Thoughts from a Camel

So a couple of days ago marked my one month anniversary of leaving Londontown!  It’s hard to believe that it’s been both so long and so short in the same breath.  Just like everything about India, the organised chaos, the friendly deceiver, the gorgeous disintegration, the crumbling grandeur, the beautiful disaster – my time away seems like another moment of contrast and contradiction.

Picking up where I last left off – the majestical glory of Udaipur.  Udaipur has a romantic setting unmatched in Rajasthan; fantastical palaces, temples and countless narrow, crooked, colourful streets.  Unfortunately say it is fair to say that my experience of the place didn’t quite live up to the expectation from the description.  After the lovely first night we had, we went to the City Palace.   which has more or less just been converted into a museum and was somewhat of a let-down.  I was with the Brits (Guy and Rach, as per my last post), and was awkwardly bored in what was meant to be the top sight in this much-raved about destination.  Which was all the more disappointing considering we had paid 500 rupees to get in (okay, it’s less than £6, but it’s a couple of nights’ accommodation here).  This high price was made all the more annoying by the fact that, as with absolutely everything in India, you pay far, far more than any local would for exactly the same thing – from tea to taxi’s to beer to palaces.  But this was an extreme case – local price = 10 rupees, foreign price = 500!  Plus the wanted an extra 200 rupees to take a camera in – foreigners only of course.  I saw it early and managed to hide mine whilst Guy and Rach had to stump up for that as well – sorry guys!!  Anywhere else in the world and it’d be called racist, but as anyone that has been or indeed has been following this blog will know by now – India has its own rules! 

Anyway, back to my awkward boredom.  I was doing my best, snapping away, wondering how long my new found friends would want to spend here in order to get their money’s worth.  I was slightly concerned that it was the first palace I’d been to and I really wasn’t filled with the awe and wonder that I felt I was meant to be – and there were a lot palaces around this area that were waiting for me!  (I since decided to draw the line, museums just bore me, and unless there a good photo opportunities I’m just not interested – call me ignorant, I’d rather be that then pay fortunes for dull experiences!).  So I was both very pleased and relieved when less than an hour into it, moving at a snail’s pace behind a throng of Indian tourists, that they tentatively broached how much longer I wanted to be there and grinning we all seized the opportunity and hustled our way out of there.

Feeling slightly cheated and a bit let down, in particular by Lonely Planet who can turn words into music of inspiration that often turn out to be somewhat out of tune, we moved on to our next plan, which involved a boat cruise, a converted palace hotel, an amazing lunch overlooking spectacular scenes, and a swimming pool to paddle in for the rest of the afternoon.  Sound idyllic?  Not so much!

First off we were told that we wouldn’t have enough time to catch the 2pm boat as it was 1.45pm (we would have), and that the next boat was at 3pm and would cost 200 rupees more (no explanation was given as to why that was the case).  I was in 2 minds at this point whether this was going to live up to expectations and wish I had have listened to my instincts, but like the lamb that I am of course I followed the Brits and handed over my cash with theirs.  Now with an hour to kill we headed over to the café for a drink and a nibble.  At least that was my intention until I saw the prices!  I know at this point with all this talk of money that I’m coming across cheap, but honestly, they were astronomical – basically more than London prices, but in India!  I was starving, but we decided to save ourselves and have a nice lunch over there, so I subsisted on water and free peanuts whilst Guy sucked it up and paid an exorbitant amount for a beer and Rach sipped an equally exorbitant fresh lime and soda.

So we finally head down to the water and jump on the boat, and admittedly our little cruise around Lake Picchola was quite nice, allowing us to get a little closer to those stunning buildings that made up the postcard perfect vew from our hotel.  We pulled up to the palace full of hope, stomachs rumbling, ready to eat and bathe, and entered the courtyard to find… nothing.  I mean, it was kind of pretty, there was an empty bar and empty chairs and a somewhat empty fountain surrounded by empty rooms – not a soul in sight.  Okay, secluded island, that’s pretty cool, we consoled ourselves.  Finally a turbaned man dressed all in white came and ushered us through a gateway.  Ahh, this is more like it!!  He starts showing us around the grounds, pointing at things to photograph, and then takes us to the beauty parlour where he starts explaining prices – out of the stratosphere, or at least on my budget being unemployed and travelling for the next 5 months.  After convincing him we weren’t going to be having any massage today, he took a wonky photo of us and led us back to the courtyard where we had arrived, and stuck his hand out for a tip.  At that point I had a few tips that I was prepared to give him, but none would have been polite and certainly none involved rupees! 

