Mon 1 Dec Udaipur

Mon 1 Dec Udaipur
Out in the cool of the morning.  It is beautiful, crisp, and clear.  Perhaps 16-17 C (61-63 F).  For breakfast we end up at Queen Cafe again where we order poha (expertly seasoned), chana masala, paratha, raita, and milk tea.
Before 9 am we see the locals bathing in the lake.
We are heading to see the City Palace.  On the way is the Jagdish Temple with spectacular sandstone carvings (or maybe these are marble carvings, since Udaipur is the center of marble for India). OK, people take photos of themselves and their friends.  And they take selfies.  But an incredibly crass English - speaker (American?) climbs into the small shrine of Durga and takes a selfie with the statue. Aaaargh.
We walk up the hill from Jagdish Temple to the City Palace, where we pay our entrance fee (115 R each) but forgo the camera fee. Here we start to see the more mature Brit, Euro and Asian tourists, who come in busloads or with their own guides. This museum tells the story of the proud Mewars, who ruled their kingdom continuously from CE 734. The hero here was Pratap Singh, who evaded capture as a young'un and fought bravely as a warrior etc etc.  According to this museum, the Mewars were the only kingdom that was not conquered by the Mughals (muslims).  They say that Jodhpur kings intermarried with the Mughuls.  We learned otherwise in the Jodhpur museum. Hmmmmmm... Comparing the two museums leads one to the conclusion that there is some exaggeration here.  So much for history. Anyway, lots of spectacular stuff including a ruby-red mirrored room and the Moti Mahal (Pearl Palace), a completely mirrored chamber with stained glass windows that spill reflected colored light.
For lunch, we walked over to Lotus Cafe, where we climbed up to the rooftop eatery, and ordered safed maans (lamb - but maybe goat to judge by the bones) (160 R), chicken swetta (140 R) and hakka noodles (100 R) along with a pot of lemon tea (45 R).  This was our first meat in a while.
The hakka noodles were a pleasant surprise, full of veggies.  Not anything like the hakka noodles we had had in Atlanta or Toronto. We ate our veggies, for sure.
After lunch we walked and walked.  We were in neighborhoods to the west of the lake, away from tourists.  Then we crossed the auto bridge (north of the pedestrian bridge we had been using).  We saw where the fancy wedding and carriage horses are stabled.
Back on the east side of the lake, we walk north, walking out of touristy Udaipur.  Eventually we are on New Bridge, perfectly positioned to see the sunset in 20 min.  But if we wait to see the sunset, we will be walking back in the dark on unfamiliar streets.  So we leave the lake, the bridge and all possibillity of seeing the sunset and walk to Hathi Pol, about 1/2 km north of Clock Tower, and about 1/2 km north of Tourist-stan.  South to Clock Tower, which comes sooner than we imagine.  Up to our hotel.
We hear the fireworks boom of the evening sound-and- light show starting somewhere over the lake, so we go to our hotel's rooftop restaurant and listen to an evening concert floating across the lake.  We ordered alu palak (130 R), naan (60 R) banana lassi (90 R), and cold coffee w ice cream (120 R).
Downstairs to our room to pack, watch some TV, and then to bed.

Sun 30 Nov Udaipur

Sun 30 Nov Udaipur
It is 520.  We are downstairs with packed bags.  We awaken two Cosy hotel staff guys, who carry our bags down the steep alley to the main street.  There is a waiting rickshaw.  We had been told it would cost 100 R, but now the driver wants 150 R.  Why not?  It is an ungodly early hour.  We tip the Cosy guys 20 each.
We are at the government bus stand by 540.  Traffic moves at this hour.  Our bus doesn't leave until 630.  At about 615 the Volvo bus we are going to take pulls into position.  We present our bags to be placed under the bus.  We have seats 37 & 38, so the baggage handler takes some chalk and marks 37 on both our bags and in they go. Goodbye Jodhpur. On our way for a five and a half hour bus ride.
About 3 hours in, we stop for food and bathrooms.  A cow has its head deep inside a trash bucket.  We are making good time.While Mike dozes, Carol enjoys the landscape.  We pass an area of marble mining, then cross the hills into Udaipur, the Pink City on Lake Pichola. We arrive in Udaipur about 1230.  The ordinary bus would take 7 - 8 hours. 
Once we step off the bus, we are fighting with the auto rickshaw guys,  who want an exorbitant 150 or 200 R to take us to Mewar Hotel.  Finally, we get someone to take us  for 50 R: more like the correct "Indian price."
We check in.  Our room is very nice (2150 R) with great views of the lake.  This  part of Udaipur is dreamy tourist central - everyone wants to sell you mellowness - ayurveda, yoga, coffeeshops, bhang?
At 1400 we go out for lunch - our first food of the day.  We cross over a pedestrian bridge over the north end of the lake.  "Millets of Mewar" is highly rated in our guidebooks, and so we climb the stairs to go it, and realize that this is a crunchy granola (made with millet) $$$ health food place, Udaipur style, and walk out.
