No more walking for us, at least not while we are in Jaipur. Jaipur is much better viewed from the back of an auto-rickshaw – far less tiring and it doesn’t seem quite so filthy. So we hire Muktar Hussein and his rickshaw at 400 rupees (£5) for about five hours. On our agenda are the famed < ?xml:namespace prefix = st1 ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" /?>
Pink City, City Palace and Amber.
The Pink City is surrounded by a crenulated wall which was painted pink in 1876 by Maharaja Ram Singh in honour of a visit by the then Prince of Wales. Originally build in 1727 by Jai Singh II it follows a grid layout with wide intersecting boulevards cutting swathes through the city dividing it into nine artisanal areas. There are 100s of shops in the vibrant bazaars that line the boulevards; all painted pink and carrying black Hindi script on their fascias which gives the old city a very uniform appearance. It’s teeming with people and the traffic is horrendous – the usual mayhem of rickshaws, mopeds, cycles, horse and carts and cows all vying for position as they weave in and out of any available space.
In the heart of the Pink City is City Palace, the official residence of the current Maharaja and home to the Maharaja Sawai Man Singh II Museum. Like much of the old city it is painted pink with contrasting white highlights. It is a vast complex of beautifully preserved buildings and courtyards, fabulously decorated ceilings and delicate frescos. Entering through the Virendra Pol the first building to greet you is the lovely Mubarak Mahal (Welcome Palace) a blend of Rajasthani, Moghul and British architecture which was designated the world’s most beautiful building of the twentieth century by some august body, the name of which I forget. An armoury is housed in the former quarters of the Maharani, a grand building with the sumptiously decorated ceilings. The Diwan-i-Khas is a cool, open-sided marble pavilion which houses two enormous matching silver vessels that are in the Guiness Book of Records as the largest in the world. A group of women in vibrant, richly decorated saris sit amongst the pillars applying intricate henna patterns to each other’s hands. In the Pitnam Niwas Chowk courtyard four ornately painted gates represent spring, summer, autumn and monsoon. Two have been lovingly restored and a third is work-in-progress. There are several shops around the palace selling clothes, trinkets, souvenirs and jewellery and we have been advised by our driver that they are over-priced, no doubt to discourage us from making any purchases before he has a chance to take us to some factory shop where he will earn a commission.
We lunch at Ganesh, a tiny restaurant situated on top of the city wall which, despite the suspect interior, serves really tasty food. We take a short stroll along Bapu Bazaar which specialises in clothes and shoes, but with shopkeepers continually hassling us (Indian shoppers don’t get the same treatment) it’s impossible to browse in peace. So we retreat back to the rickshaw and head off to the Amber Fort.
Amber is situated in green hills about 11 km outside Jaipur. Part fort, part palace, it’s faded pink walls loom high above us sitting on a rugged outcrop and it’s quite a climb to the entrance particularly in the heat. The outer fortifications which encircle this fortress palace and the town that nestles under its walls, hug the contours of the surrounding hills. Once the ancient capital of Jaipur state, it is in remarkably good condition considering it dates back to 1592. Built by Maharaja Man Singh and later extended, it is a labyrinthine palace with some striking buildings: the sandstone and marble Diwan-i-Am pavilion which remarkably wasn’t sacked by the invading Moghuls; the small and intricately carved marble Sila temple; the exquisite Ganesh Pol (gate) decorate with a delicate floral mural looking as fresh as the day it was first painted (almost); the oh-so-over-the-top Jai Mundir with its mirror-encrusted facade and opposite across a formal courtyard garden the Sukh Niwas (Hall of Pleasure). The buildings of the women’s harem, by contrast, seem rather plain and uninspiring.
As anticipated Muktar’s suggests we might like to visit a textile factory shop specialising in block printed fabrics and since he will earn a commission for taking us, we agree to go along. After all we might see something we like. But after looking at several bedspreads and wall hangings of rather indifferent quality we extricate ourselves and return to the hotel.