tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27061948413142513252024-03-14T19:24:14.738+05:30Radinja3A journey around India R+D's travelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11203558327305830800noreply@blogger.comBlogger48125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2706194841314251325.post-28917056208552488252013-03-05T04:22:00.000+05:302013-03-05T04:22:01.744+05:30Sunday 3rd - Two lunches and afternoon tea<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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We have time for a quick breakfast before the taxi arrives and takes us to the airport. On the way we spot an elephant being ridden down the road - not a sight that we have seen before in Delhi. The airport isn't too busy and we make steady progress through the various stages of security. A quick browse in WH Smith's and it is time to move on to the gate.<br />
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The first flight is to Dubai and takes just over 3 hours, most of which is taken up by the serving of lunch. This consists of a very nice Mutton Biryani with Raita and is served with a rather splendid Crozes Hermitage. In no time flat we are in Dubai where we get a bonus train trip - from Terminal A to terminal B. As we board the Glasgow flight a Kiwi stewardess admires D's t-shirt. It reads "New Zealand - Like Scotland but Further Away". She hadn't spotted the punch line.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6kh7DH12VpnMSaEgreWE3H7UppVL9qwxRqMUFnoc9MYmMzHKGNDedgmeW3TL0KM4c-cX-qgnTLWu2iaWy1XmhtVj5Z8Xt_Yup8xuK7azriNVYIotM8HrevXdAC2OfYrm__Sgu4iNoKk68/s1600/DSCF4736.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6kh7DH12VpnMSaEgreWE3H7UppVL9qwxRqMUFnoc9MYmMzHKGNDedgmeW3TL0KM4c-cX-qgnTLWu2iaWy1XmhtVj5Z8Xt_Yup8xuK7azriNVYIotM8HrevXdAC2OfYrm__Sgu4iNoKk68/s320/DSCF4736.JPG" width="320" /></a>A seven hour daylight flight gives the opportunity for some serious viewing. D manages 2 Bollywoods (English Vinglish and Namaste London) as well as the Maltese Falcon and four episodes of "The Big Bang Theory". And a second lunch of Chicken Curry with more Crozes Hermitage and afternoon tea with scone and clotted cream. We must have eaten more today than we have on any other two days of our trip added together.<br />
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As we are at the very back of the plane we have to queue for a while to be readmitted to our homeland but not so long that our luggage has arrived on the carousel. By the time it appears and we clear customs Helen and Alex have arrived to collect us. We have been away for 2 hours short of six weeks, had a great time but it is nice to be home.<br />
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You may have spotted that today's photos bear no relevance at all to the text. We have stuck in a few shots that made us smile but didn't fit anywhere else.</div>
R+D's travelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11203558327305830800noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2706194841314251325.post-12341028423329059882013-03-04T14:21:00.000+05:302013-03-05T12:56:42.569+05:30Saturday 2nd - Art for R's sake<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Our last full day in India. The sun is shining yet again. Today we have an art tour booked, commencing at 10 a.m, so a leisurely breakfast is the order of the day. Our car, complete with driver and guide arrive promptly and after introductions we are on our way through New Delhi's leafy streets to the National Museum. The guide, Adithiya, is both knowledgeable and enthusiastic about his subject and we get a crash course in Indian Art from the Mughal era through to the mid 19th century. We also learn quite a lot about mango-fed cows' urine.<br />
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We move on to the Gallery of Modern Art where there is a lot of interest to see before you get to the really wacky abstract stuff. We learn how Indian Art became very much concentrated in Bengal during the years leading up to Independence. It is interesting to see how a conscious effort was made to develop a style with clear Japanese influences as a rejection of Colonial or Imperial norms.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9NM77OPMoErSoth7vcUQKpJLiK69rFUI1W8vjSkqQk5vBJCL1dCflIfDdNgGeNzuvKSrzRWD9y7YgZPgsPsUHtfAUwBrt2jr5FPKn9jtf6DIB6wZlwLoZRIBD79WWNNNdLHvTdVvdid3y/s1600/DSCF6731.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9NM77OPMoErSoth7vcUQKpJLiK69rFUI1W8vjSkqQk5vBJCL1dCflIfDdNgGeNzuvKSrzRWD9y7YgZPgsPsUHtfAUwBrt2jr5FPKn9jtf6DIB6wZlwLoZRIBD79WWNNNdLHvTdVvdid3y/s320/DSCF6731.JPG" width="320" /></a>Our final visit of the tour is to a gallery in Hauz Khas village, a short ride to the south. We thought that we had been there on Thursday and that it was a bit dull, but it turns out that we had not strayed far enough from the main road and the metro. There is a cluster of galleries and places to eat and drink. The area has become quite a smart place to live and some of the natives don't seem too friendly.<br />
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We visit an exhibition focusing on the "Nude in Indian Art", apparently very controversial when it opened in January but now in its last few days. There are one or two really bizarre pieces on display but it is a bit difficult to see why they create any more of a fuss than some of the ancient temple carvings that are to be found in India.<br />
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The afternoon is divided between packing and drinking tea while watching the birds in the garden. One of the hornbills puts in an appearance. Just after 5 we set off for our dinner date with one of D's fellow moderators from India Mike. This involves a metro ride into the city centre then a second, longer ride out to Noida, a satellite city on the eastern fringe of Delhi. Polite young men vacate the Aged and Infirm seats for us. Cheeky sods! We arrive in good time to be able to do a little shopping in a 7-11 type store near the station. We want some lemon tea bags to take home but the selection was feeble. We will be bringing home Tetley tea bags as a souvenir.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhasEKEfdbDK2S7kZZ12-vaaZBbhH8Ny8qf_JbZKXk2FnhP0q9wUx4StSZEgTlvVJzC-7py6gEZtbTRE4XqWesERM942ufFnMHYtX0AjNjDMmIY4HRsprSH_YVtmqyS0FtSOiyzRHtJ7xoM/s1600/DSCF6748.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhasEKEfdbDK2S7kZZ12-vaaZBbhH8Ny8qf_JbZKXk2FnhP0q9wUx4StSZEgTlvVJzC-7py6gEZtbTRE4XqWesERM942ufFnMHYtX0AjNjDMmIY4HRsprSH_YVtmqyS0FtSOiyzRHtJ7xoM/s320/DSCF6748.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
