Wednesday 5th Feb

A lovely evening, sitting out in the garden enjoying s Chittagong peg of excellent local gin and tonic. The night air was cool, but a fire burned in an open brazier / fire pit and kept us warm. Dinner was a delicious tali followed by a cold rice pudding and a jalab.

A good night’s sleep followed and we arose at 6.30 for a good breakfast at 7.30. I had muesli, a cheese and chilli omelette and some toast. The weight is piling on! Then we drove to the Mehrangarh Fort which is situated on a red sandstone outcrop above the city. It is spectacular and I was itching to explore. Our guide seemed to take an eternity to get the tickets, but then we were off. This time Christine came as well. There is a lift to the top so the 2 claustrophobics went first with Christine as carer. It wasn’t too bad, but it was good to emerge blinking in the light t the top. The fort dates from around 1459 with more recent bits added and is quite stunning. Inside its boundaries there are several palaces known for their intricate carvings and expansive courtyards. We wandered through them taking pictures and admiring the incredible craftsmanship. We came out into a large courtyard with trees. It was very pleasant walking up through it and towards a Hindu temple at the far end. Here a priest was accepting offerings and putting bindis on foreheads. Worshippers were ringing bells and burning incense. The temple dates from about 1460.

We walked back in the warm sunshine and then back into the building to look at the displays of palanquins, howdahs, and armoury, before making our way down the steep road out of the fort,passing between the thick walls and numerous gates. We arrived in time at the place where we were meeting the others, but there was no sign of them. We went to sit in the sun and I went out to the car park, but still no sign. I wasn’t worried as I doubt if Mark would leave us, but I was puzzled. I went back up into the fort – still no sign. Eventually, half an hour later, they materialised from the lift. It seems that some of the halt and lame had taken a bit longer to go around the rooms – fair enough.

Back in the car park we got onto tuk-tuks and headed into the old blue city. I have observed before that there is something especially frightening about being driven by someone who has a firm belief in reincarnation and that fear does not dim with time. We careered down very narrow streets praying that thy were one way, but of course they weren’t. Passengers on motorbikes or in other tuk-tuks all but joined us in ours as we squeezed between them and shopfronts/walls and other impenetrable street furniture. At last we stopped outside a temple (and frankly I was prepared to make an offering to Shiva in thanks for sparing our lives)and we walked down into the textile part of the town and into a shop. SNAP. The trap shut and for the next two hours we saw some fabulous fabrics, but received unremitting sales patter. It was entertaining, but I confess I got bored and headed out to wander the back ways of the town. I encountered an elephant amongst other things and generally enjoyed dicing with death as motorbikes, tuk-tuks and other vehicles tried to take over my piece of road. The noise, colour, and smell are a heady mix and I just love it!

Christine ended up buying three beautiful pieces of cloth for what seemed a very good price and , no doubt, our guide got his commission.

Back in the tuk-tuks, we drove relentlessly towards Toorji’s step well built in the 1740s by the consort of the local maharaja so that the local women did not have so far to travel to get water. Recently it has been very well restored.

More tuk-tuk mayhem and we regained the calmer atmosphere of the coach which took us to a late lunch in an oasis of calm called the Kasa Bagh which was like a minor palace. The food was delicious and very reasonably priced, considering the grandeur of our location.

From there we drove to the Umaid Bhagwan Palace Museum, which is a fairly recently built palace. It is now part museum and part hotel. And to be honest wasn’t that interesting, but had fantastic views over the surrounding area and some quite interesting clocks and other domestic bric-à-brac from the last century.

We were glad to arrive back at our fabulous hotel and have shower and relax before joining the talented lady of the house in the garden as night fell. She was charming and obviously substantially wealthy as her husband is a talented horseman and plays polo. Other joined us and we enjoyed some G&Ts before going in to dinner. This time the chef wanted to give us his continental cooking. Frankly that man could have given us his Moon and minor planets cooking and I’d have eaten it and asked for more. His mushroom soup was delicious and the cheese steak (yes, steak) in a rich tomato sauce was wonderful. His chocolate brownie was darned good and all. Now we only have breakfast tomorrow to enjoy his amazing cooking! We must come back!

Friday 7th February

We had an early rise (6.00 a.m.) and breakfast at 6.30 as we had to be on the road by 7.00, so as to fit into the busy schedule of the demoiselle cranes that we were going to see. We drove across the desert to Kheecan an unremarkable village save that it is visited at this time of year by around 25,000 demoiselle cranes. They migrate here from Mongolia, one of the most hazardous migrations as they fly over the Himalayas. They come here to feed and then fly back Mongolia as the desert heats up in order to breed in the north.

