Category: places

Mt Cook

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If I was the New Zealand marketing person, my Kiwi Catch PhraseTM would be “It just keeps getting better”, because every time we are impressed by a view, sure enough, there is a better one around the next corner or the next day.

Mt Cook is incredible. As we drove the 3 hours from Queenstown, the first views looked great from a distance, but the closer we got, the cloudier it got.

It was awesome, but refer to the Kiwi Catch Phrase.

We did an afternoon walk along the Hooker Valley track which takes a lot of people to Hooker lake

where there is a view of Mt Cook and the end of the glacier.

We were lucky that our timing meant we were walking against the tide of people who had come by bus and were heading back somewhere. There was a lot of them.

If you are heading to New Zealand, it can be a little tricky finding reasonably priced accommodation in some places. We didn’t want to do a budget trip, but have found that Haka House hostels are fabulous.

There it is

They are really well set up with excellent kitchens, comfy beds, friendly staff and great fellow travellers.

It is the same reason I love cheaper hotels in India, you get to meet locals and people from all over. In the past I have been pressured into fallen for the “let’s have a night or two of luxury” and the hotel room feels like it could be anywhere in the world…not for me if I can help it.

Right now, at the other end of the table Erna is giving a water colour lesson to our German friend Christa, a Canadian (maybe soon to be an American) woman who makes awesome scrapbooks of her life and a Japanese man who was explaining calligraphy earlier. It just doesn’t happen at fancy hotels.

But…there is an air of disappointment in my life. My D7200 has some spots on the lens or the sensor or somewhere that I can’t seem to dislodge. Most photos they are hidden in the background, but when there is sky…well, look for yourself.

I am really happy with what I am learning about doing this, but as Lady Macbeth put it so well, “Out damned spot”.

All this preamble to get to the point that today we walked part of the way along the Sealy Tarns track but between her dodgy hips and my creaky knee we didn’t make it to the top of the 2,200 steps. Still it was a fantastic walk that included making the time lapse.

Back at the bottom we instead went to Kea Point lookout. It didn’t matter that we didn’t make it to the top because “It just keeps getting better”.

Sickindia

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The title of this post, as you may have guessed, is not a town, but a state of being. We have both had Delhi Belly, me not so bad, Tall Girl…bad. One can never tell if it is food or a bug or what, but she isn’t well and can’t even keep an antibiotic or anti-vomit tablet down. Of course there is always a silver lining, and I now have time to catch up with travel tales while she sleeps.

Our plan was always to get to Jaipur, but it wasn’t until after we had booked flights (don’t get me started on Air Asia…grrrr…) that we discovered we would be in India for Holi, which according to wikipedia is

…known as the Festival of Colours, Festival of Spring, and Festival of Love. One of the most popular and significant festivals in Hinduism. It celebrates the eternal and divine love of the god Radha and Krishna.

and Jaipur would be a great place to be. So we had to make a bit of haste across country to be here in time for March 6th and as usual, it was worth it.

First mission was to head out with Balu (Ajeet’s brother and partner in Chillout Hotel, Jaipur) to buy some coloured powder. You may have seen bags of this stuff at colour runs and things like that, but being in a shop that has bales of 10Kg bags is something else. We only bought 10kg each of 5 colours. I rode shotgun in a tuk-tuk hired just for the delivery back to the hotel.

In the evening of the full moon the festival gets under way. We had seen piles of wood stacked like bonfires all over the place and you’ll never guess what they were…yes, bonfires.

In parks, in village squares or just in the street.

The men (of course) put some wheat or other grain on the end of a long pole, then into the fire while the women pour some water on the ground. Some ashes are then collected (by the men, of course) and are taken home to be used to mark the forehead during Puja. There were fires like that every hundred metres or so along every road.

Later that evening we went with Ajeet to the family farm at Barala, about 2 hours drive from Jaipur. We arrived late, everyone was asleep, but beds were prepared and we woke to rural India

They grow mainly wheat with some mustard seed and green leafies such as coriander. It wasn’t long before we were out in the fields picking for the hotel restaurant

and doing women’s work…

I knew the family from previous visits so there wasn’t any of the usual shyness which was wonderful. Needless to say, Tall Girl was right at home, finally getting some henna art on her hand.

