Mount Abu is a funny little place, sitting as the desert states only hill station it appears to be a big tourist draw, more the nationals than internationals though. One of the Gods dropped something or stood here and created the lake (those Gods were always dropping things and creating holy sites). After a reasonably pleasant, and by that I mean short, train journey I embarked on the 90 minute up hill climb to Mt Abu by local bus. It appears the bigger you are the more right you have to the road in India, so buses are pretty much top of the food chain, which you can take a little comfort from as you hurtle round hair pin bends with 100ft drops on either side whilst heading into oncoming traffic. Mt Abu is free of rickshaws which at first was a bonus as there would be no competing for pedestrian walkways or constant horn tooting, then I realised there's only one thing worse than dealing with rickshaw drivers, dealing with taxi drivers. After announcing that it was a minimum fare of 100rs this was quickly reduced to 50 as I started to walk away and so I was taken to the two minute journey to my guesthouse. I received a relatively frosty reception at ganesha guesthouse and was shown to my 400rs a night room, it was small but appeared clean enough, the only thing was that the bathroom had one of those nasty sewerage whiffs, oh and it was a squat toilet. I reluctantly accepted being assured I could change rooms in the next day or two. It wasn't till later on that day, when the pong was particularly prevalent that I went to investigate. It appeared that the toilet didn't actually have an automatic flush and that a bucket of water was required to clear up, it also appeared that the last occupant of the room was lazy, and ill, explaining the worse than normal pong (It wasn't till a couple days later when this theme kept occurring that i realised my room was at the end of the line of the 4 rooms prior to me in not only the corridor sense but also the pluming and i was actually getting to know the other residents better than they could ever know!
The main attraction in Mt Abu was the lake, and to be fair it was quite a nice lake, providing a nice hour long stroll along its banks or if you were feeling brave you could also dawn a swan pedalo and paddle across the murky depth. The other main attractions were all a little further out of town and although there was only one place, the Jain temples, I was actually keen for I signed up for an all day sight sering tour, moments after paying I began to have flashbacks about the Panjim river cruise and had visions of drunk Indian tourists crammed into the aisle of the bus dancing to Kanye West, who appears to be extremely popular here. My fears weren't realised but as I suspected I was the only Westerner on the bus and as such, understandably, the tour was in Hindi, the tour guide feeling the need to shout angrily his whole commentary and when departing the bus give me a very condensed English version then sent me on my way. The first of the stops were all either mediocre temples or photo points, where the resident photographer was poised and ready to superimpose your face onto the side of a rock or have a gargantuan version of you and a loved one in the classic titanic pose emerging from the lake. So with the bus thoroughly tikka'd (the red or green or grey or white, i could go on, dot they receive in the temple after a donation) we proceeded to the next stop, the Om Shanti hall of universal peace. A strange choice for a stop i thought but I didn't actually get past the reception, an older Indian man clad all in white started taking me through the history of their followings, for so long in fact i could hear the driver of the bus angrily blowing his horn. Using at as my exit strategy i hastily left before the man coerced my into signing over my soul. The next stop and we were back to the temples although this one was slightly different, it sat on a perch with 360 steep steps between us. Whilst the rest of our group was given a full explanation i was nudged on ahead, allowing me extra pit stops if nothing else. At the top i joined the queue, not realising that there was still one obstacle between me and the deity, a very tight squeeze through some boulders into a very cool cave. I received my tikka, purple, and squeezed out on my belly on the other side blaming the fact that i am larger than the average Indian and was faced by another religious article, a shivas trident with coins stuck over it, two young guys informed me that if i pushed a coin onto it and it stuck my wish would be granted, the two lads failed whereas mine held fast, although i think it probably had something to do with my sweaty hands. And from that point forward I was rewarded with two new Indian pals, not what i wished for, but they did start buying me various drinks and snacks which was nice.
So the next stop was the Jain temples I had wanted to see, after disposing of shoes and all leather articles oh and any menstruating women, thems not allowed, we headed in. Now the story goes that the masons were paid by the amount of dust produced from their carvings of the huge marble slabs and boy did they go for it, I have never seen anything so intricate and delicate, how they have stood the test of time i don't know, only downside photography wasn't allowed.
