Jan 15, blue Jodhpur and Ranakpur, Rajasthan

Protein depravation has us dreaming about Spicy Masala Cheese omelet and shortly before 10am we go rushing back to the Omelette Shop. The owner barely starts setting up his business and warming the hot plate when we descent like a couple of vultures, stomachs growling in anticipation. We feel like kicking ourselves when, after short rounds in the bazaar, we find the egg stand smothered by a big group of Japanese tourists, all waiting to order. Never before were we so determined to have eggs for breakfast. At last, thirty minutes later, we’re in heaven. A double order spiced with chili and red onion oozes cheese from all sides, permanently depositing aromas in our brains.

 Sebastian inching for a spot

 The Amazing Egg Man. Rumor has it the city wants to relocate his stand - apparently he's blocking the gate. I have a feeling his competition signed a petition.

 It really is THAT good.

Nourished, we walk the Old Town for about an hour to capture some of the Blue City in photos, then head over to Janta Sweet Shop to get our fix for a long drive to Ranakpur. A group of four teenage guys is very eager to help us with the selection of sweets, shoving one another they laugh and joke around amongst themselves behind the counter and Sebastian, unable to  understand a word of what they’re saying, just grins and stands really close beside me. Over the past few days he’s become ultra protective and sensitive about the attention we’re getting from men of all ages, staring them right in the face, blocking viewports with all his might and screening me with his body whenever we pass a group of them on the street.

It mostly seems pointless but makes him fell in control of the surrounding chaos, I guess.  

All really good, kind of spongy, one with edible silver leaf.

entry stoop

Jain Temple in Ranakpur is an amazing structure of intricately carved milky marble transformed into weightless lacework. Apparently the carvers were paid according to the amount of dust collected at the end of the day, making them create ever so detailed relieves.

As the lusciously green mountainous landscape stretches in the valley below we hold our breath, mostly in amazement but sometimes also in gratitude of driving on the inner side of the narrow and steep road, deep gorge to our far right. Views are truly dreamlike…and then a smell of burning rubber brings us back to reality - turns out there’s a leak in our cooling system. [Before our moms reading this get too worried I’d like to say there’s a happy ending to this story]

We stop to add water then drive to the nearest roadside snack stand where another driver stops by to help us out. The owner is really helpful, brings whatever he has that could possibly patch that hole in the cable and his young son wrestles with a huge bucket of water for us. Ignoring Sebastian’s suggestion to cut punctured section of the cable and reconnect what remains, Ajay and his friend simultaneously drink masala chai, smoke Gold Flakes and use our duct tape to secure a plastic bag grabbed from a roadside pile to wrap around the leaking conduit. All very reassuring.

The improvised fix-up lasts for about 3km, then we refill with more water several times until the engine shuts down in the middle of a pitch black road, only the glowing moon and emergency lights illuminating us for other drivers to see. A thought that we could possibly spend the night in the car stranded in the middle of nowhere crosses our mind…and then two young guys come to our rescue. They drive to the nearest restaurant and back to bring us water. Ajay goes with them while Sebastian and I stay in the car. We’re told it’s for our safety, although being inside of a semi-visible vehicle makes us feel anything but. As our heroes go out of their way to escort us to our destination we can’t help but think about how much they’ll want in return. Perhaps it sounds horrible to be doubting their heart of a Samaritan, nevertheless we’re left suspicious of their intentions until we reach Udaipur. We’re exhausted but relieved when 90km and 6 hours after leaving Ranakpur, a drive that should have lasted two hours at most, we finally arrive. Almost ready to jump out of the car and kiss the ground we come to a halt - big smeared poop stares us in the face.

The whole experience wasn’t without a big dose of adrenaline, but it reassured us in one thing - there will always be people, perfect strangers, who will drop everything to help us out whatever way they can. We discovered yet another heartwarming layer of India.

