Tag Archives: Jodhpur

India day 35 – Jodhpur to Udaipur, Rajasthan

We take a taxi to travel the 280 kms from from Jodhpur to Udaipur for 2700 rupees.  The countryside is mostly flat, scrubby desert until we reach the small village of Ranakpur 90 kms north of Udaipur where it becomes … Continue reading

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India day 34 – Bikaner to Jodhpur, Rajasthan

In order to get to Udaipur in Southern Rajasthan we have to return to Jodhpur where we stay overnight and pick up a taxi tomorrow to take us the remaining 280 or so km.  Udaipur is very poorly served by … Continue reading

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India day 22 – Jodhpur to Jaisalmer, Rajasthan

As we walk down the road to the station at 4.30 in the morning there are a shocking number of people laid asleep across the pavements and many more lie outside the station, on the concourse, the platforms and even … Continue reading

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India day 21 – Jodhpur, Rajasthan

We had intended to leave Jodhpur today and travel west to Jaisalmer but problems making payment for the train tickets on the internet meant that had we had to delay booking for a day, by which time today’s train was … Continue reading

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India day 20 – Jodhpur, Rajasthan

We are gradually coming to appreciate that in
India things never quite happen the way they should.  For one thing the trains rarely seem to run on time (or not at least in our limited experience).  The electricity is bit of a hit and miss affair and anyone who can afford it has a back-up generator to provide minimum power for lighting and fans when the supply fails, which it seems to do fairly often.  This week there is no power in Jodhpur from 9am until midday and the Singhvi’s Haveli doesn’t have a generator, so we have been showering in the dark and sweltering without a fan.  The drain in the bathroom is blocked and the shower water has formed a large puddle across most of the bathroom floor.  We complained when we first arrived but it is only when we complain again today that anything is done about it.  The ATMs are temperamental;  sometimes paying out and sometimes not, sometimes they give 10,000 rupees and sometimes only 5,000 and we can’t work out whether the problem lies with our bank or the machines.

In India too, the centuries seem to collide;  the present day with the almost medieval and anything in between.    Mobile phones, broadband internet and wifi go hand –in-hand with antiquated drainage, standpipes and handcarts.  Domesticated animals are a commonplace sight in the streets, not only cows scavenging cardboard and paper, but pigs too snuffle amongst the rubbish  whilst dogs, a cats, donkeys and  camels, horses and even the odd elephant,  all take their place alongside the ‘Japanese horse’ better known as the moped, the rickshaw and the occasional car. 

I read an interesting story in yesterday’s India Times which encapsulates the essence of India.  Three days ago there was extensive flooding in Delhi as a result of the monsoon rains which brought parts of the city to a standstill for several hours and left people stranded in the streets.  This is despite millions of rupees having recently been spent on dredging the drainage system of mud and rubbish.  Why?  Because the silt and debris that had cost so much to remove had been deposited alongside the drains so that as soon the rains came it was washed straight back from whence it came!  

The Jaswant Thada is spectacular not only for its translucent white marble that glows orange and yellow when a beam of sunlight catches it or the fabulously carved decoration, or the array of delicate hatted towers that adorn the roof, but also for the incredible 360 degree views of Jodhpur city, the fort and the arid Rajasthani countryside beyond.  This cenotaph to Maharaja Jaswant Singh II was built in 1899 on a peaceful rocky plateau just outside the city and is set in a small garden.  There is an old man playing a stringed instrument with a bow that we have seen several times before while a young boy does a whirling dervish kind of dance for a few rupees.