Our friend takes us to a South Indian, vegetarian place at the back of a market. There is no way of knowing that it is there unless you have a guide with you. It isn't too busy when we arrive but fills quite quickly with locals. We are guided through the menu and have some interesting food as well as probably the best cup of coffee that we have had yet in India. During dinner R mentions that she has failed to find one of the ingredients that she had been hoping to buy. We are then taken round the market area until a shop is found that stocks mango powder.<br />
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The metro back into the city is standing room only at 9.30 p.m. but the A/c makes the trip quite bearable. This has been a late night by our recent standards and after seeing off the dregs of our bottle of Honey Bee we sleep soundly.</div>
R+D's travelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11203558327305830800noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2706194841314251325.post-91328289510490914412013-03-02T09:19:00.001+05:302013-03-02T09:19:32.590+05:30Friday 1st March - Gurgaon<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgitSu8DnfgwiA23my83xlJIaPEvbBoVyebhq0kIRhKG3SM_gBFR7CMQ0FGbd1rdJ4VtBpeoGaD9d6jyRk39ZaT6Ai5KhkaT6BuauzIHl6PvL86vvvpwmSyDYaalDg40Aq9alO_n7c-L7J8/s1600/DSCF6724.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a>We wake to a beautiful sunny morning with a little bit of a nip in the air and dew on the lawn. Like it used to be in the UK sometimes. Breakfast is leisurely and then D takes an auto to the National Rail Museum. This has not changed greatly in two years although the steam monorail has been restored and according to staff runs every Sunday. It looks as if a concerted effort to restore the Darjeeling B Class and the Matheran coaches is under way but there is still a general air of decay about the place. It is to be hoped that the rust is removed from 777 before they attempt to repaint. The indoor hall is <br />being redecorated so there is only limited access and a prohibition on photography. If that was in effect 2 years ago none of us noticed it.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitvgN-vkEYgoWPZ7qmV1n7zsWt-xFJU1mWZLfYmuEm4qTOoYw70XWiaci3eAsiUuYQx83uC8Bg6zLiUms5WBwJ6-CS1Iq8nPC3BV4WUmmf2Auar5D0pt2QEO_y5TToFu9XTLmhYDLRCX6d/s1600/DSCF6703.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitvgN-vkEYgoWPZ7qmV1n7zsWt-xFJU1mWZLfYmuEm4qTOoYw70XWiaci3eAsiUuYQx83uC8Bg6zLiUms5WBwJ6-CS1Iq8nPC3BV4WUmmf2Auar5D0pt2QEO_y5TToFu9XTLmhYDLRCX6d/s320/DSCF6703.JPG" width="320" /></a>Back at the ranch R is sitting in the garden watching the birds but no hornbills this morning. As it is Friday afternoon we have scheduled our usual visit to the pub although this time it will be a little earlier and involve a 40 minute metro ride each way. At IFFCO Chowk in Gurgaon we are met by our IM pal and we go to try out one of the trendy micro-brewery bars in this rapidly growing satellite city. The beer is very good, as is the food, and once we have persuaded them to reduce the decibel level a convivial afternoon ensues. The only let down is Gurgaon, which we were assured, was full of gun-toting gangsters. We don't even see a traffic violation.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgitSu8DnfgwiA23my83xlJIaPEvbBoVyebhq0kIRhKG3SM_gBFR7CMQ0FGbd1rdJ4VtBpeoGaD9d6jyRk39ZaT6Ai5KhkaT6BuauzIHl6PvL86vvvpwmSyDYaalDg40Aq9alO_n7c-L7J8/s1600/DSCF6724.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgitSu8DnfgwiA23my83xlJIaPEvbBoVyebhq0kIRhKG3SM_gBFR7CMQ0FGbd1rdJ4VtBpeoGaD9d6jyRk39ZaT6Ai5KhkaT6BuauzIHl6PvL86vvvpwmSyDYaalDg40Aq9alO_n7c-L7J8/s320/DSCF6724.JPG" width="320" /></a>There are empty seats for our ride back to our stop, marked as reserved for the elderly and differently abled. There is nobody older than us in sight so we take them. In fact there is hardly anybody over the age of 30 on the train.<br />
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The sun is just starting to set as we get back to Lutyens Bungalow and the garden is full of parakeets when we see, on a distant tree, the pair of hornbills with a juvenile. Two of them stay still long enough for a photo. Wonderful! We dine in as the odd ones out on a table of Aussies but they are good company. <br /></div>
R+D's travelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11203558327305830800noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2706194841314251325.post-56974154943454807542013-03-01T21:51:00.001+05:302013-03-01T21:51:26.851+05:30Thursday 28th - Indian GDP receives boost<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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The area of South New Delhi around Lutyens Bungalow is like nowhere else that we have been in India. The neighbouring properties are all large and gated with impressive plates on the gateposts announcing senior military men, politicians or embassies. The gardens are well tended, the pavements immaculately surfaced and the cars large and shiny. Come to think of it we don't know too many places in Scotland that are as ritzy as this.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy_kuvvdf2NB6XhnsamHrJ2wtUSLFYvtjbZcyp-1adqLXYGybJdaNBhh1YJ30MdgYNyLIClU9iMpsUt4z8QX6SOPTD9tEM7eVUMHIrPQgOkLTKhI9UNHzxru7fL1ZCoHO4E7_61wDa4bi4/s1600/DSCF6565.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy_kuvvdf2NB6XhnsamHrJ2wtUSLFYvtjbZcyp-1adqLXYGybJdaNBhh1YJ30MdgYNyLIClU9iMpsUt4z8QX6SOPTD9tEM7eVUMHIrPQgOkLTKhI9UNHzxru7fL1ZCoHO4E7_61wDa4bi4/s200/DSCF6565.JPG" width="200" /></a>After a leisurely breakfast we stroll along to the metro station to take a ride south to see Qutub Minar, site of the capital of the of the Delhi Sultans in the middle ages and the tallest minaret in India. We took the audio guide , which was very interesting but sometimes hard to follow on the ground. The tower itself is the main attraction, standing 238 feet high. but there are many other interesting buildings in the immediate area as well as an iron pillar dating back to the 4th century AD.<br />
