July 18
Down to the depot again this morning to secure my Agra-Delhi ticket, should've done this earlier, now I've got a wait-list ticket but with a position close enough, in all probability I'll be on that train, just without a seat. Otherwise, I'll have to take a bus back.
For my last day in Jodhpur I went up to the Fort again, and this time I paid for admission, saw the museum and a palace interior. There's a couple lavishly decorated rooms with mosaic windows of tinted glass, but one could only be viewed through a window, while the other (The Palace of Flowers, or Phool Mahal) visitors can enter, but only at the boring end -- a rope restricts access. Understandable, I suppose, otherwise people would be poking out the little disks of colored glass.
Last night, up on the rooftop terrace, I was cornered by a young English guy I've been avoiding. On and on he droned, reciting an unrequested history of Pakistan. Our conversation wasn't entirely worthless, but gawd what a bore. At one point he was praising some guru named Osho who I should've recognized, we remember him by his mid-80s handle, Bhagwan Rajneesh (you remember, the Pacific NW commune, his collection of Rolls-Royces). His fan claimed his books are banned in the US but I had to correct him on that score, books aren't banned, but some just don't published. Fortunately this guy left this morning, but last night was joined by another new arrival, a South African English teacher who works in Taiwan. Normally I'd be interested in this colleague's stories, but there's something creepy about him, and I only want to put space between us. So, finally fed up, I just stood without comment and walked away, returning to the refuge of my hotel room.
Speaking of hotels, the two tallest are in the news. First, an interior slide-show of the Burj-al-Arab in Dubai. And second,
work has resumed on the one in Pyeonyang, North Korea. Hotel of Doom? Across from the Jodhpur train station sits the Hotel Dhoom.
No update tomorrow; I'll be on a train all day long.
Friday, July 18, 2008
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Two Shirts Purchase
July 17
Bid farewell to Billy this morning, he's off to Kashmir. No real plans for today, except buying a shirt. Ended up getting two, overpriced, no doubt, but I'm terrible at haggling. Then bought a few of the little donut-looking things they fry in big woks, like samosas; sat for a while to eat them under a tree, watching the never-ending parade: pedestrians, bicycles, motorcycles and scooters, tuk-tuks (some in school-bus mode, marked by all the book-bags hanging from the outside hooks, under the rear window) plus the occasional cow ambling by.
Then up to the lower reaches of the fort, to our "secret" garden, where I relaxed, listening to the many birds there, some of which sound like a child's squeaky-toy.
Bid farewell to Billy this morning, he's off to Kashmir. No real plans for today, except buying a shirt. Ended up getting two, overpriced, no doubt, but I'm terrible at haggling. Then bought a few of the little donut-looking things they fry in big woks, like samosas; sat for a while to eat them under a tree, watching the never-ending parade: pedestrians, bicycles, motorcycles and scooters, tuk-tuks (some in school-bus mode, marked by all the book-bags hanging from the outside hooks, under the rear window) plus the occasional cow ambling by.
Then up to the lower reaches of the fort, to our "secret" garden, where I relaxed, listening to the many birds there, some of which sound like a child's squeaky-toy.
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
Planning final India week (plus "The Fall")
July 16
Strolled down to the new town center twice today. First, late morning, with Billy to scope out a book store he'd spotted. Incredibly cramped, stacks of books on the floor rising to obscure shelves with multiple layers of volumes, but we each found one to take away. As we kept encountering copies of Conrad's Lord Jim Billy took that as a sign, so that was his choice; for me, Far From the Madding Crowd by Thomas Hardy. Second, late afternoon , after a nap and just after the power went out. I'd chosen Saturday as optimum for travel to Agra, so requested this all-day ticket down at the Computerized Reservation Office, and got it. Therefore, Sunday will be the Taj and maybe Fatephur Sikri; Monday or Tuesday, return to Delhi with departure Wednesday morning.
The last movie I saw before leaving the States was "The Fall" which (among other locations) had scenes I knew to be filmed in Jodhpur. Up at the Fort yesterday, I recognized another place, or a smaller version thereof, and in the gift-shop I learned what it's called: a stepwell. Roger Ebert's review of the film doesn't identify that location, but that Wikipedia link does, and by all means check the review -- scroll down to see director Tarsem leaning up against a wall which could be at my hotel -- I'll have its view of the Fort for a couple more days. And do see the movie, if possible -- Ebert: "One of the most astonishing films I have ever seen."
