Keep Calm and Carry Ohm

23/11/08 Day 10 - Jaipur

Breakfast this morning was another opportunity to sample exciting new dishes. A potato croquette the shape of a cricket ball called Aloo Bonda and a lentil and rice dish called Khichdi were both delicious.

That wasn't all I ate of course. The usual dal sambar, idli, paratha, pakoras also filled my plate. To round it off nicely a bowl of Khir the super sweet cardamom infused rice pudding was just sublime. That was a good start to the day!

We had an early 8:30am pick up today as our guide for the day, Paresh, met us at the hotel's reception.

It was a beautiful day today and already felt as if it was going to be the hottest so far. Paresh said that it was actually a lot cooler today. It had reached as high as 38C only a fortnight ago! We were so glad we had timed our visit right. That type of temperature would be unbearable.

Then at the Badi Chaupar crossroads we turned left and pulled over.

At first I couldn't see why but that was because we were too close to notice that we were parked outside the pink city's most famous pink attraction, the Hawa Mahal.

This reminded me of when we stepped out of Westminster tube station in London and Julie asked "So where's Big Ben then?" We were actually standing at the foot of it!

It was the same today because to get a better view of this incredible structure we had to cross the road to the opposite side.

It was buit in 1799 by Sawai Pratap Singh the maharaja of Jaipur.

Translated as the 'Palace of Winds' the Hawa Mahal wasn't so much a palace in its own right but an extension to the city palace's harem. Behind its elaborate facade ladies of the court would overlook the busy streets below without being seen.

The rows upon rows of latticed bay windows each beneath a dome created a mesmerising sight. It was quite an amazing design, like a sandcastle made from a fancy jell mould.

Although five tiers high it was only the width of a hallway.

We returned to the minibus and continued on our way through the old city.

Along the way we passed a hive of activity outside a milk market. Paresh asked Sanjey our driver to pull over for us to have better look.

It was interesting to watch the customers shoving their fingers into the large milk churns and sniffing them to test the freshness.

"This is where your hotel gets its milk from" said Paresh.

My stomach churned. "I am joking of course" he added.

We left the pink city through Joriwar Singh Gate and headed out of Jaipur on the road to Amber.

As we sped past an amazing floating palace in the middle of a lake Paresh assured us that we would be returning for a closer look later so we could all stop trying desperately to get a photo out of the window!

We soon found ourselves climbing up the rugged Aravali hillside that surrounded Jaipur and then through gates that breached the boundary walls of Amber.

These walls were very reminiscent of the Great Wall of China as it snaked its way out of sight.

Paresh said that they are hoping to have the entire 10km walls open to the public soon so that one could walk the whole circuit around Amber.

"In this heat?" remarked Julie.

We were on our way to visit the famous Amber fort but our first glimpse was quite disappointing.

High on a ridge we could see fortified ramparts and whilst being in an impressive mountain top location it didn't look like anything special.

Fortunately it turned out not to be the main featured attraction but was called Jaigarh fort. It over looked and protected the citadel below.

Our eyes then saw the spectacular sight of the Amber fort.

The massive complex of buildings clung onto the hillside, gradually following the ridge down to the town of Amber.

The sandy colour made it look much different to any other fort we had visited on our journey and the open space of the dried up Maota Lake made it appear as if it stood in the middle of a desert landscape.

It certainly had an Arabic feel to it.

Established by Man Singh I in 1592 the fort palace became the capital of his kingdom.

Whilst being the ruler of his own domain he was also a general in Akbar's army. It was interesting to learn how the Mughal Empire ruled through its alliances with the chieftans and maharajis.

During the 17th century the fort was expanded by Jai Singh I and much of what we see today dates back to this period. Strangely however, after all that effort, within sixty years they had moved the capital to Jaipur.

This included an 11am curfew when they down trunks and trundle their way back home in Jaipur.

The brightly painted elephants followed each other, tail to trunk, in packs of three, through Suraj Pol, the large sun gates of Amber Fort.

They then continued in file to the far right corner where they off loaded their passengers onto a tall platform and then return back down the way they came with an empty basket.

It was obviously just a one way ticket not a return.

Rob and Carol weren't long behind us. They got off their elephant without incident and joined us in the centre of the courtyard.

There was a lot of work going on here. Once again women in colourful clothes were carrying supplies on their heads to various parts of the fort where the men mostly stood and watched.

The entire fort appeared to be undergoing a make-over.

Looking at photographs of the fort in the guide book one could tell immediately that the outside had been scrubbed clean. Pollution had left its dark mess on the walls and especially the several domes. They now look as good as they probably did when Jan Singh I cast his eyes over them.

