Rejected in Jodhpur

Dates: 26 – 30 October 2017

Location: Jodhpur

Hotel: Discovery Guest House

If you have gotten used to and come to expect the content of a post to be in chronological order, you will be disappointed with this one.  4 days in one post in order of story telling and photo inserting ease.

Disappointment is actually a nice segue into the yarn about my Jodhpur movie career that never was.

Over a two of days we heard a couple of times about a movie being shot and that they were looking for western male actors.  The story even went that there was 1000 Rupees pay.  For sure it was another scam of some sort.

Mr fixer with his cast

Then over dinner, the owner of the restaurant confirmed it was true and we later met Michael who was pretty bloody excited because he had a speaking role in the film.  He showed us a photo of himself in a British soldier uniform and told us he had a speaking part.  It wasn’t much, only a couple of lines that he tried out on us, but it was a speaking part and he reminded us that it was his.

This now sounded like fun and the fixer told us meet at the restaurant at 0500hrs the next day.  We were there on time as was Michael, he mentioned his speaking part and that he was excited.  About 10 people gathered and eventually a car showed up to take us to the movie set.

Costume rack

It was being shot in the grounds of a huge luxurious hotel that someone mentioned was the most expensive in India.  I am pretty sure Michael didn’t tell us that, he was very busy rehearsing his speaking part.

Anyone who has been involved in movie making knows that the greatest skill you can have is to be able to hurry up and wait.  If you add this to being in India…well, you get the idea.

Here’s a surprise, the movie really exists!  Well, in production anyway.  Starring Rupert Everett who someone assured me was famous and I would recognise, it is called Swords and Sceptres and is listed in IMDb.  Doesn’t look like Michael is listed in the credits yet.

We were given breakfast and led around to the costume area.  A small group at a time we were assigned a role and a costume.  Michael wasn’t, he already had his role, in fact he told us he had been given another line.  Excitement.

Tiff looked pretty sharp as a private in the army.

Photographs weren’t allowed, but This Is India so photographs were taken.  Tiff fitted in well with the troops

See if you can spot Captain Michael.

No doubt you are keen to see me dressed up…

Shattered, along with some other short arses, we were told we weren’t needed.  When I asked the bloke to clarify if he meant just for this scene or at all he said (add strong Indian accent) “I think what I am saying is perfectly clear”.

After getting escorted a couple of times from the area where all the cast was waiting, I gave up and had fun catching a local bus back to the hotel area.  No choice, Mr Fixer was nowhere to be found.

The irony is that the scene involved all the soldiers in hospital lying on beds.  It wouldn’t have mattered if you were a dwarf or a giant.  Tiff had fun, earned 1000R ($10) and reckons he will be a featured dying soldier.  I was going to boycott the movie, but then I wouldn’t get to see Michael.

There is a crazy busy market around the clock tower.  Many of the stalls sell cheap utensils or bangles or textiles, but there are some gems to be found.  M.V. Spices is quite famous.  The business (like many) goes back generations and has good quality spices.  So great is their reputation that very nearby is M.G. spices, M.R. spices and others all trying to cash in on M.V.

The other thing about M.V. is that M. died a few years ago and had 7 daughters, no sons.  It is pretty unheard of for women to run a business, and already you know that another strong, independent, persistent woman story is coming.

Despite being shunned by other businesses and male relatives, these women are going from strength to strength.  They have 4 shops, a good listing in Lonely Planet and unlike M.R. and M.G. etc, M.V. don’t stand out the front hassling (bullying?) tourists to come into the shop.  They will even send product internationally and you pay later.  Unheard of! We sat for ages chatting and drinking chai and buying spices.

In the market, wandering a back lane I said hello to a merchant, he responded and it turned into a long chat about all sorts of things.  His son showed up and told me about his recent trip to Thailand where he did all the tourist stuff like tandem skydive diving and of course getting a tattoo.

Not just any tattoo, his mother had died a couple of years ago, so based on a photo on his phone, well, you can see the result plus his dad in real life.  Given how bad some similar tatts are that I have seen, this one was pretty good.

One of the cleanest best preserved and prettiest Stepwells is in Jodhpur.  It is also only a couple of minutes walk from Discovery Guest House. The area around it is becoming quite gentrified with really expensive hotels and designer shops.  On one hand this is a bit of a worry, as if it spreads, the character of the area is going to be destroyed.  On the other hand, anything that lifts the status of Stepwells is a good thing.

The stepwell cafe overlooks the stepwell but it is overpriced and you can’t even see in the well from the rooftop reclining area.  Forgive the stains on my shirt, I’d had a pretty good 50R head massage a little earlier and he dripped oil…

On my next wander through the market (it is close to the hotel so can be part of any walk) a guy offered to polish my sandals.  I laughed because as as I pointed out, sandals are mostly feet rather than sandal.

But like the 50R head massage and 50R shave, there are other 50R experiences to be had.  He did a really thorough job and now, compared to the sandals in the cafe photo, they now look pretty schmick.

Jodhpur is famous Mehrangah Fort.  A huge structure that sits above the city.  We went on a Sunday and while the fort is magnificent, it was way too crowded, so we didn’t last long.


Jodhpur is known as the blue city, it is mostly old Jodhpur below the fort.  The name is justified.

On a previous trip I passed an open field where there were textiles drying in the sun.  Back then I wasn’t smart enough or quick enough to tell the tuk tuk driver to stop.  This time, spotting the same field, I was.


Also very near Discovery Guest House is a small temple which I often stick my head in to see if something interesting is happenings.  This time I was rewarded with an invitation to a celebration that evening.

Lots of singing and rituals, it was quite fascinating.

I don’t do floor sitting very well and there seemed to be a no standing rule, even the restless kids were being sat down.  I eventually found a spot on some stairs that have the great view above.

One thing that constantly puzzles me is some tourists.  Here is this interesting looking event going on.  People are looking more joyous that serious.  Tourists attracted by the singing come up to the door and are invited in and all but one shied away.  What on earth are they doing in India if they refuse an invitation to a colourful, musical ceremony?

Especially when there is a table of food that looks like this!

I think I may have done Jodhpur now.  Unless someone wants to specifically come here on a future Kaka Tour I doubt I will be back, even if I get my own shop.


Next stop, Pushkar and the camel fair.  Plus an added bonus of Jasmine (my daughter) and Cam (her partner) arriving for a few days.