Around the corner is Queen Cafe:  small, modest and recommended in both guidebooks. We sit down and order spinach soup (35 R), pumpkin curry (70 R), tomato curry (70 R), kashmiri naan (fruit-filled bread) (35 R), kashmiri lassi (50 R), banana lassi (45 R), and a pot of masala tea (65 R). Each item a vivid natural color and has a distinct flavor. 
There we see a Brit fellow and his girlfriend.  He had had a bad surfing experience, which resulted in a very bad concussion.  In the course of diagnosing and treating the concussion, they had discovered that he had a compression of the C2-C5 disks in his neck,  This is potentially very serious, and he was heading back to England for extensive treatment.  Chris Reeves, the former Superman, had sustained a fracture at C2-C3, which resulted in his becoming a quadriplegic, unable to move from the neck down.  For our purposes, he related that all of the testing in India (MRI, CT scan, etc.) had come to $145.
Meenu, the daughter of the restaurant owners, sits down with us and opens up a packet some of her special masala. Come, try it on your dishes (even the lassi). It is so good we buy apx 100 g for 200 R.  We talk food and enjoy each other's insights.
She takes us a couple of blocks to her cooking class room.  On the way, a milk delivery truck and many vehicles are all blocked by an elephant in the street. Nothing unusual here.
In Meenu's kitchen classroom, we talk about Indian cooking - specifically Jain cooking.  She gives us a printout of her recipes and asks us for 450 R.  It is the class notes from her cooking course - much cheaper then spending hours cooking in the class.  All for a good cause.
We take pictures of the sunset at 1735.
At 1845 we go out to attempt to find Natraj Restaurant, another recommended eatery.  At last we're heading away from tourist-stan (but not all that far away).  It is rapidly getting dark.  We pass the Shri Shitalnath Ji Bhagwar Jain Temple on our way.  Beautiful (and just a neighborhood temple dating from the 1800's).
On to the Udaipur Clock Tower.  At this point we walk east on small streets.  After a long period of walking, we think we are at Suraj Pol (gate), where we need to pass, but we are not.  We splurge on a 40 R rickshaw.  We never would have found Natraj otherwise.
We arrive, walk in, sit down, and the food starts coming.  This is a 120 R all-you-can-eat thali, not a 250 R thali.  So the ambiance is not that fancy.  No cute boys in pyjamas, just mid-aged men as servers.  But the food is plenty tasty, and we need to aggressively stop the waiters from piling it on the plate.  Lots of everyday customers and families enjoying good food.
As we are walking back to the hotel, we come to a fork in the road and have no idea which way to go.  Along comes our rickshaw driver from earlier today, the one who took us from the bus stand to the Mewar Hotel.  He wants 70 R to take us back.  Mike doesn't have the fight left to bargain.  So we hop in and we are back at the hotel.
To bed.

Sat 29 Nov Jodhpur

Sat 29 Nov Jodhpur
Carol was up very early, watching from her balcony perch the fort and the waking up of the neighborhood. First, the "aunties" get up, finish their ablutions, sweep the street outside with straw brooms.  A pile of covers on one roof turns out to be 3 sleeping men.  An older woman passes silently near them to start a fire under a pot.  When all the women are up and dressed, time to rouse the men.
Mike slept until 7 am.  We finally get going around 8:30 am.  Breakfast is going to be street food as we wander - we settle on some fried samosa-style stuffed fried pieces (meh), followed by two honey infused jalebi.
By 915 or so we set out to the fort (Mehrangarh).  The instructions are: take the alley from Cosy sharply downhill to the main street, then left to the fort.  At one point we have the choice of a left or right turn.  We go left uphill and come to a lake or water hole with no inhabitants around it.  A guy is throwing bread into the water to feed the fish.  Is this the way to the fort?  we ask.  No, go back to the fork and turn left.  This doesn't seem promising until 5 minutes later.
We are now at Fateh Gate. Lots of exterior spikes on the massive door to defend against elephants.  This gate doesn't put us inside the fort.  But it puts us on a rising road that runs the entire west side of the fort, slowly going uphill, ending at the ticket booth at the northeast corner of the fort.
About halfway along at 1000 am, we are at Chokelao Mahal, a madrassa like courtyard attached to fabulous living quarters.  These were for a rejected queen of Shah Jahan, who lived out her life in this place. The wife who didn't get the Taj Mahal. Here there is a scaffold and on the scaffold is a painter who is painstakingly restoring some of the individual paintings covering the walls. He is using a mix of gum arabic and boiled camel fat to get the historically correct paint. He graciously takes time to explain the symbolism of the beautiful art, mythology and local history.
