Wanderlust Heaven!

Jaipur bus station was a revelation of sorts.  First, I saw a sadhu (Indian holy man) vigorously brushing his teeth, using the public fountain and his right pointer finger.  I’d nearly forgotten that there was life before Oral-B.  Second, while getting ready to board my bus to Pushkar, I saw a crowd of foreigners getting ready to board the same bus – sure enough, it was the gang that was on my Jaipur city tour the previous day – Mitch, Chris, and their enablers.  Mitch and Chris had talked (nonsense) non-stop during the entire tour, and when the tour concluded I was relieved to get away from them.  Clearly I had counted my chickens too soon.

I briefly considered changing my travel plans – these two were that annoying – but decided to honor the key Buddhist tenet, i.e. life is suffering.  And sometimes you really cannot manage your suffering, you either have to wallow in it or embrace it.  So I boarded the bus to Pushkar and readied myself for a learning experience.  And I turned up the volume on my iPod; what might the Buddha say today if he were exposed to modern technology?

The ride wasn’t half-bad – Mitch (who sat right behind me – classic) fell asleep, Chris was far back in the bus, and the tour group guide, an Indian from Jaipur, was a nice guy who gave me a few tips on guesthouses.  We got to Pushkar in a few hours and I didn’t even pray that I’d not see Chris and Mitch again.  As I’ve said countless times, when you’re on the road you see the same people over and over – it’s uncanny how different people’s travel plans seem to fit together.  In Hampi I thought I saw a woman named Gabby who I knew slightly from Goa – she hung out at Bean Me Up now and then, and liked to drink.  On my Bangalore-Goa-Jaipur flight I saw Pascal, who was a witness in the Lisa-Richard wedding in Goa; I meant to say hi to him, but got into my book and forgot about him.  And here in Pushkar, I saw a German-Tibetan couple whom I’d met at a dinner in Goa – I saw them from afar and didn’t bother to go up and say hi…they were a bit odd and I didn’t feel like a strained encounter or, worse, a dinner invitation.  I suppose I like traveling solo and am not particularly desperate for company.

Got to my guesthouse, White House, where the dude proceeded to show me around.  That involved marching up steep stairs to see the rooftop restaurant – which was nothing special, but which featured a photo of Prem Joshua, my old Goa buddy.  Pushkar is a holy town and also a tourist town, and you hear no end of Prem’s music.  There are also loads of ‘priests,’ some of whom are no doubt genuine, all of which are no doubt annoying.  The centerpiece of the town is the lake and the ghats surrounding it – off one of them, Ganhi’s ashes were scattered.  I wonder how many parts they separated his ashes into – I know that some were scattered in other places as well.

I was only in town for a couple days, and that was OK.  Being a holy town, Pushkar has no beer, no meat – and not even any eggs/dairy products.  I figured I’d get sick of the cuisine pretty quickly, and be dying for a beer within minutes.

It was wedding season, and I don’t think the local bands stopped playing the entire time I was in town.  It was quite festive, and I found myself hanging out on the outskirts of a couple weddings, watching the young ‘uns party it up.  Some local kids befriended me, they were adorable and fun…was it me or my rupees?

I spent the rest of my time wandering around town – there’s a very rare Brahma temple, most temples are for Shiva and some for Vishnu, old Brahma doesn’t get much respect it seems.  And the lake and surrounding temples and buildings are stunning…don’t ask me about holiness, but the place is certainly otherworldly.  See what I mean:

Was pretty tired for the first day there, took a long nap, got up late at night, and went to prowl for food.  Met a fellow on the street who knew a place, took me there, and the food was decent.  Veg momos (Tibetan dumplings) and potatos – filled me up.  The only concern was the tubercular coughing of everyone in the place – I attributed that to the bidis they were smoking, and not to tuberculosis itself.  I made a mental note to get tested sometime soon.

Spoke with Lisa that night – she’s been through a nasty few weeks in Goa.  I mentioned in an earlier post that a young girl was found dead on a Goan beach, likely the victim of foul play.  Because she was Lisa’s sister’s friend, Lisa has gotten involved, and that hasn’t been fun.  Also, her father has been a pain in the ass and has only just left Goa.  I told Lisa she was too much of a sport – not many of us would consider hosting our families for a month (and paying for all their expenses).  What’s that old saying?  ‘A guest is like a fish – after three days they start to stink.’

Fortune permitting, Lisa and Richard plan to trek the Kanchenajunga trail in Nepal in May.  I might join them, although the timing looks a bit difficult right now.