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The tower used to be a bit taller for a few years as the Brits added a cupola to the top which was later removed and now stands in a corner of the site. It was erected by a Major Smith, not as far as we know, a relative of R. The structure is now known as Smith's Folly.<br />
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A couple of hours was all we could really spare here as we have serious shopping to do. The metro takes us back into town where our first requirement is a bookshop. The one that we want has moved but we soon find another where Salim Ali's "Book of Indian Birds" is in stock. this is the book that we decided in Kolkata woulde be too heavy to carry all round India. The assistant spots that R is in retail mode and quickly recommends a cookbook "Complete Indian Cooking". This weighs even more. Our next planned stop is the State Emporiums but as we skirt the edge of Connaugt Place (CP), trying to avoid the touts, a youth tries to sell us a trolley bag. We need something for the loot but his is too big. The price descends from 1100 to 300 in no time flat as we say no thanks, a great lesson in negotiating. <br />
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We take a turn around the Palika Bazaar, a sort of converted underground car park that makes In-Shops look like Harrods. The traders here are desperate to sell, although not at the prices that D is prepared to pay. The banter and disinterested haggling is good fun although R finds it all a bit overwhelming and we soon move on to the soporific atmosphere of the State run shops, staffed by public sector employees who get paid regardless so most make little effort to sell. This makes for a much more relaxing experience.<br />
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The Spice Market is a must visit for us when we go to Delhi even if it is a bit of a scrum, with laden porters seeking a way through with their huge loads. R's tactic is to walk the length of the bazaar then pick a stall that she likes the look of. Usually you are invited in for a seat away from the traffic and can buy at leisure. Every time that R gets to the end of her list the man suggests something else essential and the list grows. This is where the extra 10 Kg baggage allowance with Emirates will come in handy.<br />
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A cycle rickshaw ride along Chandi Chowk takes us to Haldiram's for a cold drink and a spell in an A/C environment. They also sell the most wonderful looking cakes but we don't weaken. We are saving ourselves for a meal at Karim's. D manages to find his regular shoe shine man for a quick buff up then it is time to hit Kinari Bazaar .<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6hyMB1BA6GIsUCe8MSiWtevyqy9mjrriAVTsxlYsXPuL5RbfDcaSbDVcD-A-Fyd6GjRFaMGywvaFchBWD9IOQNd03g3YSYg2bhLBxaSJfwG3plf4jYSlQwS-rQIHqzbzQoGijmlZdkdyL/s1600/DSCF6651.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6hyMB1BA6GIsUCe8MSiWtevyqy9mjrriAVTsxlYsXPuL5RbfDcaSbDVcD-A-Fyd6GjRFaMGywvaFchBWD9IOQNd03g3YSYg2bhLBxaSJfwG3plf4jYSlQwS-rQIHqzbzQoGijmlZdkdyL/s200/DSCF6651.JPG" width="200" /></a>This narrow alley full of haberdashers and wedding accessory shops is R's favourite, even if you have to fend off passing motorbikes and cycle rickshaws. The temptation to buy everything on display is enormous and it is a good job that R has only brought a small bag with her. By now hunger is calling and we head for Karim's, a legendary restaurant in Old Delhi. The food is good although the service could have been a little better. This is our third visit and we finally get to sample their kebabs but we do have to remind our waiter that we ordered them. D is still a little peckish so we stop off at a food stall for gulab jamuns. Don't worry - we ate there last year on our food tour of Old Delhi and lived to tell the tale.<br />
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Our final task for the day is to find a mehendi artist. D eventually finds the right street and we locate a row of three or four shops all offering hand painting, R picks one and negotiates a price - £2. The man with the henna tube is very skillful and produces a very intricate design. It is still wet so all we have to do now is get it home safely on the metro. To this end R is banished to the somewhat less crowded Ladies Only coach. She does manage to get off at the right stop, so mission accomplished. </div>
R+D's travelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11203558327305830800noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2706194841314251325.post-80779073302580932722013-02-28T20:31:00.001+05:302013-02-28T20:31:14.450+05:30Wednesday 27th - Back to Delhi<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
The latter part of our final proper train trip for this visit is rather tame. We all have a good night's sleep and wake to the cry of the chai seller. D now considers himself to have moved up a level when it comes to Indian Railways expertise as he manages to unfasten one of their deadly fiendish compartment door locks with one hand. He also gets in a spot of door riding and a row with a Dutch couple who want to smoke in the lobby. He sort of wins as they move off down the train in the hope of finding somewhere without objectors. <br />
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Progress is very stop start but we are only 20 minutes late when we pull into Delhi Cantt. station where a car is waiting to take us to Lutyens Bungalow. We are welcomed with hugs and a cup of tea and while away half an hour watching the birds in the garden until our room is ready. There are still plenty of parakeets around and they rather bully the pigeons and the squirrels.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinmxa72KXqAjLMAUHwOFDyFFLq1nTyARGF52arVfVuxcxOSIPjL4u1AHNUUuAAfmEEj-MeyE3ZvwH-kJ3K5cr6FkfbzyN-5AAzpg9k5NG3fFxE8I-7MdNH2FFJM5-moAGLKuxVd6gh594s/s1600/DSCF6543.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinmxa72KXqAjLMAUHwOFDyFFLq1nTyARGF52arVfVuxcxOSIPjL4u1AHNUUuAAfmEEj-MeyE3ZvwH-kJ3K5cr6FkfbzyN-5AAzpg9k5NG3fFxE8I-7MdNH2FFJM5-moAGLKuxVd6gh594s/s320/DSCF6543.JPG" width="320" /></a>After a shower and a change of clothes we head out to the metro for a two leg trip to the Lajpat Nagar market, on the south east side of the city. This market is traffic free and there is very little hustling by the stallholders. There is one very persistent young man selling alleged Rayban sun glasses. Even when D's total apathy has brought the price down to 200 rupees (about £2.50) he insists that they are the genuine article. There is a truly excellent nuts and sweets stand and it is D's turn to expand his wardrobe.<br />