Strolled down to the new town center twice today. First, late morning, with Billy to scope out a book store he'd spotted. Incredibly cramped, stacks of books on the floor rising to obscure shelves with multiple layers of volumes, but we each found one to take away. As we kept encountering copies of Conrad's Lord Jim Billy took that as a sign, so that was his choice; for me, Far From the Madding Crowd by Thomas Hardy. Second, late afternoon , after a nap and just after the power went out. I'd chosen Saturday as optimum for travel to Agra, so requested this all-day ticket down at the Computerized Reservation Office, and got it. Therefore, Sunday will be the Taj and maybe Fatephur Sikri; Monday or Tuesday, return to Delhi with departure Wednesday morning.
The last movie I saw before leaving the States was "The Fall" which (among other locations) had scenes I knew to be filmed in Jodhpur. Up at the Fort yesterday, I recognized another place, or a smaller version thereof, and in the gift-shop I learned what it's called: a stepwell. Roger Ebert's review of the film doesn't identify that location, but that Wikipedia link does, and by all means check the review -- scroll down to see director Tarsem leaning up against a wall which could be at my hotel -- I'll have its view of the Fort for a couple more days. And do see the movie, if possible -- Ebert: "One of the most astonishing films I have ever seen."
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Up to the Fort 2
July 15
At breakfast on the rooftop terrace, sitting with the student mentioned yesterday, we were joined by a woman from the Netherlands, and all three of us walked up to the Fort. His name Billy, her name Pia, we hung out on the ramparts but didn't pay the necessary fee for entry into the various museums and palaces up there (although I did get into the gift shop to buy the requisite postcards). Afterwards, we walked down into town for lunch but never did find anything suitable, only drinks; during which we were joined by another guest at the hotel, a British girl named Alex. After a time, I split off from them and eventually found my way back to the hotel. Its internet connection is working now, I can update here, but it's not 100% -- for some reason, can't connect with my email.
At breakfast on the rooftop terrace, sitting with the student mentioned yesterday, we were joined by a woman from the Netherlands, and all three of us walked up to the Fort. His name Billy, her name Pia, we hung out on the ramparts but didn't pay the necessary fee for entry into the various museums and palaces up there (although I did get into the gift shop to buy the requisite postcards). Afterwards, we walked down into town for lunch but never did find anything suitable, only drinks; during which we were joined by another guest at the hotel, a British girl named Alex. After a time, I split off from them and eventually found my way back to the hotel. Its internet connection is working now, I can update here, but it's not 100% -- for some reason, can't connect with my email.
Monday, July 14, 2008
Up to the Fort 1
July 14
Jodhpur is dominated by a huge mound of sandstone upon which stands the Mehrangarh Fort, built about 3.5 centuries ago, and characterized by one guidebook as bing like a huge alien spacecraft perched over the town. This morning I walked up to the base but that's as far as I got, moving around the areas just below where one must pay for entry. Initially I was feeling extremely nauseated up there and almost retched but didn't lose it (see below for why). Mostly I just enjoyed the views from on high, and the balmy breezes up there, realizing I'd return another day to explore the wonders within.
While hanging around up there I realized my little discussion about bricks pertained to modern India -- in the past, buildings here were constructed with blocks of sandstone. Gazing at this structure one can't help but feel amazed -- what an incredible feat of construction, like the pyramids of Egypt.
I now have a collection of mosquito bites, clustered on my left knee. This of course gives me pause: are they malarious? Shouldn't be a problem as I'm faithfully swallowing a turquoise capsule of anti-malaria medicine every morning, but it seems if I take this on an empty stomach just with some water, I have a short period of terrible nausea thereafter (pretty sure that's what happened to me in Rishikesh.) So I'll be taking it with some breakfast or brunch from now on.
Last night on the rooftop terrace, an extroverted young man insisted on joining me for dinner and as it turned out, we had a great conversation about books and India. He's been in-country for many weeks now, doing a big circle beginning and ending in Mumbai, and like the trio I met in Cappadochia, he also attends James Madison University, studying Indian Islamic history, and his current read is Catch-22.
Jodhpur is dominated by a huge mound of sandstone upon which stands the Mehrangarh Fort, built about 3.5 centuries ago, and characterized by one guidebook as bing like a huge alien spacecraft perched over the town. This morning I walked up to the base but that's as far as I got, moving around the areas just below where one must pay for entry. Initially I was feeling extremely nauseated up there and almost retched but didn't lose it (see below for why). Mostly I just enjoyed the views from on high, and the balmy breezes up there, realizing I'd return another day to explore the wonders within.
While hanging around up there I realized my little discussion about bricks pertained to modern India -- in the past, buildings here were constructed with blocks of sandstone. Gazing at this structure one can't help but feel amazed -- what an incredible feat of construction, like the pyramids of Egypt.