Final post of the tour, but not of the tour

Date: it might have been October 25th

Location: Bundi to Udaipur

Hotel: Dream Heaven

This is a warning to my future self.  On the 27th, in Jodhpur, you will grab your towel and flick your phone on to the floor cracking the screen.  The only good news is that it will match the screen on your tablet that you cracked in India in 2015.

I also implore you, dear reader, to ignore the date and time stamps.  They will be removed for the photo book.

Bundi had been so wonderful we were glad there had been a change of plans so we had Ajeet take us back for a second night there so we could continue to explore the town.

We had been coaching Ajeet about having a luxury tour as well as the backpacker tour.  They would both have the same daytime content, but different levels of meals and accommodation, so we went looking for luxury hotels.  We stumbled into the beautiful old Dev Niwas (god residences) which was not so much more expensive but certainly very exotic.

It even had a tunnel that connected to the fort so that the Maharaja and hopefully also the Maharani could make a quick and discreet escape.  Always handy if the tour group members are revolting.

Let’s pick up our walking tour, but in a different direction and including some photos that really should have been included yesterday, but you won’t notice unless I mention it… Oh, wait.

Some of the cooking implements you can hire when you are catering your own wedding.

Sometimes a simple attempt to hire some gear from a place playing dance music goes very right…


The Bundi backdrops are awesome


Great characters are everywhere.


When the weight of being a tour guide gets overwhelming, a 10 minute 50R head massage is just the thing

And what would a walk in Rajasthan be without discovering a new stepwell.  This one was behind a locked gate, fortunately the house where we asked who was the keeper of the key was the keeper of the key.

The water was quite grotty, but the entrance, with the gorgeous arch was one of the most beautiful I have seen.

We had heard about a peaceful lunch spot at a wildlife reserve outside town.  It was owned by the family of a bloke who had a run down backpacker hostel that had huge potential and a closed intimidating gate.

Not particularly expensive, this was the luxury lunch venue for sure.

As well as a lake full of lotus plants (not in flower unfortunately) it is also a working rice farm and harvest was under way.

I had a go at cutting the rice and threshing it.  You will have to take my word for it that this is bloody hard, hot, endless work for not a lot of money.  I am glad I only get to do it for fun, but feel a bit guilty that for these people it is their lives.

Then on to Udaipur passing way too many overloaded tractors.

but some of them are lovingly pimped, including a loud sound system.

As you will read, people in Udaipur won’t be as friendly as Bundi.  We all hope it doesn’t get spoilt by them hassling tourists and losing the welcoming spirit that is there now.


Part 2 of whatever the last post was called

Date: I forget

Location: Bundi and surrounds

Hotel: Shivam

A reminder that this is written a few days in the future of when it is dated, unless of course I have completely lost track of time.  And had a couple of Hayward 5000 beers – why do they even serve this Kingfisher shit?

Bundi, a couple of hours from Jaipur, may be my new favourite place in India.  The old town, with its beautiful fort perched above, is the quintessential “photo opportunity around every corner” place.

We started with chai (this is compulsory) and the best samosa I have ever eaten.  I can’t tell you what was so good about it and the seller likely won’t either.

The photo is a pretty typical street food setup, whether selling samosa or chai or whatever.  If you are freaked out by the thought of eating street food, I suggest you holiday at home, as sampling this stuff is one of the delights of travel.

It is coming up to wedding season in India, apparently it all starts on October 31st.  Weddings include a procession to the bride’s house with the groom sitting on a horse dressed like a Maharaja but looking like a terrified little boy.

You can see what a wonderful event an Indian wedding is. This is a photo of a pair of overjoyed newlyweds from 2016

When my posts eventually catch up to Udaipur and the cooking class, remind me to point out gorgeous daughter in law who met her husband only 30 minutes before they were married.  This is the norm with arranged marriages.

The good news is we have met a number of smart, powerful women who have rejected this and other traditional cultural “rules” e.g. that women shouldn’t run a business.  They all have a hard time with family and are working hard to succeed despite the disapproval. But the traditional wedding still rules.

You need a band to celebrate a wedding and in every city there are many to choose from.  They have little shops that I guess demonstrate whatever they are capable of.  From memory, this was the Azam band’s instrument selection.

Notice the hats in the cabinet on the back wall.  These bands are competitive and serious.  They aren’t that good though 😟

As we walked the back lanes people were friendly and invited us into their homes and businesses.  Bundi still has a lovely innocence about it, the shopkeepers don’t hassle you, it is very untouristy, hopefully it can stay that way.  Jasmine and Cam, you should visit Bundi.  You too Jodie.

Come walk with me…

Arms decorated with henna


They had just made a purchase from the motorcycle riding milk Walla. Buying like this, milk is unpasteurised, not homogenised.


Inside one house was this amazing well


View from access to the well


Too cute

There were bangle makers, people who hired BIG cooking utensils for parties, beautiful old houses, a hotel that had an old tunnel that connected from the fort and people who loved to meet us.

There was also a bit of effort put into having a more presentable tour group.

No, that is not hair on the cover sheet. Nor is it part of the pattern…well, it might be now 😛

On to Bhimlat Mahadev Falls. But not straight away.

We stopped in a couple of villages along the way, including one with the bhang shop.  Should I be a little embarrassed that bhang guy remembered me from last year?

This would just about kill you 😛 A typical lassi or whatever would be made with a piece the size of a marble and is a very adequate altitude adjustment.


A typical street side scene almost anywhere in India


Chaff storage


Proof that your donations do some good work

Last year the falls were peaceful and beautiful and calm and swimmable.  This year it was huge and raging and anything but inviting.  And still beautiful.

Even getting there was tricky.

These guys really wanted a photo with me, they took heaps of selfies.

It should be noted that men holding hands or with arms draped like this are simply good friends. It is not uncommon, and last night while walking us to a restaurant, the hotel owner’s son casually had his arm around my shoulder.  I think it is because he regards me as a friend.

The rest of the afternoon can best be summed up by What happens on tour stays on tour. I am more than happy to tell the story privately, but in fairness to a friend I won’t publish it.

Now that’s got you wondering, hasn’t it 😎

It was a slow drive back to Bundi and we made it safely.  Tomorrow, onward to Udaipur.

There is always one more stepwell

Untouring India Part 1

Date: 21 October 2017

Location: en route to Bundi

Hotel: Shivam

The idea of an organised tour gives me the willies.  I understand that it is exactly what some people want but being locked into strict schedules isn’t for me.  You are welcome to make me wrong and use the comments to go into bat for organised tours.

