India without Reality - January 2005

Why India ? You are thinking, and what is this without Reality, please read on !

Qantas recently started flying into Bombay (again); a daylight flight direct from Sydney. Little had changed; squatters in shanties parallel the runway, the short drive from the terminal to the hotel with people everywhere the chaotic traffic reminded us we are in India. The rhythm of life draws you in. This trip was a holiday, an adventure, so the objective of our planning was that this little encounter with the traffic would be one of our few brushes with the reality of India.

Our itinerary covered the Taj Mahal, an elephant safari in the Corbett Tiger Reserve, a camel mounted expedition through the dunes of the Thar Desert and a couple of nights in Maharaja Palaces. All were sufficiently removed from the chaos and noise of the hundreds of cities, towns and villages occupied by over one thousand million people in a space about half the size of Australia.

Peter’s colleagues and friends, SP and SS Kamath who he has worked with in India for 20 years, met us at the hotel where we compared notes after so many years. None of us had aged at all! It was a Cheerful, Delightful gathering of Contemporaries.

Bright and early we were off to Delhi. Most of our arrangements were made over the internet, part monies sent, there is always a minutes pause and a degree of trust. We spied a greeting sign with the name Cameron, oh that is us. Good, it seems to have worked.

Over an hour later our driver had navigated the 15 km from the airport to the “freeway” to Agra. Delhi traffic is now on a par with Tokyo!! The “free” way not only requires payment of tolls but bypasses very few towns. The 200 km took over four hours.

On arrival to Agra we received a traditional greeting - garlands of Marigolds were placed around Our Necks. Our room at the Taj View Hotel was just that; one kilometre from the Taj the view was superb. The drive down was circuitous due to regulations which prohibit internal combustion engines within close proximity of the Taj Mahal. The car is swapped for an electric three wheeler for the last 400 metres.

Through the forecourt with its arches and gardens full of people and squirrels we arrived at the magnificent entry portal with its 22 domes, one for each year of construction. Built over four hundred years ago and perfect in symmetry, the Taj Mahal combines elements of engineering, art, religion and brilliance to be one of the Seven Wonders of the World. It is a thrill when you enter the grounds. It is beautiful, like the postcards, it is better, it is breathtaking, peaceful, it is almost the year “1631” when the construction began, and from sadness comes great beauty. Exquisite screens and archways made with thousands of semiprecious stones.

We were treated to a long running history lesson of all the intricacies by our guide. The Taj Mahal was built by 20,000 Persians working day and night for 22 years. They lived in a camp adjacent to the structure. Marble blocks were sourced from Jaipur some 250 km to the west and transported by camel carts. The inlaid gem stones (malachite, lapizlasu, tiger’s eye and others) came from India and neighbouring countries. The layout is symmetrical and harmonious. The only departure is the vertical tabloids, which themselves are symmetrical but contain different chapters of the Koran. The gardens are magnificent with traditional bullock drawn lawnmowers. This is renewable energy at its best as they eat the grass they cut. The classic view is of the pool at the front of the Taj; however there are many other splendid aspects of this wonder from the gardens and the various alcoves.

This tomb for the wife of the local ruler was intended to be one of two. The other, for the ruler, was to be black, constructed from onyx on the opposite side of the river; however on his death the ruler’s son decided against extravagance and buried his father alongside his mother thus breaking the symmetry.

Everything about the Taj Mahal is wonderful we immersed ourselves in its beauty and mystic for several hours, much to the disgust of our guide whose mission was to get us into the nearby shops.

The 300 km drive from Agra to Corbett took all day. The countryside is flat and lush; the source of many crops of wheat, sugar cane, mustard seed and other basics. Whilst the factories which process the produce are relatively modern, the methods of transporting the crops are at best “traditional”. All manner of overloaded carts (drawn by camel, horse or oxen), tractors and trucks participate in this exercise. Much of the road was undergoing major maintenance which is done by manual labour. Stones are broken by hammer and hand sized before being taken to the section under construction in a basket carried on ones head. The asphalt is laid with a machine and the final finished job is smooth.