Had another good sleep that night.  Got up next morning and took care of errands – bought a bus ticket to Jodhpur, called Harsh’s cousin in Jodhpur, and booked a guesthouse there.  Sampled some Indian sweets – jalebi, which is doughy squiggle coated with syrup.  Very nice – I do like Indian sweets.   

Walked around for a couple hours – not much else to do in Pushkar.  Saw old buddies Mitch and Chris on the street, but they were some ways off and I didn’t have to have a Certs encounter.  Mitch was talking nonstop – big surprise.  Went back to my hotel to take care of business.  My hotel room had very dodgy plumbing – and I suspect the previous occupant had clogged things up, which resulted in the bathroom floor getting flooded with effluence.  Yeah.  I packed up my stuff, paid my bill, and promptly changed hotels.  The previous night I’d met a couple fellows down the street who ran another place, Hotel Rising Star, and I now went there and got a room.  Cheaper, cleaner, plumbing seemed solid.  And I was happy to give these guys some of my business, they were pleasant enough.  Hotel Rising Star isn’t mentioned in Lonely Bible, and I think that as a result, they try a bit harder.  If you can find a place not in the guidebooks, without walking 5 miles with a pack on your back, that’s the ideal.  I really should troll the websites a bit more, but don’t relish the prospect of spending even more time at a computer…

Spent some time catching up on Al & Janine’s blog – they’ve obviously spent a huge amount of time getting that caught up.  I’ve mentioned before that their blog is highly diverting, and much less cynical than mine.  They seem to get into the seam of whatever culture they visit and do a good job educating their readers.  Blogging is really coming up – a friend from Monitor and a fraternity brother from Tufts both just started up blogs.  One of these days I’ll list the URLs so you can spend even more time fucking off from work and reading blogs…

Speaking of blogs, I read about a website called Technorati.com.  This site covers and rates blogs on their popularity, which I suppose means # of hits, but I’m not sure.  Anyway, after some doing I found that my blog is rated approximately the 4.45 millionth most popular on the web.  Seriously.  Huh.  That’s humbling…I don’t know how many blogs are out there, but it doesn’t feel that stimulating to have cracked the top 5 million.  Maybe I should start juicing my blog – putting in references to products, other websites, and writing ‘Technorati’ approximately 5,000 times per blog entry.  Any ideas, let me know.  Actually, I think it’s kind of funny…and I’ll probably doing nothing about it.

As the sun was starting to go down, I climbed a small hill outside town to see Pap Mochani Temple.  The views from this hill were brilliant – some of the photos above were taken from here.

A band of urchins followed me up the hill.  They yelled to me – I kept climbing.  I wasn’t sure what they wanted – probably just some amusement and contact with a random foreigner.  I wasn’t worried, but decided not to get too close to any precipices, and to keep my Tevas in sight (you need to take ‘em off to enter temples).  In the end, the kids were no problem – and when they asked me to buy them some chapattis in town, I said sure – they were dirty and looked hungry.

When we got to town, and found a shop, I wasn’t that surprised to find that they wanted me to buy them chapatti mix – i.e., a huge bag of flour and a container of butter/ghee – enough to feed them and their families for a week.  I probably would have preferred to buy them a couple cooked chapattis each, but was willing to shell out the 360 rupees as a good deed.  I bought them the raw materials, and they lugged them off, thanking me.  The lads in action:

After that expenditure, I made a note not to take any shit from pushy priests at the ghats.  These fellows pretty much drag you down to the lake and ‘bless you’ – a procedure which seems to consist of smearing your forehead with saffron dust, having you toss a few flowers and spices in the lake, and spouting a bunch of nonsense Hindi and English.  I know because minutes after parting with the kids, I found myself at the lakeside undergoing this process.  I left 50 rupees in the donation plate – and when the priest asked for 100, I told him that he should spend more time feeding the hungry kids of the town and less bilking tourists.  I think he got the point.

Went for a run…saw the chapatti kids again on the street, looking well-fed…had dinner…talked for a while with other guests at my hotel…crashed.  My bus to Jodhpur was at 7 the next morning.

I mentioned the weddings before – there was another one this night, and it didn’t seem to end until sunrise.  I remember checking my watch during one of the musical lulls and it was 3:50 a.m.  These Indians really know how to throw a bash.  And India must be an even louder country than the Philippines, my previous top-ranked loudest country.  I think I got zero sleep, then got up, showered, and trudged over to the bus station.  The sun was coming up and people at the bus station were wrapped in blankets.  It was a somewhat apocalyptic scene – but perhaps I only say that because I just finished ‘The Road’ by Cormac McCarthy.

