Jaipur

09/06/2013

Another bad night sleep, this time I dreamt a man and a woman outside had taken the air conditioning unit off the wall and climbed into our room to rob us.  I can remember hiding from a guy walking around the room and then thinking “no! He can’t rob me!” and jumping out of bed and checking I still had my netbook and tablet.  Then I couldn’t get back to sleep as I was so on edge and kept peering up at the AC unit waiting for it to be taken off again and be faced with the mysterious woman in black and her side-kick.  In hindsight I could have clearly taken them both.  I must remember to be more ballsy in my sleepwalking. 

Turns out that despite me speaking to the Tourist Info guy on the phone the day before and him telling us we were definitely leaving at 11pm tonight to get the train to Mumbai our driver insists we are leaving 9am tomorrow morning.  He goes to collect the tickets and it turns out he’s right (what the man on the phone was on about is a complete mystery).  This means we need to stay at the hotel for a second night (when we’ve only paid for one) and we’re arriving at 06:30am in Mumbai with our big bags and nowhere to stay and no internet access to find somewhere to stay.  It’s day 3 without internet and I’m suddenly at my limit!  We ask if there’s anywhere nearby with internet and the answer is no.  Brilliant.  Housten, we have a problem.  I MUST check my emails, I MUST check my Facebook, I need contact with the world!!!! I’m used to have it wherever I am whenever I want, 3 days is too long.  I’ve developed a twitch in my eye.

We have another guide for the day and he takes us to the old palace.  It’s only 10am and it is absolutely boiling!  We speak to the guide and it turns out we are in India in the hottest time of the year.  What a perfect time for Caucasian English folk to visit India!  Even the locals are struggling in the heat, you see them frequently just laying down in the shade here, there any everywhere they find a spot so how we’re still standing is a miracle.  Luckily the palace had utilized a lot of innovative designs to keep it cool without having electricity so the parts we looked at inside would have a cool breeze at least which offered temporary relief before you were back out in the 40° heat again.  

Man taking a nap on the central reservation.  Definitely the best place he could have found to nap.

We both drank over 2 litres of water each within 90 minutes and I didn’t wee until 4pm when we stopped for food.  That gives an idea of how much we were sweating!  (Will more than me, I’m a lady, I perspire perfume).  I’ve never struggled so much with stairs in my life.  I think I got up them easier just after I’d broken my back when getting up to go to the toilet would wipe me out for an hour.  We’d walk up half a flight and I’d need to sit down afterwards.  I’m definitely going to need a bungalow when I’m old and wear purple (that’s a funny poem, check out my ‘notes’ on Facebook if you want to read it, it’s exactly how I’ll be when I’m an OAP).

There was a small temple outside the palace and all the locals were going in.  They’d all kiss their hands then touch the top of the door frame and then the floor on entering.  Inside there was a bell that they’d ring (symbolic of ringing a doorbell when you wish to enter someone’s house) then there were lots of candles burning and they’d run their hand through the flame and then run their hands through their hair before kneeling down on the floor to give worship.

The old palace was very spectacular so it was worth tolerating the heat to see it.  The King had had 2 wives that had both had their own apartments and they had made the palace extremely beautiful using mosaics and mirrors.  They had used great ideas to cool the place and to communicate with the servants and it was very interesting to hear about it.

The King had also built a lake and a floating garden outside so he could grow saffron which needs moisture and cooler temperatures.  

Jaipur has a wall built all around it reminiscent of the Great Wall of China.  It’s 20ft high and 9 ft wide and is 18km long.  It took 18 years to build and surrounds the city entirely encompassing the 3.5 million population.  

I go so very red when I’m hot and look like a massive tool to run the risk of being overly descriptive.  The blonde hair seems to make the colour stand out even more and I just glow.  They could use my boat race after a work out as means to stop traffic.  Despite my off-putting appearance people were still wanting to take photos with us, a lot!  It was like being a celebrity!

