goody bag

The Diary - India

animation
arrow menu bar image map

Wednesday 3 December Hotel: The train
There was a rustling during the night and a squeak of locks. In my paranoid sleepy state at 4am in the morning I thought it was an Indian trying to get into our room in the black of night - there was a power cut which happens more than 40% of the hours of the day here. But no, after a few torch shines (waking the girls proved to be very unpopular) the rustles continued on the floor somewhere near Aislings bed-mattress. She jumped into the large double bed and I shone the torch on the rat as it scuttled over Aislings vacant mattress and into the bathroom. We woke again at 8.30am and packed up by candlelight. We boarded a decrepit local bus (12 IR) for the hours journey to Fatehpur Sikri 40kms out of Agra. The bus sped past the greeny-yellow fields, stalls selling everything from cane chairs which were made by squatting women beside the stall to fruit and veg. We observed the facial expressions and bodily movements of the men and women toiling at their respective tasks, the school kids in the playgrounds, the cattle and animals roaming the streets and the busy bicycled rushing through the traffic. The fort at Fatehpur Sikri was deserted soon after it was built by the Mughal Emperor Akbar for the Saint who lived there who announced the much awaited birth of his first heir-son. The palace grounds were picturesque is a bit eerie due to their skeletal formation and barren landscaped courtyards with the human-sized game board where the emperor used slave girls as pawns as he commanded the game from his perch throne high in one of the temples. The gardens however were full of blossoms and green tidy grass offsetting the silhouettes of the building tops. We moved on to the Jama Masjid or Daragh Mosque, an exact replica of the mosque at Mecca which was beautiful. From the corner we saw the Elephant Gate and Tower pricked with real elephant tusks protruding to form what looks like a huge medieval torture tool. However the whole day was ruined by touts and guides hassling us for money, Indians for photos (they like us to be in their photographs with them - I would hate to be famous), kids shouting for school pens, baksheesh, rupees, chocolate, and everyone insisting on talking with us. It may seem rude but you get sick of everyone around you all the time pulling out of you when you just want to see the sights in peace - "you from England? - No; America? - No; Aussie? - No; Where from - Ireland; Oh Holland, lovely country - No Irrreland: Oh, part of England - No GO AWAY and leave us alone". They follow you keeping talking to you without any answer and explain the obvious to you pointing at a dome and saying with a grin - DOME - Yes I can see that. You try to explain that you have a map and can read and they nod and then point at the main gate and say - GATE and grin. We tried to improve our mood with roasted monkey nuts and boarded the bus back to Agra, another crokety tin can with a carpet of crackling monkey nuts which pinched you bum as you squashed onto you seats. About 10km outside Agra the bus stopped - I took the opportunity to snap a young boy perched on a pole with wide eyes. 30 minutes later still there and trucks and busses were turning around. So we got out and walked in the direction which we had been driving. As we neared a rope stretched shoulder height across the road the crowds behind it saw us and started to brew. Oncoming mobs of children waving sticks in the air started for us screaming - we were extremely scared. A sympathetic Indian man grabbed us over the sewers to the side awhile other gentlemen shouted at the kids to leave us alone. We didn't understand and left hurriedly down the road with a trickle of kids pulling out of us, one girl shoving a new born puppy in our faces which isn't so cute when it is in your face. I ran to take a photo of an elephant trudging up the street and we eventually found an auto rickshaw to take us to our hotel. About 1 km before the Taj there was another roadblock - they wanted us to pay parking fees to get into the surroundings. We wouldn't so had to walk the rest of the way. But no, nothing could be that simple. There was another blockade outside the Taj as VIPs and 3 fire brigades were driving out the gates. We eventually got back to the hotel. The journey that had taken us one hour on a bus in the morning had taken 3 hours with various forms of transport on the return.
We got an auto-rickshaw to the station at 7pm. The train on Platform 1, advertised as our 2307 train due to depart at 7.50 was not there - another one was standing at the platform in its' stead. We had only discovered it was not our one after completing the necessary 6 checks with different sources and running up and down the train trying to figure out the Hindu script. We decided that it was not ours and grinned with clenched teeth when it pulled out of the station at 8.10. At 8.20 another train chugged into the packed platform. Eventually we risked it and got on to the carriage we had worked out was ours. We were correct but our tickets which had been booked for 4 had only 3 seats / sleeps beds. So for the night Liz and myself had to try to share the top bunk which proved quite impossible to sleep on as we nearly fell off on numerous occasions and it is not wide enough to sleep top and tail. So we spent the night hunched over under the low roof, legs crossed unable to sleep in this semi-upright position and unable to read as the lights were off - so we just sat there listening to the various tones of snores and nasal breath and farts.