This was a local bus, hence tons of stops, but it wasn’t too bad.  Most locals got on and off quickly, just taking the bus for a few kilometers.  And the roadside attractions were cool – lots of camels, as you’d picture in Rajasthan.  Camels are truly majestic creatures – seven feet tall, long necks, tiny heads, with a calm visage.  I recalled nearly running into one outside Alice Springs in Oz – I’m not sure I would have won that collision.

Jodhpur was not on my original itinerary, but Harsh’s dad, who’s from Jodhpur, convinced me to visit.  Jodhpur is famous for its huge Cliffside fort, the Meherangarh, and its blue houses, as well as a few other sites.  I’d stay for 2-3 days and then move on to the desert town of Jaisalmer. 

I had booked into a guesthouse called Saji Sanwri (‘beautiful place’), in a 350-year-old haveli (Indian house) within the old city walls.  My guidebook recommended this place, and it was right on the money.  The proprietess, Indu, is an animated Indian woman who is constantly in a state of enhancing her family house.  There are something like 125 doors and 35 rooms, 10 of which are now for guests.  From listening to her and walking around the place, I got the sense this was a living organism – it required constant upkeep and attention to its ‘diet.’  One of the cooler guesthouses I’ve come across.

I was extremely dusty from the bus ride – so was my pack – so we both showered and dried off.  Then I set off to have a big lunch, preferably with meat and beer.  I found a place called Kalinga near the railway station, this place was slightly formal and, with its uniformed waiters, tablecloths, and high-powered aircon, reminded me of my old Bombay favorite Mahesh Lunch Home.  These types of Indian restaurants have a classic feel, they’re a bit stiff but pleasant.  And Kalinga had great stuff – very cold Kingfisher beer and delicious chicken kebabs.  I filled my belly and set off back to the guesthouse to relax for a while.  Wandering the streets of the old city was good fun – but intense.  Narrow lanes and lots of cow shit everywhere – I swear than there’s not a square inch of land in India that hasn’t been pissed, shit or spit upon.  I got back to Saji Sanwri and washed myself off – there’s no other way to stay clean round here.

Before getting back to the guesthouse I had stopped at a little lassi shop to try a local delicacy, the makhania lassi.  This is a saffron-flavored lassi – doesn’t sound that great, but I’m not sure I’ve had a more tasty snack.  It’s thick, and you take it with a spoon – like eating yogurt.  The saffron gives it a slightly citrus-y flavor.  In coming days I’d return for several more – I need to learn how to make these things, but doubt I can find all the ingredients outside India.

Jodhpur, being far from Delhi, seems to get far fewer tourists than Jaipur.  I deduced this from the trillions of stares I got walking around.  I didn’t see many other white (or East Asian) faces, and 90% of people stared at me.  It was a little annoying, but I suppose it’s the price of admission.  Still, I didn’t quite expect it – Jodhpur is a stop on the Rajasthan tourist circuit, unlike, say, several towns I stopped in while motorcycling round northern Vietnam.  Indians are shameless in their staring – you want to go home and look in a mirror to find your third eye.

All that said, it is somewhat nice to have fewer tourist hordes around.  And Chris and Mitch were nowhere to be found – excellent. 

Next morning, I went to Meherangarh Fort and spent a couple hours there.  The fort throws in a fantastic audio tour with price of admission – I wish more places offered this.  Great mix of history, drama, and culture.  The fort itself is probably the most photogenic I’ve yet seen – here it is:

Just seeing this place and spending time in it justified stopping in Jodhpur.  The views over the old city and its blue (from indigo paint) houses were superb:

A local was showing us how to smoke opium – but wasn’t sharing:

After the Meherangarh I visited a cenotaph called Jaswant Thada, which is the Jodhpuri Taj Mahal.  Can’t go inside, but it’s a good place to wander round:

From there, got a tuk-tuk out to Umaid Palace, built by the local maharajah.  It’s now partially open to the public – one section is a small museum, another is a luxury hotel.  The edifice itself is huge – I believe it’s one of the largest palaces on the planet.  Here it is:

Unfortunately, the maharajah who built the palace (well, he paid for it) died young.  He was only 43 or 44 and died of appendicitis.  Imagine that…you have countless wealth and your own huge castle, and you die of appendicitis.  Sad…but I guess back then, medical care was dicey and appendicitis was deadly.  Count your blessings, people…

