Jodhpur

As we pulled in we were yet again dropped in an obscure location and left to the mercy of the rupee hungry rickshaw drivers. Picking one of the less shady looking ones we starting hurtling towards the city centre, although i couldn't help but notice the close proximity we were driving towards the vast open sewers either side of us as the winding, narrowing streets took us deeper into the heart of the old city. As we pulled up to the guesthouse the sign seemed to dishearten the rickshaw driver somewhat, NO commision given, painted clearly in bold letters. I was ousted with a grunt and practically a shove and as I handed over what I suspected was a reduced rate fare in hope of a deluge of commission he emphasised the traffic and that he now must return empty, i held my ground and he soon sped off.

The guesthouse was ran by a Jain family and there was no shortage of hospitality, the tea poured freely and when I was on the roof terrace in the shadow of the mighty Mehrangarh Fort I was plyed with all kinds of creations from the kitchen. Seeing I had an interest in cooking she was more than happy to take me through a few recipes including the most famous of indian drinks, massala chai. After all this we sat and chatted for hours on the differences between our cultures culminating in my shock at the amount, and length of time in saving it, of her daughters dowry (the Jains being one of the most strict castes, arranged marrige is still strictly adhered to, and the bigger the dowry the better the husband). Heading to bed I realised I hadn't even stepped foot into the blue city yet, tommorrow was going to be a busy day.

I set off early to the fort being assured it was only a 20 minute, steep, walk north from the hotel. After 45 minutes I found myself completely lost and succomed to the advances of a rickshaw driver who could tell i was well of the beaten path. A couple minutes buzzing through the back streets I was whizzed past my hotel and up the road that I had decided was not the right way from the moment i stepped onto the street. Soon enough I was at the entrance of the huge fort and after parting with the usual inflated foreign entrance fee I adorned my complimentary audio tour headphones and set out. Jodhpur still technically has a Maharaja but he no longer live in their ancestral home, choosing now to live in a wing of a huge 5 star hotel on the outskirts of the city. The fort was everything you would expect from a deeply divided area, battle scarred on the outside and filled with oppulent living quarters beyond the 10 foot thick walls. After a nice stroll inside it wasn't till i was out on the battlements I realised how hot it now was. Sweating to the complete saturation point I decided it too was time to abandon the fort in search of some 5 star a/c surroundings.

On my last day, complete with a list of 'local prices' courtesy of my host, I headed off to the spice markets. So far I've always found the spice markets the most interesting of the market sectors and Jodhpurs was no different. Various spices pilled up into neat pyramids of all coulours and fragrances surround you, and everyone seems to be offering you a better price than their neighbours. After enquiring at a few vendors to the price of saffron, the most expensive of spices, I was given numbers that would have covered my hotel stay for 1g, finally I spied a little old man in a tiny shop not seeming to care for any buisness but looked content just to watch the world go by. On asking about the saffron he produced a number of small boxes and directing me to the best quality he quoted me a price less than that on my spice list and both parties departed with much laughter, although I was just laughing with him as i had no idea what he had said in induce such a guffaw.

The morning of my departure I was given a hearty breakfast and waved off as I headed for yet another bus journey to the holy site of Pushkar, a mere 6 hours by bus...or so I was told!