Some of my many fans :o)

Having the car waiting outside was amazing as we could get straight in and cool down.  Most buses aren’t air conditioned and even though tuk tuk’s are open the air is so hot and close they’re too hot to use.  If we didn’t have the car waiting there was a high chance I probably would have just passed out if I knew I couldn’t escape the heat instantly.  It would have been fun for Will in the scorching heat to have to carry my limp body back down a hill to find me water.  I wouldn’t have blamed him for just leaving me and saving himself.

 

Our driver took us back to the fabric warehouse to pick up our stuff and one of the workers who spoke very good English had a chat with Will regarding the tuxedo, which he knew exactly what it was.  Where was he last night?!  Will ended up getting one ordered so was measured up (I checked and there was no cupping).  Whilst this was happened I tried on my top and one of the men showed me how to do a sari.  You’re meant to wear a petticoat underneath which is what you tuck it into to hold it up but as I didn’t have one they gave me a potato sack type thing to do the job instead.  I tied it up nice and tightly so it would hold up the weight of the silk and the man set about showing me how to fix it.  He was very over-zealous with his folding and I’m guessing felt that his potato sack wasn’t secure enough for the sari and proceeded to tuck it into my skimpy lace thong also.  Thongs are known for their sturdiness!

Due to the weight of the sari it was dragging down my potato sack and now my pants with it so the level at which he was tucking was literally at the top of the pubic zone and he was also shoving his hand right down to tuck in the sari!  I don’t know if he was doing it on purpose knowing us western sluts wear skimpy underwear or if he honestly didn’t realize he was doing it but either way he got an eyeful and a stroke-full of the nether regions.  Filthy bugger. 

It is a gorgeous sari though, I can’t wait to wear it! Shame I can’t rock it at home….or can I?

After the fabric factory we went to the observatory.  The old King had been very interested in stars and horoscopes and he commissioned the observatory to be built designing a lot of the pieces himself.  There are giant sundials that have only a 20 second inaccuracy, items that show you the specific constellations, what horoscope month we’re in etc.  One of the sun dials had 2 sides at a 180° angle to each other depending what 6 months of the year they are in.  As India is on the equator the sun’s angle changes massively through the seasons, until I saw those sundials I had no idea but how much.  Where we’re on the top of the globe we have no real change.

Lots more people took photos of us here.  Some of them will ask for you to pose and others just take them.  I had to stop and put more suncream on and it was like I was putting on a show!  Suncream will be alien to them over here anyway as they have no need for it but I wasn’t expecting such attention for it.  It is quite amusing. (Until they follow you on a motorbike for an hour then, not so much). 

Our guide showed us a museum with all of the old kings robes in.  How he wore any of these in this heat is beyond me.  They were so heavy and thick!  He was also a champion polo player who won many tournaments.  The current King is only 15 years old and clearly has some big shoes to fill (once he’s grown some more).  The previous King only had 1 daughter and a woman can’t take the throne so her son became King when her Father died.  It’s definitely better having  a kid who barely has pubes ruling a city than a woman.  What do women know?!

The current king is the child on the left, the family on the right is the old King, his wife (to his right) and his daughter (the mother of the current King)

We picked up some bottled water then headed back to the car.  Halfway through the bottles Will said that they had broken seals so we binned them and bought some more, crossing our fingers it was purely a weak seal rather than re-filled water.

After here we drove through the Pink City.  All the buildings were painted pink in honour of a visit from the Prince of Wales in the mid 1800’s and since then they have had to keep them all pink.  It sounds garish but it’s a nice type of pink and the streets are kept nice and clean here too.  

One of the gates into the city

 We stopped for a late lunch and I had the best Korma I’ve ever had! (Yes, I had a korma.  I don’t like spicy food and I was hungry! I wanted to eat something I’d enjoy!).  We’ve not seen onion baji’s anywhere, or pashwari naans or mango chutney.  These must be English versions of Indian food, they didn’t even seem to know what mango chutney or onion baji’s were!

