TravelStream™ news feed for member owain on TravelPod's free travel blogs service http://www.travelpod.com/syndication/rss/owain en-us Copyright ©2010 TravelPod.com Fri, 03 Jul 2009 08:56:43 -0400 http://www.travelpod.com http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/owain/1/1246625743/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/owain/1/1246625743/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/owain/1/1246625743/tpod.html Fri, 03 Jul 2009 08:56:43 -0400 India

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Leh, Jammu and Kashmir, India


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Manāli, Himāchal Pradesh, India

Leaving Delhi behind, I was already in high spirits as the air-conditioned coach pulled out of the bus stop. I made myself comfortable, a little apprehensive in the knowledge that this would be my seat for the next 14 hours or so. I sat idly, looking at the unremarkable Delhi scenery drift by. I had thought that my district of choice - Paharganj had been rough, but with each slum that passed us by, my perspective differed greatly. The journey continued - out of the city through the suburbs passing even more desperate looking dwellings. Save for one deeply embarrassing episode, whereby it was agreed unanimously by everyone on the coach that I was a complete lunatic, no thanks to Bill Bryson's best efforts and my innability to stop laughing, the journey passed without incident.
It was many hours later, and dark outside, when the trip took an interesting turn. Its possible that I was dozing, or not paying particular attention, but suddenly it registered in my brain that we were in the mountains. Seemingly out of nowhere, we took an abrupt turn onto a steep road, and kept going at this angle for a number of miles. I was suddenly excited: I could see the lights of villages high up in the surrounding mountains, so high in fact that at first I mistook them for stars. My eagerness grew as daylight came, and I was awarded the spectacle of the mountainous regions of India. I will remind you that until now, I have been city-bound throughout my trip and the closest thing resembling a mountain I'd come across was the hill on top of which stood the Monsoon Palace - not exactly worthy of what I was witnessing now. Practically bouncing in my seat and no doubt gaining a few stern glances from fellow coach travelers, cementing their initial diagnosis of the state of my mind, I noticed the coach slowing to a halt at a roadside cafe/rest area. Outside, the passengers sat idly chatting away, keeping their distance. As I was busying myself with a cup of Chai, I was fast approached by a peculiar young man. Adopting the ostentatious "camp" gait, he flopped his way over to me. I couldn't help realise the imbalance of his barrel-chest to his short, spindly legs. Across his face was plastered a vacant but sincere smile, and his eyes were two different colours. I was in trouble here. As it turns out, he was American, and so found it necessary to point out that this was the best time for me to visit Ladakh, "North India" he added helpfully. Yes, I thought, especially as the passes to Leh, closed throughout the rest of the year, tend to open around June/July. I nodded in silent agreement. Then came an in-depth account of every effort from the Indian population to scam him out of a few Rupees.
"You've got to laugh eh?" I ventured with a smile.
"Well no, actually, I don't think its very funny at all. Its against the law" he answered, in all seriousness I might add. My attention was drawn to his flailing arms and petulant pose, and just as I began to wonder the purpose of this seemingly hostile conversation, he started complaining about the sleeping conditions aboard the coach. I busied myself further with the Chai, staring at it intently.
"Its a real drag, I'm in the aisle seat. I'd be ok with a window or someone to rest my head on, y'know?"
Now, most of you know me, and in a way I pride myself on being tolerant. Of course I had no problem with this fine young American gentleman, whatever his sexual preference. I will hazard a guess though, and this is only a guess, that the Northern-Indian locals (predominantly a Muslim population) do not share my liberal views on the matter and so, decided to make myself scarce lest they get the wrong idea and have me hung, drawn and quartered or worse, imprison me. (Trust me, the jails are dreadful) "Yes... Quite" I said as casually as possible, slowly rising to my feet. I took a step.
"Where you goin'?" he inquired. "Christ" I thought, "Norman Bates meets Deliverance" Not missing a beat, I muttered "Oh, y'know, the apple juice needs..." and deftly scarpered without causing too much of a scene. Having gained sufficent distance from the unhinged individual, I sat down again to concentrate on my Chai. Eager not to end up as a lampshade, I kept my distance throughout the journey and thankfully avoided being... Engaged further.
When we finally arrived at Manali, I'd forgotten about my new friend and simply gawked in awe at the scenery. It was arresting to say the least. Having stepped off the coach, I headed into town to find some accommodation. Seeing that the prices were steep and many hotels full, (many Indian tourists also visit Manali this time of year) my heart sank. It was then saved thankfully as I happened upon a small town 2km north of Manali called "Old Manali". Here I found very decent accommodation for 2 pounds a night, and settled on the balcony with a cold beer from the kitchen. Seeing the sun set behind the green mountains, the distant Himalayan peaks... Well, in the distance... I was once again overcome with a sense of relaxation and happiness.
I coulnd't wait to explore the towns and entertain such possibilities as fishing in the nearby Beas River.
As was becoming the habit, I found myself recovered by the calmess of Manali, and the memories of Delhi began to empty from my brain.