We hadn’t even left the village before we looked like this

This doesn’t all happen in a context of “I’m going to ‘get’ you” and to be avoided. Quite the opposite. People walk up to each other with a handful of colour and smear it on their faces and wish Happy Holi. It is joyous and fun and everyone is into it * ^

* this is a Hindu festival, so not everyone

^ in the case of older people, you would colour their feet if requested

Back to Chillout where the fun was certainly under way

REMINDER TO PUT A GREAT PHOTO OF ERNA AND BALU HERE WHEN I CAN FIND IT

Of course, eventually it gets out of hand…and then the fun really begins

I am not sure if our clothes will ever be back to the original colours.

Ajeet has another project in mind so we head off with him to Mandwara, Rajasthan to have a look at a haveli, an old huge family home. One of many in Mandwara

Arriving at night it was astounding. In the daylight it was still incredible, but the problems became more obvious i.e. the amount of money needed to get it up to deluxe level and keep it there would be enormous.

And in other havelis…a deluxe room

a super deluxe room…as usual, in a photo you just don’t get how spectacular this was.

On the way back Ajeet had a surprise for me…another stepwell. Not very big or deep, but they are restoring it which is fantastic. Finally the Indian government is recognising the importance of these and declaring them heritage sites.

Hmmm…around the back…I wonder what that group of people is doing there, let’s go and have a look. Tall Girl was a little reluctant and thought they were waving us away. Hah! I know better…I love the outcome and her willingness to say “yes”.

Enough for now… stand by for the fully sick Bollywood movie adventure.

Can’t complain about Indian railways

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Day 4 of our isolated un-trip to India and things are going much more smoothly than I could have imagined.

Indian Railway system is possibly the only lasting benefit left by the British during their occupation of the place. The network is extensive, trains are frequent and mostly run on time.* Also, at least outside of cattle class, they are quite clean and sleeper beds include linen. Did I mention fares are also pretty cheap?

So our trip from Amritsar to Haridwar (near Rishikesh) would have been fun and a new experience for Petronella, had we taken it. But I think even had our flight not been cancelled, all Indian trains have been.

Right now we would have been on the banks of the upper Ganges River, wondering why it seems compulsory for Western women to wear yoga pants 24/7 in this city. Well, I would have been, she would like have been wearing yoga pants.

Ganges River at Rishikesh

Tonight we won’t be travelling by train to Khajuraho, site of the Karma Sutra Temple. In a day or 3 I’ll share some rather racy photos and update you on the incredible things we don’t do.

* this is based on experience, not any collection of data across the whole network. For all I know hardly any of the trains run on time – and it wouldn’t be surprising – but apart from 1 that was cancelled, 1 that was 5 hours late, 1 that was estimated 12 hours late and a few other delays…OK, so they sometimes are on time.

Last stop, Delhi

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Date: 5th November 2017

Location: Delhi

Hotel: Godwin

One more day in Delhi before we fly home.  We are in a pretty nice hotel right on the street where I originally suggested.  It is 10 minutes walk to New Delhi railway station in the middle of the hotel district and not far from a big market area.  The hotel we were at first night was a long way from anywhere, so this one is much better.  The Godwin hotel has a cool spiral central staircase.

Hotels are not for much more than sleeping in, apart from a refreshing beer on the rooftop – even though it was a Kingfisher – watching India Vs NZ on the big screen on the roof of the sister hotel over the laneway.  So we could pretend to be Kiwis and see if we could stir them up a bit, we had really wanted to find a bar full of Indians watching the cricket,  but there doesn’t seem to be such a thing, no matter which city we were in.  The closest we came were little knots of men standing outside hotels watching the cricket on a screen in the hotel foyer, we couldn’t manage to get a rise out of them, they seemed puzzled, maybe that anyone would publicly admit to supporting New Zealand.

Connaught Circle is supposedly the place to go in Delhi, but on a Sunday morning there isn’t a lot happening at all.  For some odd reason, the only street workers were people doing shoe polishing.  There were loads of them and eventually Tiff gave into the constant exhortations to have his sandals cleaned.

