Jeselmer (Desert city)

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  Jeslemer, India
Monday, September 15, 2008

....eventually we made it to Jeselmer, an Indian desert city near to the boarder with Pakistan, desert cities are realisically what you would think, lots of orange, sand coloured housing with rugged dusty streets. Our driver took us to a restaurant he thought was good (turned out he just had some mates there) which gave me Delhi belly. Delhi belly is not nice. Essentially everthing that comesout of your 'hoohaa' looks like curry.

Anyway, I worked my way around the old Havali's there (getting a touch bored of them now) and wondered upon the fort which springs up from the ground. This fort looks almost identical to those sand castles you used to make when you went to the beach when you were younger (or in my case a couple of weeks ago), and shines with a depp orange glow during sunset. The old city is anchient and still has it's old open sewer network inwhich the dogs and pigs of this world like to take a dip.

Cow dung pellets are sun dried for later use as fuel, as under the stained yellow clothes overhanging the street the market busy's itself selling handicrafts.

"Hello, where you from?" - a sound I hear everywhere but which I usually ignore as it's someone selling me something..

"Hello, I no want money, talking for free" - I hesitate, maybe they just want to talk

"I'm from the UK" - I reply tenatively. He was me now, I could be wasting valuble photo taking minutes.

" bad bombs in Delhi, tourist no come anymore, probably 50% less!" - I'd heard about the bombs from our driver, relieved that i'm many miles away from the insanity that has probably ensued there since.

"OK, you like pretty things? I take you to my shop you see pretty things" He notions to the back of the motorbike he's riding wanting me to come aboard. There's no way in Rajastan that i'd get on the back of that motorbike. At this point I obviously realise he's selling something so give a repost.


" I hate pretty things, they give me nose bleeds!" - and with this I walk off. I have a little toolbox of getting rid of people like this, if they say " You no like Indian people/India" as they try to grapple conversation out of me " No, I really don't" is my very effective reply.


Anyway, so we took a camel safari into the dunes of the Thar Desert, a few kilometers from Pakistan, the desert is amazing, apparantly the temperature rose to 45 degrees whilst we were plodding along, the desert has few dunes but walkng in just a few of them really opens your eyes. As you ride across the open scrub land you can see in the distance the smooth golden curves of the dunes rising on the horizon, there smiliarity to the human body lying down is quite astounding. And then, stand in the middle of the dunes, with noone else, time does not move. The wind slowly changes the dune forever, the ripples every slowly advancing as each grain of sand is picked up and deposited, almost like a lake. Walking in the desert and rding a camel into unknown terratory i've never felt so much like Indiana Jones, the desert is something i've wanted to see for along time, and it does truly run on the sands of time.

We plodded (Camels deffinitely plod) to a village ( mud huts/farm sort of set up) and had a bite to eat before setting up our open air camp in the dunes over the ridge, there I was thouroughly knackered, possibly not from the camel ride itself but the heat. I'm not designed for such temperatures. We gazed at the full moon and smattering of stars, the dunes becoming silver slopes in the moonlight.

Then we were attacked by dungbeetles. Dungbeetles arn't dangerous in the slightest, they're just massive and manage to crawl into your shirt/trousers ect.... thouroughly unpleasant while you're trying to sleep, at one point I woke up to find my face actually restin on one. Lovely. Anyway in the distance the thumping of another distant camp floated over the still sands, gipsey's were having a party, dancing and singing around a fire. A part of me wished me there, but the other was still in wonder at lying out in the open in the middle of the desert being visited by dung beetles.

The next day we drove 5 hours to Jhotpur.

 

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