Thursday 4 December Hotel: Om Hotel, Pushkar Room Type: Two ensuite doubles ( 120 IR each) Verdict: good, clean, hot showers, restaurant
Got to Jaipur at 4am and waited at the wrong platform for our connecting 5.15 train (6 confirmations and a look at the noticeboard proved to still not be enough to get it correct.) At 5.10 still no train and we got worried so we went to the only platform where there was a train which had been there for over an hour. Liz went off in search of someone to tell us where our train was. She came back saying it was due at platform 6 - the vacant one next to platform 7 where the train was. We waited. At 5.15 we heard and Indian voice shouting "Elizabeth" A guy with the sheet was looking for us and running up and down the platforms shouting the only name he could read (Queen Elizabeth and all that). So we got onto the train that had been there all along - it had been waiting for us to get on! The trip was fine and we slept most of the way. The train was due to arrive at 7am in Ajmer so we set our two alarm clocks. At 6.55 the train pulled in to a station and we hurriedly got out of our sleeping bags and stuffed them into their bags and then grabbed our boots, tied the laces, packed up our stuff and scrambled down from our bed bunks. No, wrong stop - false alarm - not there yet. We clambered back up and rested again. Same thing happened at 7.45 am and then at 8.15. Three false alarms later and half sleepy wakings we eventually got to the right station and disembarked at 8.30 am. We decided to treat ourselves and get our first taxi to Pushkar 11km away. We chose a tout we thought was deserving and followed him to his taxi. We walked along the rows of Colonial ambassador cream curvy cars and got excited at the thought of finally getting to ride in one of the luxury vehicles. His was the one covered in rust. Ah well, what can you do. It took 10 slams to get my door to close, ditto for the back seat doors. The he turned on the ignition - nothing - not a squeak. He tried a few more times - no go. So he rolled the taxi out of its parking space to the middle runway. 10 people got around the car to help push. We did not squirm in our seats but held our heads proud that at least we were sitting in a once-posh taxi car. We were pushed the length of the station carpark - nothing happening so we rolled reversing back again - another try to launch the craft down the runway proved unsuccessful - as did the next - another reversal. Next time luck -yes, yes, yes a spark and a noise - we cheered unashamedly but no it went quiet again. Then we were pushed by the nose of a jeep which had journeyed to the back of the taxi to help. No luck, we were asked to get out of the vehicle which we did and the jeep nosed the taxi the length of the station as we ran beside it as our rucksacks were in the boot and Rule No. 1 in India - do not lose sight of your rucksack - even if this was a very complex scam. No, go. By this time all the men in the station were helping, some smiling at us saying it would work eventually and not to worry. Funnily enough after are bad night we were light hearted and thought it all quite amusing really. The first time we were treating ourselves and we were getting our moneys worth. Numerous attempts by which time we had given up running back and forth with the two attached vehicles and at the far end of the station we hear a rev - Yes - we all run - 3 Irish girls and 60 Indian men - up to the car and the Indian men struggle to open the doors and invite us inside to sit with a curving sweep of their arms. It took a lot of slamming to get the doors shut again and we were off!!!!!!!! On up the winding hills, on one bend Aislings door decided to open but she did not fall out however great an addition it would be to the story. We arrived in Pushkar very tired and hotel hunted finding the Om hotel the best. A around the lake and the clean ghats proved quite uneventful compared to the ghats in Varanassi, but the various shops and jewellers delighted us. We stuffed our faces on a vegetable buffet - 40R for all you can eat.

Fridday 5 December Hotel: Om Hotel, Pushkar
Got up and ate a healthy buffet breakfast. Walked around the area and bought clothes that we could get altered ( legs shortened for me!) and observed street-life in this important Hindu pilgrimage site. We snapped happily at deformed droopy oxen, a cow with an extra leg hanging out of the side of its head, fruit and veg sellers, colourful women and saw a goatcow which was the size of a cow and had the body of a cow but had the head and cloven feet of a goat - really spooky. I tried twice to get a henna tattoo done by a little cheeky girl but it faded within minutes on both occasions - little chancer. We watched the sun set by the Pumpernickel bakery on the ghat where everyone settles down to watch the sun disappear on the other side of the lake behind the high fairytale mount. A lot of Israelis were there and many would-be musicians beating various instruments and plucking strings and competing with the orange turbaned Indians looking for money. Ate another buffet and sat down to draw and write the hundreds of Christmas postcards to be sent to friends and family.