In the middle of it a cop wandered over and started speaking quite sternly to the boy.  It seemed that he wasn’t supposed to be working the area (the boy, not the cop).  We tried to explain that Tiff’s sandal had broken (it hadn’t really) and the boy was doing us a favour by fixing it.  He had actually sewn up something Tiff wasn’t even aware of, so it was a half truthful defence of the kid.  Someone explained that the cop was bored and throwing his weight around.  Have a close look at the home-made box, it was meticulous, even the way he stored his tools of trade.

Lonely Planet recommended a government run craft emporium, described as a rabbit warren of delights.  I have never been a fan of these places, but this one was different. a) it was a rabbit warren of delights and b) the staff were on a no commission salary so they didn’t hassle you to buy at all. at.all!  This is unheard of and a most pleasant way to shop.  The staff were bored and happy to engage.  While trying to find out where we could see a Bollywood movie we ended up in the store cash office (which had an open door) chatting and laughing with staff who had piles of money on desks.

Unfortunately my small backpack was full or I would have bought a complete household ensemble that would have certainly had heads turning at our next party.  As you arrive for the event you would find The Sheila and me sitting on our comfortable swing.

Inside, your eyes will immediately be drawn to the inviting lounge suite that will put you completely at ease.

Apart from Dawne and Tiff, the table looks a little bare at the moment, but as you can imagine, with the right decorations it will be transformed into a conversation piece.

This time of the year, it is so easy to over do it at a party and we like to be responsible hosts, so feel free to spend the night in the guest’s room, you may not get a lot of sleep as the bed set is sure to get your senses racing – and look at all those anchor points on the bed head.

This stuff was way over the top, but the shop was huge and actually had some interesting stuff, though it was mostly very overpriced.  How about this:

a 4′ x 6′ carpet was 101,229R, a steal at a little over $AUD2,000, last year I bought 6 carpets including one 10′ x 15′ for not much more.

Then it was off for lunch at Saravana Bhavan which is quite bizarre in a good way.  Imagine the McDonalds retail model applied to an Indian restaurant in India.  Brightish lights, clean tables, lots of them, loads and loads of uniformed staff who take your order on a touch pad.  The place is crowded and there is lots of activity.  The food is mainly dhosa and was wonderful.

The triangle shape is just because mine had been folded to keep the contents encased, it was as big as Tiff’s.  But the dosa pastry is itself is like a crepe and not very substantial.  It is the filling and sauces that makes it.  As if to prove that they are just like a western formulaic restaurant, I wanted to try to make one and it was the first kitchen to not let us come in and play.

A final meal, I really wanted it to be in a typical Indian restaurant and there it was, right opposite the hotel.  The food was great and forgetting our formula of number of dishes = (number of people – 1) meant we had a bigger variety and too much of it.

There is always time for a couple more Kingfisher beers (or were they G&Ts?) in the hotel rooftop restaurant before heading to the airport.  Had they been Hayward 5000 beers we might have had a more altitude adjusted outcome, but it was a nice way to end the day and our trip to India.

Thanks Godwin Hotel for letting us leave our bags for the day and then giving us a room to shower in before we went to the airport on the shiny metro for only 60R each to catch our 2200hrs flight.

There was one last delightful surprise.  Airports are pretty bleak places as a rule.  Yes, the architecture has improved, but they have hard seats and too much duty free stinky perfumes.  We were sitting in one of the too hard seats when Dawne came quickly towards us, “You’ve got to come and see this” and took us to an upmarket shop.

Forgive that the video starts with my camera sideways, it is a bit of a weird angle that I correct.  I was going to edit it to trim the sideways section, but I think it is worth keeping all the content, besides it is kind of an interesting angle.

I don’t recall the name of the instrument, it started with M, it is has 22 strings and is obviously related to the sitar.  The top 4 strings are plucked, the rest vibrate as a drone.   I could have sat and watched these guys for hours…but our flight called :o(

One more day left, in Kuala Lumpur…

Oh crap, I left out the movie…I knew we did something that afternoon.  Will tell about that experience in the next post.