And where was the food?  I was starving and mildly grumpy (in that “this moment in my 6 months travel isn’t going exactly the way I want it kind of way = spoiled!).  And then we spied the menu… and then we saw the prices!!  Take out of the stratosphere and multiply it by infinity and then double it and you’d just about be there.  At that point we decided to get the hell out of there, across the water and back to the land of reasonable prices.  Of course the next boat was 20 minutes away so we sat in sullen silence as we waited to get back to the mainland.  And that basically sums up my time in Udaipur.  If you’re reading this and considering going please still do – it’s stunning, but there’s definitely no need to go across to the hotel/palace/island, that much is for sure!

So based on that experience I decided to jump ship at 8am the following morning to Jaisalmer – an old fort town in the middle of the desert way out west near the border of Pakistan. Arriving early evening, I kept my first night fairly easy with a couple of beers and playing cards with the owner and one of his colleagues.  The following day I went to a Jain temple, for me summarising everything that is wrong with religion these days – not just in India, but everywhere.  I could rant, but I won’t, but surely by the time a holy man has his hand out for a tip (having already paid an entry fee, might add), there’s something wrong with his definition of ‘service to God’?!  Anyway, I’m now not going to go into a temple/mosque/church/holy place unless it’s free and I can see locals practicing – not because I’m being cheap, but I just hate the idea that I’m literally ‘buying religion’.  It seems counter-intuitive to me. 

Now my story goes a little off-piste (sorry mum), as my next stop was ‘Dr Bhang’ for a ‘special Lassi’.  Lassi’s are awesome drinks, basically like smoothies but better.  The special part I’ll leave you to work out for yourself, but the next part of the day was pretty slow and pretty funny despite being fairly uneventful!

About 5pm it was time to get moving again – it was actually the guy at the hostel that made me haul ass and go see something, so it was off to the lake for me.  It was a pretty lake, but the weird thing about this lake is that it is absolutely rammed with catfish!  Like, millions of them.  For 8 rupees I bought a loaf of bread to feed them, and the frenzy was absolutely unreal. Enough said, have a look at the pics and you’ll get my drift. 

Having fed the fish I was just boosting around taking photos when I came across a Peruvian girl that I’d met earlier in the day at Dr Bhang, who was off to a puppet show and asked if I wanted to come along.  Pretty random thing to do in India, but who am I not to go along for the ride.  And it truly was one of the most bizarre experiences!  First we got taken around a tiny museum by the curator in painstaking detail, not really understanding him and trying to dodge the spittle flying from his mouth as he spoke - he was that close!  Eventually, thank god, we were saved by the show starting – we were only halfway through, but I was just about to poke my eyes out with the next item he thrust into my hands in his antique version of show and tell.  From there on in things just got weirder really – less so by the puppets, and moreso by a percussionist for the show playing some castanet-type things, having what looked like an epileptic fit as he played.  I can only assume he was dancing, but it was hilarious (without meaning to be) – I was trying desperately hard not to laugh out loud and to watch the show.  I have a video of it, too big to post, but let me know if you want to see it – it’s freaken funny!!

Having managed to escape the clutches of the curator at the end of the show who tried desperately hard to continue our tour after the show, we had a quick dinner and then it was off to some performance Leni (the Peruvian) had been told about at some stadium.  We hauled down a rickshaw and jumped in, excited as to what we were about to see.  We were delighted to see an awesome dance unfolding – kind of like an Indian dance troupe.  This lasted all of about 3 minutes after which time the dancing and music stopped and everyone in the space of about 20 seconds left the stadium.  Apparently the show was over!

The following day it was overnight camel safari time which I wasn’t initially going to do, but thought now that I was here and it was the main activity in Jaisalmer that it would be rude not to.  Five of us were bundled into a jeep – 2 Israeli guys, a Swedish couple and myself – and drive through the desert to meet our camels and guide Murat.  My camels name was Mandra, and he was the leader of the pack… literally he had to lead the procession otherwise apparently he would bite the other camels causing all sorts of frenzy!  Brilliant! 

