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Fatehpur Sikri was our next stop. This was the capital of the mogul empire for fifteen years and it was built by Emperor Akbar who ruled from 1556 to 1605. The story goes that the Emperor wanted a son and came across a woman in a small village who told him his future. "You will have a son for your next child." The Emperor's next born was a son and he decided to build a huge palace near this small village, so he could be closer to this wise old women. It turns out the chosen location for the palace was a lousy place for a palace. Fifteen years after the completion of the palace it was abandon because of the lack of water. It was not rediscovered until the 19th century and it is still in very good shape.
We had the place to ourselves, and the guides had us to themselves. We kept telling them no and to just leave us alone. We wanted to walk around a mysterious place without the effort of trying to translate what our guide was explaining. It was hot and somehow we managed to get inside without a guide want-a-be following us around. We walked around the ghost palace reading the English explanations posted on sign boards. We took pictures and had our pictures taken by the Indian tourists. We met a very nice family, who's father was a teacher in a small village. He was fascinated by Scooter and hung on his every word. Just for fun, Scooter asked him if he had ever heard of the Internet and he had not. Scooter wrote it down on a piece of paper and told the teacher that he should go to a library in one of the larger cities and look it up. We gave him our travel card with our e-mail address. It will be interesting to see if he is ever able to send us an e-mail. The next stop in the palace area was a large religious complex. Buland Darwaza also built by the Emperor AkBar. The complex contains a Jama Masjid (Mosque), mausoleum of St. Salim. Cool spot and amazing history.
We jumped back in the van for a waiting Mr. Singh and began another four hour journey to Jaipur, Rajasthan. We settled in to reading and staring out the window. Small towns with mud and grass huts, acres of rice farming , and carts drawn by camels and ox. We saw elephants and many cows living a life of leisure in the chaos of the streets. Rajasthan is a colorful place and also India's poorest area. The drive was interesting and it was better to drive the back roads than taking the train or flying. That was of course until we stopped for a break at a roadside restaurant palace. The poor old van, who had worked hard all day did not want to start. Mr. Singh had the seats up in a couple of minutes and began looking for the problem. It turned out to be a bad fuel pump and Mr. Singh enjoyed a couple mouths full of gas trying to suck out any clogs. Luckily, a tourist bus had also stopped for a break. It was full of a private group of theater students from New York. We had seen them earlier in the day in Agra and they were on their way to Jaipur. The decision was made to leave Mr. Singh and catch a ride with the student bus. We would meet up with Mr. Singh that night or the following morning.
At 10:00 PM the bus stopped in Jaipur, as I knew it would, in the middle of a busy street and someone motioned for us to get out. They pointed down the street, I assume in the direction of our hotel and our bags were unloaded to a bicycle rickshaw. We tipped the bus driver 100 Rs and he did not think it was enough and demanded more. We told him that was it and he gave the money back to us in disgust. We told him, "Take it or leave it and we thanked him for doing a nice thing by dropping us in the middle of town." I was shouting because again it was late and I was tired but I felt they did a nice thing by giving us a ride and if they wanted money they should of told us before we got on the bus. They yelled, we yelled, they took the 100 Rs and went on their way. I hate these scenes but in India, I can not help standing up for myself.
About two blocks away was the Rajasthan Palace, where Mr. Singh directed us. Apparently we secured the last available room at the place that was a palace only by name. The area had at least three or four weddings going on and in the Indian culture weddings are a big party. The town was alive with color and music, couples were being married everywhere. In India, after your mother arranges your marriage, you consult with an astrologer for the best possible wedding date. June 18th was very popular. The hotel room was fine and the price was good but I was not in a very good mood. Scooter had enough and scolded me about my behavior to others and said he was going out to have a beer by himself. I got over it and we went out to the hotel garden and a couple of beers. Mr. Singh showed up an hour or so after we did, apparently he was able to replace the fuel pump. We knew Mr. Singh must of been tired because we were exhausted. Tomorrow we would start at 9:30 heading for the Garland Forts and specifically, Amber palace.