Thursday 4 December Hotel: Om Hotel, Pushkar
Today I exchanged my bright blue/purple fleece with an old smiley shop owner who had tailored trousers for Andrea and Liz. He had spotted it yesterday, loved the colour and offered me anything in his shop to swap for it. I took a bit of money instead. It suited him and he smiled and pointed up to the roof area where his wife was looking down smiling and said "Yes, my wife likes it" with a great big grin - It was a lovely feeling and Ais took a last photo of him wearing the fleece with his arm around me. Ais and myself then visited the barber stall / shop and I got my hair chopped - literally with a scissors that looked like two old blades stuck together with and screw. We got a head and back massage also which was fabulous. We boarded the 6 pm bus for Ajmer at 5.55 and was still on it at the stop at 6.15 with no sign of the driver. As our train was due to leave at 7.15 we rushed to find a taxi and ended up getting a jeep and being 150R lighter but the trip was fun overtaking on the raging hills in a safer jeep. We got to the platform on time but - surprise, surprise the train was late. We pulled out of the station at 9.45 pm to discover that other people were booked into our seats. Boy is that rail reservation man going to get it when we get back ( he also overcharged us by double the price but we did not cop-on till after we collected the tickets and by then we were on the train).

Sunday 7 December Hotel: Jaipur Inn Room Type: Dormitory ( 60 Rs each) Verdict: very clean and nice - no hot shower though.
Got in at 1am and went straight to the Jaipur Inn where the manager with the English public school accent welcomed us and a bright eyed young lad booked us in sleepily. We trudged through the polluted streets lined by oxen, camels getting fitted out for whatever cart they would be pulling today with their henna tattoo markings on their heads and backs. Pigs are prevalent, a new sight with their snouts in all types of faces and sewers and with hairy wart hog backs - they look frightening. The old city of Jaipur is surrounded by a huge red wall and inside is tremendously noisy and crowded. Women were squatting by whatever they had to offer be it fruit, veg, terracotta vases, bright gold and coloured threads, monkey nuts etc. However we were tired and cranky today and everything was getting to us especially the gnarled dead rat that someone threw at Andrea - it landed on her top then toppled down to rest on her fleece which was knotted around her waist and then fell to the ground as she let a shriek realising what it was. Also we could not find the damned City Palace and the Temple of Winds as people were sending us in every different direction. At one stage we ended up at the foot of the huge mount on top of which the fort lies. So we soaked up the atmosphere took a few photos of the hectic traffic round about and markets and headed back to the hotel. It was Sunday and some things shut on a Sunday so we had to eat chiapatti and spicy sauce in the train station (chiapatti is the basic flat flour bread always served here). Andrea looked up at the entrance to the station and saw a Pizza Hut 1km sign but we had no time cos the train was on time for once. The seat numbers on our prebooked tickets did not correspond to the ones on the train so we eventually found our ones by the computer print out and sat for the whole journey while listening to a bunch of silly women sing a harmonious song out of tune and out of harmony which lasted the whole trip. The man opposite me was gullying and spitting it onto the floor at my feet and Lizs' next door neighbour was farting and burping all the time and did not give her much room, the men helped themselves to me newspaper which was OK but they did not once use the words thank you and did not even smile an appreciative grin - Ah well.

Monday 8 December Hotel: Shanti Bhawarma, Jodhpur Room Type: Four bedded room ( 300IR) Verdict: not good, dirty and noisy but not much choice here.
Christmas soon. Mum told me that she went shopping on Grafton Street and it was full of jovial people and Christmas lights, poetry readings and general bonhomie - Missing home at this time of year - well just a little. Ate breakfast at the Govind hotel (again expensive) overlooking the massive fort before jumping into an autorickshaw and padding the pearl white Jaswant Thanda to the Meherangarh Fort.
"The work of angels, fairies and giants.... Built by Titans and coloured by the morning sun..... he who walks through it, loses sense of being among buildings. It is as though he walked though mountain gorges...: Rudyard Kipling, on Jodhpur Fort; Letters of Marque, 1899.
We chatted to a shop owner who invited us in for chai and a chat. He owns a export business and spends 4 months of the year in Brisbane Australia. It was odd to talk about Australia with an Indian who put on the accent extremely well to punctuate his stories. The cannon area of the ramparts looks out over the city, the red palace in the distance, the temples and their stagnant waterpools, the blue roofed houses of the Bhrawan faith and the silhouette of the museum far on the horizon. In the museum we witnessed Rajasthan miniature painting so intricate in detail, and items form the palace and the older periods. In the courtyard we had our palms read professionally and he was quite accurate his interpretation. That night we dined on the roof of our hotel and watched the local villagers perform their beautiful Rajasthan folk dances by firelight. The meal was expensive but worth every penny.