 

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India day 19 – Jodhpur, Rajasthan

The impregnable Meherangarh, ‘Citadel of the Sun’, built by Roa Jodha in 1459, sits perched on huge rocky cliff casting its protective presence over this low-rise blue city.  The sheer walls trace the contours of the craggy rock in what must have been a formidable feat of construction.  The fort now houses a splendid museum run by the Maharaja of Jodhpur.  Fatehpol Gate the lower entrance to the fort is only a few minutes’ walk from the Haveli, but the climb up to the main gate, Lohapol, with its towering iron doors complete with spikes designed to prevent ramming by elephants, is steep and arduous.  There is a very good audio guide included in the entrance fee which takes us on a tour of the interconnecting courtyards and palace buildings and provides historical context  and information on the main buildings and exhibits.  There are some fabulous collections of howdahs, palanquins, cradles and an armoury with exquisitely decorated and preserved daggers, swords and guns including Akbar’s sword.  The buildings are beautiful examples of Rajput architecture with finely carved jalis (screens from behind which the women of the court could view proceedings without being seen), wonderfully carved detailing and over-hanging windows.  In the Coronation Courtyard is a lovely, carved marble throne on a long dais, used for the inauguration of the Marajahs of Jodhpur.  The Phul Mahal and the Moti Mohal are both fabulously ornate rooms, the latter plastered with crushed sea shells giving a mother of pearl sheen to the finish.

On our way out of the fort we pay a visit to the recently restored gardens with the intention of grabbing a spot of lunch at the restaurant there.  Both the garden and the restaurant are much publicised around the fort and it sounds like it could be rather nice.  There is an entry fee of 60 rupees for the garden and the restaurant is promoted on the reverse of the ticket.  We wander round the garden which is quite lovely, but we can’t find the restaurant.  When we enquire, it turns out there is no restaurant and the man on the gate gives no sign that there might be something ever so faintly ludicrous about advertising a restaurant that doesn’t exist.

Instead we have lunch at a rooftop restaurant in the old town which is owned by a Ajit Singh who has spent the last 20 years living in various parts of < ?xml:namespace prefix = st1 ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" /?>
London, including Southall and Golders Green.  Ajit very keen to get our feedback on the restaurant which he opened 18 months ago and to tell us his plans for improving it.  It’s certainly got lots of potential, but needs some finishing touches, such as cushions for the bottom-numbing iron chairs, some more awnings and perhaps some murals to make it less spartan.  He also has an arts and crafts shop on the ground floor at prices which appear to be considerably less than the emporium we patronised yesterday.  He’s seems genuinely concerned about tourists being over-charged and advises to us complain backed by threats to go to the police in an attempt to get our money back, which strikes us a bit extreme since they have not done anything illegal and we did after all agree a price we thought fair at the time.  Creeping cynicism makes us wonder whether his concern is motivated by a desire to see them go out of business.  Unfortunately you come across so many people who just want to fleece the tourist that you begin to question everyone’s motives.

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India day 18 – Jodhpur, Rajasthan

The haveli is even better in the daylight – our room opens onto a large second floor terrace over-looking the narrow lanes of the walled old city nestled around the base of the magnificent and austere Meherangarh Fort.  There is an even better view of this faded blue city from the roof terrace.  Down a steep flight of stairs is a large relaxation area with cushions, chairs and a Rajasthani fabric-covered swing.  Down another set of steep stairs is the restaurant overlooking the inner courtyard and exotically furnished with cushion seating, low tables and sari curtains. 

Two young brothers run the show:  one sports a  moustache which curls upwards in the Rajasthani fashion;  the other is clean shaven and seems a bit too ‘smooth’.  In fact, he turns out to be quite a devious character.  Apparently he is going to the local bazaar where the locals shop and it would be no trouble at all to show us the way, he can even point out a place to get good quality textiles at local prices.  At this point, of course, alarm bells should have started to ring, particularly as he preceded this offer with some chat designed to persuade us to change our plans and go to the bazaars in the morning and the Fort in the afternoon when both are less crowded.  We end up at a large ‘wholesale’ emporium and are gradually sucked in to the sales process.  Nonetheless, they have some lovely stuff and we buy a couple of bedspreads and a few other pieces.  It is not until later, as we wander around the Sardar Market and the surrounding shops on our own, that we discover other places selling similar stuff much cheaper – we’ve fallen prey to the commission scammers!   Ah well, they were still a bargain even at inflated prices.  But it does leave a bad taste in the mouth when the management of the hotel is in on the act.