Having said that, and having done one during my last visit, we were off on a 3 day/2 night trip to Udaipur with Ajeet from Hathroi Palace Hotel.  Last time was awesome and I was fairly sure we wouldn’t be disappointed.

Before we headed out I managed to catch up with Anant and Swati who I met last year.  Swati is an artist and we went out for breakfast and then paid homage to her in front of her mural in the Chillout restaurant.

Our first stop was at a small factory (shop?) where they carve wooden blocks for textile printing.  The final result is quite intricate, but the process is actually fairly simple.  Take a block of wood and chip away all the “not design” to leave a raised pattern.

Finally out of Jaipur, India is getting more rural.  We are driving through small villages full of visual treats.

Much of India still doesn’t have running water.  There are well all over and seeing women (only) carrying water is quite common.

One of the great things about these tours with Ajeet is that everything is included.  We don’t have to put our hands in our pocket for anything except…well, that is for the next post.

We gave Ajeet some advice that it shouldn’t include beer.  Well, after this tour anyway ;o) Lucky for him we are light drinkers, but if he paid for it and people had a big session it would make a dent in his profit.  Having some older guests, especially a couple of accounting and management academics had us throwing ideas to help him improve his business.  He seemed keen to take much of it on board and it was lovely to be able to contribute to a young bloke in the early days of an exciting project.

“What is that crowd under the tree?” someone asked as we passed a big field where there was…you guessed it…quite a crowd under a tree.  Ajeet said ”Cricket.  You want to play?”.  But of course! We do a u-turn and drive across a big field covered in wheat stubble.  Much of the subtlety of this yarn will be lost on the UnAustralian readers.

Under the lone tree are about 20 young men standing in the shade.  The car stops, I jump out and scream AUSTRALIA!!!!  They look bewildered.

Before long we have challenged them to an India V Australia game (plus the UK represented by Jane) and it is match on.  We all stride out into the middle of the field where the stumps are set up.  There is lots of laughter and they are all taking photos and videos.

Dawne is first to bat.  The Indian bowler comes in and delivers what can best be described as a throw, it goes wide and a long way.  He is ribbed mercilessly by everyone and is immediately relieved as bowler.   The next ball sees Dawne connect, hit it over everyone’s head, and get a run.

Tiff is now batting and he belts the tennis ball a really long way causing some poor kid to be bullied into running after it.  We declared victory for the visitors and a tour photo was organised.  The whole thing was an absolute hoot and no doubt will be talked about for ages.

Back on the road and Ajeet points out some people digging a well.  It turns out they are actually deepening a well because the water table has dropped.  There were 4 or 5 men working at ground level.  About 20 metres down the well, standing in water, were 4 men loading rocks into the bucket of a crane.  This was connected to a standing engine blowing huge amounts of diesel fumes that hauled the bucket up where the arm was swung around and manually emptied.

At one point the cable came off the pulley

Watching all this hard work made us realise it had passed beer o’clock so we asked around and eventually found the beer walla down a back road.

I wanted to walk back while the group stocked up, there were some mud houses to photograph.  The rest of the group joined me and as usual it turned into a meet and greet with the locals.

Why on earth had we been drinking Kingfisher beer when Haywards 5000 was so much better… and stronger?

Onwards to the village of Toda Rai Singh, known for its stepwells.  While my tour group may be starting to appreciate them, I am not sure I have converted them into enthusiasts.  I think it will take repeated exposure.  There will be plenty :o)

In the back of another stepwell in the village (the 3rd we had looked at) was a bunch of houses and loads of photo opportunities, accompanied by a growing crowd of locals…as usual.

Not sure how the older bloke managed to photo bomb this one. The people were lovely and friendly and delighted to be in photos.

Sound like a full and action packed day?  It is not finished yet.

With all these stops, it was approaching sunset so rather than climb to a temple overlooking the lake, we headed to a different temple on the edge of the lake.

It was calm and peaceful as the sun sank slowly into the haze.

Not only does Ajeet know the best spots, he is also expert at finding the worst roads which are a special kind of fun at night.

We make it to Bundi fairly late and a black of planning plus some over confidence saw only 2 rooms available at Shivam.  Being tour leader I am also a special kind of special so I had a room and there was 3 in the other.  Ajeet sleeps on the roof.

I managed to get this post done because I got separated the others this afternoon in real time.

Stay tuned for Part 2 of the tour. I am only 4 days behind now.

Aaaaaarrrrrrgggghhhhh!!!!! I accidentally switched on time and date stamp. I can edit it out…at home, but too hard on a phone.

Post Diwali Day

Date: 20 October 2017

Location: Jaipur

Hotel: Hathroi Palace

I need help desperately.  This post covers the 20th October and I am writing it on the 24th.  Doesn’t sound like a problem, but we cram so much into a day that we all agree it feels like we have been here a month.  I am already so far behind I feel like declaring blog bankruptcy and doing a post of only photos.  But I know how this would break the heart of both the readers.

Perhaps I can employ someone to write my posts for me.  It would be cheap enough in India.  Though the truth is that I think wifi will be more accessible from here on which will make life easier.

Please suspend belief and assume that this was written and posted on the day I am talking about.  Ooh, there’s a novel idea, how about the date at the top of the post.

Last night was Diwali.  It was incredible.  There is a joyous atmosphere that is filled with the smoke and sound of uncountable fireworks.  In my last post I didn’t have time to include one of the great moments, when Puja was conducted at Hathroi Palace Hotel.  You are going to have to refer back to Diwali in Udaipur last year for more details on what this is.

There was quite a crowd of hotel guests at the ceremony.   Afterwards Ajeet said it wasn’t done particularly well by the priest.  I think I can say that without fearing priest will read this.

Back to today.  We decided on a half day tour of Jaipur with Ajeet.  This is a warm up to a 2 day tour starting tomorrow.

First stop was sunrise at the old fort and a new, unusual and beautiful stepwell.  Haven’t seen one that looks terraced before.

I may or may not have mentioned that a sunrise/set is sort of delayed by 15 minutes or so because of the haze.  You will never see the sun cross the horizon in India.

Then chai and a breakfast of paratha at the base of Amber Fort, where the elephants gather for tourists who have no conscience to ride them.  Did I really say that?  But it is how I feel.

I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face.  Although this photo is at a distance, it is only to fit them all in.  It was OK to be right there touching them and letting them smell my hand.  But there is no way I would ride one.

