people – Page 4 – Travels

Namaste

Posted on November 3, 2015 by Steve

That’s all folks. The actual adventure is over but the memories will linger…which is why we do such things.

There are a lot of beliefs and myths and stuff about India that you hear, this is my annotated list of things I wish I had known before I went.

India is amazing – it is everything you do and don’t expect and more. India is an assault on all your senses. It is colourful, friendly, frustrating, noisy, crowded, spectacular, religious, smelly, funny, not punctual (mostly – but who cares) and absolutely fantastic.
Pack light – if I ever go again my entire wardrobe would be 1 pair long pants, 1 pair shorts, 2 cotton shirts, 1 pair sandals/thongs. That’s it. You do not need shoes, I carried a pair for 7 weeks that I only wore on the plane over. If you go north in the winter you might need a jacket. Obviously this doesn’t count for women, you will still need your entire wardrobe.
Water is not such a hassle – I didn’t intentionally drink tap water but I am sure I ingested it many times in drinks, food and the like. I likely brushed my teeth in tap water out of habit. Don’t freak out about it especially after you have been there a while and gotten accustomed to the flora. Drinking water is available everywhere, absolutely everywhere, for Rs20 (40c) for a 1 litre bottle

Not everyone speaks English – this was a bit of a surprise as I had assumed they did, even if not well. Also, not everyone speaks Hindi, especially in Tamil Naidu. I learned a handful of Hindi words and could count and then couldn’t use any of it the last week in the South. Speak in simple sentences even to English speakers. Don’t say “Can you tell me the way to the railway station please” say “Which way railway station?”. More often than not people will go out of their way to help you. Those that don’t will simply point in the general direction or give you a head waggle.
Head Waggle – yes it is endemic, here is what it means:
See that little golden spot where all the circles intersect? THAT is the meaning of the head waggle…I think
Money is easy – get yourself a Citibank debit card. No fees, they do a straight 3% loading on currency conversion, it can be used in ATMs everywhere to get local currency (watch for those that charge a transaction fee). The only problem was some online booking won’t accept a foreign debit card, shop elsewhere, there is always an alternative to buy exactly the same thing.
Trains are the best way to travel – install the Cleartrip app, easily the best way to book trains. If you are travelling overnight get yourself a 2AC seat this is 2nd class Air Conditioned. You get a bed and linen including a small towel. If you are not that fussy get a sleeper class, reserved bed but that’s all you get. Avoid general seating at all costs. Don’t freak out if a train is full a couple of days before and you are wait listed with up to 10 in front of you. In the whole time I was only not confirmed once, that was with The Sheila (she was confirmed) and we both travelled anyway. For trips to the airport and the like Uber and a local version, Ola, also work well. If you get an overnight bus, be sure to get a sleeper, they are pretty good.
Buy a local SIM – cheap as and even if just for using Google maps it is well worth it, especially since they don’t make station announcements on trains so you can check where you are. You will also get SMS notification about train bookings and the status of your ticket. I used Airtel, would likely choose another company next time, it was pretty slow internet.
You will get sick – maybe not very sick, I didn’t. But I definitely (and still) had stomach upsets that were more an inconvenience because you need to be aware of the nearest convenience. I took an arsenal of antibiotics for every ailment you could think of. Probably better to be prepared than need to go looking for it when you are feeling awful, but I do feel it was overkill. You can buy any drug over the counter at Medical Stores, even down to asking for how many tablets you want and they will be cut off the strip.
Eat street food – obviously not everything you see, but if it looks good, there are lots of people eating i.e. it is fresh and you are hungry, go for it. Street samosas are the best, don’t be surprised to see someone in front of you feeling them to make sure they are hot. I really enjoyed fresh sugar cane juice too, very refreshing and a bit of an energy boost. When you buy street food it is expected that you stand and eat and drink it before you pay for it. Also, if you need more sauce on your samosa, just ask.
Hotels are mostly good – this is a no brainer, you generally get what you pay for. Anything over about Rs700 will be reasonable, feel free to check the room first, don’t forget to feel the mattress, they can be very hard, a light pad over a board. Also check the hot water, don’t take their word for it that there is hot water – not that it matters really, the weather was so hot most of the time a cool shower was welcome. Towels are rare, take your own travel towel, one of those light ones that dries quickly. Every room has a ceiling fan that you will welcome for the air movement and the speed with which your washed clothes dry. The included Wifi will nearly always be dodgy. Sometimes a hotel will include breakfast which will sometimes be really good and other times just a piece of white toast with jam.
Have a theme – this time my theme was finding stepwells. It didn’t dominate my trip or distract from anything else, but it was fun to track them down and they are so cool. Your theme might be bird watching or temple visiting or seeing concerts. No matter what, it gives you some detective work to do in each location and you never know what it all leads to. This is where the adventure lies.
Go with the toilet flow – I think that washing rather than wiping is cleaner and embraced it. Finding toilet paper in a hotel is rare, anywhere else it is almost unheard of. Get used to it, likely 6 billion people in the world do not use TP.
Say yes! – this has been an onging theme of the blog because it was my philosophy for the trip. Saying yes to things I would normally balk at led to some of the most incredible and unique experiences I had. Obviously you need to make a quick decision on whether it isn’t such a good idea, but I don’t think I had more than a couple of times I knocked back an offer. Do be aware of people hustling, almost everyone wants something in return for helping you. But if you are offered a meal or somewhere to stay take it. The guest is god in India, people are honoured to have you in their homes and treat you unbelievably well.
I was invited into a Hindu festival celebration. I said yes, it was fantastic.

