Rajasthan: Land of Kings, Turbans and Forts.

People have told us that the culture changes every 200 kilometers in India, which we have found to be true.  Clothes change color, fabric and style.  Longis change to dhotis and Gandhi hats to turbans.  India is incredibly diverse and the clothes one wears identifies one into a certain caste and trade.  For example, the style, color and type of turban a Rajastahni man wears is directly tied to his profession, which in India is a family occupation.  Moving from place to place, even the cows change, from the giant dairy cows of Mysore to the white cows with long, sharp horns colored blue or red in Tamil Nadu, to the hump backed cows of Odisha.  India never fails to amaze and delight with it's interesting and diverse culture.  Unfortunately, these traditions seem to be slowly dying with the younger generation opting for western style clothes.  Young women still wear the sari or punjabi suit but most men under 30 wear button down shirts and tight polyester bell bottoms.

Rajasthan is India's most popular state for foreign tourists and it definitely does have an enchantingly alluring mystique with it's mustachioed and turbaned men, women adorned in dazzlingly bright skirts and sparkling mirrored veils, and plethora of hilltop citadels defending opulent palaces of Maharajas, although it could do with a few less roof-top restaurants serving pancakes and veg burgers.  Our first stop from Ahmedabad was Mount Abu, Rajasthan's only hill station and a welcome retreat for Gujaratis escaping the heat.  Mount Abu has a large domestic tourist scene complete with pony rides, hot air balloon views, paddle boats, and either honeymooners or groups of men indulging in adult beverages away from their wives in Gujarat, a dry state.  We opted to do most of our sightseeing by foot, walking around the lake and visiting Toad rock while eating soft serve and enjoying the cool breeze.  We also visited some of the most spectacular Jain temples, with intricately carved marble reliefs.  The artisans were paid depending on the amount of marble dust they created each day, so the work is extremely detailed.  The marble looked almost translucent dripping down the walls in floral motifs punctuated with the odd animal frieze or deity.

Winding our way back down the mountain we headed to Udaipur, which was made famous by the Bond movie "Octopussy".  It is also reputed to be the most romantic city in Rajasthan being that it wraps itself around a large lake and is dominated by a beautiful and unique palace complex for the Mewari Maharanas.  We spent most of one of our days in the so called "White City" wandering the corridors and courtyards of the palace and getting used to the Rajasthani style of architecture with it's many colored glass screens and dripping eves atop the many balconies.  We also visited one of the city's many havelis, which are sumptuous little palaces that the merchants of the area would have built for their families with the money they sent back from their far flung journeys of fortune in the glory days of camel trains.  Among other oddly assorted artifacts there was a huge turban in a glass case that is purportedly the largest in the world.

We also took two courses while in Udaipur, one in Rajasthani cooking and the other in miniature painting.  The cooking class covered ten dishes including chai and several styles of bread. We huddled on the dining room floor of the teacher's suburban home, each helping with a different step of the meal.  It was a great introduction to Indian cooking and also a good way to learn some local dishes.  In our miniature painting class we each learned to paint an animal, Amanda an elephant, which represents luck in Rajasthan, and Colin a camel, which represents love.  Our other option was to paint a horse, representing power, but with luck and love who needs power?  We painted with the tiniest brushes imaginable made from a single squirrel hair, filing in the lines and adding embellishments to our instructors sketch.  It gave us a strong appreciation for the many miniature paintings we saw while in Rajasthan and also a nice memory to take home.

Next was a night bus to Jaisalmer in the Thar Desert in the far west of Rajasthan snuggled up to Pakistan.  We got  off the bus haggard suffering from little sleep and were hustled into a "mafia house" wanting to sell over priced low quality camel safaris despite our guide books warnings.  Since it was the cheapest room we had in India ($3!) we figured it was the case, so we dodged the hard sell by declining their offers of free tea and went to book with a recommended provider.  After being convinced to leave on a three day safari the next day we quickly packed our bags, bought a sun hat and in the morning we were on a speeding jeep heading west towards Pakistan to meet our camels in the desert.

