Day 5: Udaipur
"Wandering and gawping"
Knowing nothing of Udaipur, after an easy six hour train journey (second class, cheek by jowl with our fellow passengers) we were stunned by the contrast with what we had experienced so far. Pushkar's dusty, narrow streets were full of teeming humanity; gnarled tribesmen in huge rainbow-coloured turbans and desert-weathered womenfolk in vibrant silks, their silver jingling on wrists, ankles, nose and ears. Being constantly alert for young guys bullying heavy Royal Enfields and battered Honda crotchrockets through the crowds. The sounds and smells that accompany it all. Udaipur is a paradise by comparison.
Set on Lake Pichola, at a little altitude, the air is breezy and pink chrysanthemums grow wild between buildings. Everywhere are pagodas, courtyards and minarets and doors and windows have scalloped lintels, giving it an exotic, fantastical feel. Udaipur is given over to art and every wall, even in the most modest streets is emblazoned with bright murals of elephants, horses and camels, signifying luck, strength and love respectively. An ancient town, it was the seat of power for the maharajas of the Meewar, permanently at war with (and seemingly, never victorious against) the Mughals who ruled the northern subcontinent for centuries.
Historical trivia:
the Meewar fought on horses, the Mughals on elephants. Tired of losing all the time, the Meewar had the bright idea of putting fake trunks on their horses so the elephant cavalry would mistake them for baby elephants and not charge them History does not record whether this was successful.
The Meewar were sun-lovers so everywhere you look are depictions of the sun, moustachioed and smiling benignly, in paint, brass, silver, glass and mirrorwork. The news reports tell us of torrential rain in Chennai and the south, our destinations later in the month but here it is pleasantly warm and the pace of life seems accordingly slow.
In such a relaxing place, it has been easy to change down gears and fall into a comfortable state of tourism, wandering and gawping at our own speed and without the coterie of hawkers, hustlers and graft-artists we've become quickly used to. The City Palace is as grand a building as we've ever been in and its superbly maintained, sprawling museum easily invokes images of ancient rajas, dripping with wealth, taking court on cushioned floors in perfumed halls.
Independent and resistant to British influence, Udaipur lacks many of the obvious trappings of Empire and so feels authentic. Rajasthani traditions are fiercely protected and we have been pleased to experience puppetry, dance and art. Though we did have lunch (all-you-can-eat thali for about two pounds) in what was the maharaja's car garage, next to his vintage Morris minors.
Relaxation has been the watchword. I'm writing this in a corner of a massage room while a spry old Indian masseur contorts Helen into pretzel shapes. I dunno, it doesn't look relaxing to me but we'll see what she says about it. For me, I find my bliss elsewhere. The discovery that Udaipur serves alcohol (rare in this part of Rajasthan and completely prohibited in neighbouring Gujarat) has meant icy cold Kingfishers on the roof of our hotel and by the beautiful lake. We're watching the pennies and not having long boozy sessions but a single beer every now and again is very welcome.
Edit: I was persuaded to have a massage after all. Excruciating. Absolutely excrutiating. In fairness, my neck and shoulders now move more freely than in years but by evening I felt like I'd gone ten rounds with Anthony Joshua. With eight hours in a narrow bunk on the sleeper train tonight it to look forward to, it was probably a good idea but still, I think I'll do my relaxing in the bar from now on.
Smilng here with our masseur but look closely and you'll see the agony in my eyes.
So, we leave Udaipur refreshed, relaxed and pleased to have seen the more tranquil side of India. Next up; Jaipur and back into the madness.
"Art bought, leg lifted, palaces gasped at, gin consumed"
As well as numerous other (more unmentionable) things, Jack and I could smell the anticipation of the 12992 to Udaipur’s arrival; understandably based on our first abortive train experience. I’m sure we’ll get the hang of it but the train booking and reservation system is astoundingly complicated. Today we are seats CNF/B1/53/MB/GN – deciphered that means – confirmed/coach B1/seat 53/Middle bunk/general allocation…
It was only half an hour late and after the stern train conductor had scrutinised our tickets we relaxed into the journey – with the 4 other people sharing our ‘compartment’.
This particular train journey - 5hrs 30 – was a snip – and the lovely people at Hotel Pichola sent us a email whilst aboard to let us know they were also sending a car to collect us. Did I mention Udaipur isn’t a dry city…
We’ve spent two days in Udaipur and my goodness what a unrelentingly outstanding time it’s been. The city of the sunrise – replete with the sun’s image owing to Udaipur’s early rulers worship of it – is a beauty. All the guidebooks describe it as the Venice of India and following the slight culture shock of Pushkar, Udaipur is a different speed altogether.
Our first day was unapologetically touristy. Temples visited, art bought (leg lifted potentially but we love it nevertheless), palaces gasped at, sunsets seen, lakes crossed and gin consumed. Every corner turned was a wonder – which is also probably the reason why our daily budget also got busted…
The morning was spent at the City Palace which we happily wandered around for a good few hours – with every new room filled with beautiful mirrored tiles and coloured glass, hand painted horses and elephants on most walls and more carved stone deities than you can shake a trident at.
NB. Just a few things about the photos below: The silver on the horse's bridal and indeed the carriage which they're pulling are made of solid silver and also made in Birmingham! The marble carving is of Vishnu (he who protects and sustains all that is good in the world). In this depiction he is holding two of his main attributes - a discus and a mace.
Lunch was a short tuk tuk ride to the Garden – a thali restaurant located in the Maharana’s old garage. This being India though it was just a little more exuberant than your everyday Esso… Vintage cars were on show and we sat with locals to enjoy a £1.75 luncheon.
The rest of the day saw us traverse the lake and then take in some Rajastani folk dancing at Bagore ki Haveli – and both featured 71 year olds. A man we met on the Lake crossing undertaking his first ever backpacking trip and a woman who danced with around ten porcelain bowls on her head – both fairly incredible (for wildly differing reasons).
Side bar: whilst Jacko is still receiving daily plaudits for his beard… today was my turn for some local love – mostly owing to my earrings! It’s also a pure delight to have little kids run up to us asking what our names are and if they can have their picture taken with us.
Our second day saw us breakfast by the lake and then get turned inside out by a very impressive Master masseur at the Bharti massage school. Interestingly Jacko was asked to 'sit in' in case of fears of impropriety - of which there were none of course. Difficult to know who was most uncomfortable! To add confusion to contortion I then sat in on Jacko's bending and stretching session after he changed his mind about getting involved - all very amusing until I was informed that I am more imbalanced than him....
Next up – our first overnight sleeper train to Jaipur – the Pink City and Rajasthan’s capital. Back to the bustle if the guides are to be believed.
