Jodhpur - not a pair in sight

We didn't see a single shop selling them, but did do a massive shopping session in the lively backstreets of the 'Blue City'. I hate bartering. Lots of conflict and deceit to end up both thinking you could/should have got a better deal. What is the point?

The bartering took its toll on Nicky

The camera was obviously as hazy as we were after sorting a few too many samples of this friendly chap's snuff.

There was a crowd of a dozen people watching Nicky get her flip flop fixed

Jodhpur really gave us a taste of the majesty of the Maharajah's and gave a good indication of how we should be treating our royals (ie pulling the plug on payments and tax breaks and letting them get on with it themselves) and how the royals should be conducting themselves (with some degree of dignity, sense of duty and social responsibility).

The Mehrangarh Fort really was incredible. Its an incredible piece of construction, looming over the city below. You could really appreciate that it was completely impenetrable, and then once inside, the beauty and grandeur of the palace inside really was something special to see. The Maharajas really led the life of Riley. For once the inflated entrance fee was justified because the palace was so well presented. We even enjoyed the audio tour, despite feeling like gimps the whole time. It did have the added bonus of repelling the constant questioning by locals of, "hello, how are you?" and "hello, what is your country?". To which any answer other than 'fine', or 'England' is met with marked confusion and nervous giggles.

The royal carriage, held aloft by a dozen men

Just being up there for the view of the city from the ramparts was worth the entrance fee.

The houses were originally painted blue with lime wash which indicated that a Brahmin (priest) lived there, and had the added bonus of killing off bugs. It caught on and now everybody is at it, hence Jodhpur being called the Blue City.

Back at ground level we mostly ate omelets from Vicky, the better of the two warring egg men that stand opposite one another by the Sardar Market gates. No Walruses in sight. We also had the world's creamiest saffron lassi.

Whilst exploring the city we encountered a group of lads we have christened the Bollywood boys who pestered us until we agreed to take photos of them. Everybody here either wants a photo of us (god knows what they do with them) or us to take a photo of them. The poses that this group of lads pulled out, without prompting, would do a catalogue model proud.

The Indian male is a funny creature. I never knew how camp they were. The lack of female interaction and having the leading men of the Bollywood films as their role models have created quite an interesting breed. The average man has a moustache, wears a polyester shirt and impossibly high waisted slacks, some gold jewellery and thinks it completely normal to letch at your girlfriend whilst he cuddles or holds hands with his mate. Its a bizarre spectacle.

Udaipur - remembering casual racism from James Bond in Octopussy

Sorry to post yet more sunset photos, but I couldn't resist these. If only to mention the bats the size of pterodactyls that you can just about see in the top and bottom one. They were literally about 3ft across.



My expectations of Udaipur were shaped by Octopussy being one of the first Bond films I was aware of. My brother collected crisp packets (often from ashtrays at the cricket club) for an Octopussy wrist watch with James Bond theme tune alarm. I'd love one of those now. Swatch missed a trick with their new line of Bond watches.
A big chunck of Octopussy was filmed here, and the camp classic is cram full of Indian cliches that my still child-like brain has found hard to dispel; "That oughta keep you in curry for a while!"

From our comically un backpacker like hotel (see Nic on the rooftop restaurant above) we could see not only Octopussy's lycra catsuit clad female only lair, the Floating Palace, but the Monsoon Palace where the bad guy Kamal Khan lives

The Lake Palace, now a plush hotelThe Monsoon PalaceThe years have been harsh on this lady from the Octopussy cult. Even Bond girls get old

Every single shop or hotel or restaurant has some kind of Octopussy reference to sell itself, and the film is shown at 7pm every night in every guesthouse.

Some temple or other (sorry, have got a bit templed out)

Our 5 time daily chai fix being delivered

The clock tower and a rank of rickshaws ready to quote ridiculous fares to goras

Udaipur is heralded as India's most romantic city, and I can see why because the winding streets of white washed buildings really are beautiful. It feels like a Mediterranean citadel a lot of the time, except that there are random sacred cows blocking traffic, sadhus wandering around and streets of brightly coloured saris, and people doing their washing on the banks of the lake





We visited Vijay at his Spice Shop and signed up for a days cookery lessons. Vijay hadn't got rid of the tracksuit he had from his days as the all India swim champ, sported a cheeky moustache that he only had because 'foreigners are scared of me when i have a beard' (I saw a photo of him with luxuriant beard and it was indeed menacing) and although proud of his shop and cooking enterprise would rather have been a policeman like his father and his father before him, but he was too short for the entry requirement of 5'8". He was small even by Indian standards. Nicky dwarfed him.
We also took some sitar and tabla lessons, from which our fingers have still not quite recovered. I was OK at the sitar, I suppose plucking at a single string isn't too complex, but proved once and for all that I have inherited my fathers lack of rhythm and couldnt match Nic's tabla playing skills.

Oops, another sunset shot...