The white city

It's time to leave the hustle and bustle of Pushkar (whew, my ears are ringing) and head south towards Udaipur. I've heard the trains are not the best on this route, so another bus experience. The tent general manager drives me to the Pushkar bus station which has something around a gazillion local buses ... eenie, meenie, minie, moe. I hone in on the only other two westerners and we join forces. First, it's onto one bus, assured to Ajmer ... it fills up with locals, but then again, maybe not? After several minutes the driver decides not, and we all disembark, milling about to find the next bus. Now this is no deluxe bus ... it's the local RS8 bus. At least I get a seat next to the window, day pack under my feet, knees half-way to my chin, my huge backpack on my lap, and my face squished into the zipper. Cozy! But it's only a 30 minute bus ride to Ajmer and then off to finding the other bus station.

Whenever you ask how far, Indians always say either 2 or 3 km ... even if it's right around the block. Meaning, we thought it would not be far! A helpful fellow takes us under his wing, assures it's very close, and off we walk with our backpacks, dodging cars, cows and dogs ... 1 km ... 2 km ... yup, this time it really was 3 km. Drat!

But hey, it's good exercise ... right? Now it's time to find the right place to buy a ticket at the "deluxe" bus station. Don't read too much into the word deluxe. It really just means that you will get your own seat, and they won't fit 3 people in every 2 seats! And with an upcoming 7 hour bus ride to Udaipur ... call me snooty if you like, but I want my own seat.

Hanging around the bus station for several hours, enjoying their lovely toilet facilities (certainly not western style, they cost RS5, and the aromas are free) ... I meet Irene, a delightful woman from Guatemala, living in Canada ... and realize we're traveling in the same direction over the next couple of days. It's so nice to meet folks along the way, share stories (there are so many), watch each others luggage, and just talk and talk and talk! Finally the bus arrives, we buy our tickets, and we're off.

When I left Pushkar, I had hoped that the tent general manager would call the Dream House guest house to make reservations for me. So arriving there, I find that he hadn't called until late in the day ... so sorry, Madam, all full! Uh oh! I implore the Dream House to call for another, and he calls, and calls, and calls ... I'm not breathing ... whew, success with call #5. At this point anything that is not awful is looking pretty darned good.

Sudha Guest House ... a whopping RS150 per night for each room with private bath. Have you heard the saying, you get what you pay for? On the upside, it was clean-ish and the owner, Banta, couldn't do enough to be helpful.

We take a quick visit to a nearby internet cafe and then it's racing back to the guest house so as not to miss the 11 pm curfew when the front gate is locked!

Udaipur is thought to be Rajasthan's most romantic city, the white city, bordering Lake Pichola. When the monsoon is poor, the lake is mostly empty, but this year the lake is full and beautiful. It's surprisingly hilly and the houses are narrow and many stories tall, with super skinny and steep stairsteps. Climbing the stairs in any Indian building is not for the weak-willed ... there's often no railings, the steps can be as high as your knees or as short as a couple inches, sometimes there's no light, and I'm usually feeling (and hoping) my way up and down. Udaipur is not a very big city. The roads are narrow and cobbled, with the usual animal assortment meandering about.

There was so much we wanted to see and do in Udaipur, and after a good breakfast of a cheese omelete, banana lassi and milk tea ... our day begins!

Another city palace? You'd think that if I'd seen one Indian city palace, I'd seen them all. Not so! Each of them is so very unique, so very beautiful. Each of them has a story to tell about the majaraja. Ask me after I've seen many, many more and I might have a different story to tell, but for now, it's all good. This one is spectacular, well maintained, and we wander about oohing and aahing.

We visit the Jagdish Temple, very near the city palace. I don't understand all the why's and wherefore's, but in some temples you are allowed to take pictures, others not. You always have to take off your shoes. Some are more stringent than others about having your shoulders and legs covered ... although my Indian "uniform" takes care of all those particulars.

Lunch time! One of Udaipur's claim to fame is the Lake Palace Hotel of 007's Octopussy fame. We had hoped we could go over for lunch, or possibly tea, or cocktails. But I guess they're onto us because non-guests need reservations a day in advance. Oh well, we gaze across the water wistfully with the James Bond sound track playing in our heads. Instead, we wander over to the Amet Haveli for lunch ... view of the lake and delicious too!

By the way, Udaipur takes its 007 history very seriously. It's rare to find any hotel or restaurant not playing Octopussy at 7 pm every single night.

We wander along the water's edge, discovering that the women ended their fast today and are out at sunset with their daughters lighting what looked like little cupcakes and setting them afloat. There are candles, flowers, and bananas everywhere. It likes like it's part celebration, part remembrance. Wonder what it was all about?

Still so much more to the day, we continue wandering (getting a wee bit lost) until we arrive at Dharohar, Rajasthani traditional dances and puppet show. Dazzling costumes, music, dances. And the pot dance ... a woman wearing 10 clay pots (I'm not talking petite tea-cup-sized pots here). She danced around and around, walked on shards of glass, picked up a hankie on the floor with her mouth. And to think I can stumble walking across the room even without a book on my head!

What a wonderful day! Udaipur is a magical city ... Irene and I enjoy our last moments in the city in a rooftop restaurant overlooking the city.