It is impossible for me to describe how awesome the experience was.  I keep wanting to add more here to try to share it, but I need to move on, I am on a deadline for dinner.

Chai and Parathas for breakfast is always a treat and still buzzing from the elephants we were in great spirits.

Next to another part of the fort where there were some very wild and very laid back monkeys.  The photo may make it look like they are tame, but they are quite nervous…unless you have food of course.

I am moving quickly here.  Knowing that Jane, Dawne and Tiff will read this I don’t mind saying that I don’t care if they don’t appreciate Stepwells as much as me.  They were about to visit another and you better get used to the idea that there are more coming…I have seen the future.

I am not 100% certain where we went next.  It is some sort of mausoleum and is beautiful for its symmetry.

There were so many ways…

…to photograph this place

Crap!  I just realised how much more happened that day and I am out of real world time.  Being the night after Diwali the streets were packed.  We walked and walked and had all sorts of encounters, including with the seller of fake moustaches.

And the sweets maker

Getting a tuk tuk back to the hotel was like new years eve, impossible, until we walked out of the party zone.  It was a remarkable night that I highly recommend to anyone.  Add your name in the comments to be considered for the 2018 Kaka Tour.

On and on I could go, but it is dinner time in the real world.

2017 India trip test post

Only 3 weeks until I leave for India, departing mid October, returning early November!

This year I am travelling with some friend and neighbours Tiff – who has never been to India – and Dawne – who has been once plus Tiff’s sister Jane, who lives in the UK.  We should have a really funny time together.

Having an umbrella theme is fun, while having an adventure there is an overall purpose.  2015 was Stepwells, 2016 was meeting people, this year the theme is music.


This has been a test post to check if my blog still works OK and posts to FB and G+

On my last legs

Location: Delhi

Hotel: Surya, one of hundreds along a road near the railway station

It’s taken a few days to write this, so some things are a bit out of sequence and tense.

Tomorrow (Friday) I head to Delhi for my flight home on Sunday.  I was looking for a photo in an early post and it is hard to believe that stuff happened only 5 weeks ago.  Feels like last year.  Places and events have melted together and it can be hard to remember what happened where and when.  This blog may help me piece it all together in the winter of !y life – next week.

I am not the first person who enjoys wandering aimlessly npt worried about getting lost.  I have some of the best experiences during my many trips by heading down lanes and towards something interesting.

I stumbled upon this group of kids crowded on a rickshaw about to be delivered home after school.  It is my new favourite photo this trip I think.


I was glad I also managed to get some video.

It is the start of wedding season in India so there is lots of dancing and really loud music into the night.

I’m tired.  My feet hurt from walking and each foot has a couple of cracks in the skin which are tender.  There’s no electricity in the area at the moment.  Last night I didn’t sleep well, too hot with a blanket, too cold without.  Someone is smoking in the hallway outside my room and it stinks. My flight is in 36 hours or so and I think my brain is in going home mode.

Walking from the metro station to the hotel involves walking over a footbridge that crosses the main, huge, New Delhi railway station platforms.  There is a steady stream of people crossing and as I approach the stairs a security guy – can’t call them a guard – shouts and points at a sign no entry.  I paused for a moment, remembered T.I.I. – This Is India – and followed all the other people who he hasn’t yelled at. He didn’t give a shit, which I imagine is part of the job description.

Can't you just picture the joy on the faces of kindergarten kiddies when they these colourful characters every morning?

Can’t you just picture the joy on the faces of kindergarten kiddies when they these colourful characters every morning?

Back in Jaipur I had a day to fill before heading to Delhi.  I had heard about Chand Baori earlier in the year and it was on my list of places visit.  I was planning to go last time in Jaipur but Ajeet took us on that amazing adventure.  So I decided to head there this time using local buses, it’s about 90km from the city.

First a bus 90 minutes down the highway to Sikandara. From Sikandara you catch either a jeep or tuk tuk 20 minutes to the village of Abhaneri.  I negotiated a price of R200 for the tuk tuk ride there, he would wait and then bring me back.  I don’t begrudge $4 for the service, but when I realise other people – he picks up as many as will fit in – are only paying R10 or R15 each way it irks somewhat.

Chand Baori is one of the biggest and oldest baoli and was truly spectacular.




I think the shipping might be quite expensive, but I really want doors like these from the back streets of Jaipur.


That’s it, it’s all you get this time.  Maybe one more post from Delhi and then home.



I did some things…

Location: Leaving Jaipur on an overnight trip to a village that apparently has 350 stepwells!

It is worth mentioning that the other day, when I realised the bus into Jaipur was only a couple of blocks from the hotel I was heading for – I track where we are on Google maps – I went to jump off as we stopped at some traffic lights.  The driver said “No get off in street”.  I wish I knew enough Hindi to respond with “Are you the same guy who drove on the wrong side of a divided highway, into oncoming traffic, to get to the restaurant for our 30 minute break?”.  But I don’t.

To continue the “sleeping anywhere” theme.



I don’t get how anyone could get any sleep on the seat of a cycle rickshaw, on a busy road, in the sun.  But I suppose if you work as hard as these guys do…

Started the day with a sweet lassi at a shop I remember from last time here.  I don’t know what they do differently to all the other lassi wallahs, but theirs are great.  I noted last time and it is worth repeating as it takes some getting used to, that with street vendors you eat or drink and when you are done, then you pay.

I like this because it means I hang around rather than eat or drink and walk.  And when you hang around, invariably someone will talk to you.  In this case it is the guy who owns the restaurant next door.  His English is pretty good and we banter for a while and mentions Australians are very tall, I explain that I am proof that isn’t true. Plenty of laughs.  I tell him I may come back for a meal…I never promise as I never know what will come up.

Crossing the road to walk in the shade the regular stream of auto drivers are hopeful of taking me somewhere, anywhere.  One young guy is quite friendly and wants to practice his English, Mohammed Sam from Afghanistan – sounds like the title of a kid’s book.  When he finds out I am from Australia, can you guess the first thing he says?  “Australians are very tall”.  It makes me wonder if there is some sort of conspiracy afoot.

We agree to meet in the evening for a beer and we end up at a rooftop hotel chatting and enjoying the view and fireworks going off all over.  And then his friend showed up…I think he was really drunk, maybe he was a bit crazy too.  But he was a pain and not entirely coherent.