Jan 14, blue Jodhpur, Mehrangarh Fort

Morning call to Muslim prayer wakes us up around six, followed by sounds of Hindi morning worship….followed by very loud crickets and a mooning cow. This was only seven in the morning ;)

At 9 everything was still closed for breakfast except the hotel restaurant. Not the breakfast we hoped for perhaps, because our minds were set on the Omelette Shop, but the prospect of walking to the fort uphill on an empty stomach made us settle for anything.

  Tempting spices lining the walls of a local shop. To tell real saffron from the fake one, take few drops of water and mix it in - real saffron is equally long and just colors the water without falling apart under your fingertip. 

Fresh clover plated for holy cows every morning 

Blue City on the way to the fort

 we're still scratching our heads over this one...

amazing carvings

Now, a moment of traveler’s honesty…

After finding ourselves in so many situations where we were either scammed or lied to, our trust in everyone who seems to be nice and helpful diminished, especially when those offering help or guidance seem to have personal gain strings attached. First couple of days we were both replying to every hello and namaste, now we’ve become two greeting snobs, responding only to those who seem genuine and lack interest in our money. Like all tourists, we draw attention regardless of how unattractive and messy we might be. To some extent it all seems to be a fare exchange of attention - we look at them and vice versa - but there’s always a breaking point when the attention you’re given somehow makes you uncomfortable. There were instances when little boys almost or actually fell off their bikes because they forgot to look at the road ahead or strange men put arms on my shoulder when posing for a photo. The assumption that I’m a WWW [white western woman] therefore less conservative often drives me nuts. The oddity of a light skin color calls for attention and the sooner you accept it, the quicker you’ll get used to it and learn that dismissing it is not signaling your lack of good manners. Also, it may seem impolite to ignore constant “hello” and “where from”, but in fact it’s a perfectly normal strategy of survival and a way to keep your sanity intact. Walking the streets here I often feel like I’m wearing a label on my forehead that says “I like when strange man hassle me”. After the first couple of days all the commotion becomes draining, like the fumes constantly weighting on your lungs. When that happens and it becomes hard to breathe for whatever reason, it’s a good idea to either seek refuge at your hotel rooftop or simply sit down at a café somewhere. Only then the tables turn, more or less, you get to be still for a moment and relax while your surroundings twirl around you.   

Sadly, we grew thicker skin in over a week.

Jan 13, Jaisalmer, Rajasthan

Morning sounds of peacocks going wild in the trees flavors our first masala chai for the day.

 Nearby, a huge tree evenly trimmed by the camels dominates the landscape. Sebastian posing for scale ;)

 After coming back form the safari we wander the streets of the ancient fort, Sebastian gets chased by a holy cow again and we munch on some good thali at the hole in the wall Chandan Shree. 

Jaisalmer is casting a spell on us with its’ people, character, Jain temples and even the sales men who seem to have a really good sense of humor yelling “You wanna spend some money?” and advertising merchandise as “magical”.

Sadhus - spiritual men.

When we get to Jodhpur it’s already evening, but the city still bustles with mind-boggling activity. This is the first night when we have to arrange for accommodations ourselves and the stakes are high, especially because tourist season is going strong, everyone feels your desperation and choices are limited. We end up staying at Hare Krishna Guest House, recommended by our friends, for less than half the price offered at the hotel next door where Ajay originally drops us off. By now we’ve learned to see the room before we agree on the price, even if the outside looks newly renovated and lobby sparkly clean. We’re not disappointed - the room has charms to spare, rooftop view is breathtaking and vegetarian fare delicious. With glowing fort at arms length, Ragastani Thali and Special Kaju Curry, divinely made with cashews, tomato, and potatoes in a smooth garlic paste take us to food heaven. I could marry that curry. 

view from our rooftop...

 Our room on absinthe with some highly appropriate artwork. 