Mehrangarh really does the concept of a UNESCO World Heritage site proud. It is still run by the Jodhpur royal family, who have decided to max the explanatory material and minimize random commercialism. We continue uphill, buy our tickets for 300 R each (we get a senior discount) plus 200 R for the camera. Along with our tickets, we get a highly rated audio guide which includes anecdotes by the royals themselves - our device has two ear plugs, two ear phones. Near the entrance are 2 sets of small handprints - the sati or immolation marks of  royal widows.
Much of our time was spent reviewing the various rooms of the rulers of Jodhpur, their weapons, royal palanquins and howdahs, etc. Luxe to the max. A wonderful room of miniature paintings reminds us of Iran.
Opium smoking was a regular practice; a mustachioed gent mimes the hookah experience.
The long and short of the museum's message is that the builders of this fort did such a fine job that even though the place was shelled (cannon ball damage still exists), it was never captured, and Jodhpur remained un-captured by the neighboring Mughal (muslim) shahs in the 15th-early 18th C.
By 1230 we are almost all the way through the museum. We are given a free 30 min raga concert that is supposed to relax.  It is so relaxing that Mike falls fast asleep. At the zehanna (women's quarters), the tape contains narration by one of the elderly female royals about how royal life changed for her with nationization and the end of purdah. A few more steps and we have finished the tour of the museum part of the fort. There is a tasteful low key handcraft shopping experience at the end, complete with working artists..
While Mike sits and dozes, Carol checks out the textiles, maps, statuary, and musical instruments (where the sounds of the correct instuments follow your footsteps). We walk all the way to the south to see the prominent mandir at the south end of the fort.  Then back all the way to the north end. Mehrangarh gets 5 stars from us.
It is probably 1 1/2 km down to the Clock Tower, which is the center of touristy Jodhpur.  We are quoted rickshaw rates of 200 R.  We start walking.  Finally, someone agrees to take us for the sensible rate of 50 R. As we pull in to the crowded tourist section of Jodphur, Carol has a visceral "get me out of here" reaction. Yuk.
But right here is the stand of the famous omelet man of Jodphur..  We each order veg.masala omelets for 30 R each.  We eat them while we are talking with two Italian girls who have arrived in India a couple of days ago. The omelets, each served on individual plates, are so bounteous that we mistake one plate as the serving for both.
It is now apx 1500. Hightailing it from.tourist-stan we walk along a narrow street to get back to our (less touristy) side of the town - the west side.  We are back to the hotel, and head up to the roof for some tea and decompression. Too bad that most of the tourist kids are glued to their iPhones and tablets, but we manage to strike up some conversation.
Major sites all seen, Carol would leave Jodhpur tonight if it weren't for the fact that our laundry won't be ready until 9 pm or so.
There is a Volvo express bus to Udaipur at 630 am tomorrow.  Our hotel guy calls a rickshaw guy who, for 150 R. agrees to run over to the bus stand, buy a pair of tickets, and deliver them.  We leave sufficient money for the rickshaw guy and go out to spend some time on the internet.
At 2000 we are back at the hotel for dinner. Our tickets are there.
At 2130 our laundry is delivered.  No green laundry bag - which we have carried for years. Our hotel guy makes a call and the bag is delivered by rickshaw about an hour later. Cosy gets an A+ for helpfulness.
To bed.  We have an early start tomorrow.
Yes, Jodhpurs originated in Jodhpur.

Fri 28 Nov Jaisalmer to Jodhpur

Fri 28 Nov Jaisalmer to Jodhpur
Overnight a few noisy dogs have at each other.  From the balcony and our room, we get great views of the rising sun over the fort.  Also views of the historic haveli next door.
One of our guidebooks calls KB Lodge a $$$ hotel, their most expensive category.  Hence, everything is classy. We are up at sunrise for the included breakfast.  At 1800 R we have gotten the cheapest room in the place.  The other guests are paying much more.  Hence, the included breakfast for this classy clientele is nicely presented: A masala omelet with lots of veggies, a whole basket of toast with butter and jam, a big pot of tea, AND fruit salad.  At breakfast, we see the French couple we had met at Sunset Point the night before.
We finish our breakfast.  It is 815.  We don't have to check out because the hotel has extended checkout to 2 pm.  We start walking through narrow streets to the fort.  It feels cool (60-65 F) (15-18 C).  We note the water coursing under the edges of the streets and alleys.  This is an age-old sewage system we have seen in Samarkand.  It functions as the drainage/sewage system for the city.
Beautiful buildings are scattered all through the city: some abandoned, some well maintained.  Numerous houses are decorated with an artist's painting of Ganesh with a rodent carrying offerings. The paintings are all signed and dated.  One house has a picture of cut dancing coconuts (which we later realize are probably drums) next to the Ganesh elephant.  All in all Jaisalmer has resisted the temptation to tear down the old and is a very consistent ensemble.
It is 840 when we get to the entrance to the fort.  There in a mandir (temple) before reaching the entry, where a group with drums, cymbals and singing perform a rousing morning Hindu service.
