Jaipur Revisited

After a swift breakfast I was off for my day of sight seeing, keen to go to the Amber Fort situated a few miles out of the city my 400 rupees fare was not too bad a price (somebody quoted me that just for the return fare alone never mind a whole day). My friendly driver set off pointing out various sights along the way, then disaster struck, a puncture (really I'm surprised I hadn't encountered this incident sooner due to the state of the roads). We pulled off to one of the many roadside garages, clearly a booming buisness, and luckily enough for me it was next to a Cafe Coffee Day so I could get my Tropical Iceberg fix (kinda like a coffee/chocolate slush puppy). After maybe an hour the novelty of sitting at the garage had well and truely worn off and my driver could tell, he decided to get the use of a motorbike to run me up to the fort and drop me off and whilst I was sight seeing return after the puncture was fixed. I got on the back of the bike with him and he instantly stalled, he started it back up and then  shot it onto the wall, none of this was filling me with confidence. The owner of the bike, dismayed at its abuse, pushed my driver off and got into the seat, we sped off hanging on for life as we dodged pot holes and showed no concern for speed bumps. After 5 minutes of pure terror we arrived at the fort and i thanked my impromptu driver and set off on the steep climb up to the entrance.

The fort was impressive, as they all tended to be and as I paid the over inflated tourist rate I was treated to a complimentary headset for a guided tour and a very faded map which I was asked to return. I wanderd from station to station being informed, in a very dramatic manner, of the history of the various buildings and statues. My map soon failed me and I found myself in what felt like a lesser visited part of the palace, I saw an unfriendly guard descend a flight of stairs and exit from where I had entered. I wandered up the winding staircase reached what felt like was a never visited part of the palace, then, just as I was going to about turn I heard the metal gate at the bottom of the stairs close and a jangle of keys, great. I rushed down the stairs but it was too late, I was locked in. I went back up and reached a bat filled room with another small staircase leading down, I eventually, after a bit of panic, got to what looked like a familiar part, except this time I was on the other side of the velvet rope. Jumping over un-noticed I decided I should probably leave as I had been promised many other sights by my driver. I soon discovered a flaw in the audio guide office position, I exited into the main courtyard and once again had to queue to gain entry to the palace to return my headset, which I did on the assurance I could exit this way once I had returned my guide and map...wrong. On my return the guard simply pointed at the no exit sign, after miming that I had just went to return my auido guide, no simple task, I was once again motioned to the no exit sign. I was left with no choice but to retour the whole fort, well minus the bat cave, before making my way back down the hill to my eagerly awaiting driver.

After he explained he had almost given up hope and I explained my adventures he told me I was now off to the old city to see how the famous 'block printed' fabric was made, I was intregued. I needn't have been. It was in actual fact a commission based shop which had a few lacklustre fabric hangings and one set of elephant printing blocks which a young child demonstrated, not exactly making me put my hand in my pocket. I was then shown up to the real buisness, a room filled with cloth and a tailoring section. I chatted to the owner for a while and then explained that I had no intention of buying and that even if I was to have shirts made why would I come with a rickshaw driver who is skimming a large chunk of commission. He admitted defeat in the end and I left, my driver looking a little sad that I hadn't bought anything...yet. We set off now in the direction of a silver smith, where I was to be shown workers setting the famous Jaipur gems into rings etc. Unsurprisingly this was again to be another show room, and with no intention of buying I refused the cup of chai and hence skipping the sales pitch and we left. I don't know why but I found myself apologising to my driver for the lack of my purchasing and in turn his lack of commission even though I felt no such guilt.

The second to last stop was an unknown temple, despite the minimal fee my driver insisted I just climb the large set of stairs next to it where I could peer in for free, which I did. As I, slowly, made my way up the stairs I was besieged by children begging, I gave them what remained of my stash of chocolate eclairs (a cheaper and more effective way of dispersing a group of kids, also means it doesn't line the pockets of a beggar pimp). On my way back down I saw my driver whizzing about on a moped, this was supposedly for my benefit, he seemed determined to show me that he could drive on two wheels.

Finally, and not a moment too soon we were on our way home, alas there was to be one final stop en route, his very good friends shop (this one wasnt even disguised as something else). I was greeted warmly and shown a seat surrounded by everything from pillow cases to pashminas. I once again insisted that I had no intention of buying anything which the owner seemed to take offence as if I was implying that he wanted to sell me things, I could tell this was going to be a much harder sell. He started off telling me my fortune, very good apparently, then informed me that the gap in my teeth meant I was to be very rich one day. On chatting about Scotland I mentioned that my hometown was famous for its mills and cashmere was big buisness there. Well this sent his into a frenzy, soon I was being shown every different type of shawl he had and then I was to be tested. He wanted me to pick out the cashmere scarf out of the twenty or so he had given me, reluctant to entertain him I eventually picked out the softest one I could find. He relished in the fact I was wrong and bellowed that this was actually an illegal type of hair and that I knew nothing, a funny sales pitch. Well that was it, I had had enough, and wether it was just a culmination of the days events or that other things were playing heavy on my mind I erupted in a manner that I only exhibit on the rarest, and most stressful, of occassions. My driver who had been sitting silently sprung to his feet and tried to diffuse the situation, maybe still hopeful for a sale, the owner clearly was, as I slung insults at him he retorted with the various prices of the scarves only ceasing when I was back in the rickshaw.

It was a silent journey back to the hotel, the driver coming to terms with the fact it had been a fruitless day and he had blown any chance for a tip, which he had. I handed over the pre arranged fare for the day, it looked like he went to speak but stopped himself, probably about to insist on a little extra and, rightfully, thinking better of it. I did him the courtesy of not reporting him to reception and retreated to the sanctity of my room. I had my train to Agra in the morning and the thought he being  immersed in the beauty of the Taj within 24hrs put me in a better frame of mind, little did I know that the Taj was truely to be a diamond in the rough.