plus ca change
everything is different; everything is the same. no matter how gleamingly the costa signs and golden arches dominate delhi airport india still retains more than a hangover from its idiosyncratic immediate past. in fact from the hacking coughs of the taxi driver bundling his octagenarian toy car through the early morning delhi mist to the chaos at the domestic terminal even at 6.30am when passenger numbers were low this is still a country happy to be binging on its particular brand of chaos with no last orders in sight.the flight to delhi and then on to gwalior was painless enough. gwalior is a grubby, frankly charmless, little place not even saved by the fort overlooking it because the parapets and buttresses above are hidden from view until you climb up out of the all consuming smog to the very gates. the fort does make it worth it though; slightly more dilapidated than its more feted rajasthani counterparts, the jutting torrets, mottled with gaudy blue paintwork, provide a suitable air of grandeur, with startling jain figurines etched into the rock all around. its major failing is the views that it offers; unlike the spectacular rajasthani towns cloaked in their technicolor liveries, the view of gwalior below is an accurate representation of the unappealing little town below. because of this, gwalior fort has a tenth of the visitors of jodhpur or jaisalmer, and virtually no staff to police people scrabbling through its hidden places. it's very much everything you would expect an indian fort to be, imposing stonework and structures with goats, dogs and, bizarrely, a tracksuited indian sports team all broad smiles and the beginnings of moustaches wandering out of unexpected corners. still, having had a good meander, unrestricted by hordes and officious staff (and having also managed to swing the 5 rupee indian ticket, as opposed to the 250 rupees reserved for unsuspecting foreigners) gwalior itself retained no more hold on me, so i set off to orccha at the first opportunity the following morning (pausing only to gulp in a certain 4 1 thrashing...)
the train from gwalior to jhansi threatened to be a disaster. even though it was only an hour's journey, the fact that one of the two second class carriages had been commandeered by defence personnel meant there were a lot of people angrily banging on some firmly closed doors. this is india; fortunately i have past experience of impossible to board indian trains so i snuck onto the ac carriage, bribed the chap 50 rupees and had a very comfortable 90 minutes. one of my more fruitful 60p investments.
and so on to orccha. further impressions to follow, but initially at least the beauty of the place cannot be denied, temples and palaces rising out of the small village which has encroached entirely on their boundaries. negatives? the fact that in the ten hours i've been here we've had one hour's worth of electricity. plus the temples attract a certain kind of traveller; the dull, regurgitate my lonely planet history section and wear beads type. team, filthy hastily thrown together dreadlocks and baggy trousers do not an indian make. deal with it; and fast please.
posted by bicrom @ 3:06 pm
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