Road transport is described by the Lonely Planet (2004) as difficult and dangerous. Of the one billion people in India most are out travelling on the same road as you at the same time. The mode of transport is much the same whether on a freeway, country road or village track: trucks, buses, cars, jeeps, auto-rickshaws, tractors with trailers, motorbikes, scooters, bicycles, horse carts, ox carts, camel carts, goat carts, hand carts and pedestrians all going as fast as they can. Mostly they are overcrowded or overloaded. All figure they have priority which is ascertained by either flashing the headlights (if they have them and if they work) or by continuous use of the horn. The pitch of the horn is matched to the size of the vehicle. Failure of the horn is about the only defect which can put a vehicle off the road. Around town progress is slow but in the country one can average forty kilometres an hour on a good day.

Corbett National Park, is India’s first national park, located in the foothills of the Himalayas and inspired the India wide Project Tiger programme which started in 1973 and saw the creations of 22 other reserves, the Lonely Planets guide advises.
Elephants in national parks are becoming rather special, we believe there are only 3 parks in India that offer the opportunity to tiger spot from elephant back. This is one of the reasons we chose Corbett, also its location north of Delhi.

Another predawn start, with a cast of many - Guide, Cook and Driver, Peter and I journey by Jeep with trailer to the jungle. Forty minutes later we met up with our elephant (Laxmi) and his two handlers (Mahawats) who washed his back clean of any small stones before placing and tying on the seating platform. Standing four metres high we had no intention of following the handlers who ran up the elephant’s trunk to take our positions. An embankment was found and we gingerly mounted the seat. After swaying around for a while we both noticed our knuckles were white. It is a very odd sensation travelling on elephant back; you are seated sideways and yet travelling forwards. There must be an easier way of hanging on other than to the corner posts. This was not to be found until after the breakfast stop. Here the options were simple; scramble down the back rope of the kneeled elephant or take the bag of breakfast up and eat it from the seat. Whilst by no means the preferred option, the latter seemed to contribute to longevity of life. Opening fruit juice and peeling boiled eggs required two hands and we soon found that by sitting side saddle with feet pointing forward on the running board and leaning inwards we felt relatively secure. This also eased the pain on our white knuckles.

In our quest to spot a tiger, we journeyed through dense jungle, vegetation that was lush and green, past raging rivers, surrounded by cloud shrouded hills and mountains. Jungle noises a plenty, monkey cries, shrill and alarming, birds, called and sang, a few deer but alas no sign of a tiger. The tiger population numbers around 150 in this park of 300 square kilometres. The odds of seeing one before he sees you are probably on a par with winning the lottery!!! However we kept our eyes wide open and after seeing some footprints in the sand by the river we were a little less casual about how we hung on to our seat. Lunch was prepared by our support team with the cook resplendent in his white coat and chef’s hat. From a few pots and a two burner gas stove the culinary delights were amazing.

After a couple of river crossings we pressed on towards the Forest Rest House. Set high above the river, this 100 year old structure was built by the British with 18 foot ceilings and a fireplace in each room. It was rather romantic, dinner by candlelight, warmth by fire and a bird bath from a bucket of hot water, great fun. Being winter we appreciated the log fire with some of the logs being broken by Laxmi, he is a strong boy. Dinner was great and due to some overnight rain which postponed our early morning departure, we were allowed to sleep in. Heavy rain on a tin roof and feeling snug seemed a long way from the reality and frantic pace of city life in Dehli or Mumbai.

We bid Laxmi goodbye, he had a two day trek back to the resort and we pressed on by jeep. Fording the swollen rivers was an adventure, to be surpassed only by the narrow tracks around the mountain a couple of hundred metres above the river. To the north lay the foothills of the Himalayas covered by a dusting of overnight snow. India is full of contrasts. Wrapped in blankets to combat the wind chill factor of our open jeep, we took in some wonderful sights of fertile valleys with their terraced fields of wheat and mustard seed, layer apon layer of vivid green and earth coloured soils. Our guide Hem, told stories of local lore, of leopards and the men who went off to the military in order to feed their families. Life is hard here.

Leaving the valley a narrow track took us high onto the hills above the tiger reserve. Tiger scratch marks on the base of a tree caught the attention of our guide and we were given a lesson in animal cleanliness with the tiger cleaning his paws after a kill. The marks were long and deep, you could see the animals strength, it is easy for your imagination to run away unchecked, is he up or down the hill, scary but exhilarating. Numerous birds and deer were observed in close quarters going about their day on our trip to the next Forest Rest House at Kanda, situated on a pinnacle 1,100 metres above sea level. The 360 degree views were magnificent. Again the cook excelled himself and following dinner by the open fire we retired early for another 0530 start. This is great fun.

