Keep Calm and Carry Ohm 24/11/08 Day 11 - Pushkar |
After another most enjoyable breakfast (New food experience for the day was Choley, a chick pea curry but runnier than Channa Massala) we checked out and sat in the foyer to wait for our driver, Sanjey. We also watched our suitcases get commandeered by the porters which annoyed me. It was the same guy who extorted money from me when we arrived from Agra on Sunday. |
Sanjey turned up promptly at 9am and in a rapid tactical movement we liberated our suitcases from the porters and headed for the door before he knew what had happened. Our quick escape was in jeopardy as the sole exit was guarded by a giant of a doorman. He towered above us and could quite easily have picked us both up by the scruff of our necks and thrown us back into the foyer but he politely opened the door and smiled gently. We didn't even have to grace his palm with silver. He also had one of the noblest moustaches I had ever seen! I just had to ask him if I could take his photograph. For which I willingly tipped him. |
The landscape had become quite arid as we drove through the dusty outskirts of Kishangarh. Huge slabs of white marble from the nearby mining town of Makrana filled the roadside. This was the source for the marble used in constructing the Taj Mahal and centuries later it's still a major centre for this most beautiful of stone. Lorries, oversized and dusty, were parked up laden with tons and tons of the marble ready to be transported to the golden triangle of Jaipur, Agra and Delhi. |
As we turned off the main road towards Pushkar we drove past a road sign that warned ominously "You are now entering an Accident Prone Zone". I reached for my lap seatbelt which rather worryingly didn't work properly. Before too long the ill-fated reputation of the road claimed another victim. I was just relieved that it wasn't us. |
There was an overturned coach on its side in the grass verge with its distraught driver sitting on top. He must have been thinking "I am so going to lose my job over this." |
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We couldn't work out how the hell it had happened. It was a straight road albeit a little narrow. We didn't have much time to investigate the possibilities as we drove past without stopping. |
Only later did I think "I hope nobody got hurt." and then when I realised there was an empty coach parked by the side I thought "Shit, I hope they're not still stuck inside" By the time I had got around to processing that thought we were already entering Pushkar city limits. |
Pushkar is considered a very holy place and is an important sight of pilgrimage for Hindus but outside of India Pushkar is famous for one thing only, the spectacle of its annual Camel Fair. A permanent fixture on the calendar, ten days after Diwali, (a nationwide festival of lights) tens of thousands of camel traders mingle with tourists who jostle for prime space with the pilgrims. A large tented city rises in the desert to accommodate the visitors. The festival begins with camel racing after which the serious business of buying and selling takes place then in the evening people gather to enjoy music around the campfires. |
How potent must it have reeked at the height of the camel fair and the 38C temperatures. It doesn't bare thinking about! |
Before we came to the centre of town we picked up a local guide, Dev, a young lad wearing blue jeans, which were the first pair I'd seen in India. His mission was to show us why Pushkar was one of the five pillars of the Hindu pilgrimage. Legend has it that the lake around which Pushkar is situated was created by divine petals that fell from the hand of Brahma the Creator, the god of all gods. The name Pushkar derives itself from pushpa for flower and kar for hand. Whilst there are over 400 temples in Pushkar one above all was the star attraction, the Brahma temple. The reason for its importance is its uniqueness as the only temple dedicated to Lord Brahma. "Do you know why ?" asked Dev. We replied with our silence. "I will tell you later" he said keeping us in suspense. We followed him down to the temple steps and were surprised to see a small unassuming entrance to this holiest of temples. |
We followed Dev up some stairs that overlooked the inner sanctum and also overlooked the whole of Pushkar. I was now really annoyed I didn't have my camera. Then to put me in an even grumpier mood I got bit on my leg. This huge fly was sucking away quite merrily. It shocked me and I lashed out at it. I was relieved that it flew off, a little dizzy perhaps but it flew away. I didn't want to kill something inside one of the holiest temples in India! |
"So do you know why this the only temple dedicated to Brahma?" asked Dev again before revealing the legend. The story goes that whilst Brahma's wife Savitri was away (on business I expect) he invited a local tribal girl to take her place in an important ritual. When she returned and heard of his betrayal the scorned Savitri cursed him with all her might. Falling over himself for forgiveness Brahma agreed to her demands, of which one was that he was only permitted to have one temple and one temple only dedicated to him. |
Despite the smell of manure and the biblical swarm of flies I was by now working up quite an appetite. When we passed a busy little cafe making a roaring trade in deep fried snacks I had a desperate urge for some samosa. Unfortunately we didn't have time to stop and "do lunch" as Dev's brief was to take us down to the ghats. We followed him at some speed down the hill, turning right and then down steps that led to the Brahma ghat. Pushkar has in total 52 ghats surrounding the lake created by the petals from the hands of Brahma. Similarly to Varanasi pilgrims come here to bathe in its holy waters and wash away their sins. |