When we arrived they had only just finished leading a safari with another group, so after some photos and goodbyes with their other charges they quickly repacked the camels with fresh supplies and turned their attention to us.  It turns out that the Camel-men would stay out in the Thar for up to a month at a time constantly leading groups of tourists on different circuits of the area. For all of this hot hard work corralling grumpy beasts of the humped and bipedal varieties our guides Mr. Kahn and Raju were very high spirited, chatting with us, singing desert songs, pointing out skittish wildlife, and constantly coming out with rhyming phrases to fit the situation.  "Camel college desert knowledge", "No chapatti, no chai, no woman no cry", "24 hour full power in desert no toilet no shower".  They always did their best to keep us all entertained, not to mention keeping us and the camels fed and watered.

The first day we rode our camels tied into a line behind our Camel-men so we could get used to being perched atop these strange beasts languidly lumbering through the sand and scrub brush.  It also gave us a chance to survey the starkly beautiful landscape surrounding us.  Most of the plants were covered in sharp spines, whether they were in the cactus, pea, or rose families, and we would have to quickly lift our feet up over the camels' necks when the path got too narrow.  The camels barreled through without a second thought, relying on their thick hides to protect them from harm.  There were also lower growths of sedge and tumbleweed sheltering small rodents and lizards.  We were also lucky enough to spot two desert foxes, a hare, a large spotted cat, a peacock, antelope, including a new born baby, deer, eagles, and also many camels roaming free.  We set up camp for the night on some sand dunes right out of Lawrence of Arabia, watching the sun set behind the hills and spending the evening relaxing our tired camel worn bodies after helping the Camel-men unload, fetter, and set the camels out to eat.  It was an unforgettable experience to sleep under a blanket of stars on a thin mattress in the sand.

Next morning we all said that we were up for driving our camels ourselves, so our Camel-men gave us some basic instructions and off we went.  Everything went smoothly and it was a real treat to get to pilot real live camels through a desert landscape.  Colin rode Lalu, who he called Lou, and Amanda had Simon.  Our Camel-men said that the last group of tourists had given Simon quite a few bhang cookies on their trip, so he was a little out of sorts still.  At the end of the day, as we were running the camels freely through some rugged terrain Simon took off for no reason and dragged Amanda through two closely spaced cactus bushes.  She was alright, but luckily we were almost to the next dune and she could get off of Simon and attend to her wounds.  Lou on the other hand was a champ and would take off at the slightest command, jetting to the front of the line with Colin bouncing along on his back trying to hang on and grinning like a fool.

After another pleasant night under the star filled sky and some dune somersaulting races, we set out on our last day in the desert.  By now we were all pretty comfortable atop our camels and could even get them to lay down and stand up on command, sometimes.  We trotted through more scrub dotted with villages full of mud walled houses and populated by many goats, sheep, cows, and camels, but at a few points we passed through the abandoned remains of settlements that were deserted during the India/Pakistan wars that followed Partition.  It was an eery reminder that we were quite near a contested border of two neighbors on bad terms.  After a final delicious meal of thick chapatti and sabji cooked over a fire in the shade of a large tree, we drove our camels through the final stage of our trip, getting closer to civilization and sad to leave our small taste of Thar desert life behind, but looking forward to a cold shower!  We all said a sad farewell to our trusty steeds and new Camel-man friends and were whisked away back to Jaisalmer, leaving Mr. Khan to take a long run with all of the camels back to his domicile.

We spent one more day in the atmospheric fort of Jaisalmer visiting a couple cultural museums with interesting displays of traditional instruments, house wares and religious articles.  The next morning we were on a bus to Jodhpur, the "blue city" aptly named for the clusters of blue houses that huddle under the towering Marhengarh fort.  Brahmins (the priestly caste) used to paint their houses blue to keep them cool in the summer as well as to deter insects.  Now all can paint their houses blue and many have, hence the name. The old city is a labyrinth of tiny lanes with houses stacked almost on top of one another leading up to the massive fort that dominates the skyline.  We spent several hours visiting the forts palatial quarters, gardens and temples.  Much of it has been converted into a museum with armory, palanquins, and elaborately decorated cribs on display.  We also wandered the city trying our best to dodge motor-bikes, rickshaws and cow-pies in the narrow lanes.

