On Forts, Food and Fitting In

Ancient forts are the hot topic when it comes to touring Rajasthan. If you're not in a town with a fort or a grand palace then you're not doing the whole tourist thing properly. But if you happen to see a fort somewhere in the town and if that fort is on top of a hill, you've hit the big-time.

The three cities I've visited in Rajasthan so far have each sported some kind of massive structure straddling a hilltop. In Udaipur there was the City Palace, in Jodhpur - the 16th century giant fort, Mehrangarh; and in Jaisalmer - the 12th century Jaisalmer Kila.

I've already mentioned Udaipur's City Palace so I'll be moving on to Mehrangarh... Mehrangarh is sold to tourists as Rajasthan's greatest fort and it is definitely deserving of the title. It is a massive structure which dominates Jodhpur's skyline. Its enormity and its position on the hilltop have ensured that in its five hundred years of existence it has not once been breached by an attacking army. And it's easy to see why...

Mehrangarh

Jaisalmer Fort is somewhat less overbearing than Mehrangarh and still forms part of the town of Jaisalmer. People still live within the walls of the fort and it is a bustling hub of activity with markets and temples at its core. As you've probably guessed, Jaisalmer Fort is on a hilltop overlooking Jaisalmer. Its walls are made up of 99 sandstone bastions which are, apparently, slowly collapsing. The fort was built on fairly weak foundations and the daily activities of its inhabitants are slowly eroding the foundations even further. This is largely due to the large quantities of water that get poured  into the streets from haveli windows and doorsteps.

Not the best picture of Jaisalmer fort, but
you can see a bastion...

So, now that I've mentioned the forts it's time to get on to the next item on the agenda - food. I love food. Especially curry. India is the best place in the world to have a culinary epiphany. I've been here for 6 days now and I've only eaten one meal more than once - chicken masala. Every day, I eat something entirely different to what I ate the day before. I've eaten dhals, paneers, rotis, chapatis, naans, tikkas and masalas. It's fair to say I love spicy food. And spice in general (Masala chai is a great way to start the day).

The options on the menus seem endless and there is such variety to the food that I'm constantly astounded that it's all considered one cuisine.

Nothing beats the experience of having an Indian meal. Ordering a curry and tucking into it with that trusty butter naan as your only eating utensil. There's something remarkably gratifying about eating a curry with only your fingers and half-risen bread. If I ever manage to get fat, it'll be because of these bloody delicious curries.

And finally, fitting in. I chose the words 'fitting in' simply because it made the title of my blog sound much more pleasing to the ear. I have as much chance of fitting in to Indian society as a radish has of becoming Australia's next Masterchef. My plan for managing the system in India is to completely immerse myself in it. It is impossible to fight against the current in this country so the only course of action is to flow with it. As such, I'm learning Hindi from Kaushik and have occasionally caught myself doing the Indian head-wobble. I don't think I'll ever be truly fluent in Hindi, but at the moment I know enough to greet people, ask how they are, answer them if they ask me, and order beer/food at a restaurant. Just enough to get by.

Namaste

Oliver  

A Change of Plans

Those of you who knew I as traveling to India probably had a rough idea of where I intended to go. As I told you, I planned on arriving in Mumbai and heading south to Goa, Karnataka and Kerala. I feel it's necessary to update you about my 'slight' change of plans with regards to direction.

When I arrived in Mumbai I set about finding out the best way to get to Goa. In my search for clarity I ended up being informed that now is a terrible time to go to Goa, you silly tourist, you... Monsoon has just ended and the tides are all funky. This basically translates to: "If you're going for the beaches you'll be surprised to find that there aren't any."

After a quick rethink with the help of a friendly guy who asked to be referred to as Ali (after Ali G) I changed my plans and booked tickets to go north. I arranged to meet a driver who would take me on a whirlwind tour of Rajasthan before depositing me in Agra to catch a train to Varanasi, but more on that later.

As you can imagine I was quite nervous about booking this whole trip, but I put my faith in Ali and went ahead with it anyway. Yesterday afternoon I caught a taxi to the bus station, ready to jump on the bus to Udaipur, only to be told the bus had been cancelled. Oh fuck!
Not to worry, Ali rescued the situation. He pointed me towards a bus and said that that bus would be going to Udaipur, but I couldn't stay on it the whole way. He told me ride the bus as far as Boribuli and then get off and wait for another bus which would be going to Udaipur. The darkest hours of my trip followed. I got off the bus at Boribuli and waited... and waited... and waited...

I was stuck in a tiny travel office for nearly 3 hours waiting for a bus to take me to Udaipur. The bus kept getting delayed and I worried that I was going to be stuck in that damn travel office for the rest of my stay in India. For the first time ever, I harboured thoughts of going home - leaving it all behind and giving up. I arrived in India with such arrogance and I have been quickly humbled by this giant of a country. Travel here is not going to be easy.

The bus arrived. My journey to Udaipur began in earnest. After 21 hours on the road, or on the side of it (hour-long breaks seemed to happen every hour or two) I arrived in Udaipur. I was greeted by the head-wobbling Kaushik, my driver for the next couple of weeks.

Ahhh... Curry...

After a long journey with very little food my stomach was not just grumbling, but shouting at me. I beat a track to the nearest curry joint and wolfed down a fantastic chicken masala with butter naan. The food here is fantastic - curries, biryanis, dhals - all exploding with flavour. It's a spice-lovers paradise. Hmmmm... food...

It's a pity you don't see how long it takes to write these blog posts, because I was daydreaming about curries for a solid ten minutes just now.

But I digress, after being picked up by Kaushik I headed to the City Palace; a stately building which was built over a few centuries by many different kings. The result is a strange amalgamation of rooms and nooks and crannies that all differ slightly from the room or nook or cranny adjacent to them. There are random staircases that first wind down then spiral up for no apparent reason. From the highest point, however, is a remarkable view over cramped and crowded Udaipur. Houses seem to lean on each other and jostle for space that isn't there. I'm detecting a trend with Indian cities...

The City Palace - as viewed from a rooftop restaurant 

The palace was an intriguing  structure, but not what I had wanted to see most of all. That honour was reserved for Ahar - a collection of 250 tombs of the old kings of the Rajput laid out on a wide field. I wasn't disappointed. The white tombs with their domed roofs are quite remarkable. Although nothing compared to the likes of Angkor Wat or Bayon they are still striking in their own way. In typical Indian fashion they are surrounded by litter and seemingly forgotten, but this suited me just fine as it gave me freedom to wander around them at a steady pace and just take them in. Hassle free. Just what I needed.

On the way back to my hotel I stopped off at the Princess Garden which is thoroughly overrated, and an art school where local artists practice the fine Rajasthani painting so iconic of this region of India. That, too, was a bit of a letdown as none of the artists where actually painting anything at the time and it was clear that all they wanted me to do was buy as much of their art as I could carry.

I just read through my blog, got stuck at the food part, and now... curry.