Monday 30 April 2012

Jodhpur

After breakfast in the village we drove back through Jaisalmer and onwards to Jodhpur. Owing to an incredibly oppressive 45 degree heat that even the air conditioning could not seriously contend with, we spent most of the journey asleep in the car with multi-coloured scarves wrapped unskillfully around our pink faces. We did stop for a lassi on route (a mixture of yoghurt, ice cream, fruit, nuts and sugar), which was nice; "no ice please!"

When we arrived into Jodhpur we went straight to see the fort which was beautiful. We walked up to the top, stopping to pose for pictures with the many people that asked. At the top the view over 'the blue city' was suitably impressive:




Down in the city (not the cleanest to be found in Rajasthan) we walked from our hotel to the local bizar and did some shopping-spending most of our time sat drinking masala tea with some young boys who wanted to both practice their English and sell us their goods (we bought tea and handbags).



We had dinner on the rooftop of our hotel, had a beer and then went to take full advantage of our beautiful air conditioned room. 9 hours sleep here I come!

Sunday 29 April 2012

Udaipur

From Jodhpur we travelled to Udaipur-described as the romantic 'Lake city'. Our hotel came complete with a view over the lake from our room, and a roof top terrace perfect for sipping beers and taking in the view.




Though the city is small and safe to walk around in, the ensuing hassle from almost everyone either for money, pictures or both is beginning to grate a little at this point. I think as Udaipur would be a lovely spot just to sit by the lake and chill out if it were at all possible to even get a buttock cheek on a bench before being mobbed it adds to the frustration of being two white, young, female tourists in India.

But moaning aside, we went to the palace complex (after much confrontation at the ticket booth over what was, in retrospect, about $4 but we were convinced we could bargain our way to a more 'Indian' price) and took in the museum and views over the city.

We were reunited with Gabby, and this time we also met another Spanish couple, and an Argentinian brother and sister ('this is my sister' being the fastest line anyone has ever said lol). We went to a local show made up of a variety of traditional Rajasthani dances, which was actually really impressive and enjoyable, and followed this with dinner on another of Udaipurs many impressive roof tops.

Also worth a mention was Abby's Henna, which we went up into a local house for. Interesting to have a little nosey-it was very clean and tidy inside.



Saturday 28 April 2012

Pushkar

Pushkar is famous for two things (so I am lead to believe). Religion, and 'Bang Lassi'. The temple was underwhelming and the hassle almost unbearable. The Bang Lassi-no comment.




We did a lot of wandering around, sight-seeing, hanging out with locals and drinking lassi here. On our last evening we had dinner on yet another rooftop, chatting to some Indian men mostly about the climate up north.



Abby didn't like the vibe here; but to be fair she was headbutted by a cow, pissed on by a monkey and ripped off by an old woman all in under 24 hours so it's to be expected....


Friday 27 April 2012

Jaipur

Just flew in from the 'Pink city', the 'Pink city' was mighty pretty....

Jaipur was my favourite place so far. The addition of sidewalks and the faintest hint of a recognisable high street made the place seem in some way familiar, yet still with its own rustic Indian charm (cows, cow pat, rickshaws, tuk tuks, horns, pollution and litter). We went to visit...


The Amber fort:



and The Nahargarh fort:

(google image)


We went to a few other places I wouldn't necessarily write home about in our hardcore day of sight seeing including:
the palace of the winds:



the city palace complex:


the Jantar Mantar (observatory)


and the Jal Mahal (water palace).



We also unwittingly found ourselves in one of Jaipurs many 'textile facotires'. The winning formular for said place works as follows; a bus load of bewildered tourists are dropped off at a 'factory' for tourist tat, and within the next five minutes a group of expectant and dishonest salesmen will begin demonstrating local techniques for handicrafts. The tourists soon find themselves cohearsed into a feeling of gratitude for the show they didn't ask for, and a sense that they are now somehow indebted to the salesmen begins to take hold. At this point they will then be ushered into a large shop, offered drinks, asked disingenuous and rehearsed questions about where they are from etc, before the 'don't buy no problem just look' lines are soon replaced with extremely high pressured and pushy selling. The tourists are offered goods they could choose to go and barter for with local tradesmen in the market for a fraction of the price, yet they still cave in and buy thanks to the salesmen making them feel guilty if they don't, and the general confusion of the entire situation clouding a rational decision. As the tourists are then hearded back onto the bus, a wedge of cash ('comission') will be handed to the driver (interesting after the salesmen will inevitably of declared at some point in their pitch that they are selling their goods for almost 'no profit'), and the sightseeing tour will continue.
Knowing exactly what 'textile factory-just look very interesting place no buy is fine' meant I told Mohan Singh we did not want to go. He took us anyway, so I stuck to my guns and refused to buy anything out of principle.