I now have a collection of mosquito bites, clustered on my left knee. This of course gives me pause: are they malarious? Shouldn't be a problem as I'm faithfully swallowing a turquoise capsule of anti-malaria medicine every morning, but it seems if I take this on an empty stomach just with some water, I have a short period of terrible nausea thereafter (pretty sure that's what happened to me in Rishikesh.) So I'll be taking it with some breakfast or brunch from now on.
Last night on the rooftop terrace, an extroverted young man insisted on joining me for dinner and as it turned out, we had a great conversation about books and India. He's been in-country for many weeks now, doing a big circle beginning and ending in Mumbai, and like the trio I met in Cappadochia, he also attends James Madison University, studying Indian Islamic history, and his current read is Catch-22.
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Wandering through Jodhpur
July 13
Walked down into the frenetic hub-bub of the central city this morning, just outside the Sojati Gate of the old city's wall, and since I've decided to stay put for a while, canceled my return ticket for tomorrow evening, at the train station.
Then, I surrendered to India: a kid named Anjun came up with some of the usual questions, which I answered, then moved on. I need a new shirt, so when I found myself in a street of very colorful fabric shops, I inquired and was sent to place along the way selling ready-mades. They found one meeting my requirements, but it wasn't large enough for comfort, so I moved on. Anjun found me again and led me to one of the tiny shops which sell a few things, including freshly-squeezed sugar cane juice and OJ as well as bottled drinks from a little icebox, where I got a Limca, the soda so common here which I've grown rather fond of, drinking it from the usual well-worn returnable glass bottle. Anjun, who's in the VIIIth grade (that's how they're marked here, with Roman numerals) acquired a postage-stamp-sized "sex picture" from the shopkeeper which depicted the elephant-god Ganeesh with his trunk up inside a happy naked woman -- another kid had joined us by then, much smiling all around. Then we moved on. First we looked in on a kite shop, where the small square kites like I saw flying yesterday are manufactured. Then he took me to a spice shop where four Scottish girls were receiving a lesson involving a mortar and pestle. That shopkeeper, after welcoming me in with a small glass of the milky-sweet Indian chai, proceeded to push a series of opened-top quarter-kilo baggies of interesting-smelling mixtures under my nose. I liked the first one best -- it contained cinnamon, cardamom, ginger & etc, and was specifically for chai. Finally we arrived at the Umaid Heritage Art School, where Anjun's a student, painting exquisitely detailed miniatures. This proprietor, his teacher, also served me a glass of chai and had me read a satisfied letter recently received from an American customer, showing snapshots of the pictures he'd bought there now hanging on his living-room wall, along with one of Anjun and himself. In an ironic coincidence, this man lives in Los Gatos, one of the neighboring communities of Santa Clara County, my home these past eleven years. I eventually escaped but then got sucked in to a very large fabric shop where the proprietor showed me a photo album with snapshots of "his friend" Bill Murray, who'd once paid a visit. (Bill always looks older, in real life.) He said Mick Jaggar had also been there recently, but had no evidence.
Now I'm in a guest-house quite close to my own, which (unlike the Cosy) has an operational internet connection. After returning to my room, I'll repair to one of the rooftop terraces, looking out over the Blue City with the Mehrangarh Fort up on the huge hill in the middle distance -- and if it's like yesterday, the kids will take advantage of the balmy early-evening breezes with more kite-flying. I'll eventually have some dinner at the rooftop restaurant -- like breakfast this morning, so much easier than finding something in town. Also, after consultation with a couple guests from Denmark, I recharged my cell phone without incident, and have resumed photography.
Walked down into the frenetic hub-bub of the central city this morning, just outside the Sojati Gate of the old city's wall, and since I've decided to stay put for a while, canceled my return ticket for tomorrow evening, at the train station.
Then, I surrendered to India: a kid named Anjun came up with some of the usual questions, which I answered, then moved on. I need a new shirt, so when I found myself in a street of very colorful fabric shops, I inquired and was sent to place along the way selling ready-mades. They found one meeting my requirements, but it wasn't large enough for comfort, so I moved on. Anjun found me again and led me to one of the tiny shops which sell a few things, including freshly-squeezed sugar cane juice and OJ as well as bottled drinks from a little icebox, where I got a Limca, the soda so common here which I've grown rather fond of, drinking it from the usual well-worn returnable glass bottle. Anjun, who's in the VIIIth grade (that's how they're marked here, with Roman numerals) acquired a postage-stamp-sized "sex picture" from the shopkeeper which depicted the elephant-god Ganeesh with his trunk up inside a happy naked woman -- another kid had joined us by then, much smiling all around. Then we moved on. First we looked in on a kite shop, where the small square kites like I saw flying yesterday are manufactured. Then he took me to a spice shop where four Scottish girls were receiving a lesson involving a mortar and pestle. That shopkeeper, after welcoming me in with a small glass of the milky-sweet Indian chai, proceeded to push a series of opened-top quarter-kilo baggies of interesting-smelling mixtures under my nose. I liked the first one best -- it contained cinnamon, cardamom, ginger & etc, and was specifically for chai. Finally we arrived at the Umaid Heritage Art School, where Anjun's a student, painting exquisitely detailed miniatures. This proprietor, his teacher, also served me a glass of chai and had me read a satisfied letter recently received from an American customer, showing snapshots of the pictures he'd bought there now hanging on his living-room wall, along with one of Anjun and himself. In an ironic coincidence, this man lives in Los Gatos, one of the neighboring communities of Santa Clara County, my home these past eleven years. I eventually escaped but then got sucked in to a very large fabric shop where the proprietor showed me a photo album with snapshots of "his friend" Bill Murray, who'd once paid a visit. (Bill always looks older, in real life.) He said Mick Jaggar had also been there recently, but had no evidence.