We mounted our furry transportation and off we went, through stunning natural scenery – except for the massive wind turbines surrounding us in every direction we looked.  The saddest thing about this is that the villages in which the views they obscure and the land they disrupt do not actually receive the power that they generate, and many of the villages we rode through were completely powerless.  A different world!  But again we were always welcomed into their homes with genuine smiles and spirit. 

A couple of hours later and I was sitting watching the camels get unloaded from carrying everything we would need with our overnight excursion, blankets for Africa (or India as the case may be), as we were sleeping under the stars that night, all of our ingredients for meals, a massive chilly bin filled with water, and god knows what else – it was lunch time.  The camels had their 2 front legs loosely tied during down-time to ensure they couldn’t venture too far, and I was looking at the creatures faces thinking they couldn’t possibly be as stupid as they look (because they do look pretty stoopid!).  At that precise moment my camel just got finished being shackled, jumped up excitedly, and tripped over the stuff that had just been taken off his back and fell to his knees crushing everything beneath him!  Great, I’ve got the clumsy one – maybe they can be as stoopid as they look!

A delicious lunch of veg curry and potatoes and chappati later, and I learned that not only did I have the clumsy leader of the pack – I also had a very hungry, disobedient and somewhat spiteful camel.  Mandra frequently ignored both mine and the guide’s commands (me by reigns of rope, the guides by weird clicks and calls – we each had our own camel), and hunkered over to what appeared to be his favourite flavour of tree and munched away slowly and precisely, not worried that he was being told to hurry up and keep walking.  He also had what I suspected may have been an intentional habit that instead of giving trees and bushes (particularly the thorned ones of which there were plenty) a wide enough berth to prevent us from being impaled, that he was quite happy to just mosey on through the thorns like a martyr, shredding my legs and arms and almost one time my face in the process.  

At one point I was trying to get out my notebook from my bag as he walked, and all of a sudden, and again I can’t help but feel his timing was no coincidence, he decided to bolt.  Now, it’s fair to say that a running camel is no Usain Bolt, however by the time you have an open bag in one hand, desperately trying to not lose all your stuff in the desert whilst seated on a rebellious cantering camel and somewhat lacking in rodeo experience, I was fairly pleased when he eventually found a bush to have a munch, and I had managed not to lose anything or fall off.  Mandra and I were best buddies!!  And it turns out you can’t write while riding a camel anyway!  I have to say though, that between the thorns and detour munchies it was a very peaceful if slightly uncomfortable (especially for the boys) experience, riding the animal surrounded by natural beauty, the only sounds being birds and goats and the clicking guide.

Eventually we made our sand-dune destination and it was time to set up camp, enjoy the sunset, eat and go to bed… surrounded by big black beetles!  Bed was literally just blankets under the stars, and full and happy I gazed up at the stars and listened to the peace and quiet and wondered what you were all doing at that exact same moment and hoped you were as contented as I was.  And then for the next 8 hours I listened to Israeli snoring!  Peace and quiet indeed!

The next day passed more or less as the previous – the standard camel-trek day with no major mentions or mishaps, and all too quickly after another stellar feed on an open fire the jeep turned up to take us back to the city.  For me to high-tail it to the 8 hour bus ride that awaited me to get to Pushkar.  Unfortunately the roads were horrendous as they are in most of India, so sleep was not forthcoming, so by the time I arrived at my destination at 3am I was one very tired puppy.  There were only 2 tuk-tuks to greet 3 sets of travellers, and whilst the others haggled over the price I agreed my 50 rupee fee to get to the hostel I’d been recommended and jumped in.  We couldn’t have gone more than 500m when he pulled over and pointed to the hostel, but I was too tired to argue so I scowled at him, scolded “bad business”, chucked 50 rupees at him and entered the gate that was slowly opening for me by an equally sleepy hostel worker.   Thankfully they had a room and I stumbled into bed and promptly fell asleep.

