lawrence of a-gaybia
it's become increasingly apparent to me over the last few months that, contrary to the bleatings of numerous gesture, 'look at me, aren't i ethnic', travellers, sights and activities that are undeniably tourist cliches can still be highly rewarding. a camel safari around the thar desert above jaisalmer served to further consolidate this view.
we were dropped off at the edge of the desert at about ten in the morning, ste and i looking rather dashing (well camp) in our bright pink rajasthani turbans. a few minutes later, our camels trotted into view. at first glance, they are truly impressive beasts, much larger in size than i had preconceived with long, graceful, necks. unfortunately once you get a bit closer their brobdingnagnian defects become clear. they're covered in little sand mites, their fur is more mangy than glossy, and they are caked in their own shit: despite constant attempts to swish it over innocent passers by with their tails, their entire back halfs are smothered in excrement, creating a fairly aggresive assault on the senses. i was given a particularly petulant fucker called lallu to deal with. the entire day was a replaying of the time honoured battle between man and beast: i'd tug at lallu's reins in an attempt to get him to go in the right direction, and he'd ignore me and try and drag my legs through whichever bit of sharp foliage was at hand. i'd like to think mine was the moral victory, although my legs are cut to shreds. somewhat bizarrely, our camels reflected our personalities perfectly: mine was obstinate and difficult, my sis's did the bare minimum to avoid getting shouted at, and ste's was just a dopey slacker, constantly plunging his head down to munch on some grass and generally expending the minimum amount of energy possible.
we trotted around the desert all day, and it really didn't disappoint. i like to think that as well as taking in the views, the sight of two fools struggling to stay on camels in hot pink pagris will be something that the bemused desert locals will have appreciated too: you have to give something back and all that (and what beter gift is there than uproarious laughter and pointing). the happy conclusion was on the sand dunes, waiting for the sun to set, a peaceful moment which i may have marred slightly by inventing the cracking new game of dunejumping. a simple pastime, you just run to the edge of a dune and jump off, so that when you land you're wedged waist deep in sand. it's actually a fairly stupid thing to indulge in, so it came as no surprise that lamby was game.
as the sun set over the horizon, an unprecedented number of stars bedecked the canopy of the night sky. with no moon and no pollution, bar camel flatulence, the stellar display was jaw dropping. as our camels ambled back to the jeep in the dark, the sky in every direction glistened with serene white lights. it was a stunning end to an amazing day.
rajasthan has much scope for tomfoolery, but it is also hopelesly romantic: mouthy brother in laws are not. as such, i'm off to delhi now, leaving my sis and ste to enjoy jaipur together.
arabian nights
rajasthan continues to tick all the right boxes. we're currently in jaisalmer, a dreamy little town where everything's shot in honey filtered technicolor. our guesthouse is actually in the fort, so any journey involves wandering down a plethora of mazy little side streets... even if any zealous invading types had managed to breach the huge gates, they'd get lost pretty quickly once inside.
we've spent the day taking it pretty easy, but tomorrow is the tourist inevitability of an all day camel safari: me and lamby have both purchased ridiculous, bright (pembroke) pink, lawrence of arabia turbans for the event so will look suitably ridiculous. here's to falling off and not getting arrested for looking like a (particularly camp) member of alquaeda.
happy as lamby
my brother in law, ste/ lamby, is old. considerably older than me. he won't admit it, but we're talking born when there was still rationing aged. he has a phd in chemical engineering from imperial and works for deutsche bank. he has a wife and a mortgage. a genuine grown up basically. unfortunately, it only takes a few minutes with his reprehensible shala (me) and his maturity levels sink to the mire. as such, when he arrived bleary eyed at my uncle's flat in ahmedabad on friday morning i knew good times would follow as surely as my sis knew that telling offs would have to be doled out.
ahmedabad was a delight: we were much spoilt, and stuffed to the gills with food. lamby also managed to get himself chased by a rabid monkey that he'd been eyeballing from the balcony... cue a hasty retreat inside and an audible thud on the rapidly slammed door as the simian went big for white man flesh. we boarded the midnight train to jodhpur feeling fairly replete and ready for some rest. there was a minor complication in that indian train beds are designed for little brown people and ste is 6'2, but the absurd sight of his besocked feet hanging off the edge of the top bunk certainly helped me sleep better. the numerous cracks on the head he received when he foolishly went to sit up can't have helped his cause much, but hey.
and so it was we found ourselves in jodhpur. the city is a real delight, filled with extraordinary buildings but, even more importantly, blessed with that intangible quality of personality so lacking in places like mandalay or mumbai. you can wander aimlessly around the backstreets here and still emerge sweaty but inexplicably happy: this is especially true if you run into an elephant, as we did on our walk from the station. anyone familiar with my sis's wedding (where ste's one request, to ride in on the back of an elephant, was cruelly laughed out of the shop) will know how happy he was. to make things even better our guesthouse has an amazing rooftop from which you can see all the bright blue houses of the old city, as the massive fort looms imposingly on the sheer rock face behind.
having checked in and showered we went to umaid bhavan, the residence of one of the local maharajas. fuck me but these boys know how to live. the place is huge, with epic gardens and incredible art deco styling. what's absolutely mind blowing is that, despite its completely anachronistic size and opulent styling, it was only completed in the 1940s. it's as absurd as someone today deciding not to build trump tower, but rather the taj mahal. the current incumbent's fallen on hard times (well hardish) so the place is now also a luxury hotel: the maharaja suite is a bargain $1,000 US a night. i'm checking in tomorrow. as we wandered about i continued my mission to make wifebeater wearing more socially acceptable, with frankly limited success. there were a few frowns from under the attendants' moustaches (which are breathtaking... the rest of india may have given up, but the rajputs know how to cultivate a top lip: they even seem to appreciate my constant tasche applauding).
today was spent wandering around the meherengarh fort... me and my sis managed to blag in for 10r, but to be honest had i spent the 250r i wouldn't have been disappointed. the place is absolutely huge, the architecture is stunning, and some of the intricate detailing defies belief. all this even before you factor in the fact that, as you're on the top of a honking big hill, there are panoramic views wherever you look. some of the local visitors however thought that the real spectacle was lamby... pasty white men are a bit thinner on the ground then forts round here, and barely had we turned our backs that ste was the focal point of various photoes taken by excited, snaphappy, buds.
off to jaisalmer tonight, but may return to jodhpur before delhi. after having my faith in india shaken in mumbai, rajasthan is proving to be a welcome restorative.
ps do i have a big nose? my (mature) bro in law has spent the last day calling me 'big nose' to compensate for the fact that his conk looks like pinocchio's after a clintonesque impeachment hearing. i'm crying inside...