Tuesday 9 December Hotel: Golden City Hotel, Jaiselmar Room Type: Two ensuite double bedrooms ( 80R each) Verdict: Fantastic, hot water, restaurant, clean extremely helpful people
We got off the train at 6.30 am and were pleasantly surpassed not to be attacked by touts when we came out of the station. Jaiselmar stations is extremely well run and organised and auto-rickshaws queue in neat single file outside the exit and a bit to the side jeeps from the various hotel stand still holding the banners of their hotels - no shouting and screaming. We went with the Golden City hotel even though it is not in the Lonely Planet cos the waiter at the restaurant last night gave us their card and promised a 30% discount. It proved to be very good advice. We slept for a while and then ate breakfast on the roof. There we met Dave from Sydney who had just completed an 11 day camel trek on his own in the desert with a guide who could speak no English. He also told us he met 2 German girls who had just been 10 days in a retreat where they were not allowed speak at all and just sat for 10 hours every day meditating - HELP. We organised our own quick camel trek away from the touristy area near Jaiselmar which meant we had to hire a jeep and therefore was more expensive but was worth it (850R for 2 days and one night). The 5 of us walked through the beautiful golden fort of Jaiselmar after tasting the local lassis and were in happyland. Everything was closed today, Dave heard that it was due to someone falling off the ramparts, 6 people died last week when some of the wall fell over onto the market. However we learned later that the nephew of the Maharagha had died due to some liver ailment and the whole town was in mourning. I tried another henna - which did not work again and we walked home later that evening while the sun set over the golden city.

Wednesday 10 December Hotel: A sand dune
Drove in our jeep, visiting a beautiful temple on the way to our camel trek beginning destination. My camel was moody, Liz was old and walked very funnily like and old bouncing dinosaur, Andrea's had weird fetishes and Aislings was a little baby that had to be led. Mine would not obey me steering and went the opposite direction to the way I yanked the rope trudging off away from the group with my squeals as I screamed at our guide to stop the damn thing bumping up and down while trying to keep steady. Andrea's liked to walk through bushes to scratch itself - through the middle of bushes, fine- except when he bushes were thorn bushes - she learned a lot of ambidextrous leg movements. Liz's camel was the oldest and the leader and was good but was hilarious to watch as its lips and neck bobbed up and down as it walked. Aislings was permanently tied to the back of the guides camel and she was like an upset little school boy cos she wasn't allowed to steer it herself and take control so she just looked around her bored while we were all screaming at the camels to stop bobbong on distant horizons. We dismounted and relaxed and ate desert made food during the afternoon in the middle of a barren desert - amazing. At dinner time we housed ourselves at the bottom of a huge sand dune and us girls went in search of firewood while our guide prepared the food. We gathered huge amounts of fine white twigs and settled them in a pile at the base of our dune while we explored making footprints in the virgin sand. That night we ate well and had lots of fun singing and telling stories around the fire - Ais was in charge of feeding the fire and did so while putting on her best Meath accent and doing a Barbara Woodhouse pokes the fire with the branch 'poaker'. Liz did a silhouette dance on the top of the sand dune which made us crease over with laughter especially when she got carried away and started to tumble across our line of vision and then down the dune to our feet. The sunset was the most amazing yet a huge ball of fire settling comfortably behind the sandy dunes and lightening up the wispy clouds with a fierce red hue.... WOW again. The moon was very bright and the night did not get dark till it disappeared over the horizon at 3 am. And then we had a brilliantly clear view of the zillions of stars.

