to be friendly and start conversations – uninhibited by the norms around privacy you’d expect in the west. Unfortunately these all seem to consist of the same stock phrases – “You arrive Delhi when? Ah, welcome to
India! In India how many days? Where next stop? How many children you have?” It’s easy to want to be rude to everyone and shut it all out – but some of this (and the hard thing is working out which bit) is actual well-intentioned inquisition and could be great. We’re hoping that elsewhere in India we’ll find fewer touts and more obvious friendship!

As you can probably tell, it’s been a fairly stressful few days alongside the feverish stomach aches! We did manage to see a few sights while were were in Delhi though, which were more than worthwhile.

First up, the Jantar Mantar, an open air observatory built in 1725, essentially a park filled with huge stone structures used to calculate time and various astrological measurements such as the diameter of the sun. The structures are a mix of towers and arcs, with a couple of small colosseum-like buildings too, each with a tower in the middle, casting a shadow which was then measured. The bright red sandstone is very distinctive of the area, and set against the shining white surfaces and steps used for the calculations, it looked amazing. Apparently the sundial could report the time of day within two seconds!

We were especially pleased we made it here given we’d been warned off by various locals that there was nothing for a tourist to see. There’s also a con in some parts of Delhi where one scammer squirts poo on your shoes, and then another person turns up, kindly offering to clean it off for an extortionate fee. Given we were both wearing sandals we were very happy we didn’t fall victim to this one!

The following day, despite protestations from rickshaws that it was definitely closed, we went to the Red Fort (which was most certainly open, and teeming with people). A huge red sandstone Mughal monument, it used to be the centre of government and home to the emperor, with 2km of ramparts and numerous internal palaces, which used to have an artificial stream running through the middle of them. There was also a museum about India’s struggle for independence from the British – which was inspiring for the incredible non-violent struggle led by Gandhi. It was slightly odd being Brits going round the museum and being unsure how to respond – compounded by various people asking for our photo with them. Laura and I weren’t quite sure if we should be posing as colonialists or not!

We also went to the ‘Sound and Light Show’ at the fort, which just about met the spec – there was sound (surround sound, no less), and they did illuminate the buildings with coloured lights, but it was a little underwhelming. The narrative, about the history of the fort and the Mughals was at least interesting – and the choice of English at times hilarious, the highlight, about the Empreror falling for a concubine: “The King loved a slut”. It was also pretty astounding to hear the tale of how the Mughals had been laid to ruin by a Persian invader, who essentially ransacked the riches of the city, including a beautiful peacock throne while the king emperor spent his nights and days partying instead.

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Delhi also has a precursor to the Taj Mahal – a mausoleum known as Humayun’s Tomb. It was amazing – a beautiful silhouette against the late afternoon sky, with gentle chutes of water running toward it. Its tranquility was everything the rest of Delhi was not, and it was a lovely escape. On the way there we were touched by a bit of honesty and hospitality – a rickshaw driver pulled up beside us and offered to give us a lift for the final 10 minutes walk for free. Thick skinned from the numerous other rickshaw encounters, we were dubious and took some convincing – but he told us that we were doing him a favour as he needed to pick someone up from our destination and was duty bound to stop if anyone had flagged him down while empty. Dubious, we thought, exhausted we stepped in, and successful we were! It really brought a smile to our weary faces!

And finally, the Gandhi museum, at the home where he spent the last half year before he was assassinated by extremists. It’s hard to overstate the significance that Gandhi has to India – he’s universally credited as being the father of Indian independence, and achieved it in such a positive and refreshing way – demonstrating that non-violence can be such a force for change. The museum more than does it justice and was enthralling. There were the usual rooms packed with images and lots of text about him, as well as a tour of his living quarters – and more eerily the final footsteps he took before he was killed. But the highlight by far was upstairs – a fairly newly opened digital interactive museum, which was brilliant! They’d used every imaginable way of encouraging interaction with the exhibits – singing, plucking a harp, steering a train, holding hands, turning wheels, moving screens over timelines, and it worked so well! We only wish we’d had more time to spend here – thanks to Ruth for recommending we visit.

I’ll leave you with a photo of an exhibit at the museum – “See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil”. One of Gandhi’s few possessions was a model of these three, a fitting tribute to a positive attitude in life.

Simon

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Nepal to India, another bus journey, another border crossing

From Pokhara we embarked on yet another 8 hour bus journey, this time landing us at the border with India at Sunauli. The bus dropped us in town from where it was a short cycle rickshaw journey to the border, which we crossed on foot. Passing beneath one archway marking the end of Nepal we ambled across 100 m or so of no man’s land, complete with two lines of slum shacks facing each other going into the distance each side of the border itself. A second archway welcomed us to India. The snack shop-lined road entering India was jostling with people, trucks and rickshaws and somewhere, hidden amongst the shops, was border control (once again easily missed). It turns out however, that in order to enter India you first have to officially leave Nepal. So after only a couple of minutes in India we scuttled back through no man’s land into Nepal to be stamped out (if only somebody had suggested visiting the Nepal immigration office on the first pass through…).

Upon officially entering India we once again boarded a bus, this time for a short (3 hour) bus journey, accompanied by a fantastically confusing Bollywood film, taking us to Gorakphur (a town in Northern India). For us Gorakphur didn’t have a whole lot going for it but served its purpose as a stop for the night before tackling the 17 hour train journey to Delhi. On the way, we encountered the many colourful tented temples, a grubby hotel with empty (and dirty) swimming pool, and our first taste of spice.

Unfortunately I succumbed to food poisoning in mere anticipation of ‘Delhi belly’ so not the most enjoyable train journey! Of course the guy in the bunk across from me (not Simon) snoring like a pneumatic drill (I’ve never heard such penetrating snoring) did not serve to make me feel any better. Nevertheless we arrived at Delhi in one piece (ok maybe two pieces) ready to begin our adventure in India…

Laura