Sunday, January 29, 2006
Friday, January 27, 2006
More Bundi
The image of Ram at Sita's Swayamvara...
The path up to the palaces were always steep and stook a sharp turn just before the entrance, so that any invaders would find it difficult to generate momentum to knock down the doors...
The path up to the palaces were always steep and stook a sharp turn just before the entrance, so that any invaders would find it difficult to generate momentum to knock down the doors...
Me...
The palace in front of the old city. Once a upon a time, the Maharaja would gift these havelis to his ministers...
The Bundi Fort
The town of Bundi from the Palace...
The summer palaces of Bundi Fort...
The summer palaces of Bundi Fort...
The Gardens just below the summer palaces...
The amazing murals in the chambers of the maharani. Made up for the lack of intricate carving...
The massive jula within the palace...
More murals, except this was created by a Chinese artist so one can se an Asian Krishna...
The entrance to the palace...
Bundi Fort
Monday, January 23, 2006
Pushkar
Wrote this a couple of nights ago...
I thought Varanasi would be like this. Maybe it will be, just on an enormously massive scale. Varanasi has a population of one million something. Pushkar stands at a paltry 15,000. It has to be different.
Pushkar is famous for a couple of things. The first, well known event is the camel fair at the start of winter which attracts the masses from the world over. The second, less well known, is for its Brahma temple, one of only a handful around.
This is the place, though, for the laid back hippy, wanting to take things easy for a few days. The shops mainly cater for this kind of tourist but also for the main stream Lonely Planet tourist, selling incense sticks and holders, metal bracelets, bangles, necklaces, hats, kurtas, bindis, swords, paintings, t-shirts, camera rolls, memory cards, temporary tattoos, cds, books, nutella, snickers, toilet paper and the list goes on and on. And there are internet cafes at every corner, right next to restaurants serving 'home sick' meals such as pancakes, pizza and felafals (i must confess breakfast for the past two mornings has been chocolate pancakes, while I've also been quite tempted to pick up a jar of nutella for the onward journey). And this is the off-peak season. Around the time of the fair, hotel prices increase nine or ten-fold, so one can only imagine what else maybe available in luxury 'Swiss' tents.
Actually it was only after coming here did I realise the difference in backpacker tourists. To add some relativity, I thought I was roughing it out: cheap accommodation, cheap meals, no real short-term time limits, traveling by government bus, the next destination decided on a whim, not knowing the language and all with the aid of my Lonely Planet (which incidentally, is looking quite shabby and full of character!). I also border on the paranoid and don't trust anyone or anything.
But there are many white people who don't speak or read a shread of English (many of these backpackers, apart fron the English-speaking ones, come from the Asian countries, Israel, Spain, France, Germany and so on), trusting the internet cafÁé guy with his mp3 player, or eating of some dingy shack of the street. And they live a free unencumbered life. For some, Pushkar is a home away from home.
So then why do I worry? Why do I make up an alias? Why do I struggle speaking a Hindi which is so transparent as to mark out clearly that I don't live in India at all? Why?
I think at the heart of this lies the issue of identity. What am I? A foreigner or an Indian? As quick as a flash I tell every hotelier or the attendants at tourist attraction i'm an Indian, but seeing the vast number of sights in a wholly un-Indian way, clicking away with a camera not available locally. There are mixed convictions and reconciling both is slightly difficult.
Anyway, tomorrow I carry on to Jodhpur, the (believe it or not!) second largest city in Rajasthan after Jaipur.
I thought Varanasi would be like this. Maybe it will be, just on an enormously massive scale. Varanasi has a population of one million something. Pushkar stands at a paltry 15,000. It has to be different.
Pushkar is famous for a couple of things. The first, well known event is the camel fair at the start of winter which attracts the masses from the world over. The second, less well known, is for its Brahma temple, one of only a handful around.
