Another 300km brings us to Jaipur, the
sprawling capital city of Rajasthan with more than 3 million people most of
whom seem to be on the streets as we arrive.
We’re staying in a lovely homestay - not
over-looking or even in a fort or palace but comfortable and friendly, and away
from the bustle of the City. Jaipur is a
shock to our system after our previous stops in Rajasthan – it’s big and crazy,
dusty and loud with traffic that leaves us speechless.
The Amber Fort is the main attraction here
and many tourists see no more of Rajasthan than a whistle-stop tour as part of
the ‘Golden Triangle’ of Delhi, Jaipur and Agra.
The fort is reached via a steep climb and
most tourists fork out £10 to travel up on an elephant – we choose not to and drive
up by the back route and enter through the Chand Pol, the Moon Gate.
The majority of travellers are Indians and,
as with all other places we’ve seen, the women wear brightly coloured Saris and the men wear
anything they like in a range of casual styles.
However, the prize for ‘Wearing
this gear for a bet’ has to go to a
westerner – who scoops the award for fashion disaster.
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Nice shoes too! |
The hawkers are on us like flies and are
amongst the pushiest we’ve encountered. With no regard for personal space, they
thrust postcards, umbrellas and turbans under our noses and our subtle hints
that we are not minded to purchase their assortment of tat are lost on
them. A more forceful approach only buys
a short respite before they regroup and come again.
From the Amber fort we can see the city
walls clinging to the surrounding mountain tops and meandering away into the
distance, whilst above us the Jaigarh Fort stands an imposing guard.
The fort is well maintained and picturesque
but it’s busy and maybe we’ve reached fort overload as neither of us are wowed by
our surroundings. We stroll around
fighting with our audio tour which requires immense pressure on the buttons to
select the relative commentary and spend a couple of hours strolling around and
admiring the views but taking nothing in of the history of the fort.
On our way to the City Palace we stop
briefly to admire Jal Mahal, the red sandstone Lake Palace which, not
surprisingly is in the middle of Man Sagar a large man-made lake. Apparently the Lake Palace is in a poor state
of repair and it isn’t accessible to the public.
Jantar Mantar provides an interesting
diversion. A seemingly bizarre set of
modernistic sculptures, it is an observatory, and the sculptures are used to
calculate the time of day and the movement of the stars and the planets.
We have no real idea how this is done and the
signs explaining their use are no more enlightening so we nod sagely and move
on.
Jaipur’s City Palace is our last stop and it
is heaving with people. We make our way
around and its elaborate and ornate. John loved the armoury which houses all
manner of weapons from fearsome looking swords and daggers to huge guns carried
by camel, all proudly displayed. I just ‘people
watch’ and note that signs saying ‘no photographs allowed’ and ‘no tipping the
guards’ (who act as impromptu, uninvited and unintelligent guides), are merely
a guideline and largely ignored.
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A pair of big jugs |
Tired and thirsty, we head to the Palace’s
café. We wait and wait but the waiters
pointedly ignore us whilst serving the incoming Indians with speed. Our subtle attempts to draw the attention of
any waiter are useless and eventually we get up and leave wishing perhaps that
the waiters would have paid us as much attention as the hawkers.
Travelling back to our homestay, the old
‘Pink City’ is fascinating. The traffic
clogs the roads, dirty town buses already crammed to capacity stop to disgorge
passengers whilst crowds more try to clamber aboard.
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Plenty of room on top |
Cows and goats share the
roads with rickshaws and camels and the street sellers do a brisk trade. By local standards it’s a bit chilly so we
see goats with coats, and more surprisingly a goat with a plaster-cast on its
leg.
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Goat with cast is in the middle |
On one roundabout a number of families are
living in tents made from all manner of salvaged materials, cooking over small
fires with soot blackened pans and accompanied by their mainly bare children
and a cow. Opposite, there are gold
merchants and retailers of precious stones and gems. The rich and poor rub shoulders easily here
but seem largely oblivious to each others presence.
After another tense visit to the armed ATM
we head back and enjoy a home cooked meal with Nora and Marcelo from
Switzerland. They’re on the Golden
Triangle but have travelled in Australia and South America and we enjoy
swapping tales of our respective travels.
We’re astonished that they have never seen nor tried pappadams – there
must be a marketing opportunity for an enterprising Indian living in
Switzerland.
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Nora and Marcelo - who paid our beer tab - thanks guys |
With renewed gusto we set off the following
day to visit some of the less popular sights and are rewarded with quiet,
hawker free attractions. Jaigarh Fort overlooks and was used to house the army
which protected the Amber Fort below.
John is almost frog-marched through the
display of weapons in the armoury by an overly enthusiastic but completely
knowledgeless attendant who latches on to him and rattles off facts that can be
read off the displays and occasional questions that are accompanied with ‘yes,
yes, very good sir, yes yes –come come’ – it’s hard not to laugh and he seems
satisfied with the 10 rupee tip paid for comic value only.
The views are superb
but we are surprised
at the hive of activity inside the fort. Hundreds of Indians are painting
chairs, erecting stages and lighting, painting, sewing and generally running
about.
We sneek a peek at a thick, spiral bound
project plan and discover that we are witnessing the preparations for a lavish
wedding which will take place tomorrow when this massive fort is to be
transformed into an fairytale palace. 2,500 invited guests are to attend and we
let the workers get on – there’s a huge amount to do in a short space of time
but in India, all things are possible.
If I were a guest I think that I’d check that the paint was dry before
sitting down!
The Nahargarh or Tiger Fort is harder to
reach and is a bit quieter and we can enjoy a stroll at our own pace. Restoration
work is taking place and watching the women mix mortar before carrying on their
heads to the men folk is a bit strange but watching the scaffolding being built
and the use of bamboo ladders would send H&S wild.
After a superb lunch in a local restaurant we
go to look at the block printing which is famous in this area. We end up (as anticipated)being shown the
most amazing carpets that look lovely but as we didn’t come to buy a carpet we
admire but don’t engage. Mohammed, the
salesman who took our stance with good grace was extremely passionate about his
carpets and we had to admit that the quality, particularly of the silk on silk
creations was excellent.
Curiosity got the better of me and I asked
the price of a particularly stunning carpet.
2,800 English Rupees!
I nearly
choked and said that I would have to win the Clyde Lottery to afford it, and
for that price I’d expect the carpet to be able to fly!