Thursday 11 December Hotel: Golden City Hotel, Jaiselmar
Dry toast for breakie and then threw our leg over the camels back ( which was by now extremely sore, our legs and the camels back probably too). The camels argued with each other to get to the front of the trail and we were constantly pulling our legs up to avoid scars and collisions - I failed once and Aislings saddle gave me a nice bright red horizontal cut on my shin. Andrea got tangled up in Aislings saddle also (by now she had been let loose from the back of the guides camel). We were tired by lunch time and had had enough of camel riding and Aislings and Liz's stomachs were burning off them which is not a good thing when you have to bob up and down on a camel for hours at a time. We got lost on a farm and our camel went haywire tangling themselves in fences and bushels. We made our one and only stop at a local desert village with clay houses and screaming kids looking for the usual chocolate and rupees and trying to rip our camera and necklaces from around our necks. At 5pm in the evening our jeep came over the horizon in a cinematic cloud of dust and appeared from the dusty film at our camels feet. We bade goodbye to our camels and guide and jeeped home to our lovely hotel in Jaiselmar.

Friday 12 December Hotel:the train
Walked around the now open fort and enjoyed the bustle of everyday quaint life of washing, eating and praying - all very visual. The streets are narrow and compact with intricately details latticed temples and golden facades. The view over the desert from this middle-of-nowhere city ramparts was beautiful and we could walk through the deceptively large fort in a matter of minutes as many areas were cordoned off due to the danger of falling walls and rocks. We left for the station at 10pm sad to leave this wonderful place.

Saturday 13 December Hotel: Shanti Bhawarma, Jodhpur; again - no choice Room Type: Four bedded room ( 300IR) Verdict: not good, dirty and noisy but not much choice here.
Roamed the city again through the market bazaar and under the clock tower. Boarded our train to Delhi at 5.30pm after eating a spicy thali at the retiring rooms in the station.

Sunday 14 December Hotel: Anoop Hotel, Paharganj, Delhi Room Type: Four bedded room ( 360R) Verdict: fine
Went on the rampage to the 'Gov tourist office' which in reality had nothing to do with the Government. We asked the guy why had we been charged a certain price and was the price on the ticket correct. He got angry and said that the price was each and not for the 4 of us and did we really think that train journeys in India was that cheap. We exited red-faced awaiting our tickets to Calcutta the following day which he informed us was still wait-listed and needed to be confirmed. Not content with the explanation for the ticket prices all of which we wittingly had kept and not handed over at each station, we went directly to the station where we split up with a ticket each in our hands and did a famous five of asking around what the story was. I found the security area where the uniformed men try their best to make sure people are not ripped off. We regrouped all with the same information that indeed the ticket price was for the 4 of us and not each as the guy had told us. Fuming and knowing the guy had deliberately and blatantly lied to us we asked the nice security guard in pretty little innocent voices what should we do. He took the card of the agency from us which we had kept also and phoned them. We stood waiting the verdict and he said that a person from the office would be coming over. It took them one hour to cross the street and by this time we were all extremely tense and nervous and felt like we were awaiting exam results. A man came - but not the guy we had been dealing with. The guard spoke to him and he cowered away. The guard then came to us and told us that they were scared and the other man had gone over to get the man in charge. In the meantime he asked me to formally write my complaint - just to scare them which I did on the back of a computer print out - very formally. Ninety minutes and no nails later another guy came over. The guard spoke to him and then turned to the 4 of us and told 2 of us to go with him to the office and 2 to stay there. I gave my valuables to the girls and Ais and myself trudged over feeling like the condemned. The guard called me back and whispered not to let them have any power or to bully us - in so may words. We went over and sat in front of "the big man" who asked us what our quandary was. I explained in detail to him and had written out our agenda and costing and calculations ( in big letters mum!). We had paid 11575 rupees for tickets with a face value of 5690. After a lot of pressing buttons on the calculator he agreed and asked us so what did we want. Obviously we said we wanted the difference back. He smiled and said but the work involved - Don't care your company deliberately ripped us off and when we offered the chance for explanation lied to us further. He made a big deal of saying the other guy would be fired etc... - don't care he is in charge, he should control his employees. He wanted 1000 Rupees for his effort and the fact that he had to come from home - don't care we have waited for 4 hours to clear this up and it has upset us and ruined our feelings for Delhi. You put a sharp knife in my back and you turn it - he said - don't care give us our money. After one hour of deliberations his aide threw money at us but refused to give us the Calcutta ticket until I signed a statement retracting my complaint. I said I would only do it when we got the tickets (as the tickets were for the following day it was very difficult to get new ones booked and we were on a tight schedule so could not risk a few days waiting for another train seat to become available) - Another stalemate.
more

On to Southeast Asia

Back to The Diary

Back to The Route


This page hosted by Get your own Free Home Page
This web site is designed and maintained by Catherine Wilson © 1997
1