You know that moment when you have started to trust someone and  enjoy them and suddenly a thought enters your mind “I wonder if these guys are setting me up?” and you can’t unthink that thought.  It was time to bail and Mohammed was actually apologetic for his friend. [Update a couple of days later] Stupid me, I gave him my whatsapp info…he is really keen to take me to a carpet factory…really keen.  I can always block him I suppose.

I have am idea for a dance beat and am collecting photos of the back of trucks for the video. We shall see if it !materialises at all.

I have an idea for a dance beat and am collecting photos of the back of trucks for the video. We shall see if it materialises at all.

I love wandering the streets of whatever city I am in, turning down random lanes and heading wherever looks or sounds interesting.  I was in the old part of Jaipur known as the pink city.  Down a few alleys heading more or less in the direction of a bazaar.

I glanced in a door and couldn’t believe my eyes.

Definitely not a Jewish god

Definitely not a Jewish god

These guys are 2m in length…yeah, yeah, head to toe.  Made of marble, and according to the guy who came out they make them right there, though the place didn’t look dusty enough…but who knows.  There was a couple of guys hand finishing some cast brass temple gods.  Another tortuous manual job, sitting on the floor, steadying the piece with their toes, filing and sanding by hand.  But it was the statues in the photo that pricked my attention.

Jumping all over the place chronologically, after the beer I wandered directly over the road to the restaurant I mentioned earlier.  I was indeed the honoured guest, actually I was the only guest in a 50 seat room.  This being my about my 60th day in India (in total) I have eaten a lot of Indian food.  But the vegetarian jalfrezi they served me was possibly the best Indian meal in my life.  I was glad I couldn’t eat it all so there was some for breakfast.


I’m going back there tonight and am faced with a quandary.  Do I have the same again, it was so good, or do  assume all their meals are this good and try something different…only to discover the jalfrezi is their specialty.  Life is so tough. (In the end I was too tired and ate in – still excellent)

This little girl was begging from cars stopped at traffic lights.  My instinct is to give something to kids who are doing something more than just asking for money.  They might be selling balloons or picking up plastic rubbish for recycling or anything, I will give them R10 and not take the balloon (or the plastic).


It’s easy to see why she was interesting.  I gave her R10 not planning to take a photo, then changed my mind.  When I asked her to come a little closer, out of the shade, what seemed like an automatic response was to put her hand out for money again 🙁   Then I showed her the photo and the look of surprise was great!  I don’t think she had any idea of the result of what was plastered on her face.

I am sure I have left out some stuff, this was 2 days ago now.  If you have read this far you get to hear the amazeballs story…of the trip most likely, and I have only been gone 1 week out of 5.

A month or 3 ago some how the Chand Baori came into my consciousness and despite baolis being so ‘last trip’ they are still fascinating.  I mentioned to Ajeet, the hotel owner, that I wanted to go, asking how to get there and he suggested a different trip, overnight, inclusive of everything – food, accommodation, snacks, drinks, everything – for R4,000 ($80).

A tour?  I never do tours but it sounded like an idea and we agreed to leave on Thursday.  He has included an Italian and a French woman and the four of us head off…I have pretty much no idea where we are going.


I already know one of the things I am looking forward to and that is being able to say “stop here”. In the photo above we have just been given some peanuts by the people harvesting them.

The drive out of Jaipur is an experience in itself dealing with Indian traffic.  Pure insanity, but somehow it all works with no aggression. The trip to Toda Rai Singh where there is a bunch of baoli takes a couple of hours.  One baoli is in very good condition and reasonably popular.  Because we have no real itinerary, we hang there for at least an hour sitting, talking, exploring.


This is a different baoli…

Speaking of popular, i feel for my poor female companions.  They constantly attract a following of men tagging along at a distance they might feel doesn’t make their tagging along obvious but only helps to accentuate it.  Fuck creepy Clowns, this is creepy men.  Yeah they are only a little creepy, but I can see how and why it gives the girls the shits.  We even played a little game drawing them from one place to another and back again.


This is that baoli ;o)

They mostly don’t hang this close, this was a photo op, but any opportunity to come close to talk to Ajeet is taken. It is funny in a sad way.

We go from here to several other not as spectacular but still interesting baoli in Toda Rai Singh.  There’s also a quite amazing very old temple that was destroyed by one attacking horde or another.  They have taken pieces of the wreckage and built a makeshift structure around the idol.  Why didn’t I take any photos here?

And then to a quiet quiet peaceful temple complex around a lake.  This is the quintessential there is no way photos can do this place justice place.  In photos the pinks aren’t pink enough, they can’t convey the stillness and peace, something so hard to find in India.  We sit for another hour soaking the place up.  Are you getting  a sense of the pace of this trip?


By now it is about 4PM and we climb up a pretty rough track to another abandoned temple.  But they aren’t really abandoned.  The structure is often really dilapidated, but there is always some one maintaining the inner sanctum, so to speak.  This will probably be in bad shape too, but more from the many many years of love and devotion to whatever god is represented.


To set the scene, it is now late afternoon, the light is beautiful?  See the series of arches stretching to the right?  On top is a pathway that leads out like a huge diving board giving 300 degree views of the city, the other 60 degrees is the temple and the hill.


Spectacular?  An understatement.  We sit here watching the sun disappear into the haze before it finally sets, out of sight.  But don’t let me spoil the moment, it is beautiful and we are having the time of our lives. Laughing, exploring, hanging out, interacting as best we can with the locals.  This is an untour of the highest order.

Who thought to put an LED torch in the back of phones?  Thanks.  But for that the trip back down in the dark would have led to a claim on my travel insurance for death or permanent injury.


I want to learn how to tie a turban like this. It was standard dress in this village.

Then we head off for the 2 hours drive to Bundi for the night stopping at a roadside restaurant for another great meal, ending up at Visham Hotel with a great host family and the biggest rooms I have seen in India.

Will I break the next day into another post?  Nah, too much to tell.

Breakfast in the rooftop restaurant of Visham includes monkeys scooting past and over the rooftops, views of the fort, cow watching and 2 fried eggs on toast done to perfection…you don’t know tricky it is to get any Western food that doesn’t have a unique Indian touch.  I am reminded of French Toast in Bodh Gaya which was essentially a piece of toast wrapped in a pancake.


This man has a little store that sells among other things paan, which is in all those hanging packets.  Paan is made from betel nut leaves and can probably best be described as the Indian version of Red Bull.  I didn’t realise this, I thought it was more about the taste than anything…naive idiot westerner.

