The Fairytale Fort and Desert Nights

Next stop Jaisalmer, the bus being luxurious compared to the previous. We were met at the bus station by the hotel, recommended by a couple we had met in Varanasi, and the rooftop yet again provided the most amazing view of the old city and ancient fort towering over the rooftops below and all glowing gold as the sun sunk below the horizon shortly after our arrival. Having booked the required camel safari the following day was free top explore the old town and fort, unique in that it is still home to around 25% of the old cities inhabitants, other forts are all empty. Despite all the hawkers and touts, the narrow streets adorned with the magnificent stonework of old havelis along with the fort itself still appear to have leapt straight from the pages of a medieval fairytale. We had a great time meandering through the lanes of the fort, exploring the magnificent Jain temple complex housed within, and then the old town, somehow managing to find Patwa-ki-Haveli. This huge former home bridges a narrow lane and the stonework detail is unsurpassable. Inside the treat continues with room after room of opulent decoration and furniture giving a real glimpse into the lives of the then rich. The following morning, bright and early we were picked up by 4x4 and whisked to our waiting camels and four guides. Pepsi was to provide my transport for the next 3 days with big Ali, who looked like an India Chuckle Brother, providing the steadying hand on this reluctant, complaining 3 year old. Little Ali was the provider of endless enthusiasm and at 20 had learnt English from his 10 years already spent in the job. Bobby was quiet, smoking endlessly, but very attentive. Ramjan was the final member, the old man at 49, an excellent chef and only member to wear a turban! The first couple of hours were spent wondering how I was going to put up with another 2 and half days on the back of such an uncomfortable beast with its jerking gait but thankfully my legs soon stretched and eased with the final day actually proving the most comfortable. Most of the time was spent crossing flat, baked, rubble strewn plain only interrupted by straggly bushes and a few trees which provided the shade for the much needed lunch stops. To say the landscape was beautiful would be overstating the case but it did have a certain attraction which just about lasted the length of the trip. It was only when we stopped for the two nights that we encountered small strips of sand dunes which were special although tiny in comparison to the dunes of Morocco we have had the privilege of visiting and hardly untouched with footprints snaking over every face. Cooking over an open fire and then sleeping under such a blanket of stars was not bad at all. It is also only during the night that you can appreciate the desert climate as the baking days gave way to the bitter nights of the approaching winter. In all I did enjoy the trip though found it somewhat a contrived tourist experience (though not sure what I expected), always being led and hardly out in the sticks with villagers greeting us every evening with cold coke and beer. Our guides however could not have been better though I think that's me done with camel trekking for the foreseeable future.

The Blue City

I am very pleased to report, after the disappointment of the pink-more-like-peach city of Jaipur, that the Blue city of Jodhpur is definitely blue! After a rickety 5 hour bus ride all 6 of us arrived in town, our numbers swelling having been joined by Amy's parents and 2 TOLFA volunteers, and a 3 rickshaw convoy soon saw us speeding through the narrow lanes of the old city towards our hotel. We made it without sliding into the shallow open sewers lining every lane and without any head-on collisions and so felt brave enough to head out into the maze on foot. By good fortune more than design we dodged the rickshaws, cows and scooters so ending up at the clock tower, the centre of the old town, and plunged into the bazaar. Escaping that with wallets intact a beer on the rooftop watching the setting sun was perfect relaxation and the first beer since arriving in India. Pushing the boat out completely we then sought out a fantastic meat restaurant to ensure that all cravings were satisfied, Pushkar being both dry and strictly vegetarian. Once we got underway the following morning we did the obligatory tour of the old fort which truly dominates the skyline, the audio tour well worth the listen bringing the place to life. Having then pottered over to the Maharajahs cenotaphs a late lunch was enjoyed before reading and watching the sun again set over the blue cubed city. It is great to be on the road again and Jodhpur an excellent stop. The fort is the best we have seen so far, the old city is exciting, noisy, pretty, dirty and enchanting and the perfect stop to get back into the swing of things.