We are at the top at 850.  We decide to visit the fort ensemble by always turning right, even if it involves going steeply uphill, until we have seen everything.
We walk behind a fellow pushing a wheelbarrow, collecting household garbage that people throw in.  Our pathway takes us quickly up to a great view of the town, except there is FOG!  A San Francisco fog!  Today is cool - yes, cool - according to a local. This town is so dry that they haven't seen fog or mist in ages. Lucky us.
Along our way, Mike asks a friendly merchant if there is a set time for Hindu services.  The answer is YES: Early in the morning until about noon, and then late in the afternoon through evening.  We are told that the morning is especially auspicious because along with the rising of the sun, the "magnetic waves run east-west through the body and make the body more receptive." Works for us.
This gentleman also offered his services as a guide.  A charmer, but we demurred.  However, he or a friend were selling sandstone carvings.  A Ganesh figure called to Carol (250 R).  Maybe expensive in this market, but a way of saying thanks for the conversation.
Many merchants along the way, but no aggressive sales tactics:  more a teasing "Looking is free!" or "Time to spend your money - HERE!" or "Let me help you spend."
Some way on Mike sees a money changer, offering 60 R to the $1.  Mike asks if he will give us 60.5 R. Money changer says:  How many dollars?  $500. OK.  So for $500, we have 30250 R (all in 500 Rs).
Pretty soon we are at Laxminarayan Temple, and the related (although less opulent) temple just across the road.  We go through both.  The next turn takes us back to the beginning point.  It is 945. Here a gentleman offers us his services as a guide for 50 R.  For that price, why not?  He turns out to have excellent English and was a font of information. We 3 walk toward the series of Jain Temples (one ticket of 200 R gets you into the whole set).  The guide offers to supply commentary in the temples but Mike doesn't feel like spending the money.  We see another Sulabh (public toilet) and Carol checks it out. Our guide talks to us about the havelis we see.  The sandstone construction and carving is done off site and then lowered into place in the building process.
We see a string of chilies and limes (3 chilies, one lime, and then 4 chilies) hanging at the door of most buildings.  Our guide says this is to ward off the evil spirits. Dried mango leaves hanging above a window are also for good luck.  At one door an artificial abstract chili and lime hanging sculpture in glass or plastic with a metal surround catches our eye.  It is apparently not expensive, but we don't see one for sale anywhere.  A pity - the perfect souvenir.
We pass a spice seller and ask the Hindi names for each:
Black pepper                kali mirch
Cinnamon peel              dalchini
Cinnamon stick             dalchini
---------------------------------
Mustard flower             javidai
Cloves                          long
Star anise                      badyan
---------------------------------
Nutmeg                         jaipal
Cumin                           jeera
Garlic                            suth
---------------------------------
?
Mustard                         rai
Tamarind                       haldi
---------------------------------
Red pepper                    lal mirch
Fenugreek                      methi
Coriander                       dannya
Everyone is amused that these westerners are asking this.  These are everyday spices - doesn't everyone know?
We climb a small historic cannon spot to get the view - still foggy and cool, but soon the sun will come out. Soon we bid goodbye to our guide, who says we are true Indians (frugal? CHEAP?), not like tourists.  We try to get him some follow-up business by recommending him to other passers-by.
An item for sale all over tourist Jaisalmer is a turban-style hat made from bright printed quilted cotton. Many non-Indians buy one for 150 R and look ridiculous. We spot a cute tyke in the center square wearing one of these turbans and snapping photos; the father then piles on two more. Click, click. A woman who looks almost Romanian gypsy is carrying a kid in a hanging basket, and begging. She's glad to take money in exchange for a photo.
Lots of signage in Hebrew.  Israelis apparently come here in droves.  An Aussie hotel/restaurant offers Vegemite. Cater to the visitors.
With the guide already gone, Carol insists that Mike pay the 200 R and take at least 40 pictures in the 3 Jain temples, so she can experience it vicariously.  He does so.
Now the sun has come out so we retrace our steps and retake some pictures from overlooks.
It is now 1145 and time to head on down.  We pass a place highly praised in the guidebooks that offers Makhania Lassi for 40 R. This drink is hard to describe: like the tastiest filling imaginable for sour cream raisin pie, with saffron and pistachios added for good measure. They are SO GOOD, we have two.
After walking out, and back in lower town, we see the Salim Singh ki Haveli, a historic building. Admission is 30 R apiece, plus 20 R for the camera.  Admission comes with a personal tour.  What a knowledgeable guide.  We are told that this is the earliest of the Jaisalmer famous buildings, that it was built with chunks of sandstone, carved with male and female fittings (think Legos) so that the whole thing could be put together (and even taken apart) without cement (not enough water to make the cement). Even the decorations were designed with male and female ends for ease of construction. Wood insets were used to give the structure flexibility in the event of an earthquake, and to reduce the total weight of the structure.