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We get back to base in time for afternoon tea on the terrace and we get a couple of clear sightings of a pair of Indian Grey Hornbills who have become regular visitors. As usual D is too slow with the camera. We sit out in front of our room with a cold beer in the hope that they will return but no luck. Dinner turns into a party as we are all together on one table - two French ladies, an Englishwoman and her Dutch husband who live in the south of France and their fellow travellers, a Belgian couple. There is a very lively conversation that switches from English to French and back again with a little Flemish thrown in for good luck. The four of them are taking a 2.30 a.m. flight to Brussels and have a good go at drowning the misery.</div>
R+D's travelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11203558327305830800noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2706194841314251325.post-75425799158924689832013-02-28T09:16:00.000+05:302013-02-28T09:16:01.172+05:30Tuesday 26th - D's Halo Slips.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxGxCOm9yH1FHSp_0SJ17mrNs1IMVN5W5HFFhM2DCIf8VEsANp66C-8ZrdlseO9xZbEopHjr6NpmHm4MwmeRu2SWIyC7SeiY6dCehPLngMr2Hzh5Z1jUoUvpUENEV5jNSLAS_rWHHpT0WR/s1600/DSCF6511.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAX2kspqx1n43rGPBGIhJLZYPQdjGjsIIwTOmWenCpwK31SzfWAmeGKKNcZFJK7-W7U7KYV5RpG8QIaAbpiuAgMxKAkOR_2fLOsF0SoWtQ2tzPH25lh9lS4xyUUAsf9tDyOFII634kD8SX/s1600/DSCF6492.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAX2kspqx1n43rGPBGIhJLZYPQdjGjsIIwTOmWenCpwK31SzfWAmeGKKNcZFJK7-W7U7KYV5RpG8QIaAbpiuAgMxKAkOR_2fLOsF0SoWtQ2tzPH25lh9lS4xyUUAsf9tDyOFII634kD8SX/s320/DSCF6492.JPG" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaF87WURHejrU0jvssFIfRcArSbvD937PdZJ4SM-g6JHkmbEWk5ddWJopPQR0bv_bz6hYlygv669wFK3-T8LwvW6rETrVd810x1XJV-_WKicmgbXIEFqcTTaZLGleVJmC3wEhJ7Ze8zRlF/s1600/DSCF6496.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a>On our way home from the desert we were offered a very generous late check out by Anil and Arvind who run the Desert Boy's. As long as we leave our bags packed so that they can show the room to prospective punters we can use it until we leave at 4 p.m. D is definitely recovered and enjoys a hearty breakfast (tea, omelette and toast if you must know). He is so recovered that he suggests touristic activity in the form of a visit to the Jaisalmer Fort Palace. We get lost yet again but in due course find our way to the main square. We climb the steps, pay our admission fee and don the audio guide equipment. It seems like an interesting place.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaF87WURHejrU0jvssFIfRcArSbvD937PdZJ4SM-g6JHkmbEWk5ddWJopPQR0bv_bz6hYlygv669wFK3-T8LwvW6rETrVd810x1XJV-_WKicmgbXIEFqcTTaZLGleVJmC3wEhJ7Ze8zRlF/s1600/DSCF6496.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaF87WURHejrU0jvssFIfRcArSbvD937PdZJ4SM-g6JHkmbEWk5ddWJopPQR0bv_bz6hYlygv669wFK3-T8LwvW6rETrVd810x1XJV-_WKicmgbXIEFqcTTaZLGleVJmC3wEhJ7Ze8zRlF/s320/DSCF6496.JPG" width="320" /></a>Then the coach parties arrive. Quite the rudest and most inconsiderate people we have encountered anywhere in India outside A/C Chair class. They appear to have no interest in the museum or its exhibits and are intent on getting round it as quickly as possible using tactics such as jostling, pushing, shouting, stamping and gouging. They should have been at a football match or some kind of political rally. <br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxGxCOm9yH1FHSp_0SJ17mrNs1IMVN5W5HFFhM2DCIf8VEsANp66C-8ZrdlseO9xZbEopHjr6NpmHm4MwmeRu2SWIyC7SeiY6dCehPLngMr2Hzh5Z1jUoUvpUENEV5jNSLAS_rWHHpT0WR/s1600/DSCF6511.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxGxCOm9yH1FHSp_0SJ17mrNs1IMVN5W5HFFhM2DCIf8VEsANp66C-8ZrdlseO9xZbEopHjr6NpmHm4MwmeRu2SWIyC7SeiY6dCehPLngMr2Hzh5Z1jUoUvpUENEV5jNSLAS_rWHHpT0WR/s320/DSCF6511.JPG" width="320" /></a><br />
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The final straw is that the Stamp Collection is closed for viewing. D has been looking forward to seeing some of the Princely States collections that are held here. The big attraction appears to be the splendid all round views of the city available from the roof of the Palace.<br /><br /><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEcR9hlsTMWyoj11MOc8rgT1UcZYXsIxRpetKoOU77b0gqTS98rM5zNQZZ7fqLns-426cotQOIPqEHxXWLMFCL-2UaMgGnPipfe7vzjt04ukeM7r_TmSWfglXVscch7gRsbQilzyhdBJD8/s1600/DSCF6517.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEcR9hlsTMWyoj11MOc8rgT1UcZYXsIxRpetKoOU77b0gqTS98rM5zNQZZ7fqLns-426cotQOIPqEHxXWLMFCL-2UaMgGnPipfe7vzjt04ukeM7r_TmSWfglXVscch7gRsbQilzyhdBJD8/s320/DSCF6517.JPG" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYKsfkQT9ABNNqbQTfST0JwzrUpjhxqkTFigtRO_1_dywZuzO3BrMY2hWkW-VXIMQfBjbw7KQ5vjTP7F9BrgU2J9ymC4MjlNQA9EysxP57Lig8jpxkOQr7A3pffzydA-3JOxtdkiNgqHua/s1600/DSCF6521.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><br />
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We abandon the culture and go for a long, lingering lunch at a rooftop restaurant, opting for the shade of the tented section. D takes no risks with his digestion and orders kathi roll and chips, while R goes for Veg Jalfrezi. We have a last stroll through the bazaar and up the hill into the fort. At last we manage to find the DB's without touring the entire neighbourhood. Our room has not been let yet so we can freshen up and at last get the wifi to work.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYKsfkQT9ABNNqbQTfST0JwzrUpjhxqkTFigtRO_1_dywZuzO3BrMY2hWkW-VXIMQfBjbw7KQ5vjTP7F9BrgU2J9ymC4MjlNQA9EysxP57Lig8jpxkOQr7A3pffzydA-3JOxtdkiNgqHua/s1600/DSCF6521.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYKsfkQT9ABNNqbQTfST0JwzrUpjhxqkTFigtRO_1_dywZuzO3BrMY2hWkW-VXIMQfBjbw7KQ5vjTP7F9BrgU2J9ymC4MjlNQA9EysxP57Lig8jpxkOQr7A3pffzydA-3JOxtdkiNgqHua/s320/DSCF6521.JPG" width="320" /></a><br />
