The Road To Jaisalmer, 17th March
UDAIPUR KEY WORDS
Boat Ride
LAKE
Picturesque
Slight Drought
Gnocchi
ITALIAN RESTAURANTS
Flavour Discoveries
ILLNESS
Unsolid Movements
MOST
Relaxed
Wealthy
Sunsets
Octopussy
Rooftop Showings Every Night At 007pm
Hilaious
Intensive Laughing
LESSONS IN
Dance Music In Hotel Rooms
Ricky Gervais Podcasts
Sitar (Major Scales With Bends)
Indian Government (Random Hotel Room Searches)
PHONE
Credit Disaster
Motorcycle Ride
W i n d i n g S t e e t s
Vodaphone Arguments
GRAFFITI
Colour
"Holy CCTV"
"Holy ATM - Open 24hours"
CITY PALACE
Maharaja
Maharasclut
Gardens
Plush
TAILORS
Scarfs
*
I am sitting alone outside the entrance to the smouldering Jaisalmer Fort old city, with regular interruptions from two or three women who seen to be both salesmen and musicians. For the first time in a great few days I have both the energy and time to write. I have been very tired, the road is starting to work at my legs.
I arrived in Jaisalmer in four days ago, I think. Travelling here was difficult, I lost my seat to a 4am intruder out of my ignorance and kindness, slept on the floor, rode at the front of the coach with the drivers family for a while, and eventually got half on my seat back through knackered assertion of authority which was very nearly lost in translation.
From Jaisalmer we moved deeper into the desert, in which I spent a day and a night. At around 11am of the 18th, I met both my individual camel and guide. My camel was twelve years old, rugged , just darker than the colour of the surrounding sand, sexually frustrated (so I was told), the owner of a tounge not far off the length of my leg, and called Holiedaye. The bulbas tounge reguarly surfaced accompanied by a kind of yelp/burp, of which I was informed was a show of sexual dominance. In contrast to this, my guide was only ten years old, cheerful, and perhaps the son of one of the guides. Collectively, we continually forgot eachother's names, so he quickly decided he was called Johnny, and I was called Alex.
Riding a camel is just like it looks it should be. Partially uncomfortable, incredibly relaxing and addictive. They are beautiful, beautiful animals, of whom I have so much respect. The guides were equal in my respect, as they prepared, lunch, dinner and breakfast for us, a campfire and humble conversation.
We rode only for around 40 minutes at a time, but regualar breaks were useful because of the heat and the camel's welfare. This also allowed us to stop at various tiny villages meet a few curious locals. There was a five minute interval in which we were sat inside one the guide's house, while his family of six sisters and a single younger brother stared at us while giggling.
We made camp at the edge of a long, rolling set of dunes, ate basic food, made chapatis and drank (as per usual) Kingfisher brand beer. I became especially friendly with one of the guides, and he explained his love for the desert, his job and his guests. The massively wide miles of sand, the continuous horizon in sight always, the clutches at life through sand and rock - goats, occasional trees, sparse settlements, this was his home, and he would be nowhere else.
I felt nevous before the trip, the ethics of a white boy from England, dressed in all white, riding an innocent animal into another communities home for my own pleasure. Yet the way the guides enjoyed looking after us and their camels was humbling. While we provided much needed livelihood, we were much more than money in their pocket, but friends immediately.
The stars, also, were something else. Not only have I never seen so many stars in one night sky, but never with such clarity. The contrast between the exploding balls of light and the vast nothing was arresting in it's forfrontalness. As the moon rose around 3am, it was obvious what a shit name "The Milky Way" is for a galaxy.
After returning to Jaisalmer city, I had the most stressful day of travel booking yet, thinking of it now, I'm sure the veins near my temples exploded a few times. For some reason most of the trains in India are jam-packed right now, and this made the already difficult journey to Amritsar into a frightful near imposible one. It tires me to think of the details of the booking saga, let alone record it in words, but the upshot of it all was a coach booked for 4pm today, and a collapsed body at 4pm yesterday.
I can feel India starting to test me now, but the people less so. The haggling ceaseless, the hassle continuous, the hecticness inescapable, but the smiling more so, the generosity more apparant, the hospitality essential and always.
I've just been offered a Chapati by the women who've been interrupting my writing. She's playing a Jew's Harp and smiling, so I might join her.