Not much to do in the evenings in Jodhpur.  First night, went to the top restaurant/bar/nightclub, On the Rocks.  Had a few Kingfishers at the bar – was joined by a businessman from Udaipur who was quite annoying.  I can’t recall anything he said, but he had a crass manner and I was relieved when he left after 30 minutes.  I ate my chili chicken and chatted with the bartender for a while.  He liked my Treo mobilephone and, like lots of others here, asked me how much it cost.  I always play that down…I’d prefer not to have everyone know that I’m carrying a US$500 piece of hardware.  So I usually say US$150 or so (which is probably the current value).  I’ve had a couple locals ask to buy it from me…the issue is that the key with the ‘e’ and ‘1’ no longer works…and the phone is also constantly rebooting for some reason.  I think the thing is on its last legs, and I will replace it when in the States in April.  I would sell the thing, but need to port the data on it to my next phone (probably another, new Treo), so will keep it till then.

Watched a few of the DVDs I bought in Bangalore.  Had a ‘Tommy Lee Jones double-header’ – watched ‘In the Valley of Elah,’ then ‘No Country for Old Men.’  Both very good.  The latter was written by Cormac McCarthy, so I suppose I’ve had a McCarthy double-header lately as well, having read ‘The Road.’  It’s funny – I go weeks without watching movies, generally preferring to read or go out at night.  But then I get into streaks where I polish off a movie a day for a while – usually it’s when I get a large backlog of DVDs and can’t easily carry them around with me.

Did some travel planning for the month of March.  My touchstones have been the following:

-need to fly out of Delhi on April 1

-want to visit an old girlfriend in Kohima, Nagaland (far eastern state) in late March

I’ve been working my other destinations around those two objectives.  I thought about heading to Nagaland, and Darjeeling too (it’s fairly close by) earlier than late March, but the problem is that elections are happening around now and unrest is forecast…hence, giving things a couple weeks to cool off is the prescription.  So decided to stick with the original plan, which is to tour Rajasthan for a couple weeks, go through Delhi to get my Nagaland permit, visit Varanasi/Benares, hit Darjeeling, go to Nagaland, stop in Kolkata/Calcutta, and finally back to Delhi to depart India.  Busy month, but doable.

My last day in Jodhpur I got up with nothing special to do, so went for a makhania lassi near the clock tower.  Went back and read for a while – have just started ‘The Moor’s Last Sigh’ by Salman Rushdie.  For lunch went back to the clock tower area…wasn’t sure what I wanted to eat, I’d already been to Kalinga twice for beer and kebabs, had been to On the Rocks and Bollygood, the top two restaurants, so was tooling for something informal and random.  While passing through the archway leading to the market, I was accosted by two fellows from opposite sides – and thus got dragged into the ‘Omelette Wars.’  There’s been an ‘Omelette Shop’ here for decades, and is mentioned in the Lonely Planet.  Across the way, at another old shop, the proprietor’s grandson, nicknamed ‘Vicky,’ opened a competing omelette shop 6 or so years ago.  The first entrant, to no surprise, hates the ‘newcomer,’ and goes for every foreign face passing by.  I kind of preferred Vicky and his low-key approach – and his underdog, non-Lonely Planet status.  I had his tortilla patata for lunch and it was quite good.  Imagine Vicky’s life, though – he makes enough to feed himself, and is far from destitute – but his working life consists of exchanging bad vibes with the guy 5 meters away.  The world is large and incredibly diverse and diverting, but perhaps not so when your world is 5 meters wide. 

Counted my cash – was getting low so found an ATM and stocked up.  The Indian 10-rupee notes are often foul – these get exchanged constantly and grease and food gets all over them.  The higher-denom bills, by contrast, are usually clean and crisp.  To keep my wallet semi-clean, I usually surround the 10-ers with larger notes, or keep the 10s in my pocket. 

Was taking a midnight train out of Jodhpur to Jaisalmer, on the edge of the Great Thar Desert (you’ve doubtless heard of it).  Packed my stuff, washed up, and went out for something to eat.  Had to have a final makhania lassi – these are a local Jodhpur specialty, and wasn’t sure I’d come across them again.  Walked by the dueling omelette-teers, but didn’t stop and bicker.  Had a bag of potato chips, and that plus the lassi filled me up. 

Called my step-mother, who was soon to go in for surgery.  Wished her well – she sounded fine and I’m sure things will turn out well.

Got a tuk-tuk to the railway station.  This was my first Indian train ride in a while, and I’d forgotten how insane Indian train stations can be.  Hundreds of people were sleeping on the floor and milling about – I checked on my train, then went into the waiting room for passengers with aircon/first class tix.  Hung out there for a while, then boarded my train.  En route, was accosted by at least 3 different touts all promoting guesthouses in Jaisalmer.  Hadn’t seen this before – usually they get you when you arrive.  I had already booked a place, though, and shrugged them off.