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What a disaster! D checks the PNR for our train and we have not got the coupe. R threatens legal action. Before we leave we are asked to take chai with Arvind and the team. It is very good and a nice way to part. They arrange an auto down to the station. The train is in but locked and there are no vendors, only a meagrely provisioned chai stall. Supper will be crisps and water. Another blot on D's battered escutchion.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK8nVS33Bh_G3lYxxfC1VU_RKJEMAr1w6jeLHqi0cXqIiePdx0emALtcpMKNUgRdVE1Thm7UG_bpqWYUDVdyvtFwsw3ppICGVkLLXegXi7JHYpQPJSL6RHLplvA5kwWIYGSobCeedKdfxI/s1600/DSCF6524.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK8nVS33Bh_G3lYxxfC1VU_RKJEMAr1w6jeLHqi0cXqIiePdx0emALtcpMKNUgRdVE1Thm7UG_bpqWYUDVdyvtFwsw3ppICGVkLLXegXi7JHYpQPJSL6RHLplvA5kwWIYGSobCeedKdfxI/s320/DSCF6524.JPG" width="320" /></a><br />
When the man with the glue and the other man with the charts arrive it becomes apparent that R will have to have an upper bunk. The last time this happened she swore that it would be the last time. We are sharing the cabin with Mr & Mrs Gupta who clearly have clout as their entries on the chart are marked HO. (Head Office, High Official - something like that.) The coupe has gone to a couple in their 70's so perhaps age is the clincher. The Guptas are good company and we talk about a range of subjects. He is a retired Civil servant from the Finance Ministry and she a teacher on a part time basis. Today the new railway budget was announced so we spend time discussing the financial mess that the system is in. <br /><br />We turn in early and R manages her upper berth without any real fuss. Mr G has ordered the attendant to turn down the A/C so we are not blast chilled and we have a pretty comfortable night. </div>
R+D's travelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11203558327305830800noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2706194841314251325.post-15686382322514914442013-02-27T21:33:00.003+05:302013-02-27T21:34:27.329+05:30Monday 25th - The Desert Song<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqn8grleq_7wrVqxEB-75LKzjlTNDQbJ_8TwqME3NG3mr96kWzLuhP4XhVFE1G7RLnE0_fEVD_0TFa0q2w4lKjNhmH12S-90IuFM8JyljngsmQqME-6v5xAsq0uSsoxMvbV4sk_eT7_g6f/s1600/DSCF1237.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a>It's a fresh sunny morning when we go for breakfast just along the balcony from our Arabian Nights room. Today's plan is to wander the city a little, find an ATM and also a cyber cafe as the Desert Boys wifi only seems to have any bandwidth in the middle of the night. We can see an ATM from our room and a walk around the foot of the city walls does not take too long.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqn8grleq_7wrVqxEB-75LKzjlTNDQbJ_8TwqME3NG3mr96kWzLuhP4XhVFE1G7RLnE0_fEVD_0TFa0q2w4lKjNhmH12S-90IuFM8JyljngsmQqME-6v5xAsq0uSsoxMvbV4sk_eT7_g6f/s1600/DSCF1237.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqn8grleq_7wrVqxEB-75LKzjlTNDQbJ_8TwqME3NG3mr96kWzLuhP4XhVFE1G7RLnE0_fEVD_0TFa0q2w4lKjNhmH12S-90IuFM8JyljngsmQqME-6v5xAsq0uSsoxMvbV4sk_eT7_g6f/s200/DSCF1237.JPG" width="200" /></a>Jaisalmer is very tourist driven and everybody tries to sell something but a good natured "Not today" or "No thanks. We've already eaten" seems to keep the touts at bay. There is one guy that we keep seeing who says "Hello. When you see me in Jodhpur you buy me a beer". In Jodhpur there was a similar looking chap who tried to claim that we had promised him a beer when we were in Jaisalmer. Full marks for trying.<br />
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D has been having a minor attack of tummy trouble and is feeling below par, so after the chores are done and we have had a cup of tea we return to the room for him to lie down. At least we try to but get thoroughly lost yet again and find the Desert Boys by accident. D is awarded the "Weedy Wet of the Week" award for this.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV1LoIRKjGtcH2mLMQ53JZ9-PuRuOOt9BfTtuZsfQMZN-pNd-vsny7dU0m4rKosb_xbKqG_5f2SvKBng6sXewr-m5HdmlcFgr9Dhhyugkboa71qlsttDXMkb9omaklSC_bmcUMGrP0s72F/s1600/DSCF6413.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV1LoIRKjGtcH2mLMQ53JZ9-PuRuOOt9BfTtuZsfQMZN-pNd-vsny7dU0m4rKosb_xbKqG_5f2SvKBng6sXewr-m5HdmlcFgr9Dhhyugkboa71qlsttDXMkb9omaklSC_bmcUMGrP0s72F/s200/DSCF6413.JPG" width="200" /></a>Today is the third and final day of the Jaisalmer Desert Festival and we have signed up for a trip out into the desert to see the spectacle. There is some confusion about departure time but even<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil1kG8SA8t7oAYu-otfPW58kaPR4RxZD2gUd7TAp2ZnfR3fuZmNWUX2nh51IDY72yPY2SRk0YfZ8hPf-_6SRfJIP6Ajyr_qPAXcR0rYExhApfL1f5U3hfNFHW4h7lpeEbYgMaryBe2wtfk/s1600/DSCF6410.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a>tually we are under way in a full jeep. It looks like we are subsidising the Desert Boys staff outing. When we get to Sam there is a milling mass of people, cars, jeeps and camels. Forget the solitude of the desert - everywhere you look there are compounds of canvas cabins and even roadside off licences. There are some fine examples of opportunity marketing.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil1kG8SA8t7oAYu-otfPW58kaPR4RxZD2gUd7TAp2ZnfR3fuZmNWUX2nh51IDY72yPY2SRk0YfZ8hPf-_6SRfJIP6Ajyr_qPAXcR0rYExhApfL1f5U3hfNFHW4h7lpeEbYgMaryBe2wtfk/s1600/DSCF6410.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil1kG8SA8t7oAYu-otfPW58kaPR4RxZD2gUd7TAp2ZnfR3fuZmNWUX2nh51IDY72yPY2SRk0YfZ8hPf-_6SRfJIP6Ajyr_qPAXcR0rYExhApfL1f5U3hfNFHW4h7lpeEbYgMaryBe2wtfk/s200/DSCF6410.JPG" width="200" /></a>First up is a camel racing event, with commentary by an Indian man who sounds as if he has been taught English by Michael O'Hare. It is chaos. The result is announced and then the judges are asked to make clear where the finishing line is. The crowd seem very happy though. We notice that people are drifting away to the west so we follow to see what is happening..<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbxSEir5pWn4uPdD4XjqZcueECZdoaPikUMk7Z49fnB1jD_nxkM9MfFSuwmCBu7CHZ6WPv7US7g5lLRHv-gtBl8Ax0crCEAs6YnzWBcipXkAVLGQ-EnGwQzifmeB1b1Ol35OzHTZevt7le/s1600/DSCF6435.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbxSEir5pWn4uPdD4XjqZcueECZdoaPikUMk7Z49fnB1jD_nxkM9MfFSuwmCBu7CHZ6WPv7US7g5lLRHv-gtBl8Ax0crCEAs6YnzWBcipXkAVLGQ-EnGwQzifmeB1b1Ol35OzHTZevt7le/s200/DSCF6435.JPG" width="200" /></a> In a hollow there is some kind of jam session going on with an ever expanding group of musicians giving it their all on some energetic percussion numbers. A bit like Santana without the bass. Most entertaining and over all too soon. Some soldiers are laying out green mats on a patch of desert and eventually it becomes clear that this is the seating area in front of the main stage - a flat piece of desert. There are markers for different categories of audience including an area for foreign tourists. We decide to look for somewhere more comfortable to sit and find a sandy slope with a view of sorts.