Although apparently the renovations aren't to everyone's liking. Some prefer the historical to remain untouched and they do have a point.

Paresh began talking about the history of the fort, about the Kachhawaha Rajputs but I was too pre-occupied with my camera following the trail of the lady labourers to listen to him.

They all seemed to follow each other up several flights of steps, across a balcony and then inside the perimeter wall.

I found it hard work standing still in this heat but some of the women were wearing sweaters!

I have to confess I found them captivating, they had a certain elegance to them.

Perhaps it was the contrast between their vibrant colour and beauty with the grey dullness of the construction work!?!

After Paresh had finished telling us about Harkha, the Princess of Amber, wife of Akbar, mother of Shah Jahan, we walked up towards a flight of steps to the silver doors of the Shila Mata temple.

This was the family temple dedicated to their chosen deity, the goddess Kali, the goddess of victory.

We didn't go inside but apparently we could have seen "pillars like banana trees" and a stone representation of the goddess Kali.

Instead we followed Paresh into the adjacent courtyard.

From here the scale of the Jaleb Chowk courtyard below could be seen.

It was also the best viewpoint to appreciate the stunning scenery of the Aravali hills.

We were undoubtedly in a spectacular setting.

The great wall snaking its way up the craggy rocks and along the ridge was absolutely wonderful.

There was another hall that did have ornate escalloped arches but the Sattais Katcheri was cordoned off due to maintenance work.

Apparently it was where the king's administration sat to count his money, recording the revenue transactions.

It was probably the most lavish accountant's office in the world!

I wouldn't mind spending my nine to five here.

The architecture of the Sattais Katcheri was most exquisite; definitely drawn from the realms of fairy tale palaces.

Despite being the fourth fort in four days it certainly wasn't a case of "if you've seen one you've seen them all".

Amber fort had quickly become my personal favourite and we hadn't finished seeing all of it yet.

"The best is yet to come" teased Paresh.

Its facade was also undergoing renovations.

The restored paintwork was quite noticeably brighter and more vivid.

When we walked through Ganesh's gate we emerged into the pleasure garden of the kings, Aram Bagh. We firstly walked to the Sukh Niwas where Paresh explained (in detail) the ingenious use of the natural water flow to create an air conditioning effect.

Pieces of silver and glass covered the entire surface in beautiful floral designs.

Tiny mirrors embedded in the mosaic ceiling were placed with the intention of recreating the starlit night sky and produced the most romantic of private chambers to entertain.

Part of this fantasy palace was also Jas Mandir, the hall of private audience and Jai Mandir, both were equally decorated with mirrors.

We sadly couldn't walk around the interior for security reasons.

I don't know if was to stop vandalism or not but it was a real shame.

We had to be content with sticking our heads in through the doorways and creaking our necks to see the ceilings.

We continued to the fourth, the last, and the oldest section of the Amber fort.

It was the original fort palace built in 1592 by Man Singh I. It then became the zenana, the women's quarters, the harem.

The restoration work continued here as artists painted frescoes over the faint traces of the original artwork.

Apparently this would be a meeting point where the king could mingle with his wives and concubines.

It stood out like a glowing heavenly portal as the sun illuminated the marble arches and pillars.

This had such a feeling of a medina as we browsed around the small market stalls.

The alleyway gradually brought us back down to the lower level of Jaleb Chowk.

I could have spent all day here but of course Jaipur had a lot more for us to see.

Rob and Carol joined us in the jeep as we rattled our way down the hill through the old town, passing along the way three spires of a temple which I hadn't noticed on the way up.

I scoured the guidebooks for temples in Amber and only found mention of a striking temple called Jagat Shiromani but I don't believe this was it.

At the end of the road, Sanjey was waiting for us with the minibus and we drove back towards the city.

As we left the hills behind we reached the picturesque sight of Jal Mahal, a palace that appeared to be floating in the middle of the shimmering Man Sagar lake.

It was built in the mid-18th century by king Madho Singh I and inspired by his childhood memories of time spent at Jag Niwas, the Lake Palace, in Udaipur. We pulled over so that we could get out and take some photographs.

Apparently the lake is often dry during the summer months but the winter monsoon brings with it plenty of water to fill the lake and produce this gorgeous view.

It wasn't that she had spoilt my perfectly framed shot, it was just that she turned out to be terribly unphotogenic. It would have been a great photo if she hadn't sulked her way across with such a stroppy face.

It was obviously a converted agricultural trailer tarted up with some golden tin foil.

Whilst we were on the topic of weddings Paresh said "This is a very auspicious time to get married, all the nine planets are aligned."