Jan 12, Jaisalmer and the Great Thar Desert

Jaisalmer is a living museum. Overlooking surrounding desert plains, the fort is carved from a golden sandstone, encloses the palace, magnificent havelis [mansions], series of Jain temples and a maze of still inhabited narrow streets lined with shops selling local textiles, embroideries, and everything from leather bound notebooks to beautiful glass lanterns. Colorful facades and winding lanes lure with enchantment, concealing the best and most enriching experience within citadel’s remote corners. It was precisely one of those secret pockets that was home to one very temperamental bull who harmlessly chased Sebastian for several feet. 

Breakfast on the terrace with the view of the fort in the background is unrivaled.

The city was founded and positioned on the camel-train routes between India and Central Asia and camels are definitely the holy grail of the desert in Rajastan. There’s a whole culture revolving around them - they provide skin, fur, milk, and transportation for their owners as well as an iconic attraction and a way of experiencing the Great Thar Desert for hordes of tourists. This time we also couldn’t resist and dropped all pre-conceptions about organized group travel just for this occasion. We were to be taken by Jeep across off-road desert plains, ride the camels to the dunes near Sam village and spend the night under the starry desert sky, sipping masala chai by the bone fire and enjoying the performance of the traditional folk musicians and dancers from Rajasthan. It sounded so perfect we couldn’t resist.

Before we’re even loaded into a Jeep with two other travelers from the Netherlands, I commit a major act of nonchalance and step ankle deep into the open street sewer. Just what the doctor ordered. [If there was one major warning our doctor beat into us before we left Chicago was to never wander in standing water anywhere in India or Asia]. Paralyzed with fear and visions of my foot falling off and/or contracting a major case of a bacteria that leaves you with arthritis for life, I shook off the access, entire shoe and laces glued with few inches of racy feces, then poured water over it to wash as much of it as possible. When my sock soaked through, I finally stepped out of the tainted shoe. We put it out to dry in the sun, hoping UV would kill the smell and cosmos of germs. I was off to the camel adventure in sandals, slightly shaken but happy as a cricket.   

Balancing act payed off. I was told I failed as a hair stylist that day.

The bumpy and hectic ride through the desert zipped pass camels grazing in the bushy plains forcing us to swivel around them as they lazily wandered onto the road. As we later learn, they show a lot of personality and no two are alike. Mine, quoted as an “easy rider”, constantly went astray from the path when something to the side caught her attention and had some real issues with slowing the pace and sitting to rest. To calm her down our guide talked sweet words to her which worked magic. To Sebastian’s enjoyment, riding in front of him she also farted constantly and nearly kicked him in the shins several times, his one foot always inches away from her behind. She’s was one feisty lady regardless of her peaceful gaze and charming looks. In return, Sebastian’s camel wiped his nose in my pants. Overall, it was an easy ride, with saddles nicely padded and camels riding gently following their master‘s calling - although Sebastian wouldn’t entirely agree with me on the level of comfort.

Dunes and desert plains bathed in sunset light stretch to infinity on all sides, no other embellishments are required. Even talking seems superfluous. The soul of the region goes to sleep here long after tourist caravans disappear for the night. Shamefully, many of them move on to the next hot spot leaving their trash behind.

These are the moments of deep silence that make you feel interconnection of these men with their land and animals. Wisdom in his gaze, every wrinkle witness to life’s journey.

His presence alone truly solidifies this experience for us. Kishanaram doesn’t speak any English but little of Hindi we know allows to exchange our names and, mixed with hand gestures, clues us into making a stirring tool from wood sticks. Originally we thought he was trying to start a bone fire.

Exchange of goods - one hand rolled of desert mixture for one LM.  We agree to send copies of the photos to the hotel upon our return.

 Folklore night in Rajastan with rhythms going straight into your heart. Most of the musicians are from the nearby village, some come from the greater area just for the tourist season. Gypsy dancers were fifteen at most.

  

We spend the night under the stars. Cold air brushed our faces, but we stayed warm throughout the night snuggly wrapped in our sleeping bags .