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Jodhpur is one of the pleasanter Indian cities.    It’s jumble of quiet narrow lanes are frequented almost exclusively by people on foot and the ubiquitous cows.  The soft blue hues that once marked the houses of the Brahmin caste give the city an attractive appearance.  The bazaars that cut through the city teem with life and colour and manic auto-rickshaw drivers who weave recklessly in and out of the pedestrians, cows and mopeds missing them by inches.  The open drains that line either side of the lanes run with waste water and the front steps of houses and tiny, open-fronted shops make bridges across to the street.  Every conceivable item and service is available here:  locksmiths, tailors, sari sellers, kitchenware, bed linen, laundries, men ironing clothes, people cooking cauldrons of food over fierce flames, silversmiths, stationers – anything and everything piled warehouse like in cramped, box-like premises.  How do they ever find anything?  The shops are straight onto the street, so it is possible to pull up on a moped, make a purchase and drive off without ever having to dismount.  The once beautiful buildings, crumbling, unkempt and ingrained with centuries of grime, still retain a certain elegance with their intricate jails (screens) carved corbels and delicate over-hanging windows.

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India day 17 – Pushkar to Jodhpur, Rajasthan

We are rather sad to leave Pushkar;  it may be touristy, but it is an oasis of calm in the chaos that is < ?xml:namespace prefix = st1 ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" /?>
India.  No constant honking of horns, no traffic fumes, no crazy driving only the cows to side-step.  But having re-charged our batteries we are heading further west to Jodhpur.  The journey involves a taxi back to Ajmer to catch the train which takes six-and-a-quarter hours and numerous stops to cover the 244km to Jodhpur;  trains don’t travel very fast in India but at least they are cheap.  Even though it’s not an overnight train we are travelling in 3AC sleeper class which is one up from sleeper.  Seating is arranged in groups of eight, six on one side of the aisle and two on the other which convert to 8 bunks for overnight travel and no curtains – but at least there is air conditioning.  I shouldn’t think it is a pleasant overnight experience particularly if the carriage is full.  There is a distinct shortage of luggage space, but today there are only two women and a child sharing our section so we have plenty of room to spread out and can stow our luggage on the top bunk.

The little girl is about two or three and is very interested in the laptop and Andy’s game of Heroes.  The two women have taken up most of the available luggage space with several bags which it later transpires are mostly full of food.  As the journey progresses various dishes are prepared included some peeled and salted cucumber, a plateful of which is generously shared with us.

The train, as seems to be the norm, arrives about 35 minutes late, but our pick-up waiting for us on the platform.  We follow him to the rickshaw outside picking our way through the mass of people sitting or sleeping on mats on the station platform and on the concourse outside.  The rickshaw wallah is forced to take a detour to avoid a brightly lit procession of decorated horse-drawn carts parading through the street and on arrival wants 100 rupees for the fare, which by Indian standards is a expensive even for a lengthy rickshaw ride.  Besides the pickup is supposed to be free.  When we mention to the hotel manager that the rickshaw wallah wants paying it turns out that the correct fare is 30 rupees.

We are staying at the Singhvi Haveli in the old town, in what they claim is their best ‘suite’ – the Maharanis Suite.  It isn’t a suite, but it is quite stunning nonetheless with floor to ceiling murals in the traditional style and double aspect overhanging bay windows – shutters, no glass – with sills large enough to accommodate a chair.  One window affords a superb view of the Meherangarh Fort perched  on a rocky hill top 125m above us.  The haveli was gifted to the current owners’ ancestors by the Maharaja of Jaipur 400 years ago and is currently run as a hotel by two brothers, the 10th generation of their family to live in this fabulous old Rajput building.

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