The building was designed with a men's side an a women's side.  There was a system of visual signals to enable the women (harem?) to get their needs across non verbally, and vice versa. Pitch some woo tonight?...
Then we arrived at a room with many cunning objects that the guide showed off and explained in detail. There were intricate metal animal figures that could conceal keys or perfume flasks; a flower that opened up to reveal small bowls [perfect Seder plate?] etc.  He was so smooth that that it took many minutes to realize that this was a sales room.  If we had chosen we could have purchased 6 - 12 kinds of aromatic oils, along with lamps, trinkets, and other replicas of clever gadgets used 400 years ago to run a household.
It was 1240 and time to get back to the hotel.  Once again, we weren't careful, and we started walking southeast instead of northwest.  After about 10 minutes, we recognized our mistake. There was nothing to do about it except grab a rickshaw for 50 R to get us where we needed to be.
At 1315, back at the hotel.  1330, paying the bill of 1800 R (no extra tax) and leaving.  1345, rickshaw to where the bus is leaving.
We are in seats 2 and 3 just behind the driver.  We can see out the front and the side window.  We can, and did, put our bags in a compartment under the bus.  The bus will go faster than the one the day before.  So far, so good.
But . . . every other promise made at ticketing is false.  The bus quickly gets super crush loaded.  We are stuck in our seats, trapped by drivers and a door. This is somewhat to the good.  Nothing around us affects us except for being trapped by the door and the huge crowd on the other side of the door. And with stops, the bus is not "express-express" as promised.
Seated behind us is a smart and restless young boy whose parents are trying hard to keep him amused. After listening to him count fairly successfully IN ENGLISH to 125, Carol whips out the KwikPoint pictographs. They play a few rounds of "what is the English word for this?". Watch out: this kid will one day own your employer's company.
While on the bus, we call June Mahal to arrange a room in Jodhpur for 1050 R.  OK. However, the proprietress calls back and says there is a problem.  Bad phone connection or maybe some problems in communication?  We don't fully understand but decide to go to June Mahal on arrival anyway.
It is 1900 and dark when we arrive in Jodhpur.  We are dropped off at Pal Rd, about 4 km from June Mahal, which is somewhere in crowded Ada Bazaar in the old city.
The guidebook says rickshaws will take you into town for 80 R.  The taxi men smell blood.  Everyone wants 150 R.  If someone hesitates, the others say something like: "Hold firm."  Eventually, a guy in the business adjacent to our drop off spot sees what is happening and tells us to pay closer to 150 R. In the end someone carries us in for 130 R.
Many urban streets have speed bumps.  At some point, the street has a huge bump.  Mike flies up and hits his head hard against the roof.  Carol is glad to be short.
The old city has narrow roads more fit for donkeys that scooters and cars.  And the driver can't find the lodging on the road.  He won't give up and asks repeated questions, backtracking several times.  Finally, he parks the rickshaw and walk about 2 blocks to the hotel with us, carrying our bags.  He gets the full 150 R. What a trooper.
The woman proprietor at this 370 year old mahal feeds us two teas and explains that she is fully booked, but her sister hotel, Cosy, about 6 blocks away in the Navichokiya area, has a room for 1050 R.  If we like it, they will deliver the bags.  So we and one of her employees walk over there.  On the way over we pass a congenial crowd of men (geezers) playing card games on the front porch of some kind of temple.  The six blocks turn up to be uphill - really UPHILL.
This is a good old-fashioned backpacker haven: some low-priced no-amenity rooms, all the way up to our relatively "boutique" lodgings. We like the room!  At 1050 R it is the best buy of the trip so far and is at least as good as some of the 2000 R rooms we have been in.  And it is quiet, away from the chaos in town.  June Mahal was stunningly decorated, but we have lucked out here. According to the gentleman who accompanied us, the Cosy property has been in the family for generations. So we settle in.  Carol does some wash and hangs it on our little balcony to dry.
Time to go upstairs to the rooftop restaurant and order some dinner and a 650 ml Tuborg (150 R). There is lots of good conversation, something we've missed since this is one of the few backpacker places we have stayed. An Aussie metallurgist tells diverting stories of his business and pleasure trips.  We have great rooftop views of the Jodhpur fort from the west, too.  Cosy is a winner.
Eventually to bed.

Thurs 27 Nov To Jaisalmer

Thurs 27 Nov To Jaisalmer
We stumble off the bus from Bhuj. We were nowhere. On Pal Rd in the far suburbs of Jodhpur near nothing else except other private bus companies.  For 30 R, we convinced a rickshaw to take us a little way to another company that ran buses going to Jaisalmer.  It was 810.
For 250 R each, we got tickets to seats 11 and 12 on a bus leaving 830.  The back compartment was filled with bags (of rice?); the bus company representative sat our packs in the aisle on the floor.  We grabbed 1 kg of bananas (9) for breakfast.  Luckily, a porta-potty on site.
