Most of the day we spend watching everyday Jaisalmer from our rooftop perch. Baje is ever ready with masala tea and cheese and tomato sandwiches; he's singularly hospitable. Mid-afternoon we're off to the railway station to catch the train to Jodhpur--a new experience for us in India. We've opted for second class two tier/seat-berths, and it's challenging to find the right car, but as we're extra early, we zero in on what we think is the right spot, and settle in to wait for the doors to be opened. It's a terrifically long train, and there are lots of people on the platform, but the signage and announcements are in English as well as Hindi, so it's smooth going. It turns out our seats are not together, but we sit together anyway, in the hope that some kind soul will be willing to move. The tremendously rude passenger who turns out to be the legitimate occupant essentially flicks Andres away from his seat. Later I simply move to his "compartment" and we share his seat/berth. We have no plans to sleep since the train arrives at about 11pm, so there's plenty of room. We depart punctually, but within a half hour we've come to a full stop in the middle of the desert with rapidly dying daylight. There's a huge commotion at the side of the train, passengers are outside, and it's instant mayhem. Our kind neighbor, who has already explained that he is also travelling to Jodhpur with his wife and grown son(?), says there is a problem with a cow on the tracks. It sounds like it was lying on the tracks, presumably already dead, and its carcass is a drag under the carriage. Could be that, but honestly, we only really get that there is a cow involved, and it doesn't seem like we could have hit it, because we almost in the middle of this lengthy train. Passengers jump back on board, the train goes a short while but then stops again. Finally the issue appears to be resolved and we're off into the night shadows of the Rajasthani desert.
A train official comes through to check our tickets, and others around us explain that we've moved together from "seat 31"--and after much flipping through passenger lists and checking and rechecking our ticket and names, we're checked off and left with our new neighbors, a middle-aged couple who sit cross-legged on the berth opposite us. He speaks a smattering of English and is gracious, his wife is aloof and seems intimidated by us--all impressions. She is on the phone chitchatting with one person after another, intermittently playing music through her phone, lounging and laughing with her husband. Later they prepare chunks of coconut with little sugar balls and kindly offer us a generous helping. After this snack she dedicates herself to massaging her husband's arm with something that smells Tiger Balmish, and then begins clipping his fingernails. Back to the phone, more snacks and nibbles, and finally she begins making up the berth with the train provided linens. Meanwhile our upstairs berth occupant has shown up and gone straight to sleep. Preparations continue around us, people are slowly settling in for the night. This is a train to Delhi, and they won't see their destination til well after the sun rises. We, on the other hand, are trying to figure out how we'll know when we've arrived. Other than an estimated time of arrival, we have nothing! Announcements on the train are non-existent, and the stations we do stop at don't have easily found names--or they are only in Hindi. So Andres dozes off and I read until our neighbor asks to turn off the light.
I watch the night world go by. A solitary light, a noisy clanging at a railway crossing, a spray of lights in a station, but not much else. However, as we're clearly begin moving into an urban area, and the time is right, we see the lone station sign reading Jodhpur: we've reached our destination. Off the train and into the otherworld of the station. Hundreds of people are sleeping in the main hall of the station, with many hundreds more sleeping right outside. It's a nightmarish scene backlit by. hawkers scurrying into the stream of arriving passengers. Haggling back and forth we finally get into a tuk tuk which eventually delivers us to our hotel. We're in Jodhpur!
The trip to Jodhpur: https://photos.app.goo.gl/gVDYYWbVcneJtBdt7
We seem to be about the only people staying in the hotel, so have a quiet breakfast with a slew of serving people hovering around us. Then it's off to the town proper. We're a couple of kilometers outside the center. The Mehrangarh Fort looms above the so-called Blue City. Our tuk tuk delivers us to the entrance, but it's still a stiff uphill walk from there.
Mehrengarh is another stunning feat of towering architecture carved from and onto rock, begun in the second half of the 15th century by the Rathgore Rao Jodha., who had to forcibly remove the so-called Bird Hermit who lived on the crags. Not only is it a formidable building, but it showcases a range of interesting artifacts, including howdahs(elephant riding platforms), palanquins, royal cradles, furniture and weapons as well as finely detailed miniatures. At one of the gateways are the handprints of the many wives of the mid nineteenth century maharajah Singh who threw themselves on his funeral pyre. The beautifully decorated Flower Palace glitters and shines with color. The endless staircases and narrow passageways are dizzying, the history of the many generations of rulers and their respective feats even more so.
From the palace we walk down into the blue city--the older part of the town that borders the fort. Many buildings are indeed still painted blue, but sadly many are in wretched condition. Interest dictates our direction. The narrow streets are busy and clearly have designated sections: jewelry, shoes, housewares, textiles, sweets, all things Diwali(which will begin the following evening), and the impressive if somewhat scary firework and firecracker stands. The crowds grow incrementally larger as we get closer to the Sardar market, which rings the old clock-tower and is a veritable explosion of color, people, traffic and wares. Omelettes are cooked in a stall in one of the gateways, a Muslim man sells rings off a tray hung from his neck, women haggle fiercely over cloth, and lines of buyers form before trays of sweets covered with silver foil. It's a swirling madhouse with more to watch than we can take in!
