India: Bus to Nawalgarh

After five days in Jaipur, one where we were too indisposed to do very much (I think it was the fried peanuts), we are on the road again. Our first plan - to take the overnight train to the lakeside resort of Udaipur - was thwarted by our inability to book a sleeper. Many of the trains have only a limited number of reservations for foreigners and we had obviously chosen a popular departure date. We had three options: go to the station and hope to be able to negotiate a berth; opt for sitting up all night; or go somewhere else. The beauty of having no hotel reservations to honour came into play here. We abandoned the train heading south to Udaipur and boarded a bus heading north to Nawalgarh, a three-hour journey.

We've become accustomed to travelling through the Rajasthan landscape by now. Through rattling windows we've watched a succession of wheatfields and small, dusty towns pass by. In and between them there are buildings half-finished or already crumbling, piles of rubbish, the circular, thatched huts of farm workers. The herds of goats or sheep, even camels no longer make us sit up and nudge each other.



We're pleased to arrive in Nawalgarh - at first sight just another small, dusty town, but this one with many treasures which we are yet to discover.

India: Jaipur - Jantar Mantar

On our last day in Jaipur, we finally made it to the Jantar Mantar, the astronomical observatory established by Jai Singh II. Here, within a spacious courtyard are a number of large structures, each with a specific role whether it be measuring the angle of the sun, observing the course of planets or locating major constellations.

This amazing edifice is listed in the Guinness Book of Records as the largest sundial in the world:



Other structures, like the set of stairs to nowhere, observed the movement of stars, planets and the constellations representing the zodiac.Our guide explained that astrology still plays a significant part in Indian life and these instruments are still consulted to determine how auspicious the birth of a baby may be.

India: Sanganer

Sanganer, a short distance from Jaipur, is a town famous for its fabric dying and printing. We told the driver of our auto-rickshaw that we wanted to see the places where this work took place. He didn't seem to know, but made a call on his phone and when we reached there, another man jumped in beside him and directed us to a large sandy area where printed tablecloths, spread out on the ground, were drying in the sun. Camel carts, loaded with multi-coloured rags, trundled among the fabrics and barefoot children frisked over them...





...while their mothers spread out the finished cloths, folded them and cut them into lengths.





We were shown the vats where cloth was first bleached to a uniform whiteness,



...then wound onto huge rollers and immersed in dye.



In a dark room at long tables, men were printing the coloured cloth with intricate designs. We watched as an indigo cloth, many metres long, was overprinted in red and then in gold for future saris.









All around us on high wooden poles, banners of brilliant fabrics wafted in the breeze.


Before returning to Jaipur we visited a family business where we were served chai tea, and admired the many bolts of fabric as well as the owners' collection of antique printing blocks. I bought a couple of dupattas (the shawls worn over saris) dyed and printed in the traditional madder and indigo. As we were leaving, the owner pressed a small wooden printing block into my hand. I may now have to make my own handprinted handkerchiefs with this little elephant motif.

India: Amber Fort

One of the most spectacular sights in India, just outside Jaipur, is the Amber Fort. Former palace of the maharajas, it was abandoned by Jai Singh II when its water sources dried up and he began to build his fine new vision at Jaipur.
We have hired an auto-rickshaw to take us the 11 km. there and back. Ravik, the driver, speaks good English and takes us first on a winding route through back alleys of Jaipur. "You have seen the pink city," he says, "Now I will show you the "pig city." Sure enough, pigs are everywhere. These are not pretty little pink porkers like Babe, but large, hairy boars that, according to Ravik, are food for a very low caste of Hindus. Muslims too, we suspect. As elsewhere, goats also abound.




Along the road to Amber, we pass elephants and camels decked out for tourist rides.




When Amber Fort comes into view, sprawled on its hilltop, the sheer size of its golden sandstone walls and cupolas is breath-taking. Only a panoramic viewfinder, which we don't have, could do the scene justice.






At the base of the hill, we hire an elephant for the steep climb up to the gate. This is a controversial move, as there are concerns about the welfare of these animals and the lack of facilities to provide them with water, veterinary care, etc.



Our reasoning is that, with the money we pay, the owners have a strong interest in keeping their charges in good health. There is also an organisation which works for better facilities for the elephants, but when we go later to make a contribution their office is closed! We do, however, get a good look at the elephant house and are pleased to see food, water and shade provided there.

As it turns out, the ride is not that pleasant. It is slow, there is no canopy above our heads so it's hot, and we are seated sideways on a wide cushion that means my short legs stick straight out. We do, however, get a good view down onto the terraced gardens below, once surrounded by water but now by a dry gulch.