Finally, off we went.  It was not that crowded until we were out a little further.  Then some 30 more got on. Standee time.  They were everywhere, incl. standing and sitting on our bags.  It was this way for hours.  We hadn't slept well and were sort of numb.  Finally, at a rest stop, Mike had enough and moved our bags from the floor onto a seat.  The guy from the bus said we had to pay another 400 R (!) to let the bags sit on a seat.  The aisle was apparently OK.  We compromised by his jamming one of the bags into Mike's foot space at his seat, with the other on the aisle. Mike and Carol were thus imprisoned in seats 11 and 12 for the rest of the trip, while the bus and its 100-120 passengers tooled merrily along.
On the bus, we had telephoned ahead to KB Lodge in Jaisalmer and arranged for an 1800 R room w/o AC but with breakfast.  So when we came to a last stop the edge of Jaisalmer, we took a 50 R rickshaw to the hotel, saw our room, sipped on some tea while we decompressed.  The room was about the size of the bed, but nicely decorated.  And  the bathroom was OK.  This hotel (and our room) has great views of the spectacular fort at Jaisalmer.  And the clientele is European, mostly French  (French usually means expecting style in lodging). And they were also our age.
Off at 1500 to see the town (the Fort could wait until tomorrow). One of the things that makes Jaisalmer unique is that the monsoon is light enough that the sandstone is preserved much better than the other Rajasthan towns with their sandstone carvings. Across the street from our hotel was a historic public bathhouse and "urinal" - the largess of past rulers.  Many of the houses in this area had similar exterior paintings, seemingly painted by a couple of artists who lived by beautifying buildings.  The predominant painting is a Ganesh elephant with standard symbols around him AND a mouse/rat worshiping at his feet.  This isn't Mickey.  Mike's theory: is that little figure is probably omnipresent because nearby in Deshnok in Rajasthan, the white mouse is felt to have achieved "moshka" (final reincarnation), saved from the wrath of the God of Death.  Interestingly, the Hindu story sounds very much like the Elijah tales of the O.T.
Time to shake a leg.  We walk into the Patwa ki Haveli, up the street, a spectacular building made of sandstone carved into elaborate carvings.  Not all of the building is open to us but we are able to climb 5 stories and get some great views.
We never seem to have consistent maps, so we usually try to discover east and west by the time of day and the position of the sun. This time we do not carefully orient, and soon find that nothing on the ground corresponds to what we are seeing on our map, including a very nice Jain Temple. Finally, someone helps us out, and we realize we have gone north from the haveli, rather than west.  Now that we know where we are, we pay an auto rickshaw 30 R for a ride to the correct traffic circle.
The guidebooks say that the private bus company Hanuman is more reliable, so we buy their tickets.  For 200 R, we get seats 2 and 3 on the 2 pm bus for tomorrow, right in the front just behind the driver.  We are told this would be an express bus and that it wouldn't be stopping all along the route.
We are hungry.  At a street stand with lots of customers we buy 2 vada (fried lentil circles: looked like doughnuts but not sweet) which come with a bowl of dal and bowl of sambar for 20 R.  Another customer got the vendor to dip the vada into the soupy dal before serving.  This move may have been a bit too goopy for us to handle, but even tastier.
A few meters away was a fresh-press juice place, where we ordered 2 papaya juices and a pineapple juice. We were still hungry so we went to a recommended restaurant in the same square.  It was only 1700 so they were not yet serving meals.
So we walk uphill and end up in a part of town called Artist Point.   Not artsy at all - seems to consist of businesses and some shacks.
Later, we headed back uphill: this time to Sunset Point via a 30 R rickshaw.  We were dropped off a place with a fine view of the town and the fort.  But then a local beckoned us over to the real Sunset Point.  This was the classic view of Jaisalmer that appears in the glossy coffee table books.  Before our trip, Mike had seen a picture of the Jaisalmer fort at sunset from Sunset Point that convinced him that we had to come here.
Eventually, there were about 10 tourists snapping away.  Carol found some kids and pulled out the International Sign Translation cards and starts asking the kids to identify the pictures in English, a language they have studied.
Mike snaps about a dozen pictures of the town and the fort, and about 8 pictures of the setting sun - all of them inferior to the coffee table picture.
As the sun sets we find some steps down to the city and are soon back at the restaurant we tried to visit earlier.  This time it is hopping with locals and some tourists.  We order Govind Gatta (a grain dish) and Dam Aloo (potato with paneer in curry).  Both turn out to taste pretty much the same - but good nonetheless.  We eat and find our way back to the hotel, with a little assistance for the last 50 m.
To bed.  No TV.

Wed 26 Nov Bhuj

Wed 26 Nov Bhuj
[This is the sixth anniversary of the storming of Mumbai by 10 terrorists and the killing of apx 180 people, incl. people in the CST Rwy Station, the Taj Mahal Hotel, and Chabad.  It is 26/11 and is all over the news.]