The Tree of Life and Missing Lake

Since we left the UK there has only ever been one date that could not be altered, the 18th October was when we were due in Pushkar to start our month volunteering for the charity the Tree of Life for Animals (aka TOLFA). We actually did manage to arrive on that very date, though strictly speaking did not start work until the following day. One month later, believe me that it has flown past, and we are ready to move on to start the next leg of our adventures. For the first week and a bit, there were 8 volunteers and with both Indian vets and a number of other staff on a prolonged Dewali holiday we were all able to be useful, muddling through the list of jobs that needed doing. I generally tucked myself away in theatre, ensuring that plenty of dogs will no longer have a use for their reproductive organs, while Amy tackled the large animal sheds and the dog treatments getting shared around to whoever had time. We found a real mixed bag of cases, from dogs with horrendous chronic mange and maggot infested wounds to adult cows with open fractures of major long bones. I also managed to get bitten on the second day (and again in the last week!), nothing serious but with rabies endemic any broken skin means that top up vaccinations are needed, Amy had to do the honors having bought the vaccine over-the-counter at a small pharmacy. All very different from back home and the big treatment option of euthanasia not a realistic option, especially when considering the holy status of cows and monkeys, killing them punishable by long jail sentences! Having described the worst, there were also plenty of animals who just needed a bit of a holiday, some rest and good grub, before being released back onto the streets. For this first week we muddled through, with the added event being the wedding of the charities founder Rachael to Anu. Having missed her actual wedding date due to visa issues, it ended up that the reception was before the wedding and consisted of people processing past to give gifts and have a photo taken before a huge buffet was served up and the boys got stuck into some seriously competitive dancing! During the camel fair hotel prices sky rocket and we had to move out of Pushkar and into a nearby village as the charity could not cover this increased cost. Moving out to Foy Sagar, on the outskirts of Ajmer, meant that we had no time to wonder around the event of an evening and so all I saw of it was the day spent at the veterinary clinic and we payed to stay an extra night in Pushkar as Sunday was our day off and we wanted to make the most of it. On the plus side we did get a chance to see a bit of rural village life, its amazing how cheap local shops and stalls are, and we were welcomed by the family we were lodging with. Once the vets were back there was unfortunately less reason for the vets to be there. I'm sure the extra hands came in useful but our expertise were certainly not needed as the local vets tended to take over any new case that came in or "suggested" to us how we should do things differently. They did not seem to recognise when our training or experience made us better qualified, nor did they really want to discuss anything. While I am sure the extra hands were a help, I was left with the impression that the donation rather than manpower is what was wanted. There were however positives! The scooter ride to and from the clinic everyday was perhaps the highlight, riding along the quiet road through villages and past villagers carrying loads or herding their goats. Flank spays are now no problem, a technique generally only used in cats back home, and I had plenty of opportunity to carry out other ops including a penis amputation in a dog (don't ask!). I can now also be confident that with time most wounds will heal, though whether owners back home would be willing to wait is a different matter! We also met some great people, the other volunteers were all very enthusiastic and hard working, the staff were good fun and I really enjoyed the lunchtime cricket matches. I also think that the charity does an amazing job that is much needed and that anyone who is so inclined would struggle to find a similar charity that could better use any donation.

And what of Pushkar itself? It is a very tourist orientated place that has resulted in the destruction of the holy feel of the town. Pushkar is after all the home to hundreds of temples and scores of pilgrims do visit to worship and bathe in the lake. That was the other problem of our visit, the lake was dry having been drained for repairs and cleaning at the start of the year but the pathetic monsoon failing to refill its waters. As a result the main beauty of the town was missing though the rooftop view from our hotel in the morning was still very special, especially when the troops of monkeys were leaping from roof to roof! The few days that we were not at the clinic were well spent the first being a scooter ride into the heart of neighbouring Ajmer, parking right at the gate for the most important Muslim pilgrimage site in India. This was equivalent to riding on the pavement of Oxford street , against the flow of traffic during the last minute Christmas rush - not for the faint hearted. Still, no young children were squashed and the town was full of life. Another day scooter ride took us on some seriously rocky tracks into the heart of the countryside to visit some of the many temples and shrines dotting the landscape. It was great to escape the crowds though not sure Deepak, the scooter hire man, would have been too impressed. Another day was simply spent relaxing, drinking chai, reading and sleeping. Hey, we were working so what was wrong with that? The final big event, at least for Amy was the loss of my beard. A cut throat razor making disappointingly light work of my 2 month beard!