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Delhi, India

I passed the 4 hour train ride from Agra to Delhi in the company of perhaps the coolest Frenchman I have ever met. He introduced himself as "Benjamin", shaking my hand vigorously. I noted that he was of the "hardcore traveler" type - wearing only a pair of flip-flops, shorts, a rag fashioned into a shirt and a woolen sack slung over his back. We exchanged the boring pleasantries, and eventually got down to the real issue - what was his story?
It turns out, Benjamin had arrived in Kashmir earlier this year, in January. He informed me that he, like me, used to be geared up to the teeth with his rucksack, medical supplies, emergency equipment and so on. He then decided to sell all this meaningless stuff and started from scratch, as it were. He made himself the shirt from a rag, the sack from some material and that was that - he set off, walking the length of India, sleeping outdoors every night under the stars, drinking from the streams and surviving on 100 rupees a day (approximately 1.25 pounds)
I was completely mesmerised with the man's story, staring at him in bewilderment as he shrugged off his achievement bashfully. He walked for 5 months, ending up in Kerala, which is basically as far south as you can go. We parted ways in Delhi, no doubt I'll never see him again but I think I'll remember his story for a long time.

Anyway, back to my trip, Delhi was a nightmare. The usual - hot, bustling and with an emphasis on hassling tourists. It came as no surprise then that after a couple of days I fell ill and was once again confined to my dingy hotel room. Before I go into detail, there is one other story I'd like to share from my first day in Delhi, and a visit to Connaught Place.

Connaught Place - a confusingly cosmopolitan centre situated less than 1/2km from the area where I was staying - Paharganj. Now, Paharganj, bless its ragged, shit-strewn streets, is a rough diamond of sorts. Complete with the dodgy characters, the rat-infested accommodation and more beggars than you'd ever be likely to shake a stick at, it certainly doesn't appeal to everyone. Imagine my surprise then, when I stumble across the booming hub that is Connaught Place - boasting chain superstores like Adidas and contemporary cafes serving frothy Mochas and iced tea. I gazed in awe, suddenly feeling rather shabby in my worn t-shirt and dirty trousers. Mere minutes before, I had practically beaten away a begging child while side-stepping a pile of cow manure and politely refusing to "visit gift shop, 10 minutes sir". Now I was under scrutiny from Delhi's elite - youngsters in trendy, western-style clothing parading around with flashy mobile phones and glittering high-heels. This was strange. Very strange. I suddenly felt the urge to be back in the grime. Instead of being comforted by the familiar sights of home - the bright lights and big brand names, I felt ultimately detached and saddened as I saw the odd homeless person who'd ambled into this modern, alien world - shuffling between streets adorned with Nike and McDonalds. The contrast was a stark one.
I refused to go to McDonald's of course, but still smiled inwardly at the thought of waltzing in and ordering a triple-cheeseburger with extra fries and milkshake. At that moment a group of young Western "traveler" types, clad in matching saris and henna tattoos stomped past, scowling at the fast food chain. Certain that I'd seen hunger in those eyes, a relaxing of the jowls, possibly a bead of sweat on the furrowed brow, I chuckled to myself, then left before I became stuck too far up my own arse.

