Jaisalmer - Pakistan Is Over Yonder.
Trip Start
Mar 03, 2005
1
26
235
Trip End
Ongoing
Jaisalmer,
India
Wednesday, May 18, 2005
Upon arrival at Jaisalmer I was whisked up towards the 800 year old Fort area, which like the Fort area in Jodhpur, is high on a hill overlooking the old city. But the difference here in Jaisalmer is that the fort and its grounds are filled with alleyways of homes and guesthouses. There are other similarities here as well, such as the wandering cows and remnants of their last bowel movement splashed on the alleys, but the streets are a little cleaner here. My guesthouse is right in the fort, with my window being one of the original bastions looking down into the new town below.
I ran into a Canadian bloke named Dallas who I'd met before and had a drink with him and a few others on a guesthouse roof looking down on the city. Its a mixture of old and new here - a town with 1,000 years of history under its belt, with large windmill "fans" generating power on the outskirts of town, and an Indian air base (complete with regular fighter jet flyovers) nearby.
Hell its hot.... the forecast for the next few days is 44, dropping to 43 when a cool change comes through. I've already been told that I am brave being here in May, but apparently in June the temperatures rise further to over the 50 mark. A local said to me, "June 50 to 55, sometimes 60....". Enough to fry your Chapatis without a hotplate.
After a week of Tikkas, Tandooris, Biryanis, the afore-mentioned Chapatis, Thalis and other Indian delicacies, my tastebuds and slightly bemused tummy have told me to look elsewhere. Although the Indians aren't known to be great western chefs, I did partake in a decent Pizza, complete with kalamata olives. I recently had the conversion as to what consumables you miss most when you are travelling. I think my top 6 would include Chicken Salad, simple Cheese and Crackers, Wine, a Steak, Olives and Sundried Tomatoes, and a decent dish of Pasta on a regular basis. Oh, and a return to Thailand for a Massamun Curry. And ice cream, cool cool ice cream.....
Dallas was keen to try out a local delicacy - the Bhang Lassi. The Indian Government grows their own version of 'soft' marijuana and sells it in small amounts. The locals call it Bhang. Its all above board and legal, though still slightly disconcerting. There are a few Bhang Shops in different places, but Dr Bhang in Jaisalmer is famous for his yoghurt drinks with Bhang. Those of you who know me well know it isn't my thing to Bhang away, but I was prepared to go along to see if Dallas got out of there will all his faculties intact. He immediately ordered the strong Bhang Lassi - more Bhang for your buck allegedly. While he was sipping away, we had a chat to Dr Bhang, the teenage owner of the shop. Dr Bhang partakes in his own products for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Dr Bhang talks like he partakes in his own products for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Dr Bhang is a rather unique character with a rather unique outlook. He did however present us with all of the relevant paperwork and newspaper articles explaining Bhang's history and legality in India.
Dallas finished his Lassi, and said that the only effect was that he felt slightly tired. I'd suggest it was because he'd been listening to Dr Bhang speak. I had consumed nothing and felt sleepy after hearing Dr Bhang bang on too long.
Prior to the heat of the new day kicking in, I wandered through the Fort Area and into the Maharaja's Palace. It has been elegantly kept up, considering it was built in the 1100's. Further into the Fort area are the Jain Temples and Haveli's, which are original merchant's buildings from the period.
Most people come to Jaisalmer to go Camel trekking. The idea is to spend a couple of days and nights strolling your way through the Desert's scorching conditions, going to ghost-town villages and temples and enjoying the dulcet tones of singing local guides and flatulent Camels. Oh, and the saddle sores. As I could not think of anything more horrendous than being on a Camel in the oven that is the Thar Desert in May for a couple of days, with a sore arse to boot, I have instead booked myself on the woosey na-na tour. This is wrapped up in 7 hours, and includes a short camel ride as well as some jeeping around the desert.
My brief desert interlude started with a short drive to some temples and cenotaphs not far from Jaisalmer. It was brief indeed at the second stop - I had paid my 10 Rupees and looked through the gate to see concrete pathways reaching in different directions, all in the blazing sun with no shady protection. The attendant told me to take my shoes off. Hmmm, 44 degrees, concrete paths, bare feet. I saved myself the blisters.
The Jeep made a stop off back in Jodhpur to pick up some travel companions - a Mexican Mother and Daughter and an Argentinian girl. As my Espanol is El Shitto, the conversation was relatively limited, as only the Argentinian girl could speak some English.
Our first stop was a small village by the roadside out in the desert. It was very basic, with around 12 concrete block homes and a few horny cattle (as in the spikey things from their heads) and goats 'grazing' on the rough gravel and rocky surface. Of course visitors means kids come rushing out from the concrete blocks, firstly rushing to the females of the group and then once they realised I was the main English speaker, and I was from "Australia Ricky Ponting", they rushed solely to me. I didn't get to see much of the village, but once the call went up for someone to rush to get the cricket bat, suddenly I was involved in a Test Match.
