Early Sunday morning I headed for my bus to Jodhpur. Before boarding I received an interesting request from a shop keeper for a "Puppy". In my naivety I thought he was looking for a small dog; however the Hindi translation turns out to be very different: a kiss. This was incident number one which left me feeling slightly uncomfortable as I embarked on my solo traveling.
Initially there was some confusion over seats, all probably quite hilarious for the bus driver. Having paid a premium for the privilege of reserved seating, several tourists were left baffled on boarding. They, like me, found themselves in seats 18 and above. The problem was the seats and their numbers stopped at 17. Oh India!
On arriving into Jodhpur I shared a Tuk Tuk with a french couple, Stephanie and Armaud, who I would later continue to bump into along my travels. From the hill top fort I was able to appreciate why Jodhpur is known as the blue city. Originally all the Brahmin caste painted their houses blue, then the rest of the city followed creating a sea-like mirage stretching as far as the eye could see. After a picturesque sun set, I headed down the hill to wander the streets.
The relative security of Kolkata and travelling in a group obviously left me too much at ease and I didn't expect what happened next. A boy, probably not too dissimilar in age to myself, began to follow me. I was first aware of him when he began hissing whilst walking behind me. As previously advised by many, I quickened my pace and headed to somewhere I knew was safe: my lunch spot. Still under pursuit I stopped to let him pass but he too doubled back. With just 20m to the restaurant door he grabbed me from behind. I shouted expletives at him and ran the remaining distance. Seeing I was quite distressed, the receptionist inquired what was bothering me and tried to catch the disgusting culprit. Unfortunately he'd already made a dash for it. Totally in shock and quite upset, the hotel owner tried to comfort me by giving me a quick lesson in self defence. Unfortunately the episode completely tarnished my time in the city. Thankfully I left the city that evening. Such a shame as the mukhania lassi were some of the best in India!
Jaisalmer was a whole new place. Its fort, constructed mainly of sand, provideed hours of entertainment for getting lost in. The winding streets are littered with shops and houses, which did sometimes mean you were constantly hassled by the shop keepers! However there was an escape in the form of rooftop cafes from where you can watch the world go by, or in our case an Islamic parade celebrating Eid, complete with elephants, horses, drums and lots of flags!
A good group of international tourists had descended on my hotel and together we decided to forfill the stereotype and head into the desert on camel back. Our group, made up of 2 French, 2 German, 1 Swiss German, 1 French Canadian, 1 Welsh, a pregnant Ukrainian and me flitted between French, English and German languages, all quite confusing for our guides Del Boy and Prakash! Off we trotted, or rather slumped, into the dunes for our two day adventure. Between myself, Stephanie the froglet, and Nicole the 65 year old French Canadian, we sang a variety of songs keeping our spirits high and our minds off the chaffing that was occurring in the saddle. (Still not entirely recovered!) The sunset was spectacular and for one of the first times since I've arrived, silence reigned over India. I learned to make chapatis without the conveniences of a kitchen and ended up making enough to feed the entire group! After some local drumming and chai we tucked ourselves into our sleeping bags and fell asleep under the blanket of stars radiating from the sky.
On leaving Jaisalmer I headed north through the desert to Bikaner. On the day I arrived they happened to have a Camel Festival, apparently very popular in this area of the country. The day showcased a variety of activities including sports competitions between rival villages, wrestling, cultural dancing, and my highlight, Camel racing.
India being India the activities didn't kick off until the afternoon and so we headed 30km out of town to the famous rat temple. Now the Indians don't mince their words, especially when it comes to naming things. Quite literally this temple was full of rats, roaming free, eating the food given to them by worshipers and subsequently depositing excrement everywhere. They say it's good luck if one runs over your feet; however I don't think this will be true in my case given my shriek of horror and subsequent conversion of the rat about a foot into the air!
The afternoon in the desert watching the various cultural activities was fun. Being one of only a few white foreigners within a mass of Indians, the amount of attention I received was magnified. You'd think a journalist being run over by a sprinting camel ridden by an over enthusiastic Indian would be far more interesting than me spectating but apparently not. So while I watched the competitors, India watched me!
Exhausted, covered in sand, and now probably the Facebook profile picture of many Indians from Rajasthan, I bid farewell to the historical state and headed further north to Punjab and the Golden city of Amritsar. Read my next blog to hear about meeting a weeping Sikh, dining with 80,000 pilgrams, visiting a Hindu temple based on a fairground ride and my experience in Delhi.