Now I'm in a guest-house quite close to my own, which (unlike the Cosy) has an operational internet connection. After returning to my room, I'll repair to one of the rooftop terraces, looking out over the Blue City with the Mehrangarh Fort up on the huge hill in the middle distance -- and if it's like yesterday, the kids will take advantage of the balmy early-evening breezes with more kite-flying. I'll eventually have some dinner at the rooftop restaurant -- like breakfast this morning, so much easier than finding something in town. Also, after consultation with a couple guests from Denmark, I recharged my cell phone without incident, and have resumed photography.
Saturday, July 12, 2008
Rajasthan at Last
July 12
The night train to Jodhpur left Old Delhi station on time, but arrived 1.5 hours late. Not a problem though, as I was actually able to sleep (and even dream) during the journey. I feared a sleepless night as one of the other three men in the compartment wouldn't lie down and shut up, making and even receiving calls on his cell way past a reasonable hour.
Riding the Metro yesterday, only one noteworthy sight: amidst the usual thicket of grubby housing, a dreamy vision appeared: a snowy white, onion-domed temple with magenta trimming. My manager, a Delhi native, says that according to her relatives, the city's much cleaner and traffic's much improved now, due to their urban rail system (which like any trolley, uses an overhead cable instead of a third rail for power). Mostly it's elevated, only the most central stations are underground.
Observation:
India's built from brick. My previous train rides to/from Haridwar, I saw where they came from -- chimneys sprout in the green countryside with a slightly curved, alien taper (reminding me of decapitated Baobab trees) marking the furnaces where these bricks are manufactured. Even the walls of concrete-floored buildings are built up with brick -- and often, the very bumpy country roads are patched by dumping a load of broken brick into the depressions.
Anyway, I've finally reached Jodhpur, a place I've wanted to visit ever since seeing photos like these. And by luck, an inexpensive room was available in the agreeable, family-run Cosy Guest House where I may stay for many days, located as it is up sloping streets away from traffic noise. As I recall, this destination was pushed off of my initial itinerary because of weather fears, unbearable heat or continual monsoon rains, but so far it's fine, cooler compared to the other Indian places I've been, possibly 'cause it's overcast now. But it is monsoon time, so I can apparently expect showers every evening.
The night train to Jodhpur left Old Delhi station on time, but arrived 1.5 hours late. Not a problem though, as I was actually able to sleep (and even dream) during the journey. I feared a sleepless night as one of the other three men in the compartment wouldn't lie down and shut up, making and even receiving calls on his cell way past a reasonable hour.
Riding the Metro yesterday, only one noteworthy sight: amidst the usual thicket of grubby housing, a dreamy vision appeared: a snowy white, onion-domed temple with magenta trimming. My manager, a Delhi native, says that according to her relatives, the city's much cleaner and traffic's much improved now, due to their urban rail system (which like any trolley, uses an overhead cable instead of a third rail for power). Mostly it's elevated, only the most central stations are underground.
Observation:
India's built from brick. My previous train rides to/from Haridwar, I saw where they came from -- chimneys sprout in the green countryside with a slightly curved, alien taper (reminding me of decapitated Baobab trees) marking the furnaces where these bricks are manufactured. Even the walls of concrete-floored buildings are built up with brick -- and often, the very bumpy country roads are patched by dumping a load of broken brick into the depressions.
Anyway, I've finally reached Jodhpur, a place I've wanted to visit ever since seeing photos like these. And by luck, an inexpensive room was available in the agreeable, family-run Cosy Guest House where I may stay for many days, located as it is up sloping streets away from traffic noise. As I recall, this destination was pushed off of my initial itinerary because of weather fears, unbearable heat or continual monsoon rains, but so far it's fine, cooler compared to the other Indian places I've been, possibly 'cause it's overcast now. But it is monsoon time, so I can apparently expect showers every evening.
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