That’s it. I have nothing more to say. I hope you have enjoyed my ramblings and maybe are inspired to have an adventure of your own. If you have been lurking and gotten this far without commenting, say “hi” in the comments.

Namaste

Not quite done…

Posted on November 2, 2015 by Steve

If you get confused about times in this post it is because I am going to compress 4 days into one and use the first person present for the whole thing. No, it doesn’t make sense to me either.

Kuala Lumpur…hmmm…it is…actually I am not sure the word to describe KL, maybe I will come up with it by the end of the post. The initial word that comes to mind is clean. This is definitely a soft landing for returning to Australia from India. Still in Asia but people mostly obey traffic laws, there are no cows, no rubbish, streets are well maintained, they use machines such as excavators instead of human labour and no visible poverty – at least in our part of town.

We have found a shoebox of a room in Chinatown at Suzie’s Guest House. Given that we are only sleeping in it, being small doesn’t matter too much, but there isn’t a lot of space for the bucket to catch the condensating water dripping from the AC. It also got a bit cramped when guy had to come and climb up to the switchboard and reset the electrical switch for the whole place after something I plugged in tripped it.

Post in Chinese Temple, Kuala Lumpur

But it was in an interesting part of town and only a 2 minute walk from the railway station when you knew the way or 15 minutes the first time you walked there. A few doors down from the hotel was a wonderful Chinese temple, very different to all the Hindu temples in India.

Loved these hanging coils of joss.

Packets of joss sticks

It was right opposite a Hindu temple just like all the Hindu temples in India. But this being marriage season it was inevitable that one time we walked past we would see love, if not actually present, at least appear to be being consecrated.

We had seen a few pre-marriage celebrations, but this was the first actual ceremony

One block over is Petaling Street which I think might be one of the main street markets in the city. This is the best place to come if you like shoes and watches and handbags and t-shirts multiplied by 50. By that I mean there were about 50 stalls selling fake designer bags. Another 50 selling fake brand watches. Another 50 selling t-shirts. All selling the same shit. It is crowded and all the stall holders hassle you to come into their stall which sells the same shit as 49 other stalls you have just passed. We couldn’t wait to get out of there.

Transformer! Motorcycle converts into street stall. Very clever these Asians

Are you ready for a different currency? Three Malaysian Ringitt (RM) to the Australian dollar. I actually found myself converting to Rupees a couple of times since I was so used to them.

The better shopping was behind the market stalls in the shops at the base of the buildings. If you are willing to be a tough haggler and really stick to your guns and go to walk away you will generally get something for about half the original price. Sometimes the prices are stupid, one place a crappy little wooden Buddha carvings that were worth about RM10 and he was asking RM70, I involuntarily laughed out loud and he immediately said “OK, 50” which means I likely could have gotten it for about 25. Another place something mediocre was on sale for RM40 and I offered RM20 but wasn’t getting very far. We eventually got to him saying adamantly “best price is RM25” so I walked out of the shop, he came running “OK 20” but it was too late. My attitude hardened with this lot, if they are treating us like a soft touch and trying to take advantage I am not that interested in giving them my money.

Next day we decided to head on a big walking loop through the Central Market (more shops selling more of the same shit and some even worse shit) where Sheila finally found her dream sarongs. But of course by this time there was a hitch with finances. I hadn’t thought far enough ahead to transfer funds to the debit card I could use to pull cash from ATMs, you know how your money goes into that banking black hole for a couple of days? So for a day we were watching our Ringits, exchanging some $US and wondering if it was worth cashing in our Rupees. Fortunately the next day the funds arrived and we could eat, more importantly, Sheila could shop.

The walk took us to the KL Bird Park which is touted as the world’s largest free flight aviary on one sign and SE Asia’s largest on another. Either way, it was big and as much as I hate birds in cages, this was a mighty big cage to the point of not really being one. Except where the birds were in small cages for some reason.

The peafowl must be happy, there is a lot of them and they seem to be breeding quite happily.

Spotted this snake stalking a gecko that was desperately trying to not be lunch.

Spotted this beautiful snake stalking a gecko that was desperately trying to not be lunch.