As you already know then, I was sick. I'm sure you won't protest to me sparing the details - suffice to say I was 'stranded' in my hotel room for at least a couple of days. I realised that everything is a huge effort when you're ill here - even walking outside your hotel room becomes something of a feat. My thoughts turned to those at home and, duty-bound, I realised I should perhaps contact my mother to let her know that I was still alive. I waited patiently until I felt confident enough to venture outdoors, and staggered on wobbly legs into the hotel lobby and out into the street. Minutes later I was to be found leaning on a wall, watching with morbid fascination as a dog hurriedly lapped up the small pool of bile I'd only just produced, eyeing me with guilty resignation. We shared a connection then and there - we were without shame - resigned to our roles as dirty street dwellers. I thought vaguely of Tom Waits before spitting out another mouthful. I was patted then on the shoulder by a passer-by. "No worry, chicken curry" he said sagely. I had time to shoot him a bleary eyed grin of appreciation before the word "curry" registered in my psyche, causing me to double-over and provide my new canine friend with dessert.

As I recovered, I realised how little I'd done in Delhi. Being more or less half way through my trip, I felt positively fed up with sight seeing and the like. It then occurred to me that in fact, I had done absolutely nothing in Delhi - and absolutely nothing is exactly what I'd needed to do.

It was with a new wind and a positive feeling that I booked my bus ticket to Manali - far North of Delhi, it should be considerably cooler and infinitely more interesting. Only time will tell!
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Agra, Uttar Pradesh, India

Relieved to be leaving Jaipur behind, I arrived at the railway station at 5.30am. It struck me as I located my cabin, dumped my bag and purchased a cup of chai through the window how casual the experience had become. Previously the task of boarding a train - making sure its the right platform, the right train, finding the correct cabin, keeping an eye on the clock, had been a hectic one. Evidently practise does make perfect as now, I hardly break a sweat while climbing aboard and seating myself.
Fearing the worst as the train pulled into Agra Fort station, I stepped outside and braced myself for a torrent of touts and rickshaw-wallahs. Surprisingly, my arrival did not prompt the frenzy I had anticipated. I hailed a rickshaw and breathed a sigh of relief as the driver silently agreed to take me to my hotel - the Sai Palace Hotel.
According to my guidebook, Agra has "little to offer" apart from the Taj Mahal, but having walked around for a snoop, I would have to disagree. Staying in the Taj Ganj area of Agra, hotels, restaurants, cafes and siops are situated close to one another, and there's the advantage of being close to the Taj Mahal. There's a nice atmosphere here, and although it has it's fair share of touts, Agra has pleasantly surprised me.
I spent the first day exploring Agra - seeing the minor sights such as the "Baby Taj" and Jama Masid - all impressive in their own right, but of course the purpose of my visit was to visit the Taj.
And so, on the second day, I awoke at 5.30am. Having had a few glasses of Whiskey the previous night - watching cricket with the hotel owner and his friends, the wake-up call was less than welcome. Remembering why I had awoken so early, I practically jumped out of bed and into the shower. Less than a quarter of an hour later, I was entering the East gate and approaching what has to be one of the most stunning things I've ever seen. The garden, though a little more crowded than I'd hoped, led the way to the 180 foot marvel that, despite having seen the mausoleum pictured a hundred times, did not fail to set my heart racing. I couldn't stop grinning as I walked towards the spectacle, and the sheer size really did overwhelm me, as all the reviews and guidebooks promised. I spent over an hour walking around, admiring, taking photos, and finally (a little reluctantly) left.
I returned to my hotel room to have another shower and scroll through my pictures. Next I made my way to Agra Fort. The rich maroon walls of the fort were visible from miles away and as I got closer, the size of the structure surprised me as much as the Taj had. Inside were numerous mosques and palaces. A lovely spot was where the Maharaja had requested a room be built for him and his wife to sit and observe the Taj Mahal in the distance. The room was designed so that the wind could enter from 3 sides, resulting in the coolest sitting area of the fort.
More than satisfied with my brief visit to Agra, I have now booked a train ticket to Delhi.
Feeling the way I do now, writing this blog, I am very excited and eager to conquer Delhi - arguably the most hectic and busy city in India. As you well know, however, my mood is prone to sudden changes, and so perhaps I will not be so buoyant in my next blog entry!