The next morning we decide to check out the Rao Jodha Desert Park, which lies within sight of the fort. We walk the couple of trails they have, admire the views of the fort, and are surprised at the zip lines overhead. It's a nice change of pace from the crowded city, although once we're done, we head right back to the marketplace, standing and watching the world go by. We're shown into a spice shop, treated to a saffron/cinnamon/cardamon tea, and then escorted to a "friend's" shop to look over the allegedly hand-printed indigos.
That night the lights all over town are striking, both the electric multicolored flashing strings of lights, and the small clay bowls with wicks and oil. The crash and boom of fire crackers is rampant, and in fact wakes us up from time to time during the night.
From here, it's on to Udaipur, via the huge Jain temple at Ranakpur.
The fort at Jodhpur: https://photos.app.goo.gl/iqYCknmLsQYw5SAi6
Around town in Jodhpur: https://photos.app.goo.gl/7iR68MNT1QgDbYvp8
A train official comes through to check our tickets, and others around us explain that we've moved together from "seat 31"--and after much flipping through passenger lists and checking and rechecking our ticket and names, we're checked off and left with our new neighbors, a middle-aged couple who sit cross-legged on the berth opposite us. He speaks a smattering of English and is gracious, his wife is aloof and seems intimidated by us--all impressions. She is on the phone chitchatting with one person after another, intermittently playing music through her phone, lounging and laughing with her husband. Later they prepare chunks of coconut with little sugar balls and kindly offer us a generous helping. After this snack she dedicates herself to massaging her husband's arm with something that smells Tiger Balmish, and then begins clipping his fingernails. Back to the phone, more snacks and nibbles, and finally she begins making up the berth with the train provided linens. Meanwhile our upstairs berth occupant has shown up and gone straight to sleep. Preparations continue around us, people are slowly settling in for the night. This is a train to Delhi, and they won't see their destination til well after the sun rises. We, on the other hand, are trying to figure out how we'll know when we've arrived. Other than an estimated time of arrival, we have nothing! Announcements on the train are non-existent, and the stations we do stop at don't have easily found names--or they are only in Hindi. So Andres dozes off and I read until our neighbor asks to turn off the light.
I watch the night world go by. A solitary light, a noisy clanging at a railway crossing, a spray of lights in a station, but not much else. However, as we're clearly begin moving into an urban area, and the time is right, we see the lone station sign reading Jodhpur: we've reached our destination. Off the train and into the otherworld of the station. Hundreds of people are sleeping in the main hall of the station, with many hundreds more sleeping right outside. It's a nightmarish scene backlit by. hawkers scurrying into the stream of arriving passengers. Haggling back and forth we finally get into a tuk tuk which eventually delivers us to our hotel. We're in Jodhpur!
The trip to Jodhpur: https://photos.app.goo.gl/gVDYYWbVcneJtBdt7
We seem to be about the only people staying in the hotel, so have a quiet breakfast with a slew of serving people hovering around us. Then it's off to the town proper. We're a couple of kilometers outside the center. The Mehrangarh Fort looms above the so-called Blue City. Our tuk tuk delivers us to the entrance, but it's still a stiff uphill walk from there.
Mehrengarh is another stunning feat of towering architecture carved from and onto rock, begun in the second half of the 15th century by the Rathgore Rao Jodha., who had to forcibly remove the so-called Bird Hermit who lived on the crags. Not only is it a formidable building, but it showcases a range of interesting artifacts, including howdahs(elephant riding platforms), palanquins, royal cradles, furniture and weapons as well as finely detailed miniatures. At one of the gateways are the handprints of the many wives of the mid nineteenth century maharajah Singh who threw themselves on his funeral pyre. The beautifully decorated Flower Palace glitters and shines with color. The endless staircases and narrow passageways are dizzying, the history of the many generations of rulers and their respective feats even more so.
From the palace we walk down into the blue city--the older part of the town that borders the fort. Many buildings are indeed still painted blue, but sadly many are in wretched condition. Interest dictates our direction. The narrow streets are busy and clearly have designated sections: jewelry, shoes, housewares, textiles, sweets, all things Diwali(which will begin the following evening), and the impressive if somewhat scary firework and firecracker stands. The crowds grow incrementally larger as we get closer to the Sardar market, which rings the old clock-tower and is a veritable explosion of color, people, traffic and wares. Omelettes are cooked in a stall in one of the gateways, a Muslim man sells rings off a tray hung from his neck, women haggle fiercely over cloth, and lines of buyers form before trays of sweets covered with silver foil. It's a swirling madhouse with more to watch than we can take in!
The next morning we decide to check out the Rao Jodha Desert Park, which lies within sight of the fort. We walk the couple of trails they have, admire the views of the fort, and are surprised at the zip lines overhead. It's a nice change of pace from the crowded city, although once we're done, we head right back to the marketplace, standing and watching the world go by. We're shown into a spice shop, treated to a saffron/cinnamon/cardamon tea, and then escorted to a "friend's" shop to look over the allegedly hand-printed indigos.
That night the lights all over town are striking, both the electric multicolored flashing strings of lights, and the small clay bowls with wicks and oil. The crash and boom of fire crackers is rampant, and in fact wakes us up from time to time during the night.
From here, it's on to Udaipur, via the huge Jain temple at Ranakpur.
The fort at Jodhpur: https://photos.app.goo.gl/iqYCknmLsQYw5SAi6
Around town in Jodhpur: https://photos.app.goo.gl/7iR68MNT1QgDbYvp8
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