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGJiv81INJOfNBpsg0ewpAwhqL4_o6vl7RvR4LPykzTOj7qLI4CV0C-iLwPbtXceI7UoFpjc-BY0v4zn9WHBcOazMDq7JEZqe9dvuazTa-7utt1NvHARiRymCXPaukKWW5k9rGbgJ0ePjQ/s1600/DSCF6444.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGJiv81INJOfNBpsg0ewpAwhqL4_o6vl7RvR4LPykzTOj7qLI4CV0C-iLwPbtXceI7UoFpjc-BY0v4zn9WHBcOazMDq7JEZqe9dvuazTa-7utt1NvHARiRymCXPaukKWW5k9rGbgJ0ePjQ/s200/DSCF6444.JPG" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia_7LnvVoMfxieW01-EpSjC6zl7QxjKyVekXA3yb8vB_uDqdkNhpDmg5n8UiRp9IYCAaTqCUbkJu0iQnsf-QC54-3biqL06pygxMw57L92XQ5ro-T8VN0H_-QuezAIv5LVB2UIp22KbheW/s1600/DSCF6460.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia_7LnvVoMfxieW01-EpSjC6zl7QxjKyVekXA3yb8vB_uDqdkNhpDmg5n8UiRp9IYCAaTqCUbkJu0iQnsf-QC54-3biqL06pygxMw57L92XQ5ro-T8VN0H_-QuezAIv5LVB2UIp22KbheW/s200/DSCF6460.JPG" width="200" /></a>Behind us all the fun of the fair is going on with various vendors selling ice cream, chai,noisy toys, balloons, water at 3 times par and roasted peanuts. D's tummy has settled a little so we have 30 rupees worth of the latter, a huge bag. We shall probably be bringing some home. The sun is setting and the moon rising over this desert melee.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia7HxEQeFR9SzxI8yatYMRLttlCah8puWou8Fsqt2URyG0R6TjPQNP0LRde-AJMTbklzWgwM7f-FW2FtOZr2qYy4UW-FQ6p_NaXqc7GUXm2nP-j8WWvPUTiG-hnKHTl8gtTPAaCXoVdZ6Y/s1600/DSCF6488.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia7HxEQeFR9SzxI8yatYMRLttlCah8puWou8Fsqt2URyG0R6TjPQNP0LRde-AJMTbklzWgwM7f-FW2FtOZr2qYy4UW-FQ6p_NaXqc7GUXm2nP-j8WWvPUTiG-hnKHTl8gtTPAaCXoVdZ6Y/s200/DSCF6488.JPG" width="200" /></a>The event is due to commence at 6.30 p.m. At 7.15 the lights go on and they do a perfunctory sound check. Then nothing. Eventually the first act is introduced (at great length in two languages). By now we have to stand to see the stage which is frequently obscured by photographers. The lady entertainers have colourful and sparkling costumes. One of the acts is a Sufi band. Sufis are the original whirling dervishes and the climax to their performance is some dextrous twirling by a spectacularly clad lady dancer.<br />
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We are just starting to tire a little when our hosts phone to ask when we might want to leave. Now seems like a good idea so we make our way back to the road, warding off the chaps who want to sell us a camel ride. There is chaos on the road but amazingly R spots our hosts and their jeep in the darkness and we are soon on board for the ride home. We stop to pick up two German girls who have got stuck without a lift somehow and it is a very cosy trip back to Jaisalmer. We need no rocking to sleep tonight.</div>
R+D's travelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11203558327305830800noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2706194841314251325.post-70987640712128165382013-02-26T12:32:00.000+05:302013-02-26T12:32:06.374+05:30Sunday 24th - Cranes, trains and lunch<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHwv16ib2Evw11jsFSO-Px5UUxcg0USuUwGLA6SnRU0IY4T36d90uTKUVuRX40D0Df_m1SC2g3BOnryb3FTziu_-ZrD8XZeU_tkhY3MV9Fsq-R0yp98tzgO2yI9pRayzOVmVK8wW49aORq/s1600/DSCF6308.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHwv16ib2Evw11jsFSO-Px5UUxcg0USuUwGLA6SnRU0IY4T36d90uTKUVuRX40D0Df_m1SC2g3BOnryb3FTziu_-ZrD8XZeU_tkhY3MV9Fsq-R0yp98tzgO2yI9pRayzOVmVK8wW49aORq/s200/DSCF6308.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-plrOYcRtvXMNBArKepL8Ti7wwiqnMMoZUwZF4jBHO3UtsTOg78rbtNLZt8qYafTSOWQ_6zPNxD3fURACUNgwFjE-Yvy7UTpbqcWeBU1MUXE-V1-UlUNPFNrYa7yt0IzRvWpP7V8YZ8XE/s1600/DSCF6330.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a>D wakes early from a nightmare about trying to get luggage onto a coach full of elephants. We dress warmly and make our way down to reception. The hotel staff are sleeping on the floor and although we try to be quiet they rouse themselves. At exactly 6.30 our auto arrives , driven by a very smart young man who takes a different route to Khichan - one with a much better road surface. He also takes us to a different spot in the village. A man ushers us throough a gate and up stairs onto the flat roof of a house that overlooks an enclosed area where a man is tipping grain out of sacks onto the ground. There are also a couple of injured cranes in the enclosure.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi3JMMF1kMBhqD_jTLeAXQtrcKY8A_78IPB5RLAJt74lJ5Quk5oISitO74RyDyagqxhR41h3D3XlhLKHUMkPBt3v2OxP1-U3j6blaY4ZJx6iRmiKjv2qBtLxUNMnKIG68A8v6ZkhmLZLrQ/s1600/DSCF6323.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi3JMMF1kMBhqD_jTLeAXQtrcKY8A_78IPB5RLAJt74lJ5Quk5oISitO74RyDyagqxhR41h3D3XlhLKHUMkPBt3v2OxP1-U3j6blaY4ZJx6iRmiKjv2qBtLxUNMnKIG68A8v6ZkhmLZLrQ/s200/DSCF6323.JPG" width="200" /></a>There is a Dutch couple already on the roof who stayed here in a homestay last night. They had looked at Phalodi and decided to move on. We are joined by our host and then suddenly we see cranes flying out of the early morning mist. They overfly us and disappear to the south. Soon there are hundreds if not thousands above us flying in groups. It really is a spectacular sight. <br /><br /> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-plrOYcRtvXMNBArKepL8Ti7wwiqnMMoZUwZF4jBHO3UtsTOg78rbtNLZt8qYafTSOWQ_6zPNxD3fURACUNgwFjE-Yvy7UTpbqcWeBU1MUXE-V1-UlUNPFNrYa7yt0IzRvWpP7V8YZ8XE/s1600/DSCF6330.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-plrOYcRtvXMNBArKepL8Ti7wwiqnMMoZUwZF4jBHO3UtsTOg78rbtNLZt8qYafTSOWQ_6zPNxD3fURACUNgwFjE-Yvy7UTpbqcWeBU1MUXE-V1-UlUNPFNrYa7yt0IzRvWpP7V8YZ8XE/s200/DSCF6330.JPG" width="200" /></a>We are given chai by the owner of the house who is a passionate campaigner for the cranes, having even won a court case against the Rajasthan Electricity Board. He has meticulous daily records of what time the birds appear, what time they start to feed in the enclosure and when they leave. For the past couple of weeks there have been no evening sightings so we were lucky. Feeding usually starts between <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi57dY222y0TWRAp3xTx5AkVB23zZzrIGs44Ovl7EcTSno3t2Ep3Fb20jfirp2J-IIJgAvIEMIJb0fP66LOE4a3eD2o_MjD6MdSj4-FpemhAqwNrEkEa135j4UvtcZwrD2AOILnQw_cC1bJ/s1600/DSCF6345.