Sight-seeing over, my favourite experience in Jaipur had to be the cinema! On arrival we went to see a Hindi film (Full House 2), which just about made sense despite the lack of subtitles, and loved the whooping, cheering and falling out of chairs laughing from the crowd. Much more equivocal to a rock concert back at home in terms of volume and atmosphere-a very good way to spend 90 rupees.



 

Thursday 26 April 2012

Agra (The Taj Mahal)



Finally we made it to our holy grail-the Taj Mahal. Both so overwhelmed by the beauty of the building we decided to pay the astronomical price of 750 rupees twice to see it at sun set on our night of arrival in Agra, and then to return the next day at sunrise.



Actually it was interesting to experience it at both times; the overwhelming crowds at sunset meant posing for an estimated 150 photo's for Indian tourists who wanted a holiday snap with some goras, and also meant risking life and limb being piled inside an already dangerously overcrowded building to view the morceleum hundreds at a time.



Sunrise, in contrast, was a picture of serenity, with far fewer crowds and those that were present being mainly other foreign tourists.



Wednesday 25 April 2012

Varanasi

In order to get to Varanasi we took an overnight train from Agra (our first experience of India's infamous railway). The station resembled a large warehouse full to the brim of people (often entire families) sprawled out on blankets and tarpaulin bedded down for the night. The platform sounded more like an Avery so full was it of birds, and the accumulated smell of urine, birds, rats, and general dirt made it smell like some sort of horror house pet shop.

The train coughed into the station shortly before its departure time and we spent a rather stressful ten minutes running up and down the aisles trying to locate our seats. Once this was done, despite being in a compartment (seperated only by a thin curtain) of 4 beds, we were greeted by 2 men happily sitting on Abby's bunk, two more on the bunk opposite, one above and one empty top bunk. As the station guard didn't ask them to move or even mention their presence as he said this is yours and walked off, we wound up sitting together on the top bunk presuming something was going on and the men would move soon. They didn't, so Abby went to sleep on her bed and wound up with an old man merrily perched at the foot of it. I yelled at a further two men who had the audacity to ask if they could sit on it too, who settled for taking a defiant picture on their ancient nokias. In hindsight we should of kicked them all out, but it was a poor train, no guards, and as I said we were confused as to whether they had overbooked the seats or if the men and simply opted for their own upgrade so we put up with it (I now suspect the latter was definitely the case).

After a highly distrubed sleep we arrived in Varanasi, where the porter who showed us to our hotel room hugged me (?) and had a short rest before going to see about a million Buddha temples. In the evening we went to a shop where we met a guy called Sam who turned out to be Jay Seans cousin, drank some beer and then went for dinner in Brownies (yummy).

  
The next morning we were up at 5am for a sunrise boat ride down the Ganges. Unfortunately the overwhelming smell of dirty stale water, human and animal urine and feaces, years worth of rotting rubbish foaming along every bank almost steaming in stench in the hot sun made the sight of hundreds of people bathing in it and rubbing it into every oraphus in their faces more squeamish than spiritual. Even the ghats just seemed a bit odd, with no people there just some dwindling fires being gauped at by tourists. Later that day the people of Varanasi were staging a strike in protest that the government needs to clean the river. I very much hope their efforts come to fruition because it is a huge issue. I also hope people will stop peeing all over the stairs and dropping litter all over the floor whilst in the middle of said protests!






This all being said, the sunrise itself was beautiful:







Tuesday 24 April 2012

Rishikesh

Upon arrival into Delhi train station we were pciked up by a very jolly Mohan Singh and piled into his car. The proceeding six hour drive northbound to Rishikesh was littered by inumerable accidents. We witnessed mainly the left over wreckage of freshly smashed vehicles, animal limbs and bike parts, but at one point saw a man being knocked off his bike by a speeding car (at which point Mohan Singh pressed the gas to the floor and explained "soon villagers are coming and stoning the car, much better we go now"). The total disregard for human life on the roads here has started to really bother me. The road is punctuated by overturned multi-coloured trucks that have seemingly invested more in the tinsel that makes them astechically pleasing to children than in replaced break pads, or more over driving lessons. Crunched up cars, tractors, and small groups of men sitting in vigil at the roadside mourning at the spot that boasts the latest casualty are so common place they soon stop evoking notice, and what's worse is that almost every crash feels so utterly avoidable if just the slightest hint of 'safety first' could penetrate the mindset of India's road users. This leads on to further thought on my part about the nature of death and the way it is so readily understood and accepted here in India, in comparison to the west where we are completely preoccupied with the preservation and protection of human life, and rarely acknowledge the frgaility or temporary nature of our time in this world with the overwhelmingly blunt and matter and fact attitude expelled towards it here. "Car is crashing, then going to the up, and if not then going to the Rishikesh", explains Mohan, whilst sweetly driving a good 10mph slower than the other road users to reassure his cargo of tourists (still a good 50mph faster than anything I'd be comfortable with on a road heavily scarred with pot holes the size of small crators).