Amber palace was constructed in 1592 by Raja Man Singh (No relation to Mr. Singh). It is a high fort/ palace designed for defense but it also has a beautiful Indian/Islamic architecture. We take an elephant ride to the top of the fort along a very high ridge, because Mr. Singh wanted us to. We would of been happy to walk up but it is work for the elephants and it insures they will get fed. Amber palace is a majestic structure - enormous, everywhere you look on the surrounding hilltops are walls, forts and gates. The world's largest cannon is also located here, it can shoot 60 kilometers! Somehow we managed to enter the fort without a guide and spent more than an hour wandering around and getting lost in it's complex hallways and courtyards. We skipped the elephant ride back down to the bottom and since we knew we were riding an elephant today we brought a bunch of bananas. Our elephant ate the hole bunch in one swallow and then asked for more.
We were getting hungry and we wanted to stay clear of remote Indian food. Scooter had been in India less than 24 hours and he had a case of the stuff you never want to get when you travel. We asked Mr. Singh to take us to the Rambaugh Palace a five star Taj resort. We had some communication problems because Mr. Singh took us to the Rainbow Room which if you think about it, it does sound like Rambaugh. After further explanation Mr. Singh tells us that the Rambaugh Palace is expensive but we know it will have air, the food will be good and it will only cost a few extra dollars. We invite Mr. Singh to join us but he informs us that he is not allowed to go inside. The cast system is still very much a part of everyday life in India. The palace is air-conditioned and that was our main goal with it being 105 degrees outside. The atmosphere was exotic and deserted in the off-season. Lunch is very rich, as in, why do they have to use 49 spices in a sandwich? Indian food is filled with sauces, butter and spices.
There are more overweight people in India than we have seen elsewhere in Asia. It turns out to be a sign of wealth if your wife is fat. The women who are covered from head to toe with beautifully colored outfits take great pride in showing off the rolls of fat on the side of their stomach. Yet if we show a knee it is considered offensive. I will pick the sight of a knee over five rolls of stomach fat every time. Scooter and I both make liberal use of the five star toilets, what a simple pleasure to have a sit down toilet and toilet paper with the first sheet folded on both corners.
We wanted to hang out all day but we had a city to tour. The city palace is the next stop and it is literally in the middle of the hustle and bustle of the city. Jaipur is the capital of Rajasthan and was created by Maharaja Sawai Jai Singh II. When Jai was ready to settle down he built a nice big walled city for himself and his harem of 2000 woman. In 1853 the city painted itself pink in honor of a visit from Prince Albert of England. The city is still pink and the city palace has been open to the public since 1950. It serves as a museum and government offices. Inside the palace is a large courtyard, textile museum, arms and weapons museum, hall of private audience, art museum and the Hawa Mahal (Palace of the winds). The museums were not that good but if you are in Jaipur you might as well go see it.
Scooter's favorite site is just outside the main palace and the reason we came to Jaipur. Jantar Mantar is a massive astronomical observatory built by Jai Singh in 1732. He was fascinated with science and had the best team of astronomers and scientist build a giant working laboratory. The highlight is the six story tall sun dial that is accurate to two seconds. We climbed around the place for an hour not knowing what half the stuff was for but the park is well maintained and worth a visit.
The next plan of the day was to go and see a movie at 2:30 PM and we could tell Mr. Singh was excited. The movie was not on the ordinary travel schedule. Movies are a national pastime in India and Bombay or Bollywood produces more feature length films than anybody in the world. Our "Let's Go" guidebook suggested experiencing a Hindi movie at the world famous Raj Mandir Cinema. We were a little dubious of this claim because how could a town that for the most part was very run down, have a world class modern theater. It didn't make sense but that was part of the reason we wanted to go. The guidebook suggested getting their early because every movie sells out. We bought the last three tickets in the Diamond box for less than $1.00 each. The theater was nicer than any movie theater we had ever seen. It was not modern but had the classical big theater look with sweeping staircases on both sides and a large lobby that could handle the intermission of 1,000 people. The theater only had one screen compared with the mega theaters of America. If you are only going to have one screen you might as well do it write and the Raj Mandir Cinema would hold its own with the best performing arts theaters on Broadway.