Thanks to all for sticking-to and for your comments!
Diolch


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Jaipur, Rajasthan, India

As our 5.00pm train pulled away from Jaisalmer station, I settled back and watched the golden landscape slip by. The train picked up some speed, cool air whipped in through open, barred windows and once again I felt the relaxing calm I had experienced sleeping out in the desert. The sun was setting beautifully and my spirits soared as I actually looked forward to the 12 hour train ride ahead of me.
A few hours into the trip, Saki - my female travel companion showed me a passport photo and signaled that it was her, two years previously. I smiled encouragingly and nodded an enthusiastic "OK".
She began to giggle. I laughed, in turn. Kazuma then explained that, alas, the photo was not of Saki, but indeed of her friend back home in Tokyo. I bit my tongue short of cracking out the classic "Gee I don't know - you folks all look the same to me" and was suddenly glad that I would be once again traveling alone once we reached Jaipur - Rajathan's Capital City.

Suffice to say my spirits did not survive the 12 hour journey, and once we reached Jaipur I no longer resembled the happy-hippy-traveler-type, much more the disgruntled figure of a middle-aged man. I bid Kazuma and Saki farewell, happy travels, etc. and set off into the 5.00am madness of Jaipur. I had no idea that any place could be so busy at such an early hour, but once again, India has pulled another fast one on me.
The word I would use to describe Jaipur is tenacious. The hassle-factor has reached and all-time high, which as a result, has made the most simple of tasks (i.e. walking to the shop to purchase a bottle of water) a marathon that strains body and mind. Wading through the loud, tenacious, in-your-face public of Jaipur's railway station car park, I decided that my time spent here would be short.
I located my hotel - the Atithi Guesthouse and walked inside, much to the disgust and bewilderment of the touts that had followed me from the railway station. Again, due to the season, I got a very nice room cheap, and was relieved to find a functioning shower that actually rivals mine back home!
Rested and restored, I ventured out to explore my surroundings. I was more than eager to sample the delights of the Pink City until, no more than 100 yards down the road from my hotel, I found myself once again swamped and being hounded by locals. The experience is draining to say the least, and although I consider myself to be a relatively relaxed person, I could certainly feel my patience fraying as I said for the 10000th time - "NO"
I soldiered on, however, ultimately relying on petulant techniques such as answering in Welsh and stating in my thickest North-Walian accent "No Engleesh". This seems to be effective, albeit very childish - I am not proud.
I visited the Old City - its bustling bazaars and winding side-streets make for nice walks, though the heat is close to unbearable at times and again, tenacious locals are a pain. The City Palace, erected in the 1700s, was an interesting visit - here I saw the halls of Maharaja Sawai Jai Singh who, according to the audio guide - was something of a hero - insisting on cleaning his own laundry, wrapping his own turban and on occassions, cooking his own meals; the founder of Jaipur is held in high regard. I also saw the largest Silver object in the world - enormous water jugs used for the Maharaja's visit to the UK. Which was nice.
My third day in Jaipur, and I decided to visit to Amber fort. Although the Mughal era forts do tend to be very similar, I was still hugely impressed with this one. Towering on a sheer cliff-edged mountain, the Amber palace stood proudly - the surrounding fort walls snaking up impossibly steep cliff faces. I walked along the walkways up the mountain and had some stunning views of the palace below, the jagged mountains and Jaipur in the distance.
My friendly rickshaw-wallah took me back to the city and to the stunning temples of Gatore Ki Chhatriyan. Here I had an opportunity to take off my sandals, walk on the cool marble and sit in absolute peace. I decided to leave when a local boy spotted me and demand that I give him
"20 Rupees"
"No"
"Ok. Your watch"
More than ready to leave Jaipur, I made my way to the railway station, where I booked a ticket for Agra - departure 6.10am tomorrow.
And so ends my short yet already-too-long stay at Jaipur.
I am now more than ready to reach the cool, laid-back areas of the North. I just sincerely hope that I can survive Agra and Delhi without having either a mental breakdown or a massive heart attack.

(exaggeration!)

