JODHPUR
The usually shabby bus brings me to Jodhpur, this time I have a broken seat, near a stinker. Needless to say, I have not slept.
Just to further ruin my day which is not even started yet, a stunned rickshaw-wallah can not find the Tourist Guesthouse, mentioned on the Lonely Planet, he goes around for at least three quarters of an hour, making me shiver for the cold until when, impatiently, I tell him to stop near the train station. Then a fight follows, because I refuse to pay him, while he insists that now suddendly remembers where the place it. I resist and go away, the guesthouse is not far. They give me a room without windows, the fourth wall is made with frosted glass, to give more privacy (:)), and a tiny bathroom, so tiny I have to sit sideways on the toilet because otherwise my knees collide against the wall (note: I am 162 cm tall…). I rest a couple of hours and I am awakened suddendly by the deafening roar of traffic in the street below.
I do not really understand how this can be the pleasant guesthouse described in my guide, in my opinion there was an exchange of names.
Notwithstanding I have already paid 200 rupees, at 9.00 I collect my belongings and I run away like hell, going towards the old city. The majestic fort overlooks an expanse of blue houses, like in Bundi, but here you do not breathe the same charm, the city is bigger, there is chaos, and many nuisances.
I reach with a rickshaw the Cosy Guesthouse, in Navchokiya Street. It’s pretty, with a terrace with a magnificent view of the fort, wicker chairs, and coloured lamps, but all the rooms are full. The owner asks me to sleep in a tent on the terrace, assuring me that he will provide also some blankets, but for me it’s really too cold. So he calls his cousin, who runs the Evergreen Backpackers. Even if I got lost, it would not be difficult to find this place, because it’s the only bright mint green colored house of the whole street. The stairs leading to my room are an offence to every rule of safety, and the balcony has a railing as high as my knee.
I wonder if some drunk or just distracted tourist ever smashed below. The room (350 rupees) is spartan, with a small balcony, and a freshly tiled bathroom, with hot water. After leaving my things, I reach on foot the fort. I take the audio-guides. It’s a smart move, the explanations are very interesting. Outside, I am impressed by the imposing walls, and the steep angles behind the entrance doors to annihilate the vehemence of the charges of elephants
The inner rooms have very elegant decorations and stained-glass windows
In one area of the building a famous astrologer works, but there is a long queue and I don’t want to wait. In another room there are musicians and dancers with very showy costumes
I spend the rest of the day at the Sardar Market, near the Clock Tower, where I try the Shri Mishrilal tasty lassies. Ode to the lassi, delicious smoothie made of yogurt, real blessing in the Indian heat, refreshing, healthy and nutritious. Until now, considering my last August experience, I did not find more that 4 or 5 different flavours on the menus, usually the most common fruits. This immaculate outdoor kiosk, with chairs arranged in the street, next to the clock tower, has a rather long list, both for salty and sweet kind. I choose one with cardamom, very rich, and thick, which fills my stomach beyond any belief
On the next day, December 31, I have an appointment with Chloé, who stays out of town, at one of the Bishnoi villages a few kilometers away. When we meet, she tells me that there she feels too isolated.
From the few lines that I dedicate to Jodpur my lack of appreciation for this town is clear. Same for Bikaner, I did not like them much, although I recognizes the artistic and aesthetic value of their respective fortresses
Very much alive, but too much traffic, I was not impressed
We spend New Year’s Eve dinner at Kalinga Restaurant, near the railway station, frequented by upper classes Indians, and some tourists, as it is mentioned on some guides. Great food