In Pushkar, which is home to the only Brahma temple in India, we found a nice place to stay with a pool and balcony.  Pushkar is a small Indian town that surrounds a lake which sprung up after Brahma dropped a lotus flower there from heaven.  Pilgrims flock to the lake to bathe in the holy water and visit the surprisingly small Brahma temple among others (there are about 500 in the vicinity).  Pushkar also has a pretty large tourist scene with hotels, shops and cafes lining the  few streets through town.  We took the opportunity to do some relaxing here, swimming, reading, watching sunset and visiting the few sites.  We also celebrated Colin's birthday here, which mainly consisted of a laid back day of relaxation.  We ate healthy food all day, had a nice long web chat with the fam, threw some flowers into the lake as an offering to Brahma, and swam whenever it got too hot.  We also ran into an Israeli friend we had met in Goa and met up with a big group of his friends to have a dessert thali, which is an amazing mix of cakes, hot chocolate sauce, caramel, cookie crumbs and whipped cream with fresh fruit.   It was great to have a big group to celebrate and to share some sweets with.

We finally pried ourselves away from the relaxed atmosphere in Pushkar and made our way to Jaipur, the Capitol of Rajasthan.  We stayed in the new city, quite a ways from the walled old city with the main sights and bazaars laid out in a regular grid, and so we spent too much time walking along the busy streets getting buzzed by vehicles and gassed by their fumes.  We visited the Hawa Mahal, where the ladies of the court were cloistered and got a view of the city.  The heat, bustle, and pollution quickly got the better of us and we made our way from Rajasthan to Agra.

Scenic Mt. Abu is blessed with a plenitude of water and a cool climate, drawing flocks of domestic tourists fleeing the sweltering heat of the desert filled plains.

Amanda gets a temporary henna tattoo from a young girl in Mt. Abu.  It only lasted a day, but was  fun anyway.

A view of some of the richly decorated havelis of Udaipur set around it's focal point of a large man made lake.

The "largest turban in the world" wasn't quite as big as we had hoped, but we tried it on anyway.

Our cooking class instructor and his niece.  It was an interesting experience to be invited into his home to learn some local delicacies.

Lounging like Mewari royalty on the balcony of one of the many havelis around Udaipur's lakes.

Amanda concentrates on painting a miniature elephant.  It was amazingly hard to keep our hands still and in control with such fine brushes.  We gained a new respect for the skill shown in examples we saw in museums.

The desert fort of Jaisalmer.  It was a formidable sight first thing in the morning reflecting back golden light from the sandstone walls and ramparts. 

Our faithful beasts take a water break in the Thar Desert.

Simon looking particularly majestic.

Who needs stirrups?  by the final day we were old pros.

Riding a camel bareback, a difficult proposition to decline, but that hump is not as soft as one might think.

Mehrenghar Fort light up on the hill above Jodhpur from the rooftop of our guesthouse.

Amanda did a short fashion show in the market in Jodhpur.  What you can't see is about twenty Indian ladies watching her and laughing along.

The Blue City seen from the ramparts of Mehrenghar.

A delicious dessert thali to celebrate Colin moving one step closer to 30 in Pushkar.

The Hawa Mahal in Jaipur where cloistered royal ladies could watch the goings on of the city below.

48 Hours in Mumbai, India's Bourdeuax and Holi Caves

We arrived in Mumbai just in time for Friday evening rush hour.  We jumped on the commuter train which felt like a cattle car for the hour ride into the city.  Crammed between rucksacks of goods, working men and green chillis we made our way into the bustling city center.  Finding a room that resembled a ship board cabin we went out for some dinner plate sized tandoori rotis and curries before calling it a night after our 26 hour train journey from Kerala.

