The Aravali Hills

Today was gentler on the body and brain, though I have walked over 13,000 steps, mainly up and down sttep staircases. 

As it was a free day, Annie and I decided to go out together to City Palace, and to take a boat to Jagmandir Island Palace on Lake Pichola. Tessa had hired an auto rickshaw to go to an Animal Aid sanctuary that she supports. 

After breakfast, we walked the  short distance to the palace. I managed to buy some cheap souvenirs at one of the stalls. Upon entering the palace, which is actually a series of palaces built on the lake side, we did a bit more shopping. I bought a shalmar kameez at the Anokhi shop. Unfortunately I could not remember the PIN for my new card, and the WiFi didn't work on my phone! Annie bailed me out. 

The palace is built in many styles and in different epochs, and has many, many staircases. The route is one way, and one must keep going , following the arrows, never doubling back. There are several delightful courtyards. Some of the restored sections incorporate coloured panes of glass. Some parts are furnished, most are not. To see it is to breathe in history.  I recommend you watch part 1 of Treasures of India on All4, of it is still available..That programme is part of the reason I'm here. 

After a chai breakin a courtyard, we finished our palace tour and entered a soecial complex where we could walk down to the lake  and catch a boat to the island. The canopied boat was fitted with life jackets, and toured around the famous Lake Palace hotel ( the one that's in a James Bond film) before arriving at Jagmandir palace resort. It's basically a sort of film-set leisure complex where you can eat and drink with lakeside views, or stroll around a beautiful park. We sat and ate/drank while a barefoot woman in a sari broke up the soul in a flower bed with a mattock. 'Do not pluck the roses' advised a sign. Only two or three blooms geace each bed. Winter has cast its spell on Rajasthan. 

Annie went and poked around a locked-uo area, and a guard kindly let us in and encouraged us to pose for photos which he took with our phones. He explained that this was a complex for visiting VIPS. I'll try to post a shot in Extras. 

We sat around for a bit, trying to catch up with some of our cultural notes and the itinerary, then took the boat back and returned to our hotel. I nearly got run over right outside! The auto rickshaws and scooters a terrifying. I feel I'm in Brighton in the 1960s and the Mods are arriving en masse, without helmets or observing traffic lanes. 

We met up with Tessa and Russell (another group member) had some chai on the roof, then retired for a short while. I tried to listen to PM's Question Time. This proved impossible, so I read about it instead. 

For dinner we returned to Clouds restaurant. I had planner pakora and crispy corn, but we all shared. The cauliflower curry was amazing. Walked back and went over to the Jagdish temple opposite our hotel for Darshan. 

We took off our shoes off inside the temple, and joined a queue of people. Before the statue of Krishna we bowed and touched our forehead to the railing. Some women beckoned us into the enclosure where they sat with the male musicians, singing kirtan and playing cymbals, a drum, and cymbal-sticks. First the women led the kirtan and then some very tall men came and climbed over into the women's 'cage' and sang with great passion and devotion, whilst also drumming, in one case. Sweat glistened on their brows.  I became immersed, despite failing to learn how to clap on time, use the cymbals or sit cross-legged for a lengthy period. Meanwhile, the statues of Krishna and the other gods were being wrapped up in blankets and put to bed for the night. They will be woken up around 5 am tomorrow. Offerings (prasad) of shared blessed food were handed around. These were Indian sweets which tasted like Scottish butter tablet. Some elderly women were given money. 
Suddenly the music ceased and the older women got up and left. Tessa and I did the same. My knees could no longer hack the sitting position. Annie stayed, and shortly afterwards I heard the singing blasting out on the speaker from the temple for about ten minutes.. Abruptly it cut out, mid phrase. This will happen again tomorrow morning and evening, for ever and ever.

I understand now why my father, grew up in India (Calcutta) usually played Indian music and Indian instruments around the house. The music is so compelling. He also played the penny whistle, of course. It is only by travelling yo Mexico and India that I can make sense of my (first absent and later deceased) father, because he never fitted into Irish or British culture, having been raised in India, returning often, and later adopting Mexico and his preferred domicile. He was a man of many faces, not all of them pleasant, but he gave us a taste for travel, foreign anguages, and a unique perspective on curiosity and global customs.