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Jaisalmer, Rajasthan, India

Approaching the Jaisalmer express (no. 4810) on platform 2, I discovered I was an hour early. Having located my berth and dumped my bag, I set off in search of a cup of chai to pass the time. As I loitered outside the cabin, I saw a young oriental gentleman standing outside and looking quizzically at his train ticket. I approached him and informed him that this was indeed carriage 2 and that his no.74 sleeper berth happened to be next to mine. He introduced himself as Kazuma from Japan, and despite extreme language difficulties we managed to have a quick chat before the lights went off at 11.30 and the train began moving.
Six hours later we pulled into Jaisalmer Railway station and as I stepped outside, bleary-eyed, I could see Kazuma in the back of a jeep, waving to me. We had a lift into town and checked into a local guesthouse. As there are practically no tourists here now, the rooms rates are dirt-cheap - costing a measly 1.15 pounds for a single with bathroom, ceiling fan, air cooler and balcony. I didn't have the heart to haggle.
Sipping complimentary chai on the roof, we watched the morning sun bathe the golden city and at once I was mesmerised. The grand fort raises from the ground like a giant sandcastle and looms over the maze-like streets below, and from the rooftop you can see the edges of the city, beyond which lies the vast Thar desert. As Kazuma was heading to the fort, we arranged to go together and set off to see the sights. As the day wore on I began to suspect that Kazuma didn't understand a single word I was saying, and what I took to mean nods of interest or agreement were in fact polite gestures without meaning. Nevertheless, we got on famously and proceeded to visit the fort and a couple of Havelis (houses of the rich) which were beautifully ornate. Having explored the narrow streets and passages within the fort we returned to the hotel via the lake, where a prostitue once built a Jain temple, which still stands today. After returning to the hotel, we discussed Camel Safaris with the owner. After a long chat and a lot of haggling, we managed to get a 2-day trek for 1,200 rupees. This included food, shelter, guides, camels, etc.
The next day Kazuma, Saki (Japanese girl also staying at the hotel) and I climbed into the jeep and sped off into the Thar desert at 7.30am. After half an hour's drive we pulled over and met our two guides - Abdulah and I can't remember the second guy's name. Our camels lay in wait, chewing their cud, farting and spitting whenever the feeling took them. As we mounted these amazing creatures it startled me how tall they are. Sitting a good 8 foot in the air, I struck a silent bargain with my camel; that I'd let him have the occassional graze of any nearby shrubs and go easy on the whip if he'd let me ride on his back with relative comfort and ease. We reached an agreement and set off.
The camel riding experience was far from the bum-numbing bumpy ride I had expected, and much more a slow, hip swerving movement. Having gotten comfortable with the 'controls' of the beast, I felt positively cool riding out into the desert on the back of this strange creature. We rode for 2 hours, listening to Abdulah's desert songs and admiring the views. At first, the desert was much more shrubs and rocky ground, but as time wore on we reached some beautiful dunes, where it was possible to play out your ultimate Lawrence of Arabia fantasies!
We stopped for lunch, where our two guides disappeared to collect wood. they made a fire and in no time at all had chai, a curry and some chappati bread on the go all at once. As I admired how graceful my Japanese compadres were in eating this rustic meal, I proceeded to attack my portion with all the finesse of a hungry bear. the food was delicious.
We set off again and encountered more dune seas. Before long, it was time to set up camp, and once again our guides were off in search of their materials. This time, I offered to help with the meal and was given the task of peeling the garlic and making chappati. Again, the curry was delicious, and as the sun started to set, Kazuma, Saki and I went off to find a nice spot for some pictures. We returned to camp in time for chai and a few desert songs around the fire. As the beds were drawn out, we settled down for the night by the fire. A million miles from the bustle of India, I was perfectly content to be tranquil - lying under the brightest moon with its accompaniment of stars with a light breeze to cool us down. I fell asleep instantly and woke up completely refreshed.
The next morning, there was of course chai with a breakfast of toast and fruit. We set off around 8.00 and rode for a few hours. The second day's riding was a different story. Having streched otherwise-unstretched muscles the previous day, my body ached with every step of the camel and when the guide informed us that we'd be doing some galloping, my heart sank. Nevertheless, I gritted my teeth and made it back to base camp alive. As the jeep came into view I was relieved that we'd opted for a two-day trek and not the 5-day monster we'd seen advertised. We returned to the hotel having made our thanks. I gave the guides a generous tip each, since they'd shared with me the recipe for that delicious desert curry.
We booked tickets at the train station today - Kazuma is on his way to Kolkata, Saki is on her way to Rishikesh, and both will go via Jaipur - which is my next destination.
Its nice to have company - even if they don't speak a word of the Queen's!
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Jodhpur, Rajasthan, India