Koi feeding frenzy

KL also has a free bus that does a loop around the city so we jumped on and off that a few times, heading to the the famed Lo Yat Plaza, the huge technology building. It wasn’t long before I had a feeling of deja vu, as though I had been there before. This was because I realised I had actually been there before a few years ago and in fact nothing had changed apart from the iphone model number. Six floors of nothing but computers and phones and IT stuff. Unless you are after something specific and know the price this place is just too big and overwhelming and like the market, too many shops selling exactly the same shit at too high a price.

Lo Yat Plaza

From there we wound our way to the famous Petronas Towers via a network of confusing underground tunnels that lead to the ground floor of the towers and, you guessed it, more shops. But these were not just ordinary shops, they were extra ordinary and I don’t mean extraordinary. Pick a brand name and the shop will be there, we could have been in any shopping mall in any city in the world. We couldn’t wait to get out…again.

At least on the outside you can get a sense of the scale of the buildings that were apparently built as a beacon to lead people to the shops and a celebration of fossil fuels (Petronas is an oil company). They are big and impressive for sure and the walkway that bridges them gives a sense of strength to the buildings.

Petronas Towers KL

Opposite the towers

Heading back to the hotel we walk through a park and there is a big marquee set up. I suggest we go in and check it out, Sheila is reluctant but in we go where it is a bit cooler and a bit confusing what it is all about. As we are leaving a guy comes up to me and asks if I speak English. He explains that the event is a regional promotional expo for Terengannu and their stand is promoting English languages courses, could they interview me. Yes! of course and I give what I hope is a good talk about English being useful but to be sure to hang on to their native language and culture, that making a connection with the person is more important than having perfect language and I am generally very profound and insightful. Most unlike me and I realise it.

He asks for a final general endorsement of the programme, about which I actually know absolutely nothing. This is my monologue as best I can remember and abbreviated a bit, you’ll get the idea.

“Thank you for the opportunity of addressing you and endorsing your wonderful programme. As the Prime Minister of Australia I want to tell you how excited I am to see such programmes blossoming in our region. I fully endorse the programme and promise to send billions of dollars in Australian aid to support it. We will also send food, clothes and beer. It is been my honour attending your expo today, as the Prime Minister I thank you for the invitation.”

They laughed a lot and loved it. Whether or not it will be useful is debatable. As usual, honoured guests had to appear in a photo.

Prime Minister of Australia and Ms Prime Minister pose with the locals.

Speaking of saying Yes!, it can be tricky getting The Sheila to do something she thinks is a bit silly, but witha bit of coaxing… This was also at the expo, such fun.

They are trying to make this an iconic KL sculpture, we’ll help by including it in a blog that is read by a handful of people.

And then we were at the airport heading for home. A huge hat tip to Air Asia for what is the worst check-in experience I have had in my life. KL airport is huge and a bit confusing at the best of times. We find Air Asia and there are hundreds of people standing in lines at four areas, each area has maybe 5 check-in desks working. There is no indication of which area or which line you should be in, they all just say “Baggage Drop” so we get in one line that moves very slowly. It isn’t like we have chosen the wrong line, they are all moving very slowly.

Unfortunately the hands on the clock are moving quite quickly and about 20 minutes before the flight closes I estimate that we are still over 30 minutes from the front of the line. We lose our position to find a better line or somewhere to queue jump and completely fail. I ask an Air Asia guy what we should do, the flight closes in 10 minutes now. He says “get on the back of any line” and I again explain that the flight is closing and we will not make it. Again he says to just get on a line. I say “Mate, I don’t want to fight with you, but you are not helping me one bit, we will miss our flight”. Perhaps he thinks this is Australian for “I am going to biff you” because he then suggests just pushing to the front of one of the very long lines. Great!

But I see it as the solution, so I grab the one bag we are checking and brazenly walk past all the patient people in one of the lines, up to the desk and tell the bloke “if you don’t check this bag now we are going to miss the flight” and bugger me, he does. The people I push in front of are even helpful and pass the bag to the scales and we finally breathe a sigh of relief…well I do. I don’t freak out often but this had me worried, it is like Air Asia have never done this before…completely useless.

We are on the plane heading home. I offer some gastri-stop that we thankfully never had to use to the woman sitting in my row who needs it and then, just when you think nothing else serendipitous can happen, as I am filling out my immigration card,her husband sitting next to me points something out.

Imagine how confusing this would have been indentifying body parts

Imagine how confusing this would have been identifying body parts

And now we are home, I have finished this post and I haven’t come up with the word to describe KL.

Tomorrow I will do one more post, it might be a best of, it could be a warning, it might be encouragement. I’ll sleep on it.

When we left India, despite my encouraging her to get some henna design on her hand, Sheila regretted not doing it. In KL someone was doing some at (believe it or not) Backpackers Day. Thanks to Google photos for the auto awesome animation.