The following day we spent walking around the old city, taking in the old colonial buildings as we strolled down the large leafy boulevards.  We started at the Gateway to India which stands directly in front of the iconic Taj Mahal Palace that dominates the shoreline.  Stopping for a quick breakfast of vada pav (a spicy lentil paddy on a bun) and chai we continued to wander around the historic Raj era buildings.  Around lunchtime we found ourselves at Churchgate station where Mumbai's famously efficient dabba wallahs were getting ready for their lunch runs.  Dabba wallahs deliver 200,000 lunches all over the city by way of train, bicycle and foot.  The color coded lunch boxes can change many hands from the wife or mother who makes the meal at home to the hungry office worker at the other end.  Amazingly enough, Dabba wallahs maintain a six sigma rating, only making one mistake in six million meals delivered!

After staring in awe at the dabba wallahs we made our way to some of the busy market areas that sell anything and everything under the sun.  Winding our way through the narrow alleys we made our way to Marine Drive and Girguam Chowpatty for some kulfi and belhpuri from the beach stalls.

The next day we caught a second class train to Nasik after taking a trip to fashion street where we haggled over underwear and watches.  Stopping for a fresh sugar cane juice from one of the many stalls around the city, we watched men in white play cricket in one of the large fields.  They were surprisingly bad for a country so obsessed with the sport.  Arriving at the station for our train we found a large crowd surrounding some Bollywood stars that were being filmed walking out of the station.  It was an appropriate ending to our Bombay experience.

Taking the second class train out of Mumbai was a cultural experience all in itself.  The berths were packed with people in the aisles, overflowing the seats and sitting on the upper benches with their feet dangling in the air.  Food and drink wallahs poured into the train at each station, navigating the mash of people with ease.  The wallahs would demand the attention of the passengers with a loud speech, handing out their goods and then collecting them when their spiel was over.  The train was also frequented by India's transexual community.  These rough men dressed in sarees are feared by many, who will part with their rupees to keep from being cursed and having their masculinity stolen.

Arriving in Maharastra's wine growing region around Nasik we expected a small town, but found ourselves in a bustling Indian city where we spent a couple of hours finding our way to a guesthouse with a French couple that were also shoestring travelers.  After negotiating through auto-rickshaw drivers' attempts to take us to the wrong place, hoteliers' inflated room tariffs, winding dark streets clogged with whizzing traffic, and a case of traveler's diarrhea, a group of very hospitable shopkeeps pointed us in the right direction, conferred amongst themselves, and then decided to give us a lift to a very nice and hospitable hotel.

We spent the next day wandering the town and visiting the temples around it associated with the Ramayana.  It is the place where the evil demon king Ravana's sister, Sarpanacha, espied Rama walking through the forest and fell in love with him.  She appeared as a beautiful woman to tempt the hero.  Rama's brother, Lakshmana, saw through her disguise and cut off her nose, which is Nasik in Sanskrit, to punish her for tempting the noble and betrothed Rama.  Ravana was told of this assault and flew from his palace in Lanka, modern day Sri Lanka, to steal Rama's fiancé Sita in recompense.  There are temples to mark the place of Sarpanaka's mutilation and the cave in which Sita hid from Ravana.

The next day we and the French couple took a trip out of town to Sula Vinyards, the first and largest vineyard in India.  The grounds were covered in meticulously trimmed and trellised grape vines with dry hills and sparkling blue waterways serving as a stark backdrop.  We took a tour of the production and storage facilities that ended with a tasting of a sampling of their wines.  They were very tasty and it was quite relaxing to sit back afterwards on their balcony overlooking the grounds sharing a bottle of high caliber wine.

We moved on again the next day to Aurangabad, a spread out busy city that served as our base for visiting the rock cut caves of Ellora.  Our first day there happened to be Holi, an Indian festival celebrated all over the north of the country where people cover each other with colored powder and water.  Just about every shop in town was closed up for the morning's festivities, except for the areas around the town's mosques where the Muslim residents mainly live.  The streets were lined with groups of Indian men, who would, depending on their degree of inebriation, either sedately dab your cheeks with color or smash it all over our faces and try to cop a feel of Amanda.