Much of the food is vegetarian for a variety of reasons. The lack of refrigeration is one but in Corbett Tiger Park it is mandatory to eat only vegetarian to remove suspicion of poaching. The flavours are magnificent; use is made of coriander, tumeric, cardoman and ginger. Death by hot curries or chilli can be avoided by requesting them not to be used or added. The vegetables are varied but lentils seem to pop up every time. Whilst no doubt lentils are good protein, the by-products!!!! After a week we declined the lentils. Few fruits passed the rule of “peel it yourself” but bananas were plentiful. Beer was good and readily available

The track from the rest house to the grasslands below traversed narrow, tight, sharp corners and went across numerous slips which had been cleared recently. In the pre-dawn, none of the bends and steep sides allowed us to share the confidence of our driver. Safely in the grasslands and a couple of river crossings later we pulled up at another rest house which housed an elephant. We were quick to accept the opportunity of a ride while the cook prepared breakfast.

This time we had a platform to mount the elephant, easy easy, we were old hands at this. Fifty metres from the clearing the handler pointed to tiger tracks in the creek bed and hearing the monkeys give their alarm call to the other prey of the tiger we were off up the creek. We needed little encouragement to hang on and keep quiet.
When the Mahawat, pulled up the bottom of his hat to uncover his ears so he could hear better, we straightened up and hung on. This adventure was very removed from our daily lives, this was intense and exhilarating!!!

The elephant made his way around and through the thick undergrowth but alas the tiger was not to be seen. The Mahawat decided the other side of the valley might yield a better result. Not until we got to the river did we realise we had to cross this fast flowing stream. Had we known there were crocodiles around we would have hung on even tighter!! More thick undergrowth and more tiger paw marks in the sand; more alarm calls from the monkeys. The handler listened intently. The elephant navigated the narrow animal paths and pushed through the undergrowth. No doubt the elusive tiger watched us from an obscure advantage point. Meantime there were plenty of deer, monkeys and birds. Even a tortoise swam around in a small pool. Being on elephant back, the other animals did not see us as a threat. We could have reached out and touched the deer. We were really glad we had chosen to ride elephants; this was so much closer to nature than in a motor vehicle and was really a lot of fun. The elephants were delightful, they looked at you with a twinkle in their eyes, I think they shared the fun.

Back across the river, we dismounted to a picnic breakfast before returning to the resort in the trusty jeep. After thanks and farewells, we set off for Delhi and the overnight train to Jodhpur with our car driver who had waited patiently for three days. The reality of the traffic on the overcrowded roads and the chaos of Delhi train station could not be avoided.

Arriving in Jodhpur on schedule we met our new driver and set off for the West Rajasthan city of Jaiselmer which was to be our base for a camel safari in the Thar Desert. “Can you believe I have gone along without kicking and screaming!.”

The history of this town goes back a thousand years. Originally some form of staging post for the camel drawn caravans plying the silk route, the city developed as a trading post for spices and opium. The fort was built to protect the inhabitants, many of whom became wealthy merchants. A feature of the local architecture is the lacework carved sand stone which adorn the balconies and windows. These lace like works are found in buildings called Havelis, there is a sense of the exotic, glimpses of a time past, the balconies private, where women could only see the world from inside their rooms, through tiny openings, viewing but not viewed.

Our guide whisked us around to the main gate of the fort and we climbed the 100 metres through several gates to the fort. Stretching 2 km by 1 km wide this 1,000 year old fort is home to 3,000 people and accommodates numerous tourists in rather congested hotels and guest houses. Jan took hundreds of photographs of the historical architecture and features, “every where I looked I saw chiselled and contoured shapes that begged capture”. The view from the edge of the wall which contains 99 cannon towers was spectacular. Our guide was equally as anxious to share his knowledge as he was to get us into some selected shops. Whilst fascinating for us, the latter visits did not bear economic fruit for our guide.

Making plans for the camel safari by e-mail seemed a bit shaky. We were uncertain of many things about our proposed night in the desert. Some web sites indicated fixed tents were available. The Lonely Planet mentioned other options, none contained all creature comforts and we had not established what compromises were being made. When the agent in Jaiselmer offered a Mud hut option with beds and bathroom at Khuri, we readily accepted. Although there was no hot water, it was a good choice.