The final result looks even better a couple of days later

This is the final result, it looks even better a couple of days later.

Refusing to use ‘Pi’ in blog title

Posted on October 31, 2015 by Steve

We woke up to a miracle of well being on the day we planned to leave for Puducherry from Mahabalipuram. Perhaps it was because we have visited so many temples, maybe because I have patted so many cows, it could be modern medicine, who knows?

Sheila was feeling so back to normal, despite my suggestion we catch another taxi, she was happy to go by local bus.

The super deluxe coach from Mahabalipuram to Puducherry, this means it has decent seats.

The ultra deluxe coach from Mahabalipuram to Puducherry, this means it has decent seats.

Overnight train trips get you to your destination overnight, but you don’t get to see a lot. Daytime bus trips through rural India are another story. Salt harvesting, rice paddies, other unidentified crops, countless shrines and temples and on this trip, a real thrill to see wild flamingoes in a lake we passed.

Flamingo at Kuala Lumpur bird park for illustration purposes only

Lonely Planet had another win with the Park Guest House where every room has a balcony overlooking the Bay of Bengal. This place is run by the Sri Aurobindo ashram and the grounds are full of simple but beautiful pieces of art some of which are going to be replicated at home.

All over the place are posters of Sri Aurobindo and The Mother, a French woman who became his collaborator. There are lots of rules and even a curfew, but it was a great place to stay and see if Puducherry would scratch Sheila’s itch.

Of we set on foot in search of French influence. We didn’t get far before we fell victim to the ice cream shop just down the street at Alliance Francais. This was a good start.

The old map had lots of streets with French names. A newer map, and the streets themselves, had Indian names. The good start was tarnished a bit.

Before long Sheila was so well and in such rapture that she was salivating at all the Frenchiness ranging from buildings to food to faux gendarmes with non-faux firearms.

Puducherry police

There is a French embassy and to ice the cake of expectation, people actually speak French here. Sheila is in heaven and I have to conceded that I was wrong about Puducherry being as French as Nouméa I.e. not at all.

There was a rehearsal for a parade and the military guys were happy to pose, just look at the excitement on their faces

The cherry on top of the croissant was a wonderful meal in an almost French restaurant. My how the appetite has returned.

Delighted at our ‘French’ dinner, this makes me happy and life easier.

There was also a certain amount of wistfulness starting to creep in because our trip is ending . Puducherry is our last stop before heading back to Chennai for our flight to Malaysia. So we were lapping it up.

More Park Guest House art, broken terracotta pots.

More Park Guest House art, pieces from broken terracotta pots.

Of course there were Hindu temples, one particularly spectacular and another with what can only be described as an endearing performing elephant.

Hindu temple Puducherry

Temple ceiling

Place some money at the end of its trunk and it will touch you on the head to “bless” you. This is important enough to people to have them lining up and the elephant receiving enough coins to keep it supplied in croissants.

Elephant blessing

You can take the girl out of the Catholic Church but you can’t totally remove the church from the girl. So we visited some old churches and I scratched my head as Sheila, who had been a bit puzzled by the overt devotion of Hindus, crossed herself entering and leaving. Or maybe the scratching was from the elephant blessing.

Happy face electrical box bathing in rainbow

Happy face Catholic electrical box bathing in rainbow

Who knew that baby Jesus had male-pattern baldness, obviously inherited.

Continuing the series of military male models

I think you get the drift: there never was a Pondicherry zoo, but the French really were there and their influence remains. We had a lovely time and the truth is, there’s not a lot to write about, but plenty of pics of a relaxing couple of days.

Cutting firewood for the restaurant cooker, with an electric saw

We’re here to help…

Posted on October 22, 2015 by Steve

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

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.

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 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 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

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

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

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.

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

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 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

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

Posted on October 21, 2015 by Steve

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

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 India^TM thing.

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.

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 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.

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.

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

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

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.

Hello again

Posted on October 19, 2015 by Steve

Continue Reading →

Delicious Delhi

Posted on October 17, 2015 by Steve

The first four and a half weeks of my trip all had one purpose. To be in Delhi to meet The Sheila when she arrived from the US. We then get to spend a couple of weeks travelling together before heading home,

My timing had been perfect, I managed to arrive in Delhi on the 12th, determined that the hotel was of adequate standard for entry into India and re-entry into relationship, I even booked a car and driver to get to and from the airport. The incredibleness of Google technology* – did you know you can just type a flight number into search and it will give you the arrival time? – informed me that the plane was 30 minutes early and I arrived at the airport and was in position at the arrivals barrier just after the plane landed . *Conditions apply, as you will see^.