As I arrived in Jodhpur's hectic centre, it was evident that this city was a million miles from the laid back attitude I had grown accustomed to in Udaipur. I passed through a market that, since my arrival, has not stopped or slowed in pace; the competition between stall owners is fierce and each time I have ventured into the fray the desperate attempts to sell me something have come thick and fast. There seems to be an urgency about the city; with even the begging population being more business-wise and immediate than those of previous cities I've visited - here the children stretch out their hands and simlpy name their price - "Ten Rupees mister". Nevertheless there is certainly a refreshing buzz to the city that is a welcome change to the casual atmosphere of Udaipur.
As you know I spent the first 3-4 days hidden away in my hotel room, feeling rather ill and sorry for myself. Having upgraded to an AC room, I felt much better and decided to opt for the AC option in future. I visited fort Mehrangarh, from where I had a great view of the Blue City. The fort's history proved to be interesting - along with the artefacts such as one of the original doors of the fort - on which you can actually see the canon ball holes originally made by the assault on the fort by the Mughals.
I then visited a lovely temple called Jaswat Thada - where I was greeted by a kind old man by the entrance who stopped and talked to me a while.
As I strolled the bustling markets, I found a small cafe and ordered a set meal for one that cost around 50p. Having had little or no luck with food in the past, I was delighted to find that this meal was actually delicious - probably the first seriously tasty curry I've had since landing!
After spending one or two days here I was already eager to leave but I didn't want to move until I was completely recovered, and so tomorrow is when I take the train to Jaisalmer - edging closer to the Thar desert, I am concerned about the heat and have promised mam to stick with the AC rooms "to be on the safe side"!
I think though in seriousness that I'm not cut out for the heat and by now I am really eager to move further north where hopefully things will get a little cooler.
Thanks again everyone for your messages and notes - really nice to receive anything from home!
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Jodhpur, Rajasthan, India

Having shopped around the local tour guide offices, I decided to hire a car and driver to take me from Udaipur to my next stop - Jodhpur. For 30 pounds, it sounded a bit steep, but the driver explained that he would be stopping at points of interest along the way, and that Jodhpur is in fact quite a long way from Udaipur. Given my previous experiences with pubilc transport, I didn't need much convincing, and so I arranged to be picked up the next morning at 10.00 "sharp"
The driver was a young guy called Shandir who, as somehow every Indian person I've spoken with so far has, had an impossibly positive outlook on life. As an autorickshaw swerved to miss a cow lying in the road, missing our car by inches and punching his horn frantically, he laughed heartily and said with brimming pride - "this is Indian driving - horn and no sight"
As we left the city of Udaipur, I watched the beautiful landscape of Rajasthan unfold. We passed through numerous farming villages, where the residents made their money by planting and harvesting grain. Needless to say these people were living in absolutely dire conditions, but nevertheless as we drove past with our windows open, seldom would I not hear a "Namaste" or see a grinning face and friendly wave.
We came to our first stop at around midday - Kumbhalgarh fort. This stunning 15th century fortress is home to 52 temples and the "Palace of Cloud". The driver opted to stay in the car while I made my way around, and between climbing to the very top of the Palace of Cloud and visiting just a handful of the temples scattered around, I realised I had spent over 2 hours exploring the fort and hastily made my way back to the car. Being almost 2000m above sea level, the views from Kumbhalgarh fort were absolutely amazing - being on top of this huge fortress built hundreds of years ago, viewing the surrounding mountains was a truly memorable experience.
We continued towards Jodhpur, and shortly after we stopped for some lunch and tea, we visited the largest Jain temple in India - Adinath. I couldn't help but laugh as the temple came into view - I was comlpetely gobsmacked. Inside was a beautiful maze of pillars, all intricately carved with different patterns and stories. I spent an hour simply walking around and gawping at the mesmerising detail and artwork, before taking a few photos and returning to the car.
The driver seemed happy with my reaction to Adinath Temple and, as always brimming with pride, claimed that it was "The most beautiful temple in the world"
We arrived in Jodhpur and I knew at once that it was completely different to Udaipur. Bustling markets, beggars lying in the streets, cow manure freckled onto every square inch of pavement; this certainly was the India I had pictured when starting my travels!
I've yet to explore Jodhpur as unfortunately I've been unwell (my finger remains pointed at the rather dubious "Special egg curry") but as soon as I sort myself out I will hit the sights and let you know what I find. I'm already looking forward to exploring the Meranghar fort, which looms over the city and can be seen from my humble hotel room.