On waking it was time to check out Pushkar and see what delights it had in store for me.  After a fairly slow morning and still being fairly sleepy I ambled down the main street trying to avoid the touts eye contact and generally not be harassed – easier said than done in India, let me assure you!  Pushkar is a holy pilgrimage town full of lakeside temples and bathing ghats, and devout Hindus should visit at least once in their lifetime.  Of particular note is Ghandi Ghat, where the great man’s ashes were sprinkled.

I muddled around the bazaar for a bit and then down to the lakeside to take some particularly average photos, and decided it was food time.  I made my way up to a rooftop restaurant that had been recommended, and sat there for the rest of the afternoon enjoying stunning views and the episodic soundtrack of chanting, drums and gongs, and devotional songs amidst the never-ending honking of rickshaws and motorbikes joining in the chorus. 

The following day I decided I needed to make a bit more of an effort and hired a scooter to go and check out another lakeside temple and generally have a boost around to see the sights.  It’s fair to say that didn’t go particularly well – I drove around for about 2 hours looking for the temple of which nobody had heard of.  Eventually I decided to give up and try and find the second temple the hostel guide had recommended, and managed to not find that either.  I pulled over in a roadside forest and sat under a tree to relax for a bit, reminding myself it’s “the journey and not the destination” and feeling sure that the saying was invented by someone completely lost!   Eventually I decided to call it a day and head back to the hostel.  Disappointingly when I went to start my bike it was absolutely dead, and I was quite far from town in the middle of nowhere!  Brilliant!   Thankfully I flagged a couple of guys on a bike down and after about 10 minutes persistence of them kick-starting the s**t out of it, with me looking on thinking they were crazy for continuing and that there was no way it was going to work but also having no alternative, it eventually revved into gear!   And then, for some reason unbeknownst to me, they then switched it off and tried it with the button start… Which of course didn’t work…  WTF?!?!  So they went back to kick-starting, with me looking on thinking as kind-hearted as these guys were for helping me they were also idiots, and about another 10 minutes later they managed to get it going again.  I more or less shoved them out of the way to make sure they didn’t turn it off again, revving the hell out of the motor and thanking them profusely for their help and roared off (in as much as an ancient 100cc scooter can roar) in the direction of town.  Not wanting to risk getting stuck again, particularly as I’d had to give the bike shop a 2000 rupee deposit, it was straight back to the hostel for me, a quick dinner, and early to bed ready for an early start and a long day.

At 5.30am the next morning my alarm rudely awoke me – it was time to climb a (very small) mountain to see a temple and watch the sun rise.  Given my failure at the temples the previous day, I was a little dubious at the directions I’d been given, but only those that make the climb enjoy the view and all that, so I decided I should give it a shot.  I awoke to no power (that’s a very regular occurrence in India, at least once a day everywhere I’ve stayed, power cut to be conserved by the government – again, a different world).  So by the light of my Poundland torch which is still going strong, I managed to dress and creep out into the night.  About 5 minutes from my hostel I stopped for chai and to ask for directions and was lucky enough to find 2 other French tourists who were walking up a different mountain to see a different temple for the sunrise, and they had a map, so I abandoned my plan and went with them instead.  Alain, the guy, had cycled all the way from France to India over 5 months, was cycling all over India, and had a trip plan that extended for 2 years! 

A few wrong turns and misdirection later and we managed to find the steps to get us up to the temple.  Unfortunately due to some other annoyingly placed hills we really weren’t in a great place to see the sunrise, but it was a lovely view of the town nonetheless.  After an awesome breakfast it was back to the hostel for me to board yet another long haul bus journey, this time to Bundi.  This was the first time I was required to put my pack on the roof.  I somewhat nervously climbed up with my pack on my back – no mean feat given how much the thing weighs, tied it on as best I could, and clambered onto the bus which was absolutely rammed.  Despite the fact I was meant to have a seat there wasn’t a hope in hell, so I was thrilled at the prospect at standing for 8 hours along the bumpy road.  Fortunately there was a stop about 45 minutes in where a lot of the rabble disembarked, so I quickly parked up and didn’t move.  Very relieved to have a seat, I pulled out my laptop to chill and watch a movie, and with about 12 Indians peering over my shoulders also watching, the hours passed by relatively easily. 