We made it to the town center after a couple hours walking the hot streets and only just caught a glimpse of the frenetic booze and bhang fueled mayhem when a man among the many police surrounding and containing the revelry forced us to leave, saying that women were not allowed.  It was a bit of a disappointment to be barred from the celebrations, but in light of the recent highly publicized rape cases in the country was probably the right thing to do.  Instead we hiked up to the tomb of Aurangazeb's wife, called the "Poor Man's Taj" in guide books due to its resemblance to the iconic Taj Mahal without the adornment or semiprecious stones.   It was a laugh to pose for pictures with all of the somber and uncolored domestic tourists in front of the stark white profile of the mausoleum.

After doing our best to clean the dye off, which stuck around for about a week anyway, we headed out to the Ellora Caves early the next morning.  They formed a complex of monastic retreats spanning hundreds of years and showcasing the changes in style as well as the enduring motifs associated with the region's shifting religions, starting with Buddhist monastic cells and then Hindu and Jain temples, which were defaced by Muslim conquers.  They were not only enduring examples of human ingenuity and skill, but also a compact lesson in religious shifts and the associated blending and breaks in style.

Moving on from Maharashtra the next day on a night bus was an experience, beginning with a beautiful descent from the Deccan Plateau through hills sparsely wooded with leafless trees and followed by a long night drive along the coast of Gujarat with the smoke stacks were illuminated by innumerable stars.  In the middle of the night we were woken from our bumpy sleep by the worst smell ever. Think of industrial waste, corpses, and low tide wrapped in a blanket of shit and left in the sun to putrefy.  The morning brought us to Ahmedabad, Gujarat's largest city and a steaming metropolis chock full of auto-rickshaws, mosques and endless sweet Gujarati thalis.

We spent one night and a short day there walking around the pollution clogged lanes of the old town, trying to find the tourist sights through the chaos of the markets and crowds.  We found several mosques that were peaceful respites from the hustle outside their gates.  Carved from stone with many pillars in their large prayer rooms these mosques are said to be some of the most beautiful in India, but we'll get back to you on that.

We also indulged at Gopi's Dining Hall, one the "best 50 restaurants to eat at in the world", which is famous for it's sweet and endless thalis. We stuffed ourselves with hot buttered rotis, rich curries, chutneys, raitas and sweet samosas, ending with a thick and rich chilled sweet that was a meal in itself.  Waddling out of the restaurant into the hot mess of city and walking 2 miles in the 100 degree heat was brutal.  But then we had an ice cream dinner and everything was better.

Amanda floats in front of the famous Taj Mahal Palace in Mumbai.

An opulent marble fountain in the center of Raj Era Bombay.

A dabbah wallah stops for a photo as he organizes the lunch boxes for his afternoon delivery.

Chettrapatti Shivaji Station, one of the most impressive British buildings in Mumbai.

Belhpuri and dahipuri from the beachside stalls in Girguan Chowpatty.  Each bite is a crunchy flavor explosion.

Amanda posing in front of some of the break waters that turned Mumbai's seven islands into one peninsula.

Wine tasting at Sula Vineyards outside of Nasik.

Colin getting pranked by the creepiest. guy. ever.

Our colors changed frequently throughout the day.  Here we stop for a break after getting kicked out of the mayhem.

Visiting the "Poor Man's Taj" in Aurangabad.  The holi colors were a nice contrast to the stark white.

Daulatabad fort outside of Aurangabad on our way to the Ellora caves.

Colin contemplating some of the freizes at the Ellora caves.

The Buddha sits meditating in a rib vaulted cave at Ellora.

Leaving the Deccan Platuea we were awarded with amazing views from our  double decker sleeper bus.  We were glad we didn't fall out of the window!

The busy streets of Ahmadabad.