Jodhpur

I've retrofitted previous blogs with pics, if you want to have a look at what I've been looking at with my eyes. Click the photos to make them huge.

When me and Graham planned this trip, we fancied the look of Alang. Alang is the world's second largest shipbreaking yard and got in a touch of bother a few years back when a US newspaper did a bit of an expose on it, finding that the yard was handling radioactive materials and particularly dangerous pollutants that, strictly, it should not have been. This appealed to us greatly. Unfortunately we spent a touch too long in Goa and also failed to get any response from the yard as to a visit. I don't think they take too kindly to whitey's coming and having a look any more, so we decided against it. We also decided against spending the best part of 3 days travelling to Jodhpur by train from Goa, so we cheated and flew there.

BOSH! This was the India I was expecting! Or more realistically, the urban India I was expecting. A cacophony of 2-stroke engines, horns, shouting, barking - life. Teeming with life everywhere. Narrow alleys, cows, kids, hawkers, temples, markets, mad dogs and - for 5 days - two Englishmen (and more, it would transpire).  We checked in to Govind Hotel, run by the super-friendly Jaggi and his more uncommunicative son Sohel - why speak when a wobble of the head will suffice for any possible answer?

Jodhpur - home of the famous posh riding trousers - is dominated by Meherangarh Fort which towers above the city on a rocky outcrop. It'll be called Jodhpur Fort from now on, for ease of typing.  We took our time acclimatising, retiring from the midday sun on the shaded hotel's roof terrace, which had a magnificent view of one half of the fort and three fuck-off huge billboards advertising cement, some diamante-type jewellery called Tashinq and something in Hindi that was all squiggles. Shortly after ordering a couple of cool drinks the local inhabitants came and said hello. A family of inquisitive chipmunks had set up home on the roof too, and skittered about the bamboo fencing, picking up dropped bits of food and gnawing on wood. Lovely little things they were, and we quickly, obviously named them Alvin, Simon and Theodore. More wildlife was abundant in the sky, as some hawks were riding the thermals and generally looking deadly. The hawks came closer from time to time and then moved off before one eventually landed on the roof and took a look around. Quite the beast. It left again after a matter of moments, circled then dived and picked something up. Something squealing a bit. A bit like a chipmunk. Looking round, sure enough the fluffy little tail of one of either Alvin, Simon or Theodore could be seen hanging from the hawk's talons. The hawk then came to rest on a roof not too far away and ripped the little fella limb from limb.

Which is good, because I hated that fucking shitty cartoon series as a kid. The theme tune was akin to raking your fingers nails down a blackboard.

We set off on a trek without any particular destination. Ambling through the hustle and bustle of lanes and alleys. The traffic was mental. More mental than anything I had experienced before. Whilst roads are divided in to two sides, very little is adhered to. Add to that no wing mirrors and a heady mix of cars, trucks, tuk-tuks, pedestrians and cyclists and crossing the road was a little fraught. Luckily as we disappeared further and further in to the old city the traffic disappeared and the most worrying things we crossed were angry dogs and groups of kids wanting photos taken. It was quite lovely. Jodhpur is also known as the Blue City, as many of the buildings are painted shades of blue. Initially this blue denoted the houses of Brahmins (one of the Indian castes), but as time went by people copied the colours as it was believed blue kept the houses cooler and warded off insects. Walking through the mediaeval street patterns, passing blue washed walls and ancient looking doors provided a photo opportunity on each turn of a corner. It was ace. I may have become slightly addicted to photos of doors and windows, just a warning there for you all.

Wandering aimlessly paid off handsomely, rewarding us wholly unexpectedly with a view over the old city. It was simply breath-taking. We just laughed at what was before us it was that brilliant. Unbelievable stuff and the pics really don't do it justice. A memory that I'll hold dear until the Alzheimer's takes it.

The view we found.

M. Khan is bent.

More view.

We walked on and found ourselves at the foot of the fort's walls, high up on the side of the rock it stands on. In front of us was another view, out across 'modern' Jodhpur, and a path leading up to a temple (in obligatory blue). The way down, and back to the hotel, seemed to offer two routes. Setting off we'd barely got 10 metres when a dog stood up and growled. Which was fine, we'd been getting that all the way along. Generally they just moved off once you got closer. We got closer. It stood it's ground. Closer still we got. Perhaps if someone was observing two little dots on the side of fort from the roof of the hotel, they may just have seen these dots make quite a quick turnabout and head rapidly away from the there seemingly intended direction, as a smaller dot chased them.