Camels Camels Everywhere

We had timed our stay in Puskar to coincide with the annual camel market and festival, the largest of its kind. The week leading up to the big event saw the participants arrive in large herds, slowly traipsing across the tundra of the desert and providing a more novel form of road obstacle as we zipped to and from the TOLFA clinic on scooters. The trip to the petrol station provided a glimpse as to the size of the newly erected tented village but as darkness came on early we could not explore further in the evenings after work. It was not till the day before the official first day, Sunday and our day off, that we could roam the Mella ground at our leisure. The sight that greeted us was impressive, the number of animals vast. Camels of all ages had arrived from far and wide along with large numbers of both horses and cattle to be sold to dealers that themselves had traveled considerably. What a week before had been nothing but dusty, sandy scrub land was now packed tight with the beasts leaving barely enough space for their current owners to unroll a blanket and brew a much needed chai. This activity is what the event was all about but now it plays just a part. Rusty, ancient fairground rides were being unpacked and put together like giant mechano sets and a plethora of stalls and canteens had created an entirely knew high street in the desert. Quickly stepping from this tourist route we could wind our way through the livestock with no hastle save a few jewelry hawkers from Fatepur Sikri, and witness the preparations as the camels had stray hairs closely trimmed, inspections were made and gossip was exchanged. The activity only increased towards sunset as fires dotted the camp and smoke drifted across the plain with the sun slowly sinking into the horizon.

That was our tourist experience, next was the veterinary one! For one day, by rota, each of the volunteers at TOLFA was sent with a couple of staff members to lend a hand at the Veterinary Camp run by the Jaipur charity Help in Suffering. Despite having little specific knowledge (I must have slept through our camel lecture) what was presented was first aid. Plenty of rub wounds from ill fitting saddles and bridles, infected noses from splintered control pegs, sliced foot pads, maggots and the big one...inappentance. Wounds were cleaned, disinfected, dressed if needed and injections dispensed. Maggots were removed and abscesses flushed. Those with inappetence (usually presented with a mouth full of food!) were dispatched with wormer and a curry powder appetite stimulant. The hardest part of the process was grabbing one of the local staff to act as translater of the problem and then finding them again to explain the treatment to the owner.

The Taj some Twitching and a Jaipur Dewali

The overnight journey, spent on one of the upper bunks in coach S3 was very pleasant, being rocked to sleep under 3 fans which make a/c at night an unnecessary luxury, and arriving a mere hour late into Agra Fort station. We found our hotel right by the south gate of the famous Taj Mahal, the roof views were as promised though the rest of the building was grubby with surely staff...fine for 1 night. We walked the 100 yards to the entrance and found ourselves face to face with arguably the worlds most iconic building. It was spectacular! The marble gleaming soft impressions of blue to white to gold and the walkways full of excited tourists, colourful Indians and babbling school children. We spent several hours in the buildings presence, admiring its elegance from all angles as well as exploring the two flanking buildings which are sites in their own right. An autorickshaw sped us to Agra's other principle site, the red fort, where we were greeted with the red stone, yet more gleaming marble and superb views of the Taj and adjacent river. The mosque to the north and its associated bazaar were frenetic, the streets gridlocked with pedestrians, but refreshingly hassle free and providing a good lunch break. An early start and another rickshaw hired meant that we could watch the sunrise light up the marble domes from the opposite side of the river, accompanied only by a soldier and young litter of street dogs.

Our early departure from Nepal meant that we had a couple of "spare" days in hand and so the next port of call was Bharatpur, arriving on the bus mid-morning before then retracing our steps by half an hour to see the old ruined city of Fatepur Sikri. We could not avoid a guide for the mosque and its giant entrance gate and marble shrine, and then spent a quiet 2 hours ambling through the empty stone buildings of the royal residence. Definitely not a must see as the guide book had suggested but worth popping into if you happen to have an afternoon free and are in the area! Now the main draw of Baratpur is the national park that is home to rare wetland habitat that draws thousands of migrating birds. This is all well and good but we found out at the guesthouse that there was little of either, that is wetland or birds. The monsoon has been awful for several years now resulting in the conversion of lakes into puddles and the knock-on effect is that the birds have decided to give the place a miss. Still, we had come all this way and so decided that for 6 quid each we really could afford a cycle rickshaw and guide to take us round for 4 hours in the morning (bikes are not currently allowed as the authorities have fallen out with the hire companies!). Eager to see what was on offer I grabbed my bag off the bed to go and watched in horror as my camera performed a perfect pirouette with backward somersault before crashing to the floor, and no there was not a shag pile carpet to cushion the impact. With the lens wobbling on the body and little sign of life you will just have to take my word for it that there were a few birds, though in groups of ones and twos rather than hundreds, the guide and rickshaw wallah did a great job pointing everything out for us, we must have seen at least 25 different avian species and a few mammals to boot including kingfishers, egrets, eagles, parakeets, stalks, woodpeckers, antelope and boar. Again it was not a spectacular as it may have been but we had an excellent morning and it was a relief to escape the bustle of city life for the countryside. We did wonder around the town itself, the streets were bustling with last minute shoppers preparing for the upcoming Dewali festival (think Christmas and New Year rolled into one) with tinsel and twinkling lights strung between the pylons. High spirits were the order of the day with no hassle and plenty of hellos.