Why is it that India (and other places) try to make life so hard for people. Planes full of passengers are arriving and everyone needs to go through customs and immigration and then out to the world, usually with someone waiting to meet them. Instead of a single exit door where it is impossible to miss the arrivee, adding to the excitement of welcoming your loved one there is the tension of three exit doors and a desperate hope that you are standing at the right one. After watching for a few minutes I notice that 80% of people come out of one door so I find myself a spot and wait. And wait. And wait. After an hour of waiting I am not the slightest bit anxious (kidding), after 90 minutes I ask someone who comes out how long it takes to get through and he said about 30 minutes. I keep reminding myself “India time” but am going through scenarios of what to do next.

Of course, there is more than one happy ending that night and eventually, having had to deal with a malfunctioning fingerprint scanner, The Sheila emerged to something rare in India, a public display of affection. The ride home wasn’t too crazy (it was 2300hrs), the hotel was deemed perfect. Off to a great start.

Next day it was time to be tourists, in a different way for me a) I am not alone any more and b) where I am happy to rough it and be adventurous, The Sheila is likely to not be quite the same. I have a day planned, show her the baoli I have discovered and a temple I have heard about. I have used Google maps to work out the buses to catch, what can possibly go wrong^~? There is sufficient awe at architecture, fear at getting on and off buses that don’t quite come to a full stop and admonishment for walking along the road like the rest of the population, but fun is being had.

Off to the Gurdwara Rakab Ganj Sahib Sikh shrine (not quite the right word) I heard about from a couple of Americans the previous day. I have the bus stop name, we are approaching and the vagueness of whether the conductor and people meant “this stop” or “next stop” meant we miss the stop. Meh, not far to walk back. Serendipity time #1 for The Sheila.

We get off the bus and there is a line of people being handed a plate of food. I suggest we get some, “no it is for poor people” Sheila has already figured out. Some people notice our reluctance and invite us to have some food. A plate of curry and a couple of too hot to hold puris and we are ushered to the only two chairs (they kick a couple of guys off) and while I am kind of used to Honoured Guest status, Sheila gets initiated.

Honoured guest after less than 24hrs.

Best I could figure out was this was something to do with a current festival Navratri and the food was not for the poor, it was for everyone and it was really tasty. Again there is a request for a posing for photos, lots of laughter and we walk off shaking our heads in disbelief at our good fortune missing our bus stop.

HOT! puris, straight from oil to hand.

The yummy curry and a bloke who doesn’t mind being in a photo.

There are lots of temples and shrines in India. I mean LOTS. Just about every block will have a temple of some sort and there are smaller shrines all over the place. Approaching we can hear chanting and we take off our shoes a long way from the doors because no one else is wearing shoes. Up the stairs, I cover my head with provided ‘bandana’ and into a not huge space where the floor is covered by a soft carpet. No words are adequate and like most of these places, the photos don’t do justice. A steady stream of pilgrims come in and kneels before the shrine (you read the links above, right?) to do devotion. Meanwhile there is this small group of musicians alternating with a preacher every five minutes. We sat for quite a while, I found the place mesmerising, trying to work out the subtleties of the rituals (I didn’t), people watching and observing the protocols of the “guards”, bit they weren’t really guarding, it appeared more ceremonial.

Dammit, if someone can figure an easy way to upload videos I will add it here…grrr…

On the way out of the grounds there was quite a bit of coming and going from a hall. We asked what was going on, a wedding! If you ask to go in and look is it technically gate-crashing? We were invited to have our photo taken with the bride and groom and it seemed so bizarre we said no. I now regret breaking my “say yes” rule.

She looked soooo excited by what can only be described as an ordeal, a photo shoot with hundreds of people.

Again I am a few days behind and am considering declaring blog bankruptcy i.e. just skip a few days to catch up. But so much happens. I will instead use more photos than words.

Don’t know the story, they were outside the temple. Maybe associated with the wedding…to remain a mystery

^ We had spent the day hopping around on buses and crossed town, heading back a bus that Google maps and the sign at the bus stop said existed didn’t. Beware the mythical 536! We were a bit stuck, people tried to help us, a storm came through, we caught a bus in the wrong direction at a big intersection, got caught in Delhi rush hour traffic (why is it called rush hour when it is so slow?) and after taking 3 hours to complete a 45min trip we collapsed in our hotel.

Chandni Chowk spice market Delhi

While Sheila relaxed in a warm bath, I did a food run for Rs50 ($1) of street momos that was almost too much for us both to eat. Am I a good husband or what?

Not finished. More to write. 7℅ battery left. Publish!

6 score pachyderms

Posted on October 13, 2015 by Steve

Played the tourist again, hired an auto and did the major haunts. It is the best way to get around a big unfamiliar city where the sights are spread out. Welcome to Jaipur.

It was a nice slow auto ride, not part of the plan, but, when the throttle cable breaks, it is part of the adventure. Poor Yash had to hold the end of the cable with a rag until he could make temporary repairs, then later we stopped at the auto repair workshop…actually it was just a spot by the side of the road more than any sort of workshop, but it was fixed.