They had a guy in there playing a traditional Indian musical instrument, a bit like a one string fiddle thing.  It sounded like a bag of cats being raped.  We were the only people in there and every time the wailing ceased (I’m guessing that must have been the end of his ‘song’) he would demand our attention like a needy child to give him praise.  I’d have praised him for burning the thing and burying the ashes!

When I went to the toilet I was in for a treat; toilet paper!!!! They had 2 spare rolls in there too so I pocketed one.  I’m sure the footnote in the bible under the 10 commandments allows stealing when you are in a country that doesn’t believe in the wonders of toilet paper and you’re waiting for Delhi belly to hit you at any minute. 

After lunch we went up to a fort on top of the mountain, I recognized the road from the Top Gear India special when they race up it in all forms of transport.  Halfway up we stop to take in the view and my stomach starts to churn a bit.  I whisper to Will I need the toilet who loudly asks (in front of our fluent guide) if it’s a number 1 or a number 2.  The guide then says there are toilets at the fort; I was considering jumping behind the wall with my stolen bog roll and just going for it, but I refrained and commenced clenching.

All the way up the hill I’m concentrating on keeping clenched (I can’t hold a poo for long normally so my fear was well justified) and praying with every corner turned that we’d be faced with a fort entrance with toilets right next door.  We finally arrive at the fort and I’m in awe that the seat beneath me is still clean!  We go through the gates and I ask where the toilets are; about 500 yards away.  That’s like running a marathon before you can take the stone out of your shoe!  I start off on a brisk walk but this is bitter/sweet as although I’m getting to the toilet faster the jiggling motion is shunting the poop further and further down the shute.  (Unnecessarily graphic description?  Probably, but I want you to understand my discomfort). 

It’s at this perfectly convenient point that my lovely, handmade Indian sandals decide to break after only having worn them for half a day.  In a style likened to the Forest Gump scene where his leg braces come apart I rip the shoe from my foot without breaking stride, thrust it at Will and continue charging forth with my tunnel vision blocking out the burning sensation from my foot on the hot rocks.

After a power walk up an incline I blast past 2 men I think were wanting money for the toilet, they must have seen the look in my eye and knew not to stop me.  I nearly didn’t even stop to lock the door!  My stolen toilet paper was infact a gift from heaven as the toilet had none of its own and that would not have been pretty!

As soon as I was out I swallowed two anti-diarrhoea  tablets to ensure that did not happen again!  (I’m writing this up 24hrs later and so far so good!) 

After the initial panic we fixed my shoe with a safety pin to enable me to walk and we looked round the rest of the fort.  The view over the city was absolutely incredible!  It was at this point that my camera decided to die.  First the shoe then the camera.  The only design flaw in my camera is that for some reason Fuji decided you didn’t need a battery indicator.  It flashes up red literally seconds before it shuts down and that’s notice enough it would seem!  It meant I wasn’t able to get a full panoramic shot of the best view of the city.  Typical!

2 parts of a 3 part panaromic (camera died before getting the final part)

On the way back down the mountain we saw loads of wild peacocks, the national bird of India.  The guide was like a professional pea spotter.  He could see a camouflaged pea hen from 20 yards!  I wonder if he can do the same with speed cameras....I might have to bring him home with me if so.

We got back to the hotel after a good day taking in the sights of Jaipur and the men from the suit shop came round for Will’s fitting.  The jacket was a bit too big (despite me saying in the shop he wanted slim fitting not comfort and both him and the salesman disagreed with me) so he needs it taken in by 1.5 inches.  The trousers also don’t showcase his fantastic bottom either so I requested that to be altered too.  I fine thing such as that must be showed off. 

They gave me my sari (as they’d taken it back to hem it) and the guy offered to help me put it on again.  Yeah I’m not surprised Pervy Perverson!  Think I’ve got this myself, cheers. 

Jaipur has a lot of history and character and things to see and we both said it was our favourite place so far.  When Will was looking at our schedule he had wanted to skip it all together so I’m glad we didn’t.  We are now up there with the A list greats of Liz Hurley, Julia Roberts and, best of all, Ricki Martin who have all visited Jaipur.