A 4 hour bus took us to Jaipur, the southwest point of the "Golden Triangle", the Pink city, and our final stop before starting work in Pushkar. First impressions for me were indifference, apart that is from the amazing guesthouse that we found ourselves in. At the Pearl Palace we felt in luxury at a budget price and a rival to the Jade Emu in Dali and the Outside Inn in Yangshou. Our evening wonder revealed an old city that was more a peach than pink and the buildings we saw nothing spectacular. Amy had a more favourable impression but this is my blog so indifferent it is! What we did find though was a little back street electrical repair shop. I had found that the lens mount of the camera body had come loose with a few screws to tighten. As feared these had threaded and could not be simply tightened but what The repair hero did after putting aside the DVD player he had been fixing was to somehow still secure everything in place so that any movement was tiny. The lens now does not focus 1 in every 10 shots and I am sure the fix will come undone at some stage but at least I do not have to fork out for an upgrade and am back in the land of photography, phew! Our one full day in town and we booked ourselves onto the exhausting 9 hour RTDC coach tour of the local sights, the 5 hour half day we had our eye on was not running. We must have gone to about 9 different forts and temples with 2 separate shop stops thrown in for free. I did not feel there was any absolute standout though Amber fort was impressive but having seen it at the end of the day fatigue had set in. The observatory was also a good distraction with the worlds largest sundial accurate to 2 seconds alongside assorted other contraptions to tell star sign, hemisphere of the sun, month and day. The actual highlight of Jaipur came in the evening when, nestled on the rooftop patio of our guesthouse, we were treated to a megatons worth of fireworks set above the illuminated city center. These continued well into the early hours, earplugs (travel essentials!) ensuring a good nights sleep.

Cremation on the Ganges

We had chosen a family run guest house right by Assi ghat, the southernmost set of stone steps leading into the river Ganges. For the entire taxi ride, sat in a rusty old Ambassador and weaving between rickshaws, we were being told how dirty and quiet our choice was but how fortunately our very friendly co-driver knew an excellent place we could stay. They seemed perplexed when we insisted on our intended destination and thankfully we had an incredibly friendly welcome which was much needed after our previous 24 hours. What this welcome also meant was that while we were checking in, the father of the house got rather excited by the fact that our surnames were the same, with tradition dictating that a wife takes her husbands name the same in India. This simple detail prompted a long discussion regarding the sanctity of marriage, the difference in Indian and Western courting customs and accepted practice and the caste system as a whole. It was very interesting but all we wanted was a shower after 29 hours sat on some form of transport. We left it until the evening before braving the walk along the river, collapsing for most of the remaining hours of daylight, having heard of the nightly fire ceremony downstream at the main ghat. I have to admit to a twinge of disappointment initially as the riverbank, the supposed center of city life, appeared near enough deserted. This may have had something to do with the complete lack of lighting and this disappointment soon turned to fascination when we came across the diplomatically named "Small Burning Ghat". The small fires were not there to provide warmth but rather contained corpses at varying stages of cremation, the wrapped body (red for a woman, white for a man) clearly visible in some, being licked by flames. A procession arrived soon after us, the male relatives carrying a simple stretcher on their shoulders supporting the deceased draped in ornate fabrics. No women were present which we later learnt was due to the habit of jumping onto the pyre to join their husband or son. After arriving the procession moved into the water, the holy Ganges washing any sin from the corpse, and then placed the stretcher by the waiting pyre and uncovering the face of their relative. At this point the body appeared to be left, ignored for around 5 minutes though I did not watch whet the living were doing. After being placed on the wooden platform the entire body, save a loin cloth, was exposed to allow a final blessing or offering of oil and dyes. The entire affair is orchestrated by members of the "untouchable" caste, the lowest of all, whose responsibility it is to construct the pyres and manage the burning. We also learnt that anyone not able to afford the wood for the cremation may use leftovers from others or be content with the much cheaper government electric cremation service which is however very much frowned upon. It is possible that death is the final major taboo in western society, hidden as it is from everyday life. Watching the process in the gloaming on the banks of such a mighty river felt incredibly voyeuristic, uncomfortable and intrusive yet at the same time was fascinating and difficult to drag your eyes away from the events as they unfolded. What would be an intensely private affair back home was very much an everyday spectacle here and we were not given a second glance. This final stage in a persons life is only one part of a bigger picture in Varanasi, a city where death is ever present. Not only does the Gange purify the soul (a great irony given the level of pollution including excrement and ridiculously high levels of heavy metals), it is also believed that anyone who dies in Varanasi immediately gains enlightenment and therefor escapes the cycle of rebirth. What this means in practice is that many of the countries elderly travel great distances to live out their final days on the streets or in shelters simply waiting for death. After all this the fire ceremony was lively, loud and very busy with hordes of tourists and the devout crowding the banks and river itself in wooden row boats of all sizes.