There is a weird gene in the Indian population where some people have grey/green eyes, it is a very attractive look…seriously. This guard was a photo favourite

First stop was Amber Fort. I hate to sound blasé, but it is your pretty standard Indian Fort meaning it is big, spectacular, beautiful and quite amazing. This one is also crowded, I am now in the golden tourist triangle – Delhi, Jaipur, Agra – and there were lots of groups of European tourists.

More amazing carved sandstone screens so that people could discreetly watch the goings on below.

But as usual there are surprises. In a corner of a crowded square is a sign explaining about underground water tanks. Nearby is a bored looking guard next to an iron gate. I go to peer through the bars on the gate and bored guard is suddenly as animated as the guards get (not very) and opens the gate for me. Down down down, all alone to the underground water tank, too dark for a photo.

I love this shot looking down onto the main path up from the top of the Fort.

Later I see a half hidden sign pointing to the secret tunnel. The tour guides lead the packs past a doorway, I venture in and alone again I head down down down to a tunnel that was an escape route from the castle if the hordes were attacking…or paparazzi are waiting at the front gate.

All this is great, but no one told me about the elephants. There are 120 of them carrying people in a steady procession up the mountain to the main courtyard past hordes of touts selling textiles, carvings, umbrellas and photos – maybe they should use the tunnel.

I can imagine the same scene in Australia. People would be wearing seatbelts and helmets, the elephants would walk behind a big fence, everything would be so safe. But this is India and you walk with the elephants, mahouts will shout at you if you get in the way.

You really walk with the elephants, close enough to touch them (if they aren’t moving). It was so awesome being so close to an elephant, but being surrounded by so many of them was indescribable.

All this and more during the day plus the fun of tracking down another baoli (stepwell). Not as big or spectacular as the one in Jodhpur, but still remarkable. I have found 3 to visit in Delhi.

Meena ka kund Baoli at Amber Fort Jaipur

Meena ka kund Baoli near the Amber Fort Jaipur

In Pushkar a couple from Argentina had told me about the Hotel Hathroi Palace in Jaipur. A couple of young guys took over the lease in mid 2015 and are turning it into what will be a cool and popular hangout. They already have a great chill space on the roof, are decorating and renovating and if you toss in great personalities it will rock in a year or so. This is an unashamed plug for the place that will hopefully increase their internet profile.

One of the residents around the Monkey Temple

I asked about a concert of some sort, I hadn’t seen any music yet. Yes, there is something on tomorrow night I am vaguely told. Yash to the rescue in his auto, we head off to somewhere, I have no idea where or what.

Turns out to be the very flash Hotel Diggi Palace, very flash indeed. Hmmm…. I am directed down a side street to the servants entrance and a sign announces that on a beautifully warm Jaipur night, the very flash back courtyard has been taken over by the Sufi Music Festival. I can’t believe my luck…again.

I got to see four vastly different performances. The first, with only about 10 other people was very devotional and everyone had to have their heads covered. The words to the “songs” were displayed using PowerPoint – good to see PP is just as bad everywhere in the world. The tabla player was incredible.

Crappy photo but I missed my opportunities, this guy was what I guessed is some sort of poet or performance artist. He certainly dresses well.

One great thing about the event that puzzled me was that all the announcements and banter by musicians was bilingual. First in Hindi, then in English. I was delighted, but being the only westerner there I wondered who the English was for.

The woman was the lead of this trio and had an extraordinary voice. The instrument, I have no idea of the name, rests on her shoulder as you see and is essentially a drone, it is strummed without any work on the neck at all.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DnSk_YnxIjQ

I didn’t want to mid another photo op, so I went down the front, in the VIP area, having earlier expressed my dismay at being turned back when I boldly tried to walk in at the beginning of the night. “But I am a VIP” I huffed and puffed to much laughter. This time I simply went to the other end of the fence where it was completely open. Down to the front, I sit on an empty VIP couch in row two, but is effectively the front row at this spot, a couple of photos, perfect. Great music, I make myself comfortable. I have the whole couch to myself, a bit further down some real VIPs including government ministers are being fawned over and photographed.

I am very comfortable now and regret leaving my bag and sandles back in the cheap seats. I consider going and getting them and making the move permanent, but have learned in the past that when you are scamming, it is good to not draw attention to yourself. Eventually a group of real VIPs join me on my couch, completely spoiling my premium experience by talking, using their phones, not clapping and just being on my couch. I think I may appear in a photo in a newspaper and have half of India speculating about who I am.

The headliner was great. An apparently well known young woman who performed contemporary rock Sufi music and the crowd went off…in an Indian way. I can’t speak for where you live, but had this been in Australia the audience would have been on their feet about half way through the set, dancing, clapping, singing. Not in India.