At some point during the previous day Ajeet bought some paan and after the initial oral shock of bitterness and something I can’t even name, it became quite a pleasant taste, and there is a gentle buzz.  Apparently it can be addictive, not for me though I am happy I tried it once – I tried it last trip too and couldn’t hold it in my mouth for more than a few seconds.

Are you getting the idea of how this untour is going?


We spend the morning touring the fort, including a fantastic tour of the really old paintings in the women’s quarters, with the “caretaker” taking lots of time and giving us wonderfully detailed information about the stories.  It was nice to see that this is all being protected behind lock and key and he was mindful we didn’t touch anything, I hope he is passing on his extensive knowledge.


Off we head to the next mysterious location.  Along the way, as well as stopping for chai, snacks and photos, we stop at what I think would be called a bhang shop.  Essentially it is a doorway with a bit of space the size of your toilet room.  Bloke has various sizes balls of pulverised cannabis leaves for sale.  And it seems that is all he sells, another “how on earth does he make a living” moment. Note that this is perfectly legal and government regulated (but how much?) in India.

Ajeet purchases a R60 serving, about the size of a golf ball. For R10 the portion is about the size of a grape.  It is mixed with some buttermilk and flavouring and looks and smells like the average Australian green smoothie – scrumptious.  Being about 11 in the morning I decline my own serve but I have a taste, nothing special but quite salty from the flavouring sachet. Pauline finds it too salty to drink her small glass, about 1/5 the size of a full serve so I gallantly offer to finish it off.

We turn off along a back road worse than most I have seen, deeper we go along an even worse (if that is possible) dirt road until we end up at a barren looking spot with a stream running through it.  I am feeling pretty good by now.


This man is a local villager, just finished his washing. You can see the sort of landscape

We walk over to the edge, intrigued by a lush valley we can see below.  And there – we are speechless – is a spectacular waterfall, the last thing I expected to see.


We have brought some flowers to give to the holy man at the Bhimlat Mahadev Temple we must pass through as we wend our way to the bottom of the valley.  Had this been smooth going it would have been much easier now that the taste was sneaking up on me.


This place was so unexpectedly beautiful it was hard to take in.  On one side the roaring waterfall, on another, the rocky, rubbish strewn path back out, on another side a tranquil lush meandering stream, a complete contrast to the waterfall that was its source.

We had the place to ourselves, apart from the monkeys who apparently liked to pinch bags and things.  We put all our stuff into one bag and then put in on the ground next to a rock and it blended right into all the rubbish (you probably think I am kidding).


The water was beautiful to swim in despite the rocks being treacherously slippery and I am still in awe, mostly because it is so out of character compared with the surrounding landscape. By now I am extremely thankful that I didn’t go for the R60 serving if my state of almost complete incapacity was from a small glass.


This is our almost last stop, there is still a meal to be had on the way home and by the time we get back it is about 7PM, we’ve been gone a day and a half, great value. I am still cruising.

But more than just good value for Rupees, it is one of those trips of a lifetime…within a trip of a lifetime.  Some things I will never forget and this is one of them.  If you are coming to Jaipur, find Hathroi Tours on Facebook.  You really should do one of the 9 trips on which Ajeet can take you.


Rishikesh seemed like a good idea, but I would have to go through Delhi.  So instead I leave tomorrow for Pushkar for a few days then to Udaipur for Diwali on Sunday.

I will tempt fate by saying that I haven’t gotten sick at all.  Last time there was an initial WTF? from my guts, his trip it is like “oh, this again”.

And I bought some carpets.


We’re here to help…

Were you eagle eyed enough to spot the (uncorrected because I can’t be bothered) mistake in the last post?  Red Fort was actually in Delhi, in Agra is Agra Fort, so mentally move that part of the post to the previous one.

The exciting news is that this gives me the opportunity to include a shot of yet another baoli!  It’s a pretty boring one, with a steel grating over it, though marked as a baoli. And quite tricky to find despite asking at least 10 staff, it is more of a well, unless maybe the steps were filled in some time in the past.

Agra Fort baoli

Agra Fort baoli

Generally railway stations, though busy, bustling crowded places, are quite sedate – if that is not a contradiction.  There are families sitting, eating, sleeping waiting patiently for their train.  A wave of people leaves on a train, the station fills up again and the cycle repeats.

Agra station was different.  For a start, every other station I have boarded a train has illuminated signs along the platform that tell you where your carriage is, but not in Agra.  More than that, there was a lot of young men, some of them standing blatantly staring at Sheila, while not threatening, it was decidedly creepy.

Suddenly we have some people attach themselves to us, but instead of the touts and hasslers it is Nicola from the UK and Eddie from Scotland. With all the creepy, but apparently harmless, openly staring men they felt more comfortable in a “safety in numbers” situation, we all got on well and shared stories and they told us about the hotel they were heading to in Varanasi, so it was a fortuitous meeting.

Then the train arrived.  I have seen some mad moments and this was one of them.  All the young men were in general seating i.e. no reserved seats, so there was an insane rush for the train with about 20 guys at each door jostling and pushing tying to get into an already crowded carriage that people were likely trying to get out of.

The trains come into a station quite slowly, perhaps this is not official policy, but I think it is to allow people to jump on and off before it stops with out actually killing themselves.  So we got to see our carriage go past (they are all clearly marked – mostly) and keep going down the platform.  This meant we had to jostle through the already jostlers and work our way down to our carriage.  The train was 45 minutes late and I was a bit concerned it might do a stop and go like the buses, so I was leading the foray past families sitting eating and sleeping with men forming a bit of a barrier to stop them being trampled…not in a dangerous trampling sense, but it would have been not pleasant to have either young guys or us in the middle of their chappatis.

Camouflaged goat. The colouring was actually quite unusual and beautiful.

Camouflaged goat. The colouring was actually quite unusual and beautiful.

I guess on Back to the Future Day I can romanticise and say that we woke up in Varanasi, time and location having changed while we slept.  The usual auto ride through busy streets, this one more fun because we are jammed into an auto with Nicola and Eddie and their backpacks.  I get to sit hang on in the front with the driver – I am reminded of a time when sailing on a big boat Cruz Control and a wrist strap caught on the boom and it swung out over the side of the boat way out in the ocean with me hanging on. Can’t decide which was more dangerous.