A much needed lie-in was the order for the first morning and so fully rejuvenated we again wondered along the slightly busier ghats and into the maze of alleys that make up the labyrinthine old town. Needless to say we did not find the temples and mosque that were marked on the map but are banned to foreigners anyway. We retreated from the heat of the day before meandering to the nearby monkey temple and 2 others whose name I forget. After the beauty of the Buddhist monasteries the Hindu buildings of worship are rather plain but interesting places for people watching being very much sites of active daily worship. Ignoring the complaints of the shoe keepers for not giving 10 rupees/pair we failed to avoid getting ourselves "dotted" on the forehead with red dye. A trip to Varanasi is not complete without a morning boat trip to view the glorious sunrise illuminating the ghats and the thousands of locals in golden light. The swarming masses were busy washing body, teeth and clothes, praying silently while cupping the sacred water, cleansing the spirit with repeat submersion (the women fully clothed, the med in loin clothes); and all this accompanied by general chit-chat, news and rumour gathering. It is during the cooler hours of morning and preceeding sunset that the river is at its most lively with the 2 hours flying by. Amy decided to spend the rest of the day at the guesthouse, having broken her longest illness-free period since arriving in Beijing, and so I took myself off to the holy site of Sarnath, the location of Buddas first teaching. Hiring a rickshaw for the round trip I found myself racing along the streets to an Indian Bollywood soundtrack, my boy-racer driver having installed a large speaker on the back shelf. While the ruins were pleasant enough with only a single large stupa still standing, of more interest was the Jain temple and the desciple there who was more than happy to sit and explain the nature of the religion with its naked gurus who sweep the way before every step and never wash so as not to kill even the smallest bacteria. Having more or less recovered by the following morning Amy and I were both set for the overnight train to Agra which allowed the day for relaxation and getting lost in the streets adjacent to the river.

Border Towns, Crooks and Transport

A 9 hour bus journey took us to the border with India, which we crossed in rickshaw without any problem. A little bit on the tired side and guards down we were then sitting ducks. After buying our bus ticket for the onward leg we then took up the offer of booking tickets the night train to Varanasi from Gorakpur. Looking back, we probably ended up paying 4 times more than needed but we only twigged after the money had changed hands and from that point there was no going back even though it then took someone 15 minutes to arrive with the printed e-ticket. We were then followed onto the bus by a nasty piece of work who demanded an extra extortionate government and baggage fee and became very aggressive when we refused, continually pushing me and jabbing at my arm. Quite how he would have carried out any of the threats, including keeping our luggage, I don't know but with the driver and a bus full of locals looking on passively it was easier to pay what amounted to around 10 quid than risk any escalation. The bus journey was then spent fuming at both the thieving robbing bastards but also at myself for getting drawn in to what was an eminently avoidable situation. Still, it was our first incident to date and you have to be prepared to take the rough with the smooth, especially when any monetary loss is fairly insignificant (though a little goes a very long way). It also did little to lessen my general hatred of border towns. Arriving at Gorakpur station we thankfully found out that our ticket was valid (otherwise would have added insult to injury) and after a tasty local thali we proceeded to wait for 3 hours on the platform, insects swarming around every light making it anything but pleasant. The train, 2nd class sleeper, was surprisingly pleasant allowing a much needed sleep after traveling for 18 hour though it was delayed by an hour before leaving and then arrived the following morning 4 hours late in what should have been a 7 hour journey. We had however arrived in Varanasi.