The video is early in her show, I got caught up in the event and as well as crowd watching forgot to shoot more video.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X1WglOOM5uo

Despite bursting with joy and excitement cheering and singing, people would jump up, dance for about 5 seconds then reluctantly sit down again. This was happening all over the audience. Despite all the fantastic energy, there weren’t even people dancing around the sides or back of the crowd. I was truly hoping she would invite everyone to get up so it would really go off. Unfortunately I didn’t think to video towards the end, so this will have to do.

Eventually as the final song built to the usual concert crescendo they couldn’t hold back and for the last 30 seconds the place erupted. At every other similar concert you and I have been to there are then screams and claps and whoops for an encore and of course the act obliges with their 3 pre planned encore songs.

But this is India, we just went home.

Footnote: never buy a tablet if you plan on producing content, they are for consumption. This post has been particularly painful to edit and has taken 2 days to (hopefully) get right.

Prayer by donation

Posted on October 11, 2015 by Steve

There is no railway station in Pushkar, getting there involves a 1 hour, Rs14 (30¢ – no kidding) bus trip from Ajmer. Being very mindful of dates, needing to meet Sheila in Delhi on the 13th, I decided I could spend the night in Ajmer and check out Ajmer Sharif Dargah, the shrine (Dargah) of sufi saint, Moinuddin Chishti.

Entrance to the Daragh

My trip seems to have unintentionally evolved into visiting the holiest places of most of the religions. But it is easy to do because they are spectacular and usually the major “attraction” in a city.

If not for the Dargah, I wouldn’t recommend Ajmer, crowded with pilgrims, way more beggars than I have seen anywhere, a bit grotty and because Hinduism doesn’t seem to dominate, not many veg restaurants.

The Dargah was 5 minute walk from my hotel, so it was really crazy in the streets, pilgrims heading to the shrine. At the entrance I balked, it was quite intimidating, there are jostling people, security – it wasn’t at all welcoming. But I was there so I approached a guard and asked if it was OK to go in. He indicated another bloke and I was put into the hands of the beautiful Ajmed.

Fabulous passionate volunteer guide

Ajmed speaks excellent English and showed me around the complex, including into the inner sanctum, where I would never have ventured by myself. We had a long discussion as we walked and he seems a bit jaded with some aspect of his job or the people or the place and is quite open about it – I suggested his views were quite provocative, he agreed.

It was the end of school time and he likes to be home for his daughters, so I was invited to join him for tea, another serendipitous moment. You know those movies where people head down a maze of narrow alleys in a foreign city? The walk to his house was like that, no way would I be able to find my way back unaided.

I forget the daughter’s names I only know they beat me easily playing ludo on a phone. Both gorgeous, good English speakers, getting an education and with a vision for their future. I had only known him for an hour, but Ajmed’s influence was obvious. Oh, also he is an artist and his house walls are covered in his work.

Next morning to Pushkar, famous for a camel fair that is not until the end of November unfortunately. This was the first tricky “find the bus” mission I have had. By asking numerous people I work out where the bus goes from…sort of. I ask the conductor (every bus has one) “Pushkar?” and he kind of signs to let me know to catch his bus to the bus station for the real bus.

The real bus* is essentially a local bus with no English destination board or anything luxurious like that. But it is the right bus and in another reenactment of a movie scene, we are speeding along a winding road through (admittedly not very high) mountains with cars overtaking on the wrong side of the road approaching blind corners.

* not actual bus, for illustration purposes only

Pushkar is a tourist trap, but in a nice sense. It is the Byron Bay of Rajasthan. The town surrounds another holy place, a lake believed to have formed at the beginning of the world. The lake is surrounded by ghats where there is a non stop stream of people praying and bathing. This is all facilitated by many donation boxes and booths. Reminder, while it is a tourist attraction for us westerners, for most people it is a serious pilgrimage.

At dusk prayer time this incredible machine was going.

I wonder if there are Indian musicians bemoaning the fact that they have been replaced by a machine.

Like Byron, there are loads of Western tourists in Pushkar, for some reason many from Israel, but last night on the hotel rooftop Australia, UK, Norway, Argentina, Germany and Israel were all represented.

It is worth mentioning that as I got off the bus there was the usual “Please, my hotel” mob and the offer of a free two wheeler ride to a place near the lake with WiFi and Rs400 ($9) rooms got me. Another great hotel, good food, close to everywhere.

Nearby is yet another holy place, a rare Brahmin temple where I had a whistle blown at me for taking a photo. Hey, I had seen someone else so assumed it was OK.

The temple is covered in inscriptions memorialising family members.

Now in Jaipur, into Delhi tomorrow. I keep hearing stories about how crowded Delhi is, but they all come from people who flew into there. Hopefully after having been here for 4 weeks it will just seem like India.

Some random photos to finish and (shock horror) be more or less up to date.

Jaipur hotel at night. Some young guys have taken it over 2 months ago. In a year, when they have finished renovating and decorating, this place is going to seriously rock.

