Days Five through Seven -- Land of Maharajahs & Moguls
Found the first and only pair of Jodhpur pants on a guide at the 15th Century Mehrangarh Fort and palace, an imposing and impressive piece of architecture whose 6-mile-long wall rings the oasis city. We viewed the examples of intricately carved weaponry, palanquins and miniature paintings while listening to an audio guide featuring stories from the last Maharajah, who was crowned at the Fort in 1952 at the age of four. (No photos allowed inside, sorry!) What goes on down below the fort in the streets of Jodhpur is a far cry from the pomp and circumstance that occupied the lives of the landed gentry. Below is a video taken as we approached the main market square.
Pride in Poetry
Indians have a love of music and poetry that is legendary. On our pillow in the hotel in Jodhpur, instead of chocolates, we found this excerpt from an 1893 poem:
A SONG OF JODHPORE
There's a place in Rajputana with a fort of old renown
and a liberal-hearted fine old king,
and the traveller who visits that most hospitable town
hears a lot about Sir Pratap Singh
He is a minister and commandant of cavalry in one,
and his fellows, by Jove, can ride.
You should go there for a 'pig-stick'
if you want to see some fun.
There are pigs, sir, on every side.
CHORUS
Hunting the gallant boar,
Englishman and Rathore,
Brothers in sport, ride o'er,
The sandy plain of Jodhpore.
A SONG OF JODHPORE
There's a place in Rajputana with a fort of old renown
and a liberal-hearted fine old king,
and the traveller who visits that most hospitable town
hears a lot about Sir Pratap Singh
He is a minister and commandant of cavalry in one,
and his fellows, by Jove, can ride.
You should go there for a 'pig-stick'
if you want to see some fun.
There are pigs, sir, on every side.
CHORUS
Hunting the gallant boar,
Englishman and Rathore,
Brothers in sport, ride o'er,
The sandy plain of Jodhpore.
Out into the Countryside
Leaving Jodhpur, we headed southwest about 30 miles to the edge of the Thar Desert to a village called Mihirgarh. Our hotel rose out of the landscape like a giant sand castle. It is owned by a descendant of a local maharajah, who still lives in his ancestral home a few miles from the hotel. He and his wife designed this exquisite place and had it built and furnished entirely with local materials and crafts. While not entirely a zero-carbon establishment, its footprint is reduced by eco-friendly practices like rainwater collection (from monsoon rains once a year), use of florescent lighting (which was incredibly subtle) and some solar. Much of this seems to have been inspired by the Vishnu villagers who live nearby and like to think of themselves as the world's first environmentalists. They live completely off the land, use no electricity and are completely vegetarian. Their huts are made of a composite of dung and clay with thatched roofs woven of branches you see being carried in huge piles on the heads of local women. Speaking of women, much of their role in the working class, aside from caring for children and the home, seems to be limited to gathering, carrying and hauling. You never see them driving vehicles of any sort or running shops, though they do bring vegetables and handicrafts to market and set up carts to sell their wares. I also visited a Brahmin village. The Brahmins are the highest caste in the hierarchy of this highly segmented society. I was treated to a welcome opium ceremony, which included sipping opium tea from the palm of one of the village elders. Throughout the villages, children and young people waved at us in excited greetings while the adults met us with penetrating gazes. The cows, goats and sheep seemed oblivious as they thronged through the streets, making chaos even in this most bucolic of settings.
Camping like Kings (and queens)
We didn't have to move far from our sand castle hotel in order to check into the "Wilderness Camp" for our next night's stay in Mihirgarh. Eight sleeping tents and a canvas pavilion made up the camp with a small staff that catered to our every need -- including plugging in our solar-powered heated mattress pads to prepare us for the 45-degree night time air. How else could Madonna, Guy Richie and their kids have survived their Christmas vacation here in January just a couple of years ago?