At the other end I jumped into a rickshaw with a Spanish couple and we were whisked away to a touts guesthouse.  As I put my pack down to go check the room the first thing I saw was a rat scurry under the fridge.  The room was alright, but the rat set the tone, and by the time I was showed the rooftop restaurant (sounds fancy, it’s not, they all have them and they’re always fairly decrepit), and my escort literally jumped in front of me as a throng of the “aggressive monkey types” poured over the roof, I said my thank yous and left to find the hostel that was my original plan.

Not knowing which way to walk, but not feeling like I could ask the rat and monkey infested owners about one of their competitors I wandered down the street wondering about a plan of attack.  Of course it wasn’t long before the lost looking tourist with her pack on attracted attention, and of course when I asked which way to the guesthouse I had in mind I was promptly told by my “helper” that he also had a very nice guesthouse just across the road.  It was more than I wanted to spend, and I try to avoid being accosted by touts as it rarely works out, and I was very surprised that once I explained this (the cost point, not the accosted one), he got out his cell phone to call the guesthouse to see if they had rooms, wifi, the price of the room and whether they could come and pick me up!  Now, I don’t want to sound sceptical here, but after a month in this country it is not often that a local goes out of their way without expecting something in return.  He said they were coming in 10 minutes, at which point I was so blown away that he was actually being genuinely nice that I asked him to show me his room whilst I waited.  The place had a lovely vibe, all of his family was in the lounge, they had wi-fi, and I was assured there was hot water which would be the first time in a month and there wasn’t a mouse in sight – sold.

Sitting up on their rooftop I heard an Aussie twang and excitedly bounced over to a group of 3 and asked to be their friend.  So I spent a happy night with a few beers and a lot of laughs with an Aussie chick, an English lad and a Polish girl – like the start of a bad joke.

The following day I met them for breakfast and it was tourist-time – off to see the Fort and Palace of Bundi.  Bundi itself is an absolutely stunning place with a magical atmosphere, yet has nothing like the swarms of tourists that the bigger cities in Rajasthan attracts – an untouched gem.  I hadn’t even heard of it, I was very fortunate to take the advice of Maddy whom I met in Hampi who said it was her favourite place in Rajasthan, and I can easily say that hands down it was also mine.

After the sightseeing was ticked off (I really don’t need to see another Fort or palace for the rest of the trip!), and an awesome thali that had me absolutely stuffed, we wandered around the frantic bazaars with the locals buzzing around getting ready for Diwali.  Diwali is a Hindu festival and India’s biggest, which is really saying something in a country with as many festivals as India – basically it’s their Christmas, so it’s really special to be here for this.  Every shop, hotel, petrol station, tree – basically everything around is covered in fairy lights – I’m really looking forward to see what happens tomorrow (at the time of writing) – 13 November.

Anyway we arrived back to the guesthouse for a late dinner and a couple of drinks before my newfound friends caught their bus to Udaipur at 1am.  The following day I went to a lovely waterfall over what had to be India’s worst road (and most of them are fairly rough!) for an hour and a half.  Honestly, the bumps and potholes were something else and halfway through I was starting to wonder if it were worth it and thanked god I didn’t get car sick.  Then it was off for yet another overnight bus journey, this time 12 hours (so I was told when I booked it, it took 18 hours) to get to Delhi, to spend the day there and then take another 12 hour bus ride up to Dharamsala, home to the Dalai Lama – spiritual leader of Tibet, arriving on the morning of Diwali.

The first bus ride to Delhi was awful, it was seated as opposed to sleeper, and my seat was broken so the back wouldn’t stay up much to the annoyance of the woman who was stuck sitting behind me and kept shoving the back of my chair.  The bumps were horrendous and sleep was miniscule if at all, not exactly the state I wanted to turn up to the pandemonium that is Delhi.  I thankfully managed to book my bus to Dharamsala, as I was hoping like hell I wasn’t going to get stuck in Delhi for Diwali, but all sailed smoothly in that department.  I got a pushbike rickshaw to the famous bazaar in Old Delhi which was pretty funny, but made me feel pretty lazy and guilty.  I really wasn’t up for the chaos though, so I slunk into a restaurant and had a long and drawn out lunch - having not eaten since 7pm the night before I was starving!