We stopped briefly in what might have been an old quarry to se them on the ground and then we went into the outskirts of the village to a house with a flat roof. We climbed the outside concrete steps and onto the flat roof. Suddenly the air was filled with the sounds of cranes coming in to feed. Eat your heart out Daphne du Maurier and Mr Hitchcock, for true bird horror this is the place. We stood there as thousands of cranes wheeled around over our heads. Some came in skeins, others in waves, but all were making a deafening noise. They circled around an absolutely magnificent and unforgettable sight.

Eventually, they started landing in the field next to the house, which was clearly labelled ‘Bird Feeding Station’. Here the locals put grain on the ground for the birds to eat. The man who owns the house we were on the roof of realised that he needed to take action if the cranes were to continue visiting the village. More houses were being built and there was less for them to feed on. He managed to convince the village that there should be an area left for the cranes. He got government support as well. The villagers give something like 25% of their grain production for the birds, which is remarkable in such a poor area.

More and more birds came in to land and gradually the field began to fill up. The birds moved steadily forward eating the grain as they went. Those on the outer edge seem to be more alert and stand guard over those feeding in the centre. Then they ones at the centre move to the outer edge so the others can feed. It is all very orderly if very noisy. We watched, fascinated by these beautiful birds.

Then we headed to Philoda, a local town, to visit a Jain Temple. We parked in a square with some charming buildings about 250 years old and a dead rat! We walked to the temple, playing the usual game of chicken with the local motor bikes and tuk-tuks. The temple was glitz on speed! In a way it was very beautiful like a spinster aunt who has thought ‘what the hell’ and raided Accessorize for everything they’ve got and worn it all at once. She will certainly attract the eye, but not necessarily for the right reasons! Anyway the bling was wonderful, full of flashing mirrors and coloured glass. The mirrors came from Belgium and the blue tiles form Holland while the marble floors were from Italy. All these arrived by camel on the old Silk Road in exchange for opium i.e. opium out and glitz in. It was dazzling. We were shown around by an over-enthusiastic antique dealer whose emporium we were due to visit on the way back to the jeeps. He showed us the strange light that shown on a section of a mural which could not be explained. It came at sunrise and left at sunset, yet there was no source of light visible. A mystery…..although I slightly suspected it may have been backlit by a bulb!

The antique shop was fascinating – part shop and part museum of a collection amassed over many years. There were rows and rows of opium cutters, scissors, and irons. Tins from the days of the Raj and a myriad of other antiques. The problem was nothing was priced and it was hard to tell what was exhibit and what was museum piece. I fear he sold nothing during our visit.

Then it was time to go back to the resort for breakfast and a chance to warm up. We spent some time relaxing by the pool and then had lunch. The food just keeps coming and very wonderful it is too.

About 4.00 p.m. we boarded the jeeps and drove out to the salt pans. Here saline water from underground is pumped up into pans which are lined with the local rock and left to evaporate. After 15 days, at this time of year the salt is removed by hand and sent to a factory where iodine is added and it then goes all over India and other parts of Asia. We drove through the extensive area and on to a potters’ village. I was concerned that we hadn’t stopped, but Abhiraj had a cunning plan. The salt pans are stunning at sunset, so we would return then.

We visited a potter who showed us how he made pots using local clay on a hand wheel. It was a remarkable demonstration of his skill and we were all very impressed. The pots are baked in a large pit by the side of the house. They are stacked in the pit and then smeared with cow dung to seal in the heat. We met his wife and four daughters as well as his father. His house was built of concrete, but looked very poor, nevertheless they all seemed happy and the girls wanted to be teachers or police officers. They were delightful and when we asked to buy things they were clearly unprepared and had only a few feet scrubbers to offer us.

Back at the salt pans we watched the sun going down and caught the colours as they shimmered off the crystalline salt. It was very beautiful.

Before dinner, some local people entertained us with music and dances from the region. The musicians were highly skilled and we were particularly impressed by the two men who played wooden blocks like castanets. We tried, but could barely hold them, let alone play them! The dancers were superb and the girl’s costume was stunning. Of course they got us up to dance in the end and we stumbled around as best as we could, some members making a better fist of it than others.