 

Taj Mahal, so many rights, so many wrongs

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Date: 4th November 2017

Location: Agra

Hotel: Sai Palace

The Taj Mahal is located in Agra which is mostly a bit of a shithole and if not for a couple of things, wouldn’t be worth visiting…well, that might not be entirely true, but I haven’t found anything else yet *.  For that reason after planning to go to the Taj Mahal, then deciding not to go because it is a bit out of the way, then changing our minds because an alternative was even harder, we went to Agra.  The idea was always to take a train from Ajmer (Pushkar) to Agra, arrive in the evening, do the Taj in the morning, head to Sheroes for a while and then leave for Delhi that day.

In fact, that is how it turned out, but as you are about to discover, there is so much fun to be had within the plan.

Once again we had booked general seating on the train.  This means you have a reserved seat, but it is a step above cattle class which doesn’t have reservations.  We were the only westerners in our carriage of about 100 people and apart from a Japanese guy we pointed to his carriage, might have been the only westerners on the train.

As usual, it wasn’t long before we made friends with people around us and decided they needed a taste of western music.  It wasn’t the first time we had done this, so we had a bit of a routine where the bluetooth speaker was fired up, a phone connected, a song played and a sing along commenced.  Generally we started with Country Road by John Denver because we all knew the words, it is middle of the road and it is John Denver.

Indians have never heard this song, or most popular western songs.  The do know Justin Beiber very well and a bunch of doof doof dance music, but the classic pop songs seem to have never hit the subcontinent.  They have now…

This is a bad and great photo at the same time.  Everything is wrong with it, but I think it gives the feeling of everyone wanting to be in the photo and the crowded conditions and the fun being had.  People crowded the carriage as we sang a bunch of songs and then had a guy hook his phone up to play some popular Indian music to see if we could get them to sing along.  Another complete failure.

A few people were quietly mouthing the words but there was no rousing chorus from the punters despite us trying to make it happen.  This is not at all unusual, there appears to be a cultural taboo about publicly expressing emotion whether it be fun, love, excitement or whatever.  I’ve mentioned the built up energy at music concerts where everyone is sitting on their bums, dying to dance, but just can’t do it.  Same sort of thing, they kind of wanted to, but just couldn’t take the leap.

We danced, I did stupid (and real) magic, we sang, they loved watching and laughing and being part of what is likely an unforgettable train journey. It was so much fun that we didn’t even think to take photos.  But many, many people were videoing the whole thing so we may end up on YouTube some day.

Agra was awful.  The pollution was horrific.  Have a read of this article about the pollution in Delhi at the same time, in fact, Delhi didn’t seem as bad as Agra, though it may have been.

This is actually how it looked on the day as the sun rose.  So much for the beautiful Taj Mahal glowing in the sunshine.

Compare it to 2015 and 2016

2015

 

2016

It was disappointing, but at least I had seen it previously, for Dawne and Tiff it was their first visit.  But it is best we go back an hour or so.

As you can see there are big crowds at the Taj Mahal, the photo would have been taken at about 0800hrs at the latest and there were already heaps of people.  We had decided, on the advice of our hotel manager, to leave at 0545hrs, we had already planned to be there for sunrise.  This wasn’t a bad plan, not withstanding that we hadn’t arrived at the hotel until 2330hrs the previous night.

It was dark lining up for tickets, there was no lighting in the area despite a couple of hundred people standing in line.  I tried to jump the line by getting to the front of an Indian only line and pleading ignorance, that didn’t work.  Dawne was in the women’s line.  Tiff was in the men’s line.  I was the runner deciding which line was moving faster and it was the women by a long shot, so Dawne bought 3 tickets – Jane didn’t join us.  Step one complete.

It is hard to take photos that are a bit different from the standard Taj Mahal money shot.

The next stage is to stand in line outside the gate.  It is starting to get light and on the left side of the entrance there are many hundreds of people waiting.  We take a guess at an hour to get in…not good enough.  On the right side of the entrance is a woman sitting in a wheel chair…and no one else.