The village houses are made of mud and straw, whitewashed and decorated using the patterns on Persian carpets. A tour through the desert village of Khuri by a man whose family have lived there for three generations was highlighted with visits to several of his friend’s cottages, one of whom was a potter who made a bowl using an old truck tyre for a potter’s wheel. Kids abounded, some were camera shy, others not; but they all knew the value of a 10 rupee note. When we ran out of “tens”, one man even went and got us some change! You know you are in Rajasthan when you see the women, their clothing is colourful and bright, their faces were covered, but they peek out at you and flashes of gold were seen, attached to ears and noses, these glimpses are like their embroideries all mirrors and patterns.

In the mid afternoon our camels arrived and with some trepidation we got on the saddle while they were kneeling. That was the easy part. Next the camel stands up, front legs first. “Lean back” was the instruction. We survived thus far and the camel handlers led us out into the dunes of the Thar Desert. We wandered, walked, took photos of this landscape and rode some more to Sunset Point. Peter is shaking his head, “this is all a bit amazing”. By the late afternoon the number of people on the top of the dune increased to over 100. Most arrived by camel but some came in jeeps and mini buses. We ventured to the western most part of the dune to get away from the crowds and enjoy the sunset. The colours of the dunes change as quickly as the light, wheat drifts to fawn to grey, while the sky goes from blue to pink with whispers of gold. As the sun slipped below the horizon, we heard a tinkling neck bell, our camels had arrived, what a sight, these ships of the desert silhouetted against a setting sun. Memories are made of this imagery. Looking east to check out the colours of the desert, around 20 km away the sun’s rays gleamed bright on the white towers of over 60 wind mills which formed a power generation farm. As the sun set on the dunes not far from the Pakistan border, this technology was in stark contrast to our location.

Off to bed early, for another early start to see the sun rise over the dunes then drive to Jodhpur. Bouncing around in the back of an old “Ambassador” (Indian made Morris Oxford of 1955 vintage) is not the most comfortable place to be. The countryside is dry, straw coloured with tufts of grass and scrub; sheep, goats, camels and peacocks slowly graze from vegetation to vegetation, ladies fetching water flash colour in an otherwise slow pace of life.

Arriving in Jodhpur from the west another reality check, we had to travel across town with all the horns and traffic to our accommodation at the Umaid Bhawan Palace. Built over 14 years from 1929, using local sandstone, this edifice containing no less than 347 rooms has a footprint of 200 metres by 100 metres with the central dome being 50 metres high. It is located on the hill inside gardens of a hundred acres for which the soil was carried by one hundred thousand donkeys. From the outside it is magnificent but the inside is to behold; opulence and luxury fit only for a Maharaja. In a welcome letter from The Household staff – “The Palace is still a Regal Court- The seat of the Rathore clan of Rajputs, the fearless heroic warriors who, for over 600 years, ruled the fabled desert kingdom of Marwar. We no longer aspire to being a hotel, we are proud of being The Palace, one of the grandest homes in the world”. Peter and I are very luckly, although Peter does think I quickly fitted into the role of “Princess”, I did pause for a second or so though!!

When the central government withdrew financial support for the Raj some 30 or 40 years ago they were forced to seek external sources of funding to maintain their lifestyle. Most converted their palaces into hotels. At Umaid Bhawan, 45 rooms provide luxury accommodation. Ours was a suite on the top floor of the south east corner which had previously been the children’s nursery. Larger than our apartment in Brisbane and wonderfully appointed, two balconies allowed us to admire the gardens. We were in the same wing as the current Maharaja and his immediate family.

We declined the “city tour” and spent the afternoon absorbing the wonders of the palace: the billiard room - full size and like a boys club, gardens with manicured lawns, blossoms everywhere, trophy bar – like fishing stores the murmur of tall tales could be heard, museum – what treasures, indoor swimming pool – art deco , ball room – upstairs was for the Princesses splendid in their jewels, so they could see but not be seen, , Prince’s meeting room, balconies and the dome before returning to our suite for a pre-dinner drink. How did Prince Peter and Princess Jan sleep? “Well”. Breakfast was taken overlooking the gardens where peacocks strutted their charms. We were treated to a quick inspection of some of the other luxury suites. Each had its own style of decoration and each resplendent in the layout and art work to say nothing of the generous size of each room. Our driver arrived and the time came to check out and move on to Udaipur.