The lane outside our hotel one afternoon. Fortunately we were coming in from the other end. The Hindi word for cow is "gai" and I do love most of the cows, they are placid and care free and at the top of the traffic pecking order...and they know it.

The lane outside our hotel one afternoon. Fortunately we were coming in from the other end. The Hindi word for cow is “gai” and I do love most of the cows, they are placid and care free and at the top of the traffic pecking order…and they know it.

The auto can’t get us quite to the Sarai River View Hotel, the last 100m or so is down some narrow lanes, I remind Sheila that at the end of every dingy lane is a surprisingly great hotel.  Up to a room and there in front of us is a balcony with a most wonderful view over Assi Ghat and the Ganges.

The balcony and view from Sahi River View hotel Varanasi. We didn't mind

The balcony and view from Sahi River View hotel Varanasi. We didn’t mind this spot at all.

The story we heard was that The Ganges was formed when the goddess Shiva took a shower and is the holiest of Hindu places, it is likely one of the most polluted of India’s places.  If Shiva is anything like us, she took multiple showers a day to wash off the sweat, the grime and the Ganges water, but I can’t find a reference to that.

Just south of where we were staying was the Assi river, or more appropriately, the Assi cesspool cum drain.  It is the most vile waterway I have seen and it flows directly into the Ganges just upriver from the intake towers for the city’s drinking water.

How are we going with the picture I am trying to paint of the state of The Ganges?  Let me continue…

At monsoon time the river comes up and dumps metres of silt along the ghats.  For the next few months they use high pressure hoses to wash the silt back into the river clearing the ghats… they haven’t finished yet this year and some places were quite treacherous.  The 1984 flood record is marked on some very high walls about a metre or so from the top, can only imagine what it looked like.

Silt on the banks of The Ganges, Varanasi

Silt on the banks of The Ganges, Varanasi

Add to the river the fact that most of India is not sewered.  A Lonely Planet guide statistic from 2009 says that the safe levels of E. coli is 500 parts per million but the water was measured at 1.5 million ppm (the link above says it is far worse).  Doesn’t stop people swimming, washing, bathing and being interred in it.

Sunrise, the red tinge is caused by air pollution which is awful right across India

Sunrise, the red tinge is caused by air pollution which is awful right across India

Which leads to one of the things Varanasi is noted for, the cremation ghats.  We headed to the old city and stopped for a sugar cane juice.  Walla didn’t have any change so bloke standing there helped us out a bit.

The cycle rickshaws are all decorated on the back

The cycle rickshaws are all decorated on the back

It is important that I define “helping out” because it is a recurring theme for the day.  When a person offers to help – and I admit this is only 99.99% of the time – it means they have something to sell.  This guy hooked up with us and wanted to take us to his shop despite me telling him we didn’t want to buy anything.  As we walked he was always just behind our just ahead or just over the road keeping pace.  We ducked into an alley being suddenly interested in sandals, for a while I thought we had lost him, but there he was waiting for us to emerge.  Note to self: next time duck into shop in alley so he can’t see you in alley.

Down a lane pointing to the Vishnawath Temple, our first planned stop.  Helper is still with us.  I can’t remember quite how it happened but he stopped helping us only to be replaced (or was it usurped?) by someone else who helped us when a shopkeeper didn’t understand English. IMG_1149(1)

This helper stuck with us for almost 2 hours.  I made it clear we weren’t interested in buying anything but he hung in there knowing a softie when he spotted Sheila.

In fact he was a pretty good guide, he explained lots of things, took us to the cremation ghats (wait for it…) and the government bhang shop.  This one sells ganga overlooking The Ganga.  And what a range they had, balls, cakes, patties and no doubt other delights.  This is for locals only apparently.

We always try to support the local economy

We always try to support the local economy

It ended up that we couldn’t get into the temple, you need your passport and I don’t carry mine when not heading to a new city.  So we wound our way down to the main cremation ghat and were handed to a guy who specifically told us he didn’t want to help (if you get my drift) but ended up being more helpful than we expected.

Up a couple of flights off stairs to a balcony in the building and we were directly overlooking the cremation fires – we were close enough that it was hot and smoky.  Bodies are wrapped in cloth then covered in a bright outer wrapping of material and carried to the ghat through the alleys on bamboo stretchers with someone walking ahead calling that they are coming through.  We saw this once and as you would, respectfully stepped aside.

Once at the river the body is rinsed briefly in the water, left to dry for a while then placed on a pile of timber which is set alight by a family member.  The flame comes from Shiva’s fire that we were told has been burning continuously for 2,500 years.

Piles of wood ready to cremate people

Piles of wood ready to be taken to the ghat to cremate people. The amount needed per body is surprisingly small.

At any one time there are 8 or so cremations at various points of completion; some just started, some partly burned, some finished.  They burn over 200 bodies a day and it is all very matter of fact with guys using long bamboo poles to stoke the fires and “rearrange” the contents – I will leave the detail at that despite the whole process being quite graphic at times. Obviously no photos allowed and it isn’t something I would have photographed anyway.

We went in fully understanding that a donation towards wood for cremation was expected.  It was explained to us by the guy who was becoming more and more helpful that people come there to die and his organisation helps them at the end of their life.  They are often poor and wood is Rs150/Kg with quite a bit needed each time.

This sounded like a good thing to support so I gave a woman we were introduced to Rs1,000 ($10).  Sheila was then told money had to come directly from her hand so she handed over 100.  Then we were introduced to another woman and were expected to hand over money again.  No way I was funding that much again so we each handed 100 and in return received a WTF withering glare.  Now if the money is going into a slush fund to help the poor, why does it matter who we give it to?  Just sayin’.

Once outside, the helpful guy who assures us he wasn’t helping is suddenly very helpful “something for me and my family and baby daughter?”. Another 200 and while the value isn’t a lot, I hand it over with gritted teeth feeling like we have been spun another story.

Every one has a story.  Another guy the next day told us he has met John Saffran and had been in the Race Around The World series.  Despite assuring us he wasn’t at all helpful he also had something to sell.

Back at the ghat we have emerged into the alleys and of course helpful guy is ready continue the tour.  Because Sheila feels obliged we end up back at his shop which, as I suspected, has nothing that interests us.  I say to helpful guy that we are leaving, we appreciate his help and hand him Rs200.  He looks at me and says “is that all?” and while not exactly snapping, I have had enough, decide to say what is on my mind and tell him “you followed us, we told you we didn’t want you to, be thankful you got that” which – shock horror! – worked and he shut up and walked off.

