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.
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.
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