Astrologists are held in such high regard in India and are consulted from the match making to the wedding dates to ... well ... practically everything. It's all written in the stars! In contrast the horoscopes in the UK are nothing more than a joke.

Back on the bus we next had the obligatory shop stop with a visit to a gem store.

Jaipur is renowned across India for its jewellery but the highlight of my personal visit was not the maharaji's treasure chest of emerald and rubies on display upstairs but the spectacular colour hair of one of the gemstone polishers downstairs.

The outrageous carrot top look was achieved by dyeing the hair with henna which starts of jet black but over time it oxidises to this shocking shade of orange.

It looked so hilarious and so inevitable I wondered why anyone bothered?

We drove back within the pink city walls and to its heart, the City Palace complex.

As we entered through a beautiful ornate Virendra Pol gate the feeling of being somewhere special was heightened by a swirling flock of birds.

The moment was so perfect, it gave me the goosebumps. It was like a scene from a film,

"Cue white doves... and cut."

Only they were pigeons and I was sitting in a minibus not riding truimphantly on elephant-back.

We were on our way first to Jantar Mantar, a huge astronomical observatory built by an amateur astronomer who happened to be the king, Maharaja Sawai Jai Singh II. (He built five across India including the one in Delhi.)

A little further on there was a much more impressive Samrat Yantra.

This sun dial was up to 23 metres high and whilst not as accurate as its smaller neighbour it held far more interest.

I had to resist the urge to open the doors at its base and climb up the staircase to the top. I'm sure the 75ft would have given the best view over the city of Jaipur.

Fortunately Julie was with me and kept me in check and out of jail.

There were sixteen different instruments collected here in what was part royal observatory and part art installation. The most unique instrument was the Jai Prakash Yantra.

It consisted of two hemispheres cut into the ground to map out the cosmos. It was an aid to create a calendar with several markers laid out to measure the months, the equinox, the signs of the zodiac and many more.

It was such a strange sight. I had never seen such a method of calculating anything from the sun's rays.

Some have suggested that this was invented by Sawai Jai Singh II himself.

These instruments point towards their relevant constellations and are used for planetary measurements, the basis of all horoscopes.

From within the grounds of Jantar Mantar we could see across to the City Palace and the high-rise Chandra Mahal, the ancestral residence of the Maharaja.

As is tradition the flags were flying to let the public know that the current Maharaja of Jaipur, Bhawani Singh, was home.

These days the maharajas have no real powers and after the abolition of princes was passed by Indira Gandhi in 1980 they have no automatic source of income either.

They now have to work for it like any other poor millionaire. The Maharaja of Jaipur runs many heritage hotels for his financial survival.

We entered into a large courtyard with a charming little palace in its centre.

The Mubarak Mahal, also known as the Welcome Palace, was built as late as the 19th century despite looking centuries older. It had attractive scalloped arches and ornate carved screens.

Inside however it was no longer a reception hall but a textile museum.

I tried hard to find the tunics and saris worn by royals interesting but I couldn't hide my boredom as Paresh went to great lengths to explain each thread in detail.

What on earth was he thinking?

It must have taken considerable effort to transport them over to the UK.

I wonder what Queen Victoria though when the Indian prince arrived with these beautiful silver jars, only to siphon out the murky water and return home with his precious urns. It wasn't when Queen Victoria said "We are not amused" was it?

From the Diwan-i-Khas we could see the Chandra Mahal towering above all else.

So we walked through a small archway with the funny sounding name Riddhi-Siddhi Pol. (It sounded like the "Ready Steady Go" gate!)

We raced through and into yet another courtyard.

This one went by the delightful name of Pritam Chowk, the court of the beloved.

The most attractive feature of the court of the beloved were four beautifully decorated doorways.

Each one represented a season, although I couldn't tell which was which.

We walked around the courtyard briefly before returning to the hall of private audiences and weddings.

Our final attraction was a large reception hall where the Maharaja would entertain visiting dignitaries. The room was filled with paintings of all the Kachwaha rulers since 1700s.

Paresh told us that Madho Singh II, (the maharaja who brought the silver urns to London), was a champion polo player.

He died in the saddle at the age of 72 whilst playing polo in the UK.

We left the city palace through Udai Pol another highly decorated gate. The artwork in the alcove of a maharaja fully dressed in his traditional attire made this gate quite unique.

There was a small canon on either side of the arch, a reminder of all the battles of the past. Although I think the maharaja's of Rajasthan were more masters of diplomacy as they held on to their power through alliances.

Sanjey and his minibus was there waiting for us near a market place.