We now have a code phrase that we say to each other, “I think he is trying to help” which means one of us has realised that here we go again.

The case for witches hats. Guy (with supervisor) had just hand painted this line on a busy railway station platform and walked away jut leaving it to dry.

The case for witches hats. Guy (with supervisor) had just hand painted this line on a busy railway station platform and walked away leaving it to dry.

I could go on and on about Varanasi.  We spent 3 days here and watched evening services, took a sunset ride on the river, did yoga at dawn, ate at great restaurants, bought clothes, had a massage and finished it with Sheila getting Varanasi Assi, but I didn’t – after almost 6 weeks I think I am now immune.

Oh one more thing.  Varanasi also has a baoli and this one was especially cool as it is a working stepwell.  There is an active temple adjoining it and women wash their clothes in the water.  It is the best maintained of all I have seen.

Baoli, Varanasi

Baoli, Varanasi


You will be either pleased or disappointed to know that I think I have run out of baoli…but we haven’t checked at our next stop, Bodhgaya.

For Taj

Moving quickly now to try to catch up.  Generally, booking trains and buses is really easy using the ClearTrip app on my phone, it will give a range of trips available at a range of prices.  Found the perfect bus from Delhi to Agra but could not make the payment work, maybe because it is an international debit card…sigh…

Day 3 and off we go to Agra

Day 3 and off we go to Agra

But we knew the bus name, from where it left and at what time.  A local bus ride to the Sarai Kale Kahn bus station and as we step off into a dusty field with a bunch of food vendors and a few buses some guys shout “Agra” ad indicate their bus.  It isn’t quite the Uttar Pradesh Transport Company Volvo, but it is clean, looks comfortable, is half the fare and conveniently it is right in front of us so on we get.

The 4 hour trip wasn’t too bad apart from stopping all stations, sometimes in the middle of nowhere along the express way to pick people up or drop them off.  Bizarre thing was that rather than half way, after about 3.5hrs, in sight of Agra they decide to do a food and toilet stop, I can only assume the bus guys get a free feed for bringing in a bus load.

At one point along the way I look out the back window and there it is, the UPTC Volvo, right behind us.  Yes it looked more comfortable but we were doing the Real IndiaTM thing.

The Volvo we didn't catch

The Volvo we didn’t catch

Getting off the bus there was a Rs40 charge for the luggage underneath (they get you coming and going) and the usual bit of a kerfuffle because we didn’t have the exact change.  One bloke steps out of the throng of auto drivers that has surrounded us and offers to front the Rs40, we decline and sort it out, but this guy speaks English, has a lovely smile and his ploy works.  We hire him to recommend and take us to a hotel.  This actually turned out to be a wise move on everybody’s part as after a few laughs along the way and getting into the hotel we book him to do the Agra tourist thing the next day.

Non aggro Agra auto driver.

Non aggro Agra auto driver.

We always try to arrive in a town early morning if going by train, or with a short-ish bus ride like this one early afternoon.  So after settling into the superficially OK but actually mediocre hotel we went for a walk to the railway station on a mission.  Often with train tickets the trains are overbooked and you start out on a waitlist.  I have never missed a train because a waitlist hasn’t been confirmed, but I do like to stack the odds in my favour. I wanted to try to convert our waitlist into an Emergency Quota tickets or Foreign Tourist Quota (haven’t managed this one yet).  The train was booked for our trip to Varanasi, but still not confirmed.

A casual walk along dusty roads, past cows, goats, pigs, dogs, burning rubbish and a kid defecating in the street had us quickly falling in love with Agra.  We failed to upgrade at the station and out the front asked an auto driver if he could take us to somewhere we could have a beer.  Of course he could , for Rs30 – cheap!

It was cheap because we were conned – it was about a 5 minute walk, if that.  The bar was dingy, Sheila was the only woman, but the beer was cold.

Cheers beers

Cheers beers with street peanuts

The auto rickshaws are one thing, the cycle rickshaws are something else.  These poor buggers work hard for less Rupees because they are much slower.  It is not uncommon to see them out and pushing up even the slightest of hills.  We caught one back to the hotel, I helped push and offered to cycle for the driver, but it would cost him Rupees (cue laughter).

Rickshaw driver doing it tough on the hill, I got out to make the load a bit lighter.

Rickshaw driver doing it tough on the hill, I got out to make the load a bit lighter.

Next day was the big day, one of the highlights we were looking forward to, the Taj Mahal.  Everyone who has been there says that the photos, while beautiful don’t do it justice.  We had seen a glimpse of it from a long way off the previous day and it was definitely alluring.

An early start, the heat in the middle of the day is pretty stifling.  There is quite a strong security presence, metal detectors, a quick frisking (my favourite part).  Actually security is apparently strong in lots of places, but it I reckon it is mostly a sham.  You walk through metal detectors that beep, no one cares.  People are half watching the screens on the x-ray machines.  In the streets or at venues police with sub-machine guns are sitting chatting, paying as little attention to the goings on as possible.  If the attack they are there to prevent ever happens, I reckon they will also defecate in the streets.

The Indian cops would win Movember

This cop is good, but we have seen others who would shame him for Movember

Once in, the approach to the Taj Mahal is through the main gate which is awesome in its own right.


No, this is not the main gate, but I love this shot.

I made sure I didn’t peek until I had the full view and they were right, it is a most beautiful building.  The whole place is very symmetrical, the layout of other buildings, gardens.  Even the Taj Mahal itself is exactly the same height as its width.

As we walked towards it, it dawned on me just how big the building is, something you just don’t get in photos.  And it is white, glaring white marble

Taj Mahal

The main approach to the Taj Mahal – note the size of people standing on the forecourt

It is pretty crowded but not to the point of being annoying.  Given that Indians get in for Rs20 compared to Rs750 for foreign tourists it is no surprise that the place is packed.

From there to the Red Fort.  Please refrain from “not another bloody fort” comments.  Instead you can write “not another bloody baoli” comment because tucked away, behind locked gate but broken fence was this beauty with an octagonal well.

Baoli Red Fort, Agra

Baoli Red Fort, Agra


Octagonal well at baoli, Red Fort Agra

Octagonal well at baoli, Red Fort Agra

Next stop, Varanasi

Getting ready for a night time marriage parade. I would love to see this in action.

Getting ready for a night time marriage parade. I would love to see this in action.