When we reach the fort, Michael finds a convenient terrace to paint the view, soon accompanied by onlookers. His impressions, verbal and visual, are on his website.

He takes time out to oblige an Indian family who want a group portrait.



Meanwhile I wander in the vicinity, admiring the decorated portals,



and a lone drum,




and observing activity in the vast courtyard where several of the cupolas that crown the walls are being repaired.



After descending from the fort under our own steam, we head for the Anokhi textile museum, recommended to us by Val and Sue, whom we met in Delhi. Housed in a restored old haveli (mansion), it has a warren of rooms displaying fabrics from different time periods and for different occasions. They do not permit photographs, which is a pity as both building and costumes are beautiful. We do, however, manage to take a photo of the Amber fort from their windows.



Anokhi employs young women from poor villages in the district and teaches them the ancient arts of block-printing fabric, but they are not on view to visitors. Instead, a man demonstrates the process to us. Michael attempts a sample which we can take away with us.

In their small gift shop, I look for a modest purchase to contribute to their enterprise and find a handprinted handkerchief.

It's been a hot day, and tiring, so we are glad to trundle back to our hotel for beer, lime soda and fried peanuts in our cool, quiet room.

India: Jaipur - Royal Palace

The main gate to the Royal Palace is just around the corner from the Hawa Mahal, but only the maharajah may enter through it. We lesser mortals must detour through an alley and along a dusty road to a servants' gate at the back.
By the time we arrived, it was at two in the afternoon and we were feeling hungry, so began by having a snack in the pleasant courtyard cafe, watched by monkeys on the roof above.



Having already seen the impressive palace at Fatehpur Sikri, we were drawn less to the buildings themselves than to some of the details, such as this huge beaten-silver jar (which incidentally gave us an opportunity for an unusual mirror shot.) The Maharajah of Jaipur had two of these jars made to carry holy water from the Ganges for his daily bath during his visit to England for the coronation of Edward VII in 1901.



In a deserted courtyard, we came across four exquisite doors representing the seasons. The monsoon door, by which we entered, had a design of peacocks:



The summer door had lotus flowers:



The winter door (obviously preferred by the pigeons) had roses :



And the spring door, the best of all, was sculpted in to green ripples:



- simple and lovely.

India: Jaipur - the Hawa Mahal

Jaipur's most photographed building is its Hawa Mahal, or Palace of the Winds. This pink meringue is little more than a facade, just wide enough for a narrow passageway allowing the women in purdah to look down on the activity of the streets through the many carved jalis (fretwork screens)without being seen.

Now both Indians and foreigners traverse the passages, photographing each other in the elegant archways...



...or crouching to gaze out into the bright sunlight.



There are fine views over the old city from this vantage point:



In the opposite direction, beyond the courtyards that fill the space behind the facade, looms the staircase-like structure that is the largest sundial in the world, the centrepiece of Jaipur's remarkable collection of early eighteenth-century astronomical instruments known as Jantar Mantar.



Before leaving Jaipur, we will visit Jantar Mantar for a closer look at its wonders.

India: Jaipur - The Pink City

One of the world's first planned cities, Jaipur was laid out beginning in 1727 by the ahead-of-his-time ruler Jai Singh II on a geometric grid. In 1853, when the Prince of Wales visited the city, all the buildings within the old city walls were painted pink as a welcoming gesture, and this tradition has continued ever since. It's not cotton-candy pink like our hotel, but a mellow rose-red which is very attractive.

Today, most of the heavy traffic is confined to broad streets entering through gates in the old wall. Crowding the traffic towards the centre of these roads are produce merchants with their wares spread out along the verges.






The remaining streets are narrow and house a number of bazaars, each specialising in particular merchandise. Although off limits to cars, they are awash with a medley of motorbikes, tuktuks, camel carts and an occasional white horse in jewelled trappings with a proud rider sitting very straight in the saddle.



Shops line the sides of the streets, bright with saris, blankets, shawls, bedspreads and rows of glittering bangles. Salesmen greet us as we pass: "Pashmina, madam?" "Only look!" "Come inside, just looking only!" We were amused to see several shops displaying their wares on vintage, very blonde mannequins




We step around small children cavorting on the high but narrow walkways outside these shops, over squashed fruit or dribbles of unidentifiable liquid, tin pots, cardboard boxes, old men in dhotis with shoeshine equipment, piles of men's shirts in cellophane wrapping, banks of multi-coloured fabrics.

While most of the activity happens at street level, the upper storeys reveal glimpses of more leisurely, often more domestic pursuits.