It took 3 rickshaws and an hour to get me back to the bus station which I had walked from, each one charging me way too much and not actually getting me back to my desired destination.  Thank god I'd given up on the bazaar early or I would have missed my bus and been one unhappy camper.  Maybe it was just the tiredness, but Delhi is very much a love-hate by travelers, mostly the latter, and I don't really feel like after my first experience that I'm going to go out of my way to spend too much more time there before I leave.  I did finally manage to find the tour agency, I had booked onto a "Volvo" bus (not sure why the brand matters, but it's definitely nicer than the last one I was on with the broken seat, that much is fo'sho!).  Before we actually got on the bus however, we were escorted from the agency - 8 other Indian guys and me - and piled into some clapped out no windowed jeep that we barely all fit into.  At that point I just about lost my sh!t - much to the amusement of the guys!  It was then explained that we were only going 20 minutes in the vehicle to get us to our bus - thank the Lord!

So I am now sitting in the bus tapping away, and really hoping to get some solid sleep as I’m exhausted! 

Ok, it’s now the next day and I’m in Dharamsala.  I arrived at 6am this morning having barely slept again all night unfortunately.  So I’m in a café skulling coffee about to go and check this place out and see if I can find a meditation retreat which I’m very nervous and excited about.  Potentially I’m going to do a Vipassana course, which is a 10 day silent retreat which is pretty hard-out but I have heard many times over is completely life-changing!  I’m not sure yet if the dates are going to work, and equally unsure if I’m going to be disappointed or relieved if they don’t – tune in next time!  And then I have a Diwali party to go to tonight with an American guy that lives here that I met in Goa – no idea what that entails but I’m sure if I can stay awake it will be fun!

I hope you are all happy and well!  Happy Diwali everyone!!

xxx

PS:  Wyatt – I smashed 4,000 words this time – hope you’re proud!! x

Here's some images from Mumbai that I hadn't downloaded for my last post, as well as images from the post above - enjoy x

Chaotic local train journey at rush hour

Dot in the sleeper train to Mumba

Jin and I at Elephanta Island

Boats in Mumbai harbour - lovely and colourful

View of Gateway to India and British Imperial building from the boat over to Elephanta

Little train to save the 5 minute walk to the entrance!  We walked

"Beware of the monkeys, they may attack and harm you" - Brilliant!
Indians - 10 rupees
Foreigners - 250 rupees!

The rubbish all over India is such a shame - it's everywhere, they must be killing their beautiful country from it :(

The grey from all the smog in Mumbai - the smog all over the country is a sign of the destruction of the country's ecology

Guy and Rach on the train from Mumbai to Udaipur

Train ride scenery - it still amazes me how beautiful this place is!

Dot having a beer on the rooftop restaurant of my hotel... from a teapot!

Stunning Udaipur - the view from my rooftop restaurant

HOW do they do that?!

Another temple

At the Palace in Udaipur

Our boat in Udaipur

Udaipur

Fun with black and white - Guy and Rach on the boat in Udaipur

Guy

The other Rach

The Hotel/Palace in Udaipur

Post boat-ride in Udaipur

Crazy tiny Jodhpur streets

Jodhpur Fort

Wide-eyed innocence if ever I've seen it

SHOES!! (in Jodhpur market)

Jodhpur sunset - the Fort

Just inside Jodhpur Fort

Jodhpur - the 'Blue' City

Fancy bong they used to smoke opiates from

The Blue City

Dot imagining what it would be like to be carried
 in one of these!

Jaisalmer lady

Cute Jaisalmer village kids

Dot at Jaisalmer Lake

Puppet time!

Only photo from the 2 minutes of the performance we saw at the stadium in Jaisalmer

Girl practicing tight-rope walking in the middle of the street - as you do?!

Jeep out to the desert for the trek

Loading the beast up

Jaisalmer Camel trek (obviously!)

Great angle - FAT FACE!!

Murad our guide cooking up a gastronomical delight!

These are some of the thorns that ripped me apart - I wish I had taken photos  of my legs afterwards

YeeeHAAAHHH!!!

Desert setting sun

Dot and Mandra

Hehehe

Ya gotta admit - they do look stoopid! (sorry Mandra!)

Village lady

Village lady's daughter - apparently that's her photo face!