“Do we want to get in quickly?” I asked and after quick agreement developed a pretty awful limp as we made our way to the right.  We are ushered to a spot with wheelchair woman and pretty quickly another wheelchair appears and I am pushed into it.  What we didn’t realise at the time was that the wheelchair was privately owned by Viru, this had implications we weren’t aware of.  Sitting glumly (on the outside) I would adjust my position and whince in a way that I hoped was convincing.  Someone tried to get Tiff and Dawne to leave me and join the line up and of course they objected saying I obviously needed care.  I had a minor panic attack telling the cop that I obviously needed care.  He let my obvious carers stay.

There were others on the right hand side. The poor woman in the wheelchair was on an expensive tour and had fallen over the previous day.  The tour guide had pushed her to this spot and then gone off to deal with tickets without telling her anything.  She was quite stressed having been there about half an hour and had no idea what was going on.  Although we were scamming, we did do some good by reassuring her that it was all OK and calming her a bit ^.

There was also a blind woman who was told that she didn’t need a ticket (that they had already bought) and they were tossing up how to go and get a refund but not succumb to the chaos that is India.  Not sure how that turned out, but later we did see the blind woman taking a photo…could she have…was she really…it shall remain a mystery.

The gates open and we are in…first!

While Tiff and Dawne went to the toilet, I tried to explain to Viru that we would pay him his 500R and he could wait in this corner and have a sleep, we would be back later.  My leg was much better already.  He wouldn’t hear of it.  This job was given to him by god and he was going to do it.  So I resigned myself to a seated tour of the Taj Mahal, getting up now and then because “my leg improves as the day goes on”.

Truth be told, I got an appreciation for how shitty it is for someone in a wheelchair if the pusher is not attentive to context.  I was left facing the wrong way and felt excluded many times.  I missed out on quite a few things that happened behind me or that others talked about that I couldn’t see.  Though an hilarious adventure, it definitely changed my attitude to how wheelchairs should be handled.  Towards the end Viru insisted on a photo of Tiff and Dawne in some position that was behind me.  I was  left stranded.  A kind German woman asked me if I would like a push and I stood up and told her the story.  She laughed and wished she had thought of it.

Of course, the agreed fee wasn’t enough for Viru, he wanted a tip on top of his already expensive fee.  I kind of ran away…which might have had him wondering.

Disability is put into perspective when you visit Sheroes Hangout Cafe in Agra.  This is a project to create a safe space and a business for women who are the victims of acid attacks.

It is a lovely place that has expanded in Agra and also opened in Lucknow.  It made an impression on me the last times I was here and I think that Jane, Dawne and Tiff had the same experience.  Unfortunately they didn’t have any calendars left this year.

The artwork is quite haunting, not sure I would want one on my wall.

One more day before we fly home.  Off to Delhi by bus.

* This disclaimer included to appease anyone who objected to my not be worth visiting statement.

^ You can justify anything

Published in Pushkar…you won’t believe what happens next

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Date: 30th October – 4th November 2017

Locatuon: Pushkar

Hotel: Paramount Palace

Lordy lordy, where do I start and end with Pushkar and the 2017 fair?

Getting there by train was part of the fun.  We shared seats with a Sikh family on their way to a wedding in Ajmer, the jump off point for Pushkar.  They have a hotel and shop and bloke didn’t mind flaunting their wealth with a Bvlgari watch that would drag you to the bottom of a stepwell.  Bloke was only 22 but looked mid 30s and spoke enough English that we learned a lot about Sikhs, weddings and other things.

A walk the length of the train was an adventure within an adventure.

Most people were friendly and likely wondering why western tourists would be walking up and down the train.

This woman seemed to be the class clown. She insisted on doing some henna on my hand and could hardly see, so the result was as you might expect.

She was hamming it up in photos, that’s her on the right, I think the other women were strangers.  Not sure about the placement of her right hand :o)

The arrival at Ajmer Junction was an insanely crush.  People coming down the overbridge stairs and people coming up the stairs.  It likely wouldn’t have been a problem but for the people sitting on the stairs.  We all became quite separated.  We all got off the train at the same time, yet somehow I was already at the top and could see Tiff and Dawne struggling to get started at the bottom.