This is the place, though, for the laid back hippy, wanting to take things easy for a few days. The shops mainly cater for this kind of tourist but also for the main stream Lonely Planet tourist, selling incense sticks and holders, metal bracelets, bangles, necklaces, hats, kurtas, bindis, swords, paintings, t-shirts, camera rolls, memory cards, temporary tattoos, cds, books, nutella, snickers, toilet paper and the list goes on and on. And there are internet cafes at every corner, right next to restaurants serving 'home sick' meals such as pancakes, pizza and felafals (i must confess breakfast for the past two mornings has been chocolate pancakes, while I've also been quite tempted to pick up a jar of nutella for the onward journey). And this is the off-peak season. Around the time of the fair, hotel prices increase nine or ten-fold, so one can only imagine what else maybe available in luxury 'Swiss' tents.
Actually it was only after coming here did I realise the difference in backpacker tourists. To add some relativity, I thought I was roughing it out: cheap accommodation, cheap meals, no real short-term time limits, traveling by government bus, the next destination decided on a whim, not knowing the language and all with the aid of my Lonely Planet (which incidentally, is looking quite shabby and full of character!). I also border on the paranoid and don't trust anyone or anything.
But there are many white people who don't speak or read a shread of English (many of these backpackers, apart fron the English-speaking ones, come from the Asian countries, Israel, Spain, France, Germany and so on), trusting the internet cafÁé guy with his mp3 player, or eating of some dingy shack of the street. And they live a free unencumbered life. For some, Pushkar is a home away from home.
So then why do I worry? Why do I make up an alias? Why do I struggle speaking a Hindi which is so transparent as to mark out clearly that I don't live in India at all? Why?
I think at the heart of this lies the issue of identity. What am I? A foreigner or an Indian? As quick as a flash I tell every hotelier or the attendants at tourist attraction i'm an Indian, but seeing the vast number of sights in a wholly un-Indian way, clicking away with a camera not available locally. There are mixed convictions and reconciling both is slightly difficult.
Anyway, tomorrow I carry on to Jodhpur, the (believe it or not!) second largest city in Rajasthan after Jaipur.
Thursday, January 19, 2006
The inventory
Right now I'm in Pushkar, most famous for the Camel Fair which occurs in October. I first caught a bus from Bundi to Ajmer and then another for the short trip to here.
I stayed at Hotel Poonam last night and this morning moved to Hotel Khanhiya, which does NOT have a TV.
I did a bit of shopping and picked up some socks(only wear shoes in India, cos I don't want cracked feet by the time I go back, and that it's easy to step in anything), and some Rupa Frontlines (if you know what I mean), bringing the playing XI to about 7.
I also have about six t-shirts, four jumpers (which is way too many!), a big Nike jacket, three trousers (jeans, and two cargo pants adjustable to be shorts or thee-quarters), a pair of shorts, some Johnson and Johnson baby wipes, a large scrolled map of India, and heaps of cables and wires for my PDA, camera and phone.
Thanks to Malaysian Airlines, I have a thin blanket (which always goes between me and the hotel-issue blankets), and a mini pillow. Asteron had a whole bunch of St.John Ambos medical kit which I supplemented with some local pills, which, inshallah, I may not need to use.
So that's the inventory thus far.
By the way this is the dribble I produce when given too much time!
I stayed at Hotel Poonam last night and this morning moved to Hotel Khanhiya, which does NOT have a TV.
I did a bit of shopping and picked up some socks(only wear shoes in India, cos I don't want cracked feet by the time I go back, and that it's easy to step in anything), and some Rupa Frontlines (if you know what I mean), bringing the playing XI to about 7.
I also have about six t-shirts, four jumpers (which is way too many!), a big Nike jacket, three trousers (jeans, and two cargo pants adjustable to be shorts or thee-quarters), a pair of shorts, some Johnson and Johnson baby wipes, a large scrolled map of India, and heaps of cables and wires for my PDA, camera and phone.
Thanks to Malaysian Airlines, I have a thin blanket (which always goes between me and the hotel-issue blankets), and a mini pillow. Asteron had a whole bunch of St.John Ambos medical kit which I supplemented with some local pills, which, inshallah, I may not need to use.
So that's the inventory thus far.
By the way this is the dribble I produce when given too much time!
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