They handed me the chunk of wood fashioned into a cricket bat shape - for those with a sense of history, it was Lance Cairns style with no shoulders on it as such. Given I'm a left-hander, the shouts of "Gilly! Gilly! Gilly!" (just like in the commercial) must have put me off as I let an early one through the defences. Personally I think I was given out on a home-town decision, as there was no wicket yet they insisted I had been bowled.
So I moved on to deliver right-arm pace from the Pakistani-border end of the gravel path (a mere 150 kms away). Actually it was more right-arm unorthodox lollipops, as the little 8 year old with the Sachin Tendulkar forearms smashed it straight back over my head. Its referred to as 'cow corner' when someone tries to make some room and whack you that way, but this time it actually was true, as there were genuine cows fielding in that area. I tried to retreat to the comfort of the open Jeep, but they insisted we keep playing. The South American contigent did look mildly confused as to what I was actually doing. El Cricketo Cie?
We sped off before too long, and turned off the highway, straight into the gravel and sand. The Jeep driver, Mr. Jeeves Singh, seemed to know where he was heading even though there was no pathway. After a great deal of time, Jeeves pulled to a halt and said "its quiet in the desert, yes?" Its moments like that when you think you are about to lose a kidney or something as sinister.
Out jumped Jeeves, grabbed a large bottle of water, and told us to wander over the hills to the village just over yonder. The village was only a few minutes walk, but somehow we had walked back a few hundred years. There was a collection of mudbrick houses with thatched roofs, wandering animals, dung piles and women transporting water in large clay jugs placed on their heads. Jeeves told us "resting time, we get Camels", so we were left there in the heat of the desert, waiting while they apparently searched for the bloody Camels. Bloody 44 degrees. Have I mentioned its hot?
All was not lost, as out wandered a local woman and her child, holding up a few bottles and asking the question - "Pepsi?".
After an hour's apparent searching for four sturdy Camels, and a decent session of strapping half of the village to their backs, it was onboard the Camel Train. Our leader was 11 year old Mr. Singh ("three years experience, no school for English") and his 9 year old trusty sidekick, Raju. In the age of litigation, somewhere a travel agent in Jaisalmer city still thought it was wise to send 4 Westerners out into the Thar Desert, with two kids.
We were only on the Camel's for about an hour and a half. The views were tremendous, but there was something that I did note early on...
Murray's Rule of Travel #12 - When hiring a Camel, ask for a saddle that has stirrups.
With your legs dangling straight down the side of the heaving beast, essentially all of the pressure goes onto your hamstrings and predomiantly your groin. Hence I now know what it is like to be a giant chicken wishbone. I should have made a wish.
Apart from attempting to scratch its flea-bitten neck with my calf, my Camel of choice was actually a rather friendly creature, and most attentive to my pulls of the reigns and "click click" sounds to coax it into forward momentum.
Mr Singh told us to jump off and walk over the sand dunes while he found the camp and made us some Chai. This was ok for me, because I was actually heading back to Jaisalmer shortly, provided Jeeves with the Jeep could locate me in the middle of frickin' nowhere. But it did prove some concerns for the ladies in the group, who thought they were facing a night out in the Desert with 4 cud-chewing creatures and an eleven year old boy as protection from the elements.
The desert is mostly just sand, scrub and rough dirt. But there are areas that are your picture-postcard-perfect sand dune, and that was where we were. You could see the ripples in the sand, with no footprints for miles. It was truly a serene sunset, magically broken by the sound of Hindi pop music blaring from the Jeep's stereo, as Jeeves came tearing across the sands to our location.
Mr Singh called us to camp, where another group had arrived from their major trek. Mr Singh immediately got demoted to "boy" and the remaining adult local Camel drivers set about making dinner for the group. I can't say the hygiene levels of the food preparation would have passed many World health organisation standards, but the food was certainly passable. Hopefully not too "passable", if you get my drift, as I face a 6 hour bus ride back to Jodhpur tomorrow.
By 9.30pm the stars were out, and I saw my second shooting star for my visit to India. It was time for me to go. I had heard stories from other travellers of night sandstorms being quite terrifying for those out in them, so I wished those staying behind a good night's sleep, and headed of with Jeeves and a Turban-wearing villager back to the Jeep.
It was a little spooky. Jeeves stopped the Jeep after a while. "Four wheel drive, change to two wheel drive..." he said, and pulled out a spanner or some other tool to adjust the wheel settings. Our Turban-wearing companion got out of the Jeep and stood next to me at the door of the Jeep. He only wanted a chat in broken English, but hell he looked scary in the darkness with only the silouette of his Turban and long moustache visible in the moonlight.
We dropped him off at the Village, and then spent another 20 minutes or so tearing across the sand back towards the highway. Jeeves knows the sands around Jaisalmer well, as even in the darkness he found his way. I was back in my guesthouse by 10.30pm, as dry and thirsty as I'll ever be (you know the saying, and if you don't I'm not telling you cos its rude), but thankful that I was safely indoors, even if those doors were 800 years old. I could here the winds a blowin' in the distance.