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Udaipur, Rajasthan, India

With my want for tranquility and a bit of peace sated by the delights of Udaipur, it is with a mixture of anticipation and slight melancholy that I set my sights to Jodhpur. As I prepare to leave in a couple of days, I have more than enough time to reflect on what I've actually been doing for the past two weeks.

As mentioned, I spent one or two days simply walking about the town and generally having a snoop around. Each day I set off in different directions and walked for as long as I wanted, eventually turning back and finding a different route back to the area where I was staying. This practise soon became tiresome and so for the next day I devised a plan to visit the main post office and Folk art museum a little way out of town. Of course what looks "a little way out of town" in the guidebook map resembles something rather different in reality, especially in temperatures of 45 degrees. Armed with a bottle of water, however, I soldiered on down the dusty roads snaking away from the familiar surroundings of the town centre; my sights set on the main post office. It must have had something to do with the heat, as looking back at it now it was a bit foolish, but I had a clear vision in my mind of the "Main Post Office": an official establishment that no doubt would be orderly, clean and organised. As the trek wore on and the heat bore down relentlessly, I was now looking forward to entering the spacious, air conditioned marble building, being offered a glass of ice cold water and told to sit and rest my weary feet. Ok that was a bit of an exaggeration, but imagine my dismay as the Main Post Office finally came into view - a shoddy old shack, packed to the brim and bustling with angry locals. Of course there was no air conditioning, of course there were no glasses of water - this is India after all!
I smiled as I dropped some postcards into the post box and turned my attention to locating the nearby Folk art museum. A brief sit-down in the shade and a few swigs of hot water set my head straight, and I set off up the road; eager to sample the local display of folk culture.
My tour of the museum was finished within half an hour, and though there were some interesting masks and musical instruments, there was nothing spectacular to behold. Glad that I'd made the effort however, I made my way back to the town centre; where I treated myself to 2 fresh mangoes and a melon from the street vendor's cart. Resting in my room afterwards, I thought about what Mam had said in an email - "Only mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the midday sun - and you aren't any one of those!" I thought it wise then to spend the time between 11.00 and 15.00 indoors from now on.

The next few days passed without incident, and again I took simple pleasure in immersing myself as best as I could in the local scene - walking small circuits and enjoying a coffee and banana porridge with toast in local cafes. I felt myself unwind whilst reading books and again the lack of urgency felt good - there was no hurry to do or see anything as I plan to stay out here for so long.

Yesterday I made plans to visit the Monsoon Palace. (Just about seen in the "View from the rooftop restaurant" picture - on top of the big mountain behind which the Sun is setting)
I arranged to pay 200 rupees to a local rickshaw driver and we set off around 5.30 to get there in plenty of time. On the way he insisted that we visit a model village that features examples of how different Indian tribes lived a few hundred years ago. History not particularly being a vice of mine, I was reluctant - but of course not wanting my immaturity to stop me from experiencing something different and, God forbid, learning something, I agreed. We arrived the front gate and I stepped inside, having paid the entrance fee. The model villages were deserted, and the information boards that surrounded offered so little information I had to laugh. I went on however, took a few photographs, and decided to turn back when I learnt the place had been taken over by stray dogs - many of whom were fast approaching and growling. Retreating with little grace, I came accross a group of people who beckoned me over. The "Mother-hen" of the group barked at her two (presumably) daughters and motioned me to sit down. The band started playing and the girls performed a very impressive traditional dance that included all the acrobatics and theatrics you'd expect. I couldn't help but notice how strained the atmosphere was though, and call me cynical or typically western, but I couldn't help noticing the mother who kept shouting at her daughters throughout the dance - probably urging them to try harder and concentrate. I felt like an aristocratic, imperialist monster - watching a forced interpretation of a once-sacred dance that had probably been bastardised and filtered down to serve as a tool to extract money from rich tourists such as myself. As I took a picture I couldn't help thinking how ridiculous the whole thing was. Its not that I'm denying I am a tourist, its just that the episode was so staged it was embarrassing. I left the silent model village and tried to ignore the shouts of stall-owners trying to sell their artwork and handicraft.