The rabid helldog came bounding towards growling loudly and aggressively (not barking, that's just for show). Armed with nothing more than soft, chewable flesh we retreated sharpish as many before us have done on the slopes of the fort (which has never been taken by the way). We got two large, cold beers in when we got back to the hotel.

A door and a window. Two of many. 

 Door (with fort in background)! Window!

Door! Window!

Friendliest dog we encountered.

No ice cream today kids.

That is a pair of knickers draped seductively across the footplate.

Rabid dog temple.

The Fort was our next trip out. It is an amazing sight, both from afar and up close. Huge walls towering way in to the sky, topped with ornate carved living quarters, courtyards and...er..other fort-y bits. We took up the audio guide and scuttled through ahead of a large surrender of French. The chaps at the audio guide booth had told the fort was shutting at 4pm and as it was 3pm could we "...be quick please sir". We had 60 minutes to explore the pinnacle of Maharajan architecture (I've possibly made this style up). Luckily, skipping every other sound snippet on the tour halved the time it took and, I feel, did not lessen the tour nor my interest. On the way out we passed 3 BMWs on podiums. It seems we were being kicked out so that BMW could launch their 6 series.

A junction box and Meherangarh Fort 

Fort wall AND A WINDOW!

Man in a window...

WINDOWS! *spaff*

Later, back at the hotel, a proto-backtwatter Brit informed us that it was a charity event, being hosted by the current Maharaja for some sick kids hospital. He also told us that Sting was performing at the event. Imagine my abject disappointment at being in the same city as Sting.

Upon further research, I found that Sting was performing at the first ever "One World Retreat", arranged by Maharaja Gaj Singh II to raise funds for his Indian Head Injury Foundation. He set up IHIF following a polo accident from which is son is still recovering. It was to be a three day event including an auction of some of the Maharaja's royal artefacts, and attended by those who could afford the $30,000 minimum 'suggested donation' fee (you could also donate $60,000 for a proper VVIP experience). Among those said to be attending were people I would like to have seen suffer head injuries - Prince Andrew and his former wife Sarah Ferguson.  Anyway, the do was invite only, so I couldn't get in.

The One World Retreat - alongside a Sting gig - also featured a series of "thought sessions" entitled "A Beautiful Mind" lead by neuroscientists and philosophers (...riiiiight) which "will see participants consider ways to bring down the alarming numbers of head injuries in India and suggest effective, post-rehabilitation measures with some real life case studies [hope yet for the clobbering of Andrew and Sarah then]". I thought I'd help them out:

i) reduce the number of poor people on the roads so that we, the rich, can no longer plough through them;
ii) greater use of private jets by the rich, tying in with i);
iii) supply everyone with a BMW 6-series yah; and
iv) let the poor wear cake helmets, or something.

On our final day in Jodhpur we went on a Bishnoi tour. The Bishnoi's are the original tree-huggers; 363 of them were decapitated when they tried to prevent the Maharaja from chopping down trees. The Bishnoi do not use any part of a living tree, and the Maharaja lopping down a load was seen as a an act of evil. There are about 10,000 of them in India, they are veggie, teetotal and they drink opium tea. Which was on offer on the tour. Having a great interest in tree conservation we signed up immediately.

It got us out of the city I guess. Outside of the city (i.e. in the countryside) it was flat and arid and pretty scruffy. We stopped to look at gazelles. We stopped to look at a tree. We stopped to look at a pond. We stopped at the Bishnoi temple, which was home to trees, chipmunks, cows in a building that looked unfinished and parakeets. The temple was small but behind it was a one under construction, a bit grander and fancier and full of pigeon shit. Then we stopped to look at some pottery and blockprinting. Or rather watch an apathetic display of pottery and then encouraged to buy some and then watch some blockprinting for all of 3 minutes before being shown some to buy for 15 minutes. Then we stopped for some lunch at which we were watched throughout the meal by a local staring intently, then shown some weaving and given the opportunity to buy it... alarms bells rung following my only other encounter with weaving (for those with poor memories or may have missed it, here it is. It's a bit long).

And that was pretty much Jodhpur. The city itself was ace. Loved it. I could have spent a week just getting lost in alleyways and taking endless photos, but it was time to move on. Jaipur was the next stop!

Jodhpur Market with clock tower