The tranquil day dream was interrupted when Dev shouted over to me "Your shoes, your shoes are on the ghat steps!" "Shit" I thought. That was a serious tourist faux pas. "Sorry!" I called out. |
As we were about to leave he lead us to a small stall where someone was collecting money for a school project. "If you would like to donate something to charity then please do it here. These people are real." He then stepped onto a little soapbox to make us realise how poor everyone was here and how wealthy we tourists actually are, even if we don't realise it. "Give what you are happy to give" he said. After his plea I was about to donate 450 rupees. |
Instead of just dropping it into a collection tin and walking away I had to fill in a form which including supplying my address, which of course I filled in with vagueness of somewhere in North Wales. In return for my donation and my personal details I received an official receipt. "Are you happy?" asked Dev. "Are you happy ?" I returned. "I'm happy if your happy" he parried. "I'm happy you're happy" I volleyed back. What a bizarre conversation we were having. I half expected him to return with "I'm happy you're happy that I happy with you being happy" The truth was I wasn't especially happy. I had this nagging suspicion that there was something underhand going on. It all felt a little odd and in the back of my head I wondered what had I signed for? At least my "Donald Duck" signature won't give them access to any of my bank accounts! |
Anyway, other than cow pats there were plenty of gift shops here selling all the traditional Rajasthani nick-nacks that we tourists love to buy. We didn't have much time to shop, in fact we didn't have any time at all because Dev was walking at quite a pace. I'm sure I was annoying him slightly because I kept on stopping to take a photograph. We were essentially walking behind the ghats and every now and again we would catch a glimpse of the water. |
The spirit of Hanuman, the monkey god, was certainly present down these steps as they observed everyone who passed with and an intimidating look. |
I was shaken from my open-mouthed trance when I heard a lot of shouting in the distance. I had fallen behind so I briskly caught up with Julie just in case things kicked off. I needn't have been so alarmed as all the commotion was coming from a group of demonstrating elder statesmen marching up Sadar Bazaar in a political rally. Dev didn't stop to explain what it was all about. We were on a march of our own. |
We had arrived a little too early for Sanjey and the mini bus (surprise surprise!) so we browsed a few of the stalls near our pick-up point. |
Before we went mad and bought ourselves a colourful Rajasthani turban Sanjey arrived with the minibus. We headed out of Pushkar meandering over the hills and down the other side into neighbouring Ajmer. As if to rival Pushkar, Ajmer boasts India's holiest Muslim site, the Dargah Sharif, tomb of a sufi saint Khwaja Moinuddin. |
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Unfortunately when we walked up to the open kitchen we really didn't like what we saw. It was as if they weren't expecting any guests. They hurried to put the lights on and fire up the deep fat fryers as we were walking towards them. "It doesn't look very clean does it?" said Carol. She and Julie decided to skip lunch. I remember reading somewhere that a veg samosa was one of the safest foods you could eat from a dodgy looking place. As long as the oil is hot enough to kill any germs. True or not it made sense so Rob and I went for the veg samosa. |
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They were astonishingly tasty given our low expectations but they weren't exactly piping hot. I must admit I was worried that I had just swallowed a gastric time-bomb. | |
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"I'm going to be pebble dashing the toilet later!" I joked. Julie just rolled her eyes, more in disappointment of my crudeness I think. |
To compensate for not spending on their food we browsed their shop and bought a couple of homemade paper notebooks and a calendar with a print of Ganesh in different poses for every month of the year. I particularly liked the August Ganesh. We took another two and a half hours of driving to get to our final destination for the day, a small town called Deogarh. It stood a small distance away from the N8 expressway. I had already read about the hotel tonight and was looking forward to staying here. |
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It was a 17th century Rajput palace now converted into a Heritage hotel. We could see the commanding hilltop fort from the expressway and began to feel a great deal of excitement. |
We were certainly given the red carpet treatment on our arrival with a shower of marigold petals and a tikki placed between our eyes. "Namaste" they warmly welcomed us. "Namaste" we replied now familiar with the greeting. Rob handed over the accommodation and meal vouchers and we were shown to our rooms. We followed a member of staff who took us through the wonderfully painted gateway and into the inner courtyard. |
The door through to the shower room was so low even Julie had to duck to walk through, and she's only 5ft 2in, but once inside steps lead down to a huge open wet room. It had a certain public convenience charm to it but at least it was functional. |