Train was fine – I had an upper-berth sleeper and hauled my bags up there with me.  Took a sleeping pill, and crashed soon after we pulled out.

Got to Jaisalmer around 6 a.m.  The hotel, Shahi Palace, picked us up at the station and drove us into town.  Rooms were still occupied, so they found us a room at a nearby place for a few hours.  I slept some more, then got up at 9 and went back to Shahi to check in.  The entire morning was like a dream, it didn’t seem quite real after the fact. 

Jaisalmer is dominated by its huge fort atop a central hill.  The town itself is pretty small, nothing like Jaipur or Jodhpur.  The fort is really the thing here, along with camel and jeep rides in the desert.  I had some coffee on the rooftop of my guesthouse, which has stupendous views – check it out:

Then went to the fort for a couple hours of wandering.  It’s a living place, unlike Meherangarh – a few thousand people still live up there.  It’s a real rabbit warren, and fun to meander through.  There are guesthouses within the fort, but they damage the fort because water is a problem and they use more than their fair share.  As a result, the fort is slowly sinking into the hill and tourists are counseled to stay in town and not in the fort.  Fair enough.  There are also the requisite trinket/sari vendors all round – whatever.  I enjoyed wandering around, then left.  It was hot – must have been well over 30 degrees Celsius – but nothing like it gets in June, when it exceeds 40, from what I’ve heard.  Rajasthan is probably one of the hotter places in the world…but at least the heat is dry and you don’t shvitz like you do in East/Southeast Asia.  I still remembered sweating all day and all night when in Hanoi… 

More fort shots:

Lots of cows wandering around this town too.  I thought a bit about Spain and its use of the bull as a national symbol.  Of course, in Spain they kill and eat their cattle…not that I have a problem with that.

They need to work on their spelling around here:

Went for a long run as the sun went down.  Couldn’t really go running in Jodhpur, as the old city is narrow, and when you get into the new city the streets are crazy.  Here, it was far easier – it only took me a few minutes to get out of town and onto the highway (of sorts).  People thinned out and soon I found myself with more room than I’d had in a while.  I got well out of town and soon the desert loomed – this was more like it.  I felt I could run on and on and be in the middle of nowhere…but it was still pretty hot and I turned back after 15 minutes or so.  The best run I’d had in a long time…must get in another before leaving town and heading to Udaipur, where the running may again be dodgy.

Had dinner that night atop my hotel, with the fort looming above and lit up, weakly.  Jaisalmer isn’t a holy/dry town, so you can get beer, but apparently the license is dear and many places instead offer ‘special cold coffee.’  My place actually had this listed on the menu, for 100 rupees, so they weren’t fooling anyone…I got a couple and they bring the Kingfishers right out.  Not much subterfuge.  Ordered some lamb, naan, and vegetables, and had a little feast.  Quite exotic.  Chatted a bit with a French group at the next table.  I do admire the French – you find them all over Rajasthan, even though this wasn’t their colony.  Far fewer Anglos out here.

Reloaded my phone and called my old girlfriend in Nagaland.  We got into some planning, and she realized she needs to be in Bombay last week of March…when I was planning to visit her in Nagaland, permit allowing.  Her change of plans was actually fairly good news for me – I would have had to stay in Delhi for a bit and work on getting my Naga permit, no sure thing these days – now I could minimize my time there and visit Varanasi, Darjeeling, and Kolkata.  I would have liked to have seen Kohima and Nagaland…Kohima was the point of farthest Japanese advancement in WW2, and I like those sorts of military trivia.  Anyway, we decided to meet in Delhi at the end of March.  The key thing was for us to meet up, it’s been more than 10 years and I’d been hoping to see her this trip to India – not sure when I’ll be back.  So that now looks fairly likely.  I’m glad I got her on the phone – we’d had some email exchanges and email just isn’t that great for making decisions and moving the ball.  Talking is always much more productive.

Called my father – my step-mother had just gotten out of surgery, and it had gone well.  Her prognosis was excellent…that was great news.  My father sounded very tired – he’d been at the hospital all day.  Life indeed is suffering…my father certainly understands that, at least innately.  Most of us probably do.  But there are also just enough moments and instances of bliss to make it all worthwhile – wouldn’t you agree?  Look inside your own life and I think you will.  Over and out.

This entry was posted on Thursday, March 6th, 2008 at 1:16 am and is filed under Travel. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.