Dinner was very welcome and delicious as usual. We have a lie in tomorrow!

Thursday 6th Feb.

A leisurely rise,and a delicious breakfast Ali Poori before setting off for Jamba, the village near the hotel where we are staying. We stopped after about an hour and a half for a loo break and then again after another 30 minutes for coffee and biscuits supplied by our driving crew. In India there is always a crew of two on a coach. One is the driver and the other is primarily responsible for passing around water, refreshments and making sure you don’t fall flat on your face when entering or leaving the vehicle.

After about 4 hours we arrived at the edge of the village. There we decanted into jeeps and headed out across the Thar desert. This is really acacia scrub with succulents and occasional fields of a low growing mustard. The hotel, The Clement Dune Retreat, was visible on a rock promontory in the distance. We would our way through fields and past some very poor housing and were waved at by a group of children, before entering its gates. WE were given a royal welcome and after a brief introduction from the 23 (!) year old owner were shown to our rooms. These are sizeable huts, thatched with twigs but providing very comfortable accommodation inside. Our room faces the pool area. The views over the desert are stunning.

We unpacked, had a late lunch and settled in. We lounged around the pool, a few hardy members of the group went for a dip, but the water was freezing and no one stayed in for long. Although the sun is hot, the air temperature isn’t and the surface of the pool was the only warm part. I was distracted by a group of babblers and took numerous pictures. We sat and talked until high tea was served at 5.30 – sandwiches and biscuits. Then, as the sun went down we …..well had a sundowner,,,,,before meeting in Reception at 7.00 for what I think is called ‘orientation’. Our host gave us a brief overview of the local tribes and the activities during our stay. It was now getting quite cold, so a hot shower was very welcome. Dinner followed and the food here is very good, so I shall be like a barrel by the time we leave. Back in our very chilly room we walked up the heat and were delighted to find hot water bottles in our bed.

So here we are lying in palatial splendour in our room / suite in the Rohet Hotel in Jodhpur, feeling pretty shattered,having been travelling for over 24 hours. However every hour was. Worth it to be in India once again. Certainly worth it to be in this place which is truly delightful.

In summary. A fast ride to the airport courtesy of Roger the usual at Heathrow and then a flight of just over 6 hours to Dubai with Emirates. Comfortable and a good choice of movies – I went for ‘Downtown Abbey’, can you believe it?! Just what you need on a plane journey. I followed this with ‘Lowry and Son’, which was excellent but very depressing! Arrived in Dubai in the middle of the night and had a 3 hour wait for our next flight to Delhi. Annoyingly I had started ‘Official Secrets’ in the last 2 hours, but because of all the adverts and announcements, failed to finish it by 15 minutes before we landed. An excellent film, so I was relieved to find it also on the flight to Delhi.

Arriving at Delhi,Christine and I both needed the loo before the long queue through border control. Somehow we missed each other and I waited for about 10 minutes outside the toilet to find that my dear one was already filling out entry cards to get into the country. Words were spoken, but quickly passed as we faced the long queue to get our visa in the passport. This wasn’t helped by a cleaner who shut down each booth in turn in order to wipe it down with a dirty rag and some surficant. This reduced our officials to one as he moved along the booths. Only in India! At last we got our stamp and picked up our bags and with Mark, who had kindly waited for his lost sheep we went to the departure area for internal flights. We had to check in our bags again and then go through security etc. Life is one long queue!

The plane that flew us to Jodhpur had clearly seen better days and was able to give us a mid-air Ayurvedic massage as we rolled and rattled along. The landing was firm and we spilled out onto the tarmac from both ends. I thought I’d take a picture of the plane and nearly caused an international incident as apparently this was also a military base and photography was not allowed! I got my picture though.

Finally we boarded our coach for the short journey to this beautiful bijou hotel set ina courtyard. It has been a family home since 1969 and is thoroughly charming. Humming birds busied themselves in the flowers and we were given some lime water to drink that had a strange sulphurous undertone – strange because this is not a volcanic area!

And so to bed until 7.30 when we shall be treated to dinner which will be a thali- delicious!

Sunday 2nd February

Preparing for departure tomorrow at 8.00 a.m.. This time we are visiting Rajasthan and then heading south to Kerala. We shall fly into Delhi and then to Jodhpur. Next week we shall fly to Kochi and then travel south to take a boat through the backwaters. This is very much a visit to western India. We shall try to keep this blog for those who are interested.