We spent the afternoon riding horses on the savannah-like plains. Ben and Sylvia had never ridden before, so they appreciated the incredibly gentle nature of the horses, which were bred from the line of Marwar stallions that centuries of Rajput warriors had ridden into battle. Much of the trail we rode was in a dry river bed that in a "good" year fills up during July and August with monsoon rains, bringing the level up to 15 feet. The rest of the year might see only a few more inches of rain in total and it's hard to believe that crops can grow at all under those conditions, but they do, if the crops are well-chosen for their drought-tolerance.
Our evening was spent by a hearth inside the tented pavilion, where we ate and visited with our host, the property owner and a descendant of the maharajah of Jodhpur, who was full of interesting perspectives on his fast-developing country. We retired on the early side, which was a good thing since at 2 a.m. we awoke to the spirited howls of a pack of dogs and jackals. Fortunately, it only took them a half-hour to sort out their squabble and with the help of some earplugs, we were back asleep in short order. All in all, camping Raj-style was a hoot. The only thing missing from the whole experience was the marshmallows.
We spent the afternoon riding horses on the savannah-like plains. Ben and Sylvia had never ridden before, so they appreciated the incredibly gentle nature of the horses, which were bred from the line of Marwar stallions that centuries of Rajput warriors had ridden into battle. Much of the trail we rode was in a dry river bed that in a "good" year fills up during July and August with monsoon rains, bringing the level up to 15 feet. The rest of the year might see only a few more inches of rain in total and it's hard to believe that crops can grow at all under those conditions, but they do, if the crops are well-chosen for their drought-tolerance.
Our evening was spent by a hearth inside the tented pavilion, where we ate and visited with our host, the property owner and a descendant of the maharajah of Jodhpur, who was full of interesting perspectives on his fast-developing country. We retired on the early side, which was a good thing since at 2 a.m. we awoke to the spirited howls of a pack of dogs and jackals. Fortunately, it only took them a half-hour to sort out their squabble and with the help of some earplugs, we were back asleep in short order. All in all, camping Raj-style was a hoot. The only thing missing from the whole experience was the marshmallows.
The Road to the Lake City of Udaipur
Our five-hour drive to Udaipur was broken up mid-way by a visit to a Jain Temple constructed entirely of marble and set in a hilly Shangri-La. The structure is supported by 1444 elaborately-carved marble pillars and filled with deities that mustn't be photographed. The Jain followers are strictly vegetarian to the point where they won't kill insects. Fortunately for us, there were no insects in the vicinity that day because we were armed with enough deet spray to fumigate the whole countryside, since we had opted out of taking anti-malaria medication. It was also fortunate that the monkey who didn't like having his picture taken was too lazy to get up and bite me because I had opted out of the rabies shots, too.
Leaving the temple, we followed a country road that snaked along the spine of a small mountain range and eventually led to a new four-lane super-highway that was strangely devoid of motorized vehicles. We passed more camels, lollygagging cows, bicycles and skipping children than anything else for at least 40 miles. When we came to the toll (and its manually-operated tollgate), I understood that people in this vicinity still were unwilling to pay for the privilege of a smooth, open road. They may also have heard about the numerous rock slides that left lanes impassable for miles. Or they may have noticed that people had a tendency to drive on the wrong side of the median with some frequency. I'm just glad I won't be going that way again.
We arrived in the city of Udaipur, with its many mountain-ringed lakes, just in time to enjoy a sunset ferry ride to our hotel.
Leaving the temple, we followed a country road that snaked along the spine of a small mountain range and eventually led to a new four-lane super-highway that was strangely devoid of motorized vehicles. We passed more camels, lollygagging cows, bicycles and skipping children than anything else for at least 40 miles. When we came to the toll (and its manually-operated tollgate), I understood that people in this vicinity still were unwilling to pay for the privilege of a smooth, open road. They may also have heard about the numerous rock slides that left lanes impassable for miles. Or they may have noticed that people had a tendency to drive on the wrong side of the median with some frequency. I'm just glad I won't be going that way again.
We arrived in the city of Udaipur, with its many mountain-ringed lakes, just in time to enjoy a sunset ferry ride to our hotel.