Bouncing along the back roads of this more populated part of Rajasthan we passed through many towns and villages which formed our reality check for the day. There were surprises along the way, we stopped to take photos of a bullock driven water wheel, which feed irrigation channels, no wonder the terraces were so lush and green.

Arriving in Udaipur we stopped at the departure jetty for transfer to the Lake Palace Hotel. Despite our unpretentious travel gear we passed the security check and boarded the small boat for the short ride to this icon hotel. During Peter’s business travels to India in the 1980s this was his “barracks”. We decided to treat ourselves to the luxury of a night in this Maharaja’s summer palace and even rearranged our itinerary to be able to secure a booking. As it was we had to take a “luxury” room. What a surprise on checking in when we were advised that since we were only staying one night, our room would in fact be the best suite in the hotel! Apparently Queen Elizabeth stayed in this suite which was one of the original designed by the Maharaja in 1750 for parties with the most selected of his lady friends.

Before the butler opened the door he advised us to “hold your breath”. What a tantalizing statement!! We did hold our breath. On entering this outstanding room – The Khush Mahal Suite, Jan started grinning like a Cheshire cat, and is still grinning! Peter was pleasantly surprised at how well the barracks had scrubbed up (this is a slight understatement, ha ha ha!!!!). Did SP and SS who made the booking for us have an influence on this outcome?

How do we begin to describe the ambience and decorations of the Lake Palace and this opulent suite? Constructed on an island in Lake Pichola opposite the 13th century city palace by the son of the Maharaja to provide a place for moonlight picnics, this icon has 90 rooms, restaurants and havelis. The marble floors and steps are pristine and shimmer, the Belgian glass mosaic doorways are detailed and enchanting, the art works are superb, the Jhankar – the courtyard is also a performance area and around every corner is a treat, like the lotus pond. Our suite was magnificent with an alcove overlooking the lake, a sitting room on one end and a bedroom on the other with a marble floored bathroom as big as a lounge room. Six stained glass windows created a kaleidoscope of colours, tracking the sun’s every movement. Colours twinkled, yellows, greens, pinks, blues, reds, a rainbow played with the lavish furnishings and marble. The antique swing in the centre of the room promised regal Rajasthan. The thick rugs were decorated with a variety of animals, what did Peter say? Old. Yes “they were very old”. Entry was through the palace garden courtyard with the swimming pool and its famous mango tree next door. We walked around and around and took in the sunset and the evening lights of the city palace from several balconies. White washed and scalloped, corridors and windows, The Palace was dreamlike, lights glowed warm and the fabric covers of dining pavilions moved gently in the breeze.

After the evening song and dance entertainment by the bar we had dinner in the Neel Kamal restaurant. Our Table by the window overlooked the lily pond. We enjoyed the signature dish of mixed seafood and an interesting mix of rice with lamb, all served on Versace crockery with gold plated cutlery. The Indian Sauvignon Blanc was a pleasant surprise.

Our Suite, Dinner and the Lake Palace, were truly the makings of a Fantasy. For both of Us, our night there will remain one of our travelling Highlights.

After sleeping well we luxuriated in our room with breakfast in the alcove and then set off to explore every corner of the palace and take even more photos. We dropped our tickets at the travel desk for confirmation of our onward flight that night to Mumbai. Then the reality check; our 2030 flight had already gone, at 0700! Not cancelled, just preponed 13 hours. Fortunately we had looked at the backstops to the once a day flight and found that Ahmedabad was well serviced by many flights throughout the day and into the evening. The travel people got us a booking on an evening flight and our friends in Mumbai contacted our driver to advise the change of plans from a leisurely afternoon cruise around Udaipur to a run to Ahmedabad, 250 km to the south.

We checked out, thanked the staff for the wonderful experience in our magnificent suite and took the boat across to the jetty where Prakash, Peter’s driver for many years was waiting with his thirty year old Ambassador. The drive to Ahmedabad was a pleasant surprise. It used to be a narrow winding road through the Zawar hills and across the plains of Gujarat State with over 50 km of dirt road which took five or six hours. Now it is a four lane, dual carriageway freeway and the journey took less than four hours, although we did share the journey though with the usual crowd. Reality?

Back in Mumbai, we had lunch with SP, and to answer a previous question, SP suggested it was SS who had arranged the upgrade at the Lake Palace for us. I wanted to hug and kiss him, what a treat. Farewells made and Boarding Cards in hand, we were off Home and a different reality. There is no place quite like it, but we had an excellent holiday.