Initially there was some confusion over seats, all probably quite hilarious for the bus driver. Having paid a premium for the privilege of reserved seating, several tourists were left baffled on boarding. They, like me, found themselves in seats 18 and above. The problem was the seats and their numbers stopped at 17. Oh India!
On arriving into Jodhpur I shared a Tuk Tuk with a french couple, Stephanie and Armaud, who I would later continue to bump into along my travels. From the hill top fort I was able to appreciate why Jodhpur is known as the blue city. Originally all the Brahmin caste painted their houses blue, then the rest of the city followed creating a sea-like mirage stretching as far as the eye could see. After a picturesque sun set, I headed down the hill to wander the streets.
The relative security of Kolkata and travelling in a group obviously left me too much at ease and I didn't expect what happened next. A boy, probably not too dissimilar in age to myself, began to follow me. I was first aware of him when he began hissing whilst walking behind me. As previously advised by many, I quickened my pace and headed to somewhere I knew was safe: my lunch spot. Still under pursuit I stopped to let him pass but he too doubled back. With just 20m to the restaurant door he grabbed me from behind. I shouted expletives at him and ran the remaining distance. Seeing I was quite distressed, the receptionist inquired what was bothering me and tried to catch the disgusting culprit. Unfortunately he'd already made a dash for it. Totally in shock and quite upset, the hotel owner tried to comfort me by giving me a quick lesson in self defence. Unfortunately the episode completely tarnished my time in the city. Thankfully I left the city that evening. Such a shame as the mukhania lassi were some of the best in India!
Jaisalmer was a whole new place. Its fort, constructed mainly of sand, provideed hours of entertainment for getting lost in. The winding streets are littered with shops and houses, which did sometimes mean you were constantly hassled by the shop keepers! However there was an escape in the form of rooftop cafes from where you can watch the world go by, or in our case an Islamic parade celebrating Eid, complete with elephants, horses, drums and lots of flags!
A good group of international tourists had descended on my hotel and together we decided to forfill the stereotype and head into the desert on camel back. Our group, made up of 2 French, 2 German, 1 Swiss German, 1 French Canadian, 1 Welsh, a pregnant Ukrainian and me flitted between French, English and German languages, all quite confusing for our guides Del Boy and Prakash! Off we trotted, or rather slumped, into the dunes for our two day adventure. Between myself, Stephanie the froglet, and Nicole the 65 year old French Canadian, we sang a variety of songs keeping our spirits high and our minds off the chaffing that was occurring in the saddle. (Still not entirely recovered!) The sunset was spectacular and for one of the first times since I've arrived, silence reigned over India. I learned to make chapatis without the conveniences of a kitchen and ended up making enough to feed the entire group! After some local drumming and chai we tucked ourselves into our sleeping bags and fell asleep under the blanket of stars radiating from the sky.
On leaving Jaisalmer I headed north through the desert to Bikaner. On the day I arrived they happened to have a Camel Festival, apparently very popular in this area of the country. The day showcased a variety of activities including sports competitions between rival villages, wrestling, cultural dancing, and my highlight, Camel racing.
India being India the activities didn't kick off until the afternoon and so we headed 30km out of town to the famous rat temple. Now the Indians don't mince their words, especially when it comes to naming things. Quite literally this temple was full of rats, roaming free, eating the food given to them by worshipers and subsequently depositing excrement everywhere. They say it's good luck if one runs over your feet; however I don't think this will be true in my case given my shriek of horror and subsequent conversion of the rat about a foot into the air!
The afternoon in the desert watching the various cultural activities was fun. Being one of only a few white foreigners within a mass of Indians, the amount of attention I received was magnified. You'd think a journalist being run over by a sprinting camel ridden by an over enthusiastic Indian would be far more interesting than me spectating but apparently not. So while I watched the competitors, India watched me!
Exhausted, covered in sand, and now probably the Facebook profile picture of many Indians from Rajasthan, I bid farewell to the historical state and headed further north to Punjab and the Golden city of Amritsar. Read my next blog to hear about meeting a weeping Sikh, dining with 80,000 pilgrams, visiting a Hindu temple based on a fairground ride and my experience in Delhi.
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