We didn't know at the time but Rob & Carol's room was even more charming than ours. | ||
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In
fact it was one of the rooms chosen by the hotel to have displayed in
their brochure. (Room No.- 235 Kanwar Ji Ro Ghoomato) |
It was almost sunset so after booking a "head & shoulder" massage we went exploring. |
We were already on the top floor so the flight of steps that lead up from our level brought us onto the roof. We strolled amongst the palatial onion domes, making our way to the eastern edge where the view over the rooftops of Deogarh and outwards to a hill top fort was simply breathtaking in the glow of the setting sun. We met another couple wandering the rooftops who were doing a similar journey to ours but in reverse. They had began in Mumbai and had stayed at the Lake Palace in Udaipur last night. They enthused about the sheer opulence of the hotel in the lake which raised our anticipation as we were due to stay there tomorrow. |
It would have to go a long way to beat the whole ambience of Deogarh Mahal; it was pretty special. We continued our stroll around and from this vantage point we looked down at the open air restaurant where we were due to eat later. |
As the sky darkened the palace looked even more impressive lit up. We fell through a warren of staircases and corridors in a self-guided mystery tour aiming for the hotel's spa. |
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We had twenty minutes to find it before our head massage appointment. I don't know how we did it but we stumbled across the spa just in time. |
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This was a far cry from the clinical surgery-style spa at Khajuraho. Here the reception room was pleasantly decorated, the air was filled with a lovely fragrance and ambient music set the mood for relaxation. |
Our masseurs arrived to collect us. Julie went one way with her female masseur and I went another with a male masseur. I have to say that I received the best massage ever. He focused first on the lower back applying deep pressure that instantly relaxed me. The strength he used was perfect. He then concentrated on the head and shoulders with his powerful hands which sent me into a world of my own. The thirty minutes were up far too soon. I felt so chilled that I could hardly walk. A few minutes later Julie returned to the reception room with a similarly blissful feeling, although her experience was slightly tarnished as her masseur had a bad habit of clearing her throat, which was off putting. Her session was also interrupted when the masseur answered her mobile phone halfway through. And finally, Julie felt a little exposed as she ended up sitting topless for her head massage. Despite all that she thoroughly enjoyed it and was aglow with floppy loveliness when she walked through. All we needed now was for someone to carry us back to our room. |
There
was an evening of traditional Rajasthani dance in the inner courtyard
beginning at 7pm but first we needed to tame down our oiled up hair. We
looked more than just windswept we looked like we'd been blown through
a hedge by a hurricane. |
Hair
combed, looking near respectable, we arrived half way through the performance.
The scene was beautifully set with large cauldrons of fire creating an atmosphere of being around a camp fire in the middle of the Rajasthani desert. It was a perfect setting. Two musicians played a fabulous tune as three women spun and weaved their way around the courtyard, balancing objects on their heads and giving us hand gestures to decipher. |
Many of the routines were familiar after the show we had seen in Delhi but tonight's performance had greater authenticity. | ||
They were also a little more daring. The "build a huge tower of baskets then go spinning like a dervish" was spiced up. |
They set alight the top basket to make it much more exciting to watch. Once the show was over most guests went to the rooftop terrace for their evening meal but Julie and I retired to our room for a quick shower and a costume change. Arriving fashionably late, we made an entrance swooning elegantly down a staircase from the highest rooftops. |
Julie had read the hotel's literature where it said that 80% of the hotel staff are local from Deogarh. It also reminded you to be patient if some had poor English skills. The waiter who served us had a reasonably good grasp of the Queen's English but he did finish each and every sentence with a "Yes, Please" which was quite funny. He came to take our order. "Yes please?" he asked. "Can we have the Adrakwali Gobhi?" "Yes please" "Then the Pudinewali Macchli, the Paneer Makkanwala and the Dal Bati Churma" "Yes please, Yes please, Yes please" he confirmed each dish. He was quite nervous which was very sweet. |
Across on the opposite side of the courtyard we could see a section of the palace sparkling in the spotlight. "I bet he's in there." I said "the maharaji of Mewar" The music continued from downtown Deogarh and the food continued to arrive in the form of a seriously sweet dessert called Churma a flaky bread bound together with ghee and sugar or was it sugar bound together with butter and bread. Swallowing had never felt so comforting. The whole setting was just marvellous, we didn't want the evening to end. We could have sat here all night but as the staff we still at our service so we decided we should call it a night; we were the only couple left. We retired to our room, lit a few candles, and then fell fast asleep. |
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