Looking at all the fresh fruit and vegetables was making me feel hungry.

Yes, that's right, a real aluminium bucket. A small ornamental bucket, the sort you would pot some plants in.

"I'm surprised they didn't give you a spade instead of a spoon!" joked Julie.

Despite looking most unappetising Carol ate more than we expected.

We left hoping we were on our way back to the hotel. Julie could hear the swimming pool beckoning but first we had the "bonus" of another stopping in a textile store.

We were given a demonstration on how they block print the fabrics with vegetable dyes. It was bordering on being almost interesting.

We went inside their very large shop and had a look around just to be polite. Unlike all the other forced shopping trips we actually bought something here. A couple of small prints of camels and elephants, a shawl and just as we were out the door he threw in a bargain we couldn't resist, 300 rupees for a large bedspread.

It was only 4pm but today had been quite a long and tiring day. Back at the hotel Julie was so relieved to find the swimming pool area was empty.

Within five minutes she in the refreshing cool waters gently doggy paddling up and down. (perhaps it was the breaststroke) I sat pool side with my pale puppet legs dangling in the water.

Before Julie had managed a length and a half we were challenged by hotel staff, "Are you hotel guests?" he asked.

"Yes" I replied a little gruffly.

"What is your room number?" obviously not believing me, "And your name?"

Instead of a girly pattern I had my name, or at least I hoped it was my name, scrawled across by palm. I did worry slightly that it could have said "tosser" or something equally as derogatory like camel shagger.

The first thing I did when we returned back to the pool side bar was ask our bar tender to read my palm.

He answered "Kholin".

Either he was part of the scam or was pretty much how my name is spelt in Hindi script. Or as Julie surmised, perhaps Kholin is actually Hindi for camel shagger!

Anyway, regardless of all that, I loved my beautified right hand, no matter what it said.

We sat watching the poolside activity as the hotel prepared for this evening's wedding reception. The thrones were a particularly ostentatious touch.

After last night's experience we knew not to sit here for three hours waiting for someone to turn up so we moved on to the bar area that fell off the main foyer.

They had laid on some entertainment but to be honest it would have been better if they hadn't bothered.

They were from Romania and went by the name of the Marius Duo. The name didn't inspire but at least they didn't have much to live up to.

Now I pride myself on my eclectic taste in music, of my exceptionally broad spectrum of influences, from thrash metal Metallica to classical Andrea Bocelli and everything in between. If it's "good" then I can always appreciate something of a talent in any genre but these guys were awful, seriously shit awful.

If you closed your eyes you'd think you were at a karaoke night in an asylum. How in the name of the goddess of music did they secure this contract? (Of course this my personal opinion and in no way represents the view of the Rajputana Sheraton and their associated tone deaf representatives)

Just outside the entrance to the hotel was Sundeh Band a wedding marching band blasting out a great tune.

His following posse were just "going for it" with absolute abandon, dancing like there was no tomorrow.

Their joy was contagious as we stood and watched the sheer exuberance of the wedding party.

I don't dance but even I felt like diving into the middle of them throw my hands in the air and frenetically jumping for joy.

It was such a wonderful experience to be amongst the celebrations.

We couldn't bare it any more so we returned to the wedding reception where the family photographs were being taken.

Once a again I joined the cameras down at the front to take a photo of the happy couple. They looked absolutely superb in their traditional wedding attire.

With 80% of marriages still arranged in India it's strange to think that perhaps our newlyweds had only met a few times prior. They did look a little bemused but they equally looked very happy.

It was a little later than usual but now was my favourite time of the day, supper time!

We had a 10:15pm reservation at the hotel's Peshwari restaurant and were shown to the best table in the house, the one with a window onto the theatre of the tandoor kitchen.

We ordered our choices and then watched attentively as the chef skewered huge chunks of paneer and placed them in the tandoor oven. He then scooped up a green mix for the spinach kebab and patted it tightly along the meter long iron skewers. Then finally he got a ball of dough, beat it out into a flat disc and then slapped it on the clay wall of the tandoor oven.

When it all arrived I almost popped with excitement. I had never anticipated my food more eagerly!

The Dal Bukhara was gorgeous, rich and sumptuous, every mouthful scooped up with a thin naan bread was so comforting.

The spinach kebabs were disappointingly bland but the tandoori paneer were a revelation. It wasn't just their large size but their sublime flavour.

"I'm going to have to build a tandoor oven in the back yard now!"

We ended the evening back in the lobby bar giving the atrocious duo another chance which they failed to take. Retiring to our room I soon drifted to sleep whilst Julie sat up watching a TV programme called "India's Best Weddings".