Jaipur hotel at night. Some young guys took it over 2 months ago. In a year, when they have finished renovating and decorating, this place is going to seriously rock.

I’m sure this water is a legit Fosters product. Tastes better than the beer.

E tier sleeper on an Indian train. It is actually not that bad, but you would need to experience why.

3 tier sleeper on an Indian train. It is actually not that bad, but you would need to experience why.

There are always kids happy to pose for a photo. But to get fun shots like this you play first, then ask for a photo ;o)

Deep fort

Posted on October 9, 2015 by Steve

Despite my policy of saying Yes, there is a time I tend to say No. Getting off a train and being confronted by auto drivers and various other touts and hasslers. I brush past them saying No, acting like I know what I am doing and where I am going even though I usually have absolutely no idea.

Similarly in Jodhpur, Rajasthan. Out of the station and headed off in an arbitrary direction to find a hotel. I didn’t do very well and had walked for about half an hour when an auto driver approached me. Being away from the hustle of the station I asked if he knew a hotel and of course he did.

Rooftop next door to hotel, I think these were Papagena drying

Rooftop next door to hotel, I think these were Papadams drying

Perhaps it is owned by his uncle, who cares, if it is a decent place that is all that matters. We head off down the main road, turn down a smaller road, into a dusty laneway and into a smaller dustier laneway if that is possible. I am not optimistic that this will turn out well…but based on my past experiences you already have an idea of the outcome.

Clock Tower Jodhpur

He leads me into the Discovery Hotel, a hole in the wall, the foyer is nothing special. Raj the manager is a good doppelganger for my friend Giri, a big smile, friendly, welcoming. He leads me 3 floors up a narrow, steep flight of stairs, 2 days after my Palitana climb this is torture.

But it is well worth the pain. The quaintest, cutest, best maintained hotel I have seen and just outside my room, a stunning view of Jodhpur Fort, just Rs500 ($10). I say I will take it.

It was small, but it was beautifully decorated, and that view…

Raj is a smart bastard. In a classic “would you like fries with that?” manoeuvre he says “let me show you another room”, we go up a couple more painful steps, around a corner and the room is more or less the same until he throws open a window and there, looming over the hotel is the fort. For an extra Rs300 I am a sucker and upgrade before I have even signed in.

View from my window

To cap it, there is a roof top restaurant that has 360° views over the Blue City and all the major tourist points Jodhpur has to offer. Not that I have been doing it tough, but this is bliss.

There is something about Jodhpur that elevated it to Favourite City So Far status. The local bazaar is crazy busy, the city is relatively clean, the architecture visually compelling, incredible historical stuff. Bliss.

Tour guide whose services I declined, despite taking his photo (with permission of course)

My first tourist indulgence I hire an auto for a few hours at 1/3 the price quoted on the street the previous day. He takes me to Meheganar Palace,

The Maharajah’s palace, I wasn’t invited upstairs for tea

Maharajahs’ cremation place and tombs

Tombs of the Maharajahs

and of course the Meheganar Fort where as usual, foreign tourists pay 10x the entry fee of locals.

But it does included an audio guide, exactly the sort of thing I usually resist and in another surprise, it turns out to be pretty good. Some great background and pointing out features that the average punter would have missed e.g. at the approach to the huge iron main gate there is a right angle turn so that attacking elephants couldn’t get a good run at it, they wouldn’t have wanted to anyway, at elephant head height it was studded with very nasty looking spikes.

This is all carved sandstone in Meheganar Fort

On the way back to the hotel my attention was caught by an open space that I couldn’t see into because of a low wall. Open space is pretty unusual in india and I was a bit intrigued by whether it might be a baoli or stepwell. See this post for background. I still don’t understand what made me curious, some sort of intuition? There was nothing at all to indicate anything special. I kept track of the route the auto took and it was effectively one straight street and not far.

A 10 minute walk back, as I approached I noticed a couple of tourists and a guide leaving, now I was very curious. Up 2 or 3 steps and my breath was taken away by the first full on baoli I have seen.

Jodhpur baoli or stepwell

Read the article linked to in the last post for more about these incredible structures. This was just awesome and now I am more determined to hunt them down, I have heard of one in Jaipur, where I am heading tomorrow.

Tricky to photograph and capture properly

Off to Pushkar on a 0700 train meant being vigilant about getting enough sleep and waking early enough. I had just dozed off when there was some thumping music in the street below and a peek out the window showed a crowd forming.

I’m sure this happens at 10PM every night on every street

That’s enough for me, clothes on, grab camera and into the throng. I had no idea, but it wasn’t hard to work out that this rather wooden looking guy was getting married.

My bucks night was never this much fun.

The procession continued, I tried to get back to sleep.

And the post title? A hat tip to HHGTTG (no spoilers in comments!)