Of interest: The individual room locks at Hotel Gangaram and in others where we have stayed are like old fashioned barn doors with a large lock and sliding rod.
Standard breakfast. Roland showed off his purchases from yesterday.  He has a wonderful eye for spectacular workmanship.  We had driven by car;  he had traveled much more cheaply in an auto-rickshaw for closer to 500 R.  We talked about driving after dark.  His driver had not put on his lights until well after dark.  Roland asked him to illuminate.  The driver declined, saying: "I can see where I am going."
Our hotel sits at the wall surrounding the Darbar Gadhi, the walled complex from which Kachchh was once ruled.  Added benefit - less traffic noise. Today we will see what lies within the walls. We weren't sure about where to enter, so we walked around it.  Thus we saw Swaminarayan Temple, and walked through all that was publicly available.  As we were 90% around the Aina Mahal complex, we found the entry.  Very atmospheric, with pigeons and other birds flying in and out of the stonework.
First up was Aina Mahal, and several related mahals, the ancestral homes of Kachchh's rulers.  Much of the front building was badly damaged, probably from the 2001 earthquake, which was centered about 30 km NE of Bhuj.  The first two floors of Aina Mahal have been rebuilt, and is now a museum.  The upper floors await funding.  We pay and enter.
Kachchh was ruled by the Jadega Dynasty from 1510.  This museum documented how the lived and the alliances and wars they underwent.  There is an exhibit of 17th C. letters, including military alliances of small states and concern about the commercial dealings with Dutch merchants.
As the current country of India was formed in Jan 1947, each small kingdom declared its allegiance to either Pakistan or to India.  For most it areas the decision was simple, and by mid 1947 the colossal movement of (perhaps) 100s of millions of people of the wrong religion had begun following Partition.  For places like Kachchh and Jammu and Kashmir, the decision was excruciating.  Jammu and Kashmir became a battlefield, de facto divided between the two countries.
Kachchh decided as follows:  Maharao (a word meaning Maharaja) Madan Singhji became its ruler in early March 1948, long after almost everyone else cast their lot one way or the other.  On 1 June 1948, he allied Kachchh with India, thus making Kachchh a border province with Pakistan.  He also secured a lucrative position with the British Foreign Service, and left to serve in several countries.  Shrewd dude, and a crack tennis and polo player to boot.  In later life he returned to live in the Sharad Barg Palace.
As we travel India, we are seeing repeated instances of folks who controlled major amounts of money and power, and how opulently they lived.  There are glass art objects from China, Delft ware, and wonderful textiles, along with glorious British furniture and silver.  Prag Mahal, another residence of the Jadegas, was available, but we decided not to look at the inside.
We were through about 1100.  Sharad Baug Palace was another palace, the last residence of the last maharao in much later life.  It was to close at noon, but when we got there at 1145 it was already closed.  Or at least, the staff didn't want to delay their lunch break.
On to the Folk Art Museum, which was to close at 1315.  After walking some, a 30 R rickshaw ride got us there.  A simple museum, it had exhibits of the crafts styles of the folks in the villages we had visited, and replicas of typical houses.  No signage in English, however.
We finished, and grabbed a rickshaw over to the Hotel Prince, rather upscale and on the other side of town.  There, in the Toral Restaurant, we had a scrumptuous thali, thus feeding ourselves for the last time before an long upcoming bus trip, AND celebrating Thanksgiving a day early and all-veg.
You sit down and a slew of cute young male waiters, dressed in pyjamas and turbans, come out.  The first filled four bowls with bhindi (okra), alu raswala (potato), chana masala (chickpeas), and valor muthia (green beans plus).  Another fills bowls with soupy dal and raita.  Another gives you 2 sweets, gulab jamun and jalebi.  Another dishes out 3 farsan: ghughura, patra, and bahi waba.  Finally others give you kadhi, rotis, papads, salad (tomatoes and cukes) and chaas (buttermilk).  Not only that, but it is "all you can eat and drink," and the guys keep coming back, ladles brimming.  All for 240 R, plus service charge.  Locals eat here; it is not a show for tourists.Simply scrumptious, and since we were not going to eat for well over 24 hours, very practical.
We left Hotel Prince, walked around the city for some blocks, and found an internet cafe.
Back to our hotel about 1545, where we sat around until it was time to start our overnight trip.  At 1700 we took a 40 R rickshaw to the bus company offices.  There we loaded into a free rickshaw to go out to a waiting bus in the suburbs.
We climbed into our assigned sleeper bed in an upper berth and lay down.  The bus pulled out a little before 1800.  We were stuck up above for the next 14 hours (because the ladders were really hard to negotiate up and down).  We were alternatively sleeping and lying there looking out the window.  First we were overheated, then cold.  While Carol fit well, it was too short and small for Mike.  The plastic container that once held rice did toilet service twice.