Anyway, when the foothills of the Himalays and Gangas finally come into view it's a magic moment. This area of India is by far the most beautiful we have seen so far, and my first impressions of Rishikesh are good (driving aside). We go to haggle a price for a guest house (500 rupees each for two nights-completely with our own 'western' bathroom-deal), and then go to eat some delicious and cheap Thali at a local place.



In the morning we took a walk to the large bridge connecting our side of the river with the busier one, and then made our way to the top floor of our guest house for a two hour yoga session. I got given 'special needs' bricks to help with my inability to touch my toes without bending my knees, and probably injured some muscles I didn't know existed, and then as if I hadn't made a large enough fool of myself at this point completely dosed off in the meditation (they put blindfolds on you it's easy to do) awaking to find the whole room in the lotus position chanting Om with their hands clasped in prayer over their chests. I very swiftly smoothed my crazy hair back down and bolted up into said position, hoping noone had noticed. They all had.



After yoga we met up with Gabby and had some breakfast, then arranged to go white water rafting. Having never been before I can honestly say I think had it not of been for Abby sorting out my helmet, life jacket and explaining what on earth I was meant to do, I probably would of died. I think we all felt in the second rapids when the entire boat got submerged, everyone had abandoned paddling in favour of screaming and we were plummeting towards the rocks that we might not make it, but here we are. Woo. We were told after the final rapids, in a very casual tone, that 4 people had died the day before. Money first, fun second, safety last. Go up when God is willing, and until then live without concern to try and alter death fate. Maybe it's not such a ridiculous philosophy, just one that is alien to me. I consider the pain caused to the parents who were told they have lost children because of a senseless lack of health and safety, they think all death is not senseless, just an inevitable part of life no harder or easier to accpet depending on the circumstances (I say they, some people think this way, or so I believe).



Anyway, after rafting we went for dinner, then to the markets, then to take Gabby back, then back to the market, then to bed. We were up again in 4 hours at a ghastly 3.30 am to drive back to Delhi for a 12.30pm flight to GOA.....

Monday 23 April 2012

Goa





After one or two issues at the airport, we got to Goa in one piece and met a man named Noor who drove us the 1hour and 30 minutes to Anjuna Beach where our guest house was located.

Following a first night booking at internet price, we haggled an off season rate for the next few nights (250 rupees each-around £3) and set about exploring the area. We walked straight into a bollywood film set at the bottom of our road, and met an American man named Allen who offered to take us out for dinner and talk us through good places to go/ things to do in Goa.

We met Allen and his friend Usa that evening, ate dinner and had our first taste of alcohol that wasn't kingfisher beer since landing in Delhi 3 weeks ago. We then went to a club on the beach named Hippies in the name of 'having one quick drink and seeing what it was like'. This turned into partying all night at hippies until it was shut down, then on to primrose, then on the back of Allens motorbike to his and Usa's place before finally rolling into bed at 5am. We met a hoast of people in this time-Lucky, Brian, Pritesh, Dubai boy, Turkey girls, Damien, Johnny and a few others, and for the next few days we continued to bump into these people almost everywhere we went.

We rented motorbikes on our third day there, and used them to drive around to different beach areas, getting lost so frequently that we more often just cruised around and landed wherever. Again hassle meant the beach was impossible to relax on, but nothing compared to the never-ending onslaught of the north. We described Goa as the holiday from our holiday. A place for parties, beaches, hammocks, good resteraunts, markets filled with tourists, and private transport. Not indemic of the 'real' India, but certainly a great place to chill out between visits.


Riding the bikes
 
Shopping in a local market



If we had longer I would of loved to carry on to Keralla and see the south, and then go to the east, particularly Darljeeling. But alas, our time was up.

Back in Delhi Abby flew home and I spent a final night alone in a nice hotel. Met two interesting guys on the flight home and sat swapping stories with them for most of the flight.

And that was India, more or less....