After my two aquatints had translated anything of worth i once again broke away from the group allowing me two enjoy this fairytale temple on my own, that was until I heard the angry horn of our tour bus. Back on board the fun bus we were soon hurtling up the side of a very steep mountain to another destination unknown, well to me anyway. Once again I was confronted by a set of stairs and a series of temples, this time there was the option to be carried to the top, you could sit in what I could only describe as a wooden crate whilst two men hauled you up the stairs, i didn't indulge although plenty of older women did, and being honest half way up i was wondering if i had could maybe hitch a lift, literally. Eventually at the top i was rewarded by views across the flats of Rajasthan, oh and a white tikka. After the long climb down i got in the coach hoping that was the last stop, and judging by fellow passengers faces i wasn't the only one. Alas there was one more stop, a garden ran by the Om Shanti bunch, tempted to stay on board with the other handful who had had enough i dragged myself out and was subjected to another talk on the history of the sect, although this time in hindi. I sat diligently through the 15 minute presentation, only really recognising Jesus's face when he popped up now and again. Finally we were released into the gardens and everyone plodded round with a lacklustre enthusiasm until the all too familiar bus horn picked up our paces.
Back home I was feeling a little India'd out, I take advantage of the branch of U.S. Pizza and return to my room and immerse myself in the seemingly endless reruns of Die Hard 4.
The main attraction in Mt Abu was the lake, and to be fair it was quite a nice lake, providing a nice hour long stroll along its banks or if you were feeling brave you could also dawn a swan pedalo and paddle across the murky depth. The other main attractions were all a little further out of town and although there was only one place, the Jain temples, I was actually keen for I signed up for an all day sight sering tour, moments after paying I began to have flashbacks about the Panjim river cruise and had visions of drunk Indian tourists crammed into the aisle of the bus dancing to Kanye West, who appears to be extremely popular here. My fears weren't realised but as I suspected I was the only Westerner on the bus and as such, understandably, the tour was in Hindi, the tour guide feeling the need to shout angrily his whole commentary and when departing the bus give me a very condensed English version then sent me on my way. The first of the stops were all either mediocre temples or photo points, where the resident photographer was poised and ready to superimpose your face onto the side of a rock or have a gargantuan version of you and a loved one in the classic titanic pose emerging from the lake. So with the bus thoroughly tikka'd (the red or green or grey or white, i could go on, dot they receive in the temple after a donation) we proceeded to the next stop, the Om Shanti hall of universal peace. A strange choice for a stop i thought but I didn't actually get past the reception, an older Indian man clad all in white started taking me through the history of their followings, for so long in fact i could hear the driver of the bus angrily blowing his horn. Using at as my exit strategy i hastily left before the man coerced my into signing over my soul. The next stop and we were back to the temples although this one was slightly different, it sat on a perch with 360 steep steps between us. Whilst the rest of our group was given a full explanation i was nudged on ahead, allowing me extra pit stops if nothing else. At the top i joined the queue, not realising that there was still one obstacle between me and the deity, a very tight squeeze through some boulders into a very cool cave. I received my tikka, purple, and squeezed out on my belly on the other side blaming the fact that i am larger than the average Indian and was faced by another religious article, a shivas trident with coins stuck over it, two young guys informed me that if i pushed a coin onto it and it stuck my wish would be granted, the two lads failed whereas mine held fast, although i think it probably had something to do with my sweaty hands. And from that point forward I was rewarded with two new Indian pals, not what i wished for, but they did start buying me various drinks and snacks which was nice.
So the next stop was the Jain temples I had wanted to see, after disposing of shoes and all leather articles oh and any menstruating women, thems not allowed, we headed in. Now the story goes that the masons were paid by the amount of dust produced from their carvings of the huge marble slabs and boy did they go for it, I have never seen anything so intricate and delicate, how they have stood the test of time i don't know, only downside photography wasn't allowed.
After my two aquatints had translated anything of worth i once again broke away from the group allowing me two enjoy this fairytale temple on my own, that was until I heard the angry horn of our tour bus. Back on board the fun bus we were soon hurtling up the side of a very steep mountain to another destination unknown, well to me anyway. Once again I was confronted by a set of stairs and a series of temples, this time there was the option to be carried to the top, you could sit in what I could only describe as a wooden crate whilst two men hauled you up the stairs, i didn't indulge although plenty of older women did, and being honest half way up i was wondering if i had could maybe hitch a lift, literally. Eventually at the top i was rewarded by views across the flats of Rajasthan, oh and a white tikka. After the long climb down i got in the coach hoping that was the last stop, and judging by fellow passengers faces i wasn't the only one. Alas there was one more stop, a garden ran by the Om Shanti bunch, tempted to stay on board with the other handful who had had enough i dragged myself out and was subjected to another talk on the history of the sect, although this time in hindi. I sat diligently through the 15 minute presentation, only really recognising Jesus's face when he popped up now and again. Finally we were released into the gardens and everyone plodded round with a lacklustre enthusiasm until the all too familiar bus horn picked up our paces.
Back home I was feeling a little India'd out, I take advantage of the branch of U.S. Pizza and return to my room and immerse myself in the seemingly endless reruns of Die Hard 4.
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