The movie was in Hindi with no subtitles but it was still a very enjoyable experience worth repeating. The Hindu religion has prevented the on-screen kiss from making its way into a movie script. Almost every movie is based on the boy meets girl theme. They have trouble, combined with a great deal of singing that helps bring them back together, and the constant suggestion that a kiss was immanent. The audience would wait in anticipation and just before the kiss would land the girl would turn her cheek and bust into a song. The day a Hindi film has an on-screen kiss you will hear about it because 900 million Indians will be lined up to see the film.
The rest of the afternoon was spent doing mandatory shopping. It appears that us going to the movie was not on the travel agents schedule and we had fallen behind. Even though it was our schedule, Mr. Singh informed us he had to take us to the fabric and carpet place. We told him that we would do it to keep him out of trouble. It turns out the fabric place was pretty good and I ended up buying some place mats and matching napkins. We got off easy on our carpet store visit because cricket was on television and India was playing Sir Lanka. The store owner let us go without any pressure to buy a rug so he could get back to the nail biting action of cricket. Cricket and baseball offer the same level of "sit on the end of your seat excitement" except a cricket match lasts three days.
About two hours before our train was to depart Mr. Singh decides to hand us our tickets. He claims that they were dropped off by a messenger while we stepped into a restaurant for five minutes! This of course was lubricious because we were a two day drive from Delhi and our suspicion was that Mr. Singh had them the entire time but was told not to give them to us. This is the culmination of our suspicions that we were being ripped off somehow. We take our tickets not knowing what to look for and request Mr. Singh to take us to the train station so we could drop off our bags, then one last ride to a Pizza Hut. Scooter could not bring himself to eat at the restaurant Mr. Singh took us to because they were cooking food in the hallway and on the sidewalk. He had been making frequent unpleasant trips to the bathroom the last couple of days and we still had a 12 hour train ride ahead of us.
Pizza Hut once again provided a good familiar meal - not to mention sanitary with clean bathrooms. We ate in a hurry and caught a trishaw to the train station. The train station is what we expected busy, very dirty with people laying on the floor waiting on their train. Our track is number 6 and about a 1/4 mile walk. At the track we meet two girls from Sweden and a guy from Germany heading to Udiapur. They were the only foreigners we had seen since being in India. While I chat with the westerners about the trial and tribulations of travel in India, Scooter is guarding the bags and talking with an Indian couple about education.
The train to Udaipur arrives exactly one hour late - no problem we are supposed to be in first class air-conditioned. However, as Scooter and I are looking at our tickets we realize that what we paid for and what we got were not the same. The ticket said First Class but apparently that entitles you to a room without air-conditioning at a price that was 20 percent of what we paid. It turns out that most trains in India do not even have First Class with air-conditioning and the best you can hope for is Second Class air-conditioning. When the train pulled up chaos ensued, everyone was running from car to car looking for the cabin that was indicated on their ticket. Of course it was impossible to match your ticket number with the car because the car had no markings. You then had to look at a computer print out taped to the side of each car. The girls from Sweden were on our car and we finally made our way into our compartment after much ado. The narrow passages were definitely not built with backpacks in mind. We did luck out and got a double instead of the normal four persons to a room. The Swedish girls had an entire family of six in their cabin!
The unlucky part was that is was filthy and ancient. I was trying hard to be a good sport but I was in shock - this was First Class and nothing about where I was standing resembled anything that could be referred to as First Class. It was so incredible I could just laugh and tried to wipe down the bunks with our newly purchased toilet paper. The open windows, of course were covered with prison bars, which ensured that a there would not be a shortage of dirt through out the night. We shut the door, settled in and for the first time in my life I knew what it might be like in prison. Playing solitaire would be my escape because I knew I would not be able to sleep for the next 12 hours. Poor Scooter had it worse than me because his stomach disorders forced him to visit the toilet every couple of hours. It was described as being a hole in the floor, I didn't care to find out. I have an amazing ability to hold it when the conditions are not satisfactory. I didn't use the bathroom a lot in India.
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| This page last changed on 22-May-2006 20:29:31 EDT by 70.171.24.221. |
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