Then there is a lineup of tuk tuk drivers waiting at the other end of the overbridge.  We were about to settle on a 500R tuk tuk for the trip to Pushkar when Tony stepped in with 400R in a taxi, sharing with another couple.  Of course this caused a bit of a Hindi shouting match, but we let the drivers all sort it out.

Ahhh…Pushkar Fair!  It is a mix of gaudy lights, deeply spiritual pilgrimage, rides with really loud music, loads of temples, crazy competitions, people bathing and doing Puja in the lake, religious music and chanting through the night, hawkers and beggars…and of course, camels.  Lots of camels.

 

 

There are two part to the Pushkar Fair.  The first half is the livestock trading where camels, horses and water buffalo change hands.  There seems to be much at stake with animals groomed and prettied up in an attempt to get a good price.

There is also a holy festival happening as part of the Hindu holy month of Kartik.  Thousands and thousands of people make a pilgrimage to bathe in the lake.  The crowds build then drop for a couple of days then build to a peak for the last couple of days.

While walking to the Mela field (the fair stadium) our way was blocked by a bit of a crush.  Rather than fight it we went into a hotel an up to the restaurant to watch.  There was already heavy traffic in both directions and a bunch of people were trying to get into a temple causing a blockage.  30 minutes of entertainment for watchers from rooftops and of discomfort for those caught in the crush.

Crowd watching is awesome.  If eating or drinking we would always park ourselves with a good street view to watch the seemingly endless crowd pass.  Immediately obvious to even a casual observer is the number of women in the streets, most often in groups ranging from 4 or 5 to 20+.  I never managed to work out where they were coming from or going to, but the stream goes on and on.

Many people seem to be from rural India and quite poor.  We westerners are a constant source of fascination for them.  The reactions include delight, curiosity, fear, uncertainty and more.  It is so easy to engage by smiling, waving and saying hello.  Inevitably they would smile back, want to be in a selfie, want to talk…or try to.

This is a very typical scene that happens over and over throughout the day.  It is so much fun.

These women came up to Jasmine and, while it is hard to know exactly what they were feeling, they seemed amazed by her.  They were touching her hair and fawning over her while saying Ram Ram Sa over and over.  In Rajasthan Ram Ram Sa is an alternative to Namaste to say to someone as a hello or goodbye.

A walk around the lake on the ghats is everything you come to India for.  I am running out of time, here are some shots that don’t even nearly tell the story.

Drying his dhoti

 

Sadhu smoking a chillum. There was a lot of that.

 

One of the naked Sadhus was interested in my magnetic glasses :o)

 

I think this is my favourite photo. So many stories in one image.

The girl on the left had the unusual green eyes.  Gorgeous.

 

 

The photo Jasmine took of Baba holding marigolds is great. May add that later when I get a copy.

I am running out of time…again…and to do the next part of Pushkar justice I need time.  But here is a teaser…

Hilarious turban tying competition, Jasmine and Cameron in a bride and groom competition.

Rejected in Jodhpur

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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.

Choking in Udaipur

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Dates: 23 – 25 October 2017

Location: Udaipur

Hotel: Dream Heaven

Arriving in Udaipur for a few days means the pace has slowed considerably and it also gives me a chance to almost catch up with posts.

The tuk tuk drivers and shop keepers are much more pushy here.  It is quite a tourist town, including (especially?) for Indians from interstate here for Diwali.

Before I get into the details, my future self is sitting in the roof top restaurant in Jodhpur.  It is 6PM and 4 or 5 mosques are broadcasting the call to prayer, the Hindu temple has some bells ringing and with the general background noise it is quite a cacophony right now.

Back in Udaipur, speaking of roof top restaurants, the view from the roof of Dream Heaven Hotel is spectacular.

This image is for illustration purposes only and may have been taken in 2016

One of my favourite quirky shops is in Udaipur, the University of Arts, which is full of hundreds and hundreds of marionettes.  The owner is always delighted to show them off and do a performance.

Here he is in action with his puppet The Magician

On a previous visit, Dawne and Jane had done a cooking course with a woman named Meenu.  They wanted to catch up with her so we went to Meenu’s restaurant which is a single table in the home of her parents.  They sleep on a mezzanine floor above, and beside the table is a sink that has as decoration, the family toothbrushes.