We approached the Monsoon Palace at the perfect time. Driving up the steep winding road, the sun was still in plain view, but there wasn't too much time till sunset. The place was crawling with loud tourists, but I managed to climb a wall and scramble down a ledge to find a quiet spot to admire the view. After a few pictures and a sit-down (and a spotting of a few monkeys!) I climbed back up to the palace to look around. The inside was bare, so I made my way around to the back balcony. The views were stunning to say the least, and I really hope the pictures captured it. It may not look like much but you could see the surrounding landscape for thousands of miles, it was incredible. As the sun set, there was a temporary hush amongst the tourists (even the Americans present managed to keep quiet for two minutes.) Just for a few moments, I forgot about the tourist "thing" and the country's obsession with my money and just admired the view. This was what I'd come for and it was absloutely amazing - I'd finally found a truly breathtaking spectacle and an opportunity to admire the beauty of something completely natural.
I wandered back to the fore-court of the palace and stood still, admiring the view in the new light. My rickshaw driver put an end to the moment by shouting at me to "come now" while putting out his cigarette. The photo opportunity I'd paid for had passed and of course he was eager to return home with all the other drivers. As mentioned - I have no shame in being a tourist, its just hard sometimes when you are as cynical as I!

Looking forward to a change of scenery now, and will update as soon as I reach Jodhpur or if anything interesting happens. I have been warned now by two locals of the temperatures of Jodhpur and especially Jaisalmer at this time of year - I can only hope they are as enchanting as Udaipur and have more to offer than mad dogs and Englishmen.
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/owain/1/1242162000/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/owain/1/1242162000/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/owain/1/1242162000/tpod.html Thu, 14 May 2009 11:00:55 -0400 India

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Udaipur, Rajasthan, India

I arrived in Udaipur with heavy heart and more than my fair share of bruises.
I needed a miracle to lift my spirits - suffice to say its lucky I chose Udaipur!
Absoloutely fantastic place, with the perfect hotel and a couple of bookshops (I had started to run out)
I will write more and upload more pictures when I find a cafe with better connection speed, as I have been her now for 2 hours.

After spending my first day in Udaipur reading and drinking tea on the rooftop of the hotel, I decided to venture outside and explore the city. I visited the City Palace, situated on the bank of Lake Pichola, the inside of which had been reconstructed as a museum. It is a beautiful building, complete with turrets, a huge courtyard and hundreds of plush corridors and all sorts of engravings and pillars throughout. The views of the city from the palace were breathtaking, but my pictures don't really do it justice.
I then visited Jagdish temple, which is about 200m from my hotel. I had to take off my shoes before entering and burnt the bottom of my feet by doing so - the temperature hasn't dropped below 40 degrees since I got here. The Temple itself was impressive - I didn't really feel welcome there though, so I took one or two photos and left. Photography inside the temple is strictly forbidden.
I'm getting used to the more relaxed side of things here, and take great pleasure in simply walking about. I get hassled occassionally by local rickshaw drivers or shop keepers, but not excessively. It strikes me that the people of Udaipur are genuinely friendlier than most, in that they will stop you in the street and converse with you casually, without agenda. Of course some will eventually try and sell you something, but today for example, I had a walk with a local and talked with him for about half an hour - after which he shook my hand and just walked off.
Planning on staying here for another week or so, then heading to Jodhpur.

O ia - Diolch o galon am yr holl negeseuon gan bawb, dwi wrth fy modd yn mynd ar-lein a cael clywed gan pawb adra! (Actually, dwi ddim yn siwr pam dwi'n sgwennu'r blog yn Saesneg!)
Diolch eto a dwi'n falch clwad bod gymaint yn enjoio darllan!
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