Boat Ride
LAKE
Picturesque
Slight Drought
Gnocchi
ITALIAN RESTAURANTS
Flavour Discoveries
ILLNESS
Unsolid Movements
MOST
Relaxed
Wealthy
Sunsets
Octopussy
Rooftop Showings Every Night At 007pm
Hilaious
Intensive Laughing
LESSONS IN
Dance Music In Hotel Rooms
Ricky Gervais Podcasts
Sitar (Major Scales With Bends)
Indian Government (Random Hotel Room Searches)
PHONE
Credit Disaster
Motorcycle Ride
W i n d i n g S t e e t s
Vodaphone Arguments
GRAFFITI
Colour
"Holy CCTV"
"Holy ATM - Open 24hours"
CITY PALACE
Maharaja
Maharasclut
Gardens
Plush
TAILORS
Scarfs
*
Jaisalmer, 20th March
I am sitting alone outside the entrance to the smouldering Jaisalmer Fort old city, with regular interruptions from two or three women who seen to be both salesmen and musicians. For the first time in a great few days I have both the energy and time to write. I have been very tired, the road is starting to work at my legs.
I arrived in Jaisalmer in four days ago, I think. Travelling here was difficult, I lost my seat to a 4am intruder out of my ignorance and kindness, slept on the floor, rode at the front of the coach with the drivers family for a while, and eventually got half on my seat back through knackered assertion of authority which was very nearly lost in translation.
From Jaisalmer we moved deeper into the desert, in which I spent a day and a night. At around 11am of the 18th, I met both my individual camel and guide. My camel was twelve years old, rugged , just darker than the colour of the surrounding sand, sexually frustrated (so I was told), the owner of a tounge not far off the length of my leg, and called Holiedaye. The bulbas tounge reguarly surfaced accompanied by a kind of yelp/burp, of which I was informed was a show of sexual dominance. In contrast to this, my guide was only ten years old, cheerful, and perhaps the son of one of the guides. Collectively, we continually forgot eachother's names, so he quickly decided he was called Johnny, and I was called Alex.
Riding a camel is just like it looks it should be. Partially uncomfortable, incredibly relaxing and addictive. They are beautiful, beautiful animals, of whom I have so much respect. The guides were equal in my respect, as they prepared, lunch, dinner and breakfast for us, a campfire and humble conversation.
We rode only for around 40 minutes at a time, but regualar breaks were useful because of the heat and the camel's welfare. This also allowed us to stop at various tiny villages meet a few curious locals. There was a five minute interval in which we were sat inside one the guide's house, while his family of six sisters and a single younger brother stared at us while giggling.
We made camp at the edge of a long, rolling set of dunes, ate basic food, made chapatis and drank (as per usual) Kingfisher brand beer. I became especially friendly with one of the guides, and he explained his love for the desert, his job and his guests. The massively wide miles of sand, the continuous horizon in sight always, the clutches at life through sand and rock - goats, occasional trees, sparse settlements, this was his home, and he would be nowhere else.
I felt nevous before the trip, the ethics of a white boy from England, dressed in all white, riding an innocent animal into another communities home for my own pleasure. Yet the way the guides enjoyed looking after us and their camels was humbling. While we provided much needed livelihood, we were much more than money in their pocket, but friends immediately.
The stars, also, were something else. Not only have I never seen so many stars in one night sky, but never with such clarity. The contrast between the exploding balls of light and the vast nothing was arresting in it's forfrontalness. As the moon rose around 3am, it was obvious what a shit name "The Milky Way" is for a galaxy.
After returning to Jaisalmer city, I had the most stressful day of travel booking yet, thinking of it now, I'm sure the veins near my temples exploded a few times. For some reason most of the trains in India are jam-packed right now, and this made the already difficult journey to Amritsar into a frightful near imposible one. It tires me to think of the details of the booking saga, let alone record it in words, but the upshot of it all was a coach booked for 4pm today, and a collapsed body at 4pm yesterday.
I can feel India starting to test me now, but the people less so. The haggling ceaseless, the hassle continuous, the hecticness inescapable, but the smiling more so, the generosity more apparant, the hospitality essential and always.
I've just been offered a Chapati by the women who've been interrupting my writing. She's playing a Jew's Harp and smiling, so I might join her.
2 comments:
hello :-)
Hey sweet Declan...there you are....having the most wonderful adventure i've ever heard! I'm loving reading all your thoughts and stories, so stay safe and keep these special tales coming. We miss you lots. Take care my friend...Al. xxxx
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