At 745 the next morning we and our bags were in Jodhpur in Rajasthan, out of the bus, and on the street, after having ridden about 600 km.

Tue 25 Nov Kachchh

Tue 25 Nov Kachchh
A little about the spelling of the area we are in - Kachchh has 4 letters: k, ch (soft), ch (plosive), and h. Hindi and Gujarati have soft and plosive forms of most consonants and they can be combined in multiple ways. The "h" is sounded also.  For us westerners, "Kutch" with the "u" as in "cut" will do.
A little after 7 am an ungodly clamor emanates from the temple up the street, or maybe from a house nearby.  Hindu worship takes place early and it usually involves drums and loud singing.
We get the hotel breakfast of omelet, toast, tea, each.  It goes on our bill.  Roland is there and we talk some more. Roland divides his time between Europe and India.  He is a knowledgeable textile arts lover and dreams of starting a business working with silk producers in Assam.
It is 900. Our car and driver is here, and we are off, seeing the area north of Bhuj.  Any trip to visit the Kachchh's pastoral communities is a step back in time.  Our driver has scant English, complicating matters. This is very much a shopping trip, and we are pitched at almost every stop. Here is a summary.
About 30 km out is Sumeraser. These are Ahir people. The first stop in Sumeraser is at Tana Bana. A kindly weaver and his hospitable wife, who hurries off to make tea. We watch him operate a pit loom to create single ikat weavings. Here we are shown woven goods in a family tradition that goes back many generations. Unfortunately their standard size for a scarf does not fit our purposes, and we leave.  Carol tries to tell the driver that we have come to learn, not buy, but he has this trip down, and it takes a good bit more to get him to change the way he is going to do it.
The next stop in the same town is Kala Rakska, a cooperative crafts group that has hooked up with some of the major foundations (e.g., Ford, et al) to distribute their crafts.  They have assembled a nice mini museum featuring wedding dress and customs.  This is Ribari style mostly.  The Ribari rear cattle, buffalo, and camels. Look and go once again.
On to Bhirendiara.  As we approach the town, it is time buy our permits to travel north closer to Pakistan. 350 for 3 adults and a car.
In Bhirendiara we go into people's homes, more of a visit than a hard sell.  We see "bhungas," traditional mud and mirror-work huts.  White houses are decorated with symmetrical design and bits of glass.  It seems a bit intrusive, until one man proudly asks us to photograph his brand new (2-3 yrs old) internal bathroom - maybe the only one in the village?  Beautiful items, but mostly coverings and wall hangings. Here we broke down and purchased two small embroidered pieces featuring elephants.
On to Ludia, where we intruded on a woman in her home. After demanding a photo with Carol she in turn tried to sell us nearly every piece of inventory therein.
Daily clothing and jewelry in all these towns is incredibly colorful.  In our travels, we are a little uncomfortable about photographing people.  Our loss.
Finally, to Khavka, about 70 km north of Bhuj. Here they specialize in pottery.  We think they told us that they fired the pottery every fifteen days in a kiln about 10 km away.  Again, we are channeled into people's homes for a view of their inventory.
It is now close to 1400.  We drive to Kalo Dungar, northeast of Khavka.  We drive up a hill about 500 m high.  The car parks and you finish by walking up the hill.  Some silly animal statues along the way. At the top you get to sit and contemplate the Great Rann of Kachchh: like being at the edge of the world.  We are looking at some of the deltas of the Indus River.  During the monsoon, the entire area floods.  After the monsoon, it dries out, leaving thousands of square miles of salt flats, which are mined for their salt.  As you look out, you see a great white desert.
Back to our car, and back to Hodka, where we walk through some private areas to get to the sales tent. Carol squats down to eye-level with an adorable bare-bottomed tyke.  The child is traumatized.  We hear screams for our entire visit. Sales are overseen by a gentleman who has traveled 4 times to Santa Fe, New Mexico, to present as a master folk artist and to sell the wares of the community.
Finally, enough of the sales, and we go about 30 km to the northwest, present our permits, and get to walk onto a boardwalk out onto the salt flats.  There is a breeze, breaking the heat.  The walk out and back is invigorating. Carol tastes a little of the salt.  It is very intense.
Back to the car.  It is now 1720.  The sun will set before 1800.  We will still be driving back.  Driving after dark will be the subject of another post.  It has its own special problems.
Back to the hotel at 1840.  We pay up our hotel bill, driver bill, food bill, and laundry bill by credit card. The driver is sitting waiting for our credit card to clear so he can be paid. Hope that he wasn't counting on a cut of all those artisans' sales.
Out for dinner to Green Rock Restaurant.  We order a paneer dish and a vegetable dish.  Both very good, but both tasted pretty much the same.  This seems to be a recurring problem for us.
Even at night, Bhuj is full of pedestrians, scooters and other vehicles. Like playing Frogger to walk! Back to the hotel, which we find this time, and to bed.