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi57dY222y0TWRAp3xTx5AkVB23zZzrIGs44Ovl7EcTSno3t2Ep3Fb20jfirp2J-IIJgAvIEMIJb0fP66LOE4a3eD2o_MjD6MdSj4-FpemhAqwNrEkEa135j4UvtcZwrD2AOILnQw_cC1bJ/s200/DSCF6345.JPG" width="200" /></a>8 and 9 so we will have to miss that if we are to breakfast and catch our 10 a.m. train. We make a contribution to the bird seed fund and return to the auto. <br /><br /><br /> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicw4qNB9SUHBK41PUPzm33uC_cTIDazF9gn8wgYeI5lTDwH3q0sxIBwmBOcugEWDgoiXlo2L05HqycbXyMcM0AypAk6a1I69goy3CmvhPKYfv4dXMaIFsiFSxJqTx9UQHcBepNCIS2PFYL/s1600/DSCF6351.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicw4qNB9SUHBK41PUPzm33uC_cTIDazF9gn8wgYeI5lTDwH3q0sxIBwmBOcugEWDgoiXlo2L05HqycbXyMcM0AypAk6a1I69goy3CmvhPKYfv4dXMaIFsiFSxJqTx9UQHcBepNCIS2PFYL/s200/DSCF6351.JPG" width="200" /></a>Our driver has been talking to a young local man who is offering to take us to another place where the birds can be seen. We say that we have to be quick and he leads us to a couple of enclosures on the south of the village where the cranes are thick on the ground and less than 50 metres away. Brilliant. The man who recommended coming here is totally forgiven (you know who you are VA).<br /><br />As always when you are in a bit of a hurry everything slows down. Mr and Mrs Grumpy at the hotel have upset the breakfast waiter who is on go slow. We order just tea and toast in the hope that this won't take too long. Fat chance. When we go to check out Mr G is there again to argue about each line of his bill. We get sorted and they summon an auto for us. The same smart young man appears. At the station the floor of the booking hall/waiting room is mostly covered in cow poo. There is only one booking window open and a longish queue, most of whom seem to be clutching several ticket request forms. A local asks where we are going and advises that the unreserved window will open in a few minutes. He is right and we don't have to adopt R's suggestion of ticketless travel.<br /><br /> The train is a Bikaner-Jaisalmer local that has fairly recently been downgraded from having reserved a<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9O-4JuobgJW-j78dLNXPHHE6-Rf2OwcPgkTNG_xc3-Xd8lq6e2-rhjzdQoic6iIb_Sy0tgSsiBzpzSJloprFzCesnhB72N4yl6xLK35dDsj9Rx0C7fXSjFQpjzhyg-bO70XixoS35a5SO/s1600/DSCF6359.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9O-4JuobgJW-j78dLNXPHHE6-Rf2OwcPgkTNG_xc3-Xd8lq6e2-rhjzdQoic6iIb_Sy0tgSsiBzpzSJloprFzCesnhB72N4yl6xLK35dDsj9Rx0C7fXSjFQpjzhyg-bO70XixoS35a5SO/s200/DSCF6359.JPG" width="200" /></a>ccommodation. By a fluke we get into a coach where there is an empty luggage rack so we can dump our bags there. People shuffle up a bit and make room for R to sit on a fourperson bench that has at least six on it. D is engaged in conversation by a man with very good English who wants to know why we aren't visiting Bikaner. He also tells us that most people on the train will be getting off in about 40 km at Ramdevra - apparently famous for its temples. D has to stand for an hour or so but gets a turn at the door so it is no real hardship.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUFpLpj6fjJQkP_ypgflc0lDCGz3ruuafrGVLgVQvZQBMYdxj9LvyR6g_yvdNG7jzAGsiTnssT7SXJgVIcs7RczNZIBR7zpZqFv7TVcq5nQbKPYXmfcfS7SYSbMxufIEbA7SdaQG-0fwp8/s1600/DSCF6368.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUFpLpj6fjJQkP_ypgflc0lDCGz3ruuafrGVLgVQvZQBMYdxj9LvyR6g_yvdNG7jzAGsiTnssT7SXJgVIcs7RczNZIBR7zpZqFv7TVcq5nQbKPYXmfcfS7SYSbMxufIEbA7SdaQG-0fwp8/s200/DSCF6368.JPG" width="200" /></a> The man is right and we get a pair of facing window seats which include the emergency exit window which can be fully opened so there are no bars. The country is getting progressively drier and sandier and we get covered in a fine dust. Behind us are two Austrian ladies who were so totally wrapped up in scarves and blankets that we didn't notice them. Our train was late leaving Phalodi and loses more time waiting to cross eastbound trains at some of the passing loops. Normally this wouldn't matter but today we have a lunch date. One of the trains we cross actually has a few people sitting on the train roof, apparently quite rare these days. R declines to follow their example.<br /><br /> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_g3ZaatqCf-q3xxATg50FVBXy3_TRae7W4unuHgCj0iqGHfG4PFd3Rk-X1UldZ6WjshI6QauoewObAAyBTezUEOimEQwSoZwd4u6Zlv5hdr8O2bLysj0mrpu4tvlimIToi1cQqZX1BxqL/s1600/IM+JSM+Meet-up+2.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_g3ZaatqCf-q3xxATg50FVBXy3_TRae7W4unuHgCj0iqGHfG4PFd3Rk-X1UldZ6WjshI6QauoewObAAyBTezUEOimEQwSoZwd4u6Zlv5hdr8O2bLysj0mrpu4tvlimIToi1cQqZX1BxqL/s200/IM+JSM+Meet-up+2.jpg" width="200" /></a> Once the road is clear our loco pilot makes a valiant effort to regain some time but is thwarted just outside Jaisalmer station where we wait for several minutes before crawling in at a snail's pace. The "Palace on Wheels" is in the station but there is no time to linger. We drop lucky and get a car for a reasonable price to the restaurant where some of D's India Mike forum pals are waiting for us. After handshakes, introductions and a very welcome cold beer a jolly lunch party ensues. <br /><br /> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNeaOhpYSg5Pzrz4XJYULJWIsAQGP7AFEyFmhseuR6hKcsqx4l0rXS2DhONYkZFgzp1sCAZsG9_DJOsh67SsTkBeEOac1ZZopdUkVBuCpImmWIVYFAj0np-JlA4bBGoeIeETUfQB85-QgV/s1600/DSCF1231.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNeaOhpYSg5Pzrz4XJYULJWIsAQGP7AFEyFmhseuR6hKcsqx4l0rXS2DhONYkZFgzp1sCAZsG9_DJOsh67SsTkBeEOac1ZZopdUkVBuCpImmWIVYFAj0np-JlA4bBGoeIeETUfQB85-QgV/s200/DSCF1231.JPG" width="200" /></a>A couple of hours flies by and it is time for us all to go our separate ways. Our hotel has said that if we phone them they will send an auto for us. Good job too as we would never have found the Desert Boys amongst the winding lanes and alleys of the Jaisalmer Fort. our room is small but interesting with stone steps up to a bed recess. We dump our bags and realise that we are exhausted. After a short stroll around we call it a night and by 9 p.m. we are sound asleep.<br /></div>