You don’t believe me do you.  Take a peek at the eating area, the computer room and also meet the family.

The food was pretty good and Meenu is yet another strong, intelligent, determined Indian woman, doing her thing independently.

Jump to next morning and we went  for a walk to find Meenu’s house.  A social visit with chai and snacks turned into a yummy meal when we were joined by some other Meenu fans.  Meenu loves cooking.

Wandering off we passed a spice merchant.  Best I could tell was he ground his own spices and when we inquired about a large sack of dried chillies he was very willing to dump them on the floor.

Generally something like this doesn’t bother me.  I have been in a factory grinding chillies to powder without a worry.  But this batch set me off.  My eyes were watering, I was coughing and sneezing, breathing was getting harder and I was dry retching.  I recovered pretty quickly when I went outside and thinking I was now immune, I went back in.  Nope, it all started again.  That was enough for me which was too bad because I would have loved to watch him work.

I do that a lot, stop and watch people work.  Bangle makers, clothes dyers, scissor sharpeners, food preparers, builders, whatever I happen to spot.  The simple way that jobs get done is endlessly fascinating and I am sure they are wondering why I am watching.  Imagine if you were working your mundane job and a tourist spent 10 minutes watching you.

We walked past a school and were spotted by these girls who started chanting one photo, one photo, one photo… Since I am travelling with 3 teachers, it wasn’t long before we were inside the school and mobbed by the kids.

It was recess or lunch break and pretty soon the bell rang and the kids went to class.  I had been hanging with some older boys and went to their room, standing in front like I was the teacher, trying to get them to sit.  They were too excited.  Pretty soon the real teacher came in and she wasn’t happy, threatening the kids with a ruler while behind her back I was imitating her, stopping when she turned around.

Of course something like this never turns out well and then the principal came in and I ended up in his office in a chair facing him.  First time visit to Principal’s office in a long time. He didn’t speak English so there was an awkward silence and I would hold eye contact with him.  Eventually I asked/signed whether my friends had left and he indicated they had.

I should know better about asking for information or directions in India. They had actually been in another class, I thought they were gone, they though I was still with the boys.   We didn’t find each other again until dinner time.

Tonight dinner was going to be a little different.   A cooking class with Shashi, we were instructed to come hungry, which was actually bad advice.  Better would have been come ravenous because there will be way too much food.

Where Meenu’s setup was pretty organic and in the kitchen of her house, Shashi, her son and daughter-in-law had a slick setup designed for western tourists.  We were in a big clean kitchen that had been purpose built and was fitted with loads of chairs, utensils etc. including aprons.

She started by telling the story of being in the Brahmin caste and when her husband died a fair while ago, she had to sit alone, in a corner, for 45 days.  My understanding is that the life of an Indian widow is not too good.  I think they are prevented from remarrying so they often end up very poor.

But this trip has been about strong women persevering and succeeding, Shashi is one of those women and I suspect is now doing very well.

Tiff and Dawne with Shashi

Shashi ran most of the class with her son helping occasionally.  Without checking the complete menu from the error filled handout (that we corrected for them) we cooked chai, paneer butter masala – including the ‘magic sauce’ which is the basis of Indian cooking and transformed mine after my  last trip.  We also made pakoras, malai kofta and 4 different breads: rotis, naan, paratha and stuffed paratha.

There were other people in the group and I sort of pity them.  A French Canadian couple and a French man who seemed to speak no English plus his son.  The 4 of us are loud and playful and get over involved in everything, we may have dominated the class.  We laughed a lot and Shashi was quite playful back.  But poor French man looked like he wasn’t having fun and the others, while getting involved if prompted, didn’t throw themselves into it like we did.

Daughter-in-law was friendly and engaging and gorgeous but didn’t do any cooking.  Married women traditionally live with the son’s family, so you can guess their status. In this photo, she was doing some food prep sitting cross legged on top of the bench.  I can imagine this going down well in Australian restaurants.

We rolled out of there stuffed to the gills and looking forward to our next Indian party.

Next post will be from Jodhpur, half way through our trip.  It feels like months be has been less than 2 weeks.

Final post of the tour, but not of the tour

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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

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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