R+D's travelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11203558327305830800noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2706194841314251325.post-22911107055280835272013-02-26T12:12:00.000+05:302013-02-26T12:12:00.669+05:30Saturday 23rd - Third Class Ticket <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoQhHTb8pgv1n_fDVKYNGNd9i36Sda1PnRH9EDGzKi-zgDGO1V-XBUXGBJKlNUOlIUQSNJjPfp1kQdfPjRBcQOWmagavb-mIRRMxPsJS3LDw_Tmv_aAS2D1DawB5QFc7RW6Ns5jm49juAy/s1600/DSCF6262.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a>R has volunteered for an extra train trip today rather than a trip in a hired car. This involves a 6.30 alarm and an early start for the station. We have been promised packed breakfasts but when we get up we realise that there has been a very heavy storm overnight. D goes up to the rooftop to find out about things. They are very apologetic but forgot as they were having to deal with a marquee that blew away. That must have come a shock to the clubbers.</div>
<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioqqFu_-TsQthSvxe_Ve6aPhi1_Mmqo3VjMiZ5nYasnOXkXHhcGPJYUAcHqjiFQkz8kFOIuo0__m-1DPAP8GYDjrcExIsm4qmstsRQ_I_hKWbyAzDzzFhAOMd2Cb3soK6QhcqMmw1Ni8zu/s1600/DSCF6232.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioqqFu_-TsQthSvxe_Ve6aPhi1_Mmqo3VjMiZ5nYasnOXkXHhcGPJYUAcHqjiFQkz8kFOIuo0__m-1DPAP8GYDjrcExIsm4qmstsRQ_I_hKWbyAzDzzFhAOMd2Cb3soK6QhcqMmw1Ni8zu/s200/DSCF6232.JPG" width="200" /></a>The streets are covered in puddles and cow poo and it takes a few minutes to find an auto. The weather still looks more like Scotland than Rajasthan. At the station R is parked with the luggage while D queues for tickets. This queue is better behaved than either Old Delhi or Sealdah and D is soon at the window to request 2 tickets to Phalodi. "Only General Sir. No A/c" The clerk seems worried about our choice but D persists and hands over 50 rupees (62 pence) for 2 tickets for a journey of 110 km. Our train is at the platform and starting to fill up but we find a pair of window seats facing each other and get comfy. The chai we buy on the platform is particularly good and breakfast is completed with a packet of butter biscuits.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi89GET7AWzjruPWk_gdW21l-4m_t3B_cWh-jaUzkJgDCmSjEVHn8g8aXlQAz0Z1DDaOWZi4p5aYWw6xCax5_ZuP6QQbAswfO-c5yyeTC3jIPz_-HDXIDn8sTq9G62diFh6ZvxX6oN-1prB/s1600/DSCF6249.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi89GET7AWzjruPWk_gdW21l-4m_t3B_cWh-jaUzkJgDCmSjEVHn8g8aXlQAz0Z1DDaOWZi4p5aYWw6xCax5_ZuP6QQbAswfO-c5yyeTC3jIPz_-HDXIDn8sTq9G62diFh6ZvxX6oN-1prB/s200/DSCF6249.JPG" width="200" /></a> Departure is due at 8.30 which comes and goes. The train keeps filling and by the time we leave at 9.15 there appear to be no seats left. We get our first view of a Hirja who is extracting money as he/she progresses along the coach. We are rather surprised when we just get ignored but are relieved to be spared the expense. The first stop is only about half a mile and quite a lot of people get on. By the time we leave the next station, on the outskirts of the city, the coach is jammed full, with people sitting on luggage racks and the floor and others standing. Personal space is a non starter but most people seem to be polite and reasonably considerate. D makes a new friend.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDoMwbiDBplZImebenE1jYz0g_WprOnHMr0tn4_QTtJsT9gBPKZj1YYNp4fZNvP4AdlbYsp_ViHMwMqrskTMioSrri5pla-rPxh86g1OObRVAsF0T5o2Prx6XU2GreFf7JyPCUFKktkoXt/s1600/DSCF6253.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDoMwbiDBplZImebenE1jYz0g_WprOnHMr0tn4_QTtJsT9gBPKZj1YYNp4fZNvP4AdlbYsp_ViHMwMqrskTMioSrri5pla-rPxh86g1OObRVAsF0T5o2Prx6XU2GreFf7JyPCUFKktkoXt/s200/DSCF6253.JPG" width="200" /></a>By the time our three hour ride is drawing to a close the crowd has thinned a little and D is able to draw up a cunning plan to extract our luggage. At Phalodi this works well until D gets to the coach door. The widest lady we have seen in India insists on climbing on board. D cannot retreat as there is a crowd behind who also wish to leave the train. There are some strong views exchanged and somehow D, trolley bag, and rucsac squeeze past Mrs Elephant.<br /><br /> We have booked with the Lal Niwas ( red stone) hotel and we take an <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9kXhajW7-Ix3qLDHoVDhtai6gzPRWxeORofUOVhGrBDRLRQodn8Ky6ggTv3X2hP4lUXNSV_NNANKRZ4SBSLV0kMGnjz7rBLH_ZEJFtAz6yRb7UGBEPoLn91EjdVoftPpcR9gVtimqmm6B/s1600/DSCF6263.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9kXhajW7-Ix3qLDHoVDhtai6gzPRWxeORofUOVhGrBDRLRQodn8Ky6ggTv3X2hP4lUXNSV_NNANKRZ4SBSLV0kMGnjz7rBLH_ZEJFtAz6yRb7UGBEPoLn91EjdVoftPpcR9gVtimqmm6B/s200/DSCF6263.JPG" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoQhHTb8pgv1n_fDVKYNGNd9i36Sda1PnRH9EDGzKi-zgDGO1V-XBUXGBJKlNUOlIUQSNJjPfp1kQdfPjRBcQOWmagavb-mIRRMxPsJS3LDw_Tmv_aAS2D1DawB5QFc7RW6Ns5jm49juAy/s1600/DSCF6262.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoQhHTb8pgv1n_fDVKYNGNd9i36Sda1PnRH9EDGzKi-zgDGO1V-XBUXGBJKlNUOlIUQSNJjPfp1kQdfPjRBcQOWmagavb-mIRRMxPsJS3LDw_Tmv_aAS2D1DawB5QFc7RW6Ns5jm49juAy/s200/DSCF6262.JPG" width="150" /></a>auto. Inevitably we pay twice the going rate because we don't know where we are headed. The hotel is a very nice old haveli that is undergoing renovations. Our room is very quaint with numerous doors off. The bathroom window opens straight onto a busy street. Fortunately the shutters can be secured.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-ZvburkZMCH2wpqxqx5ZZHMiJEulXactt1ptm4NNB66VcVBlE3ittn8MKt1pLV0t_o_D5Bt2rPXhdDt6aoSDES0Myo2XivCTB-9u6YJVf75aXAAeug6KEOsqJrv0c1pJlHmmihfuFCBsk/s1600/DSCF6284.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-ZvburkZMCH2wpqxqx5ZZHMiJEulXactt1ptm4NNB66VcVBlE3ittn8MKt1pLV0t_o_D5Bt2rPXhdDt6aoSDES0Myo2XivCTB-9u6YJVf75aXAAeug6KEOsqJrv0c1pJlHmmihfuFCBsk/s200/DSCF6284.JPG" width="200" /></a> Lonely Planet says very little about Phalodi while the Rough Guide is positively rude about the place. At first it seems like the latter may be right until we find ourselves in a maze of streets away from the station and the main road through. The town has countless barber shops (a bit like Linlithgow really) and more urban cows than we have seen anywhere. More urban cows = more urban cow poo. As we stroll the back streets everybody wants to say hello and many to have their photo taken. It appears that Western tourists are still a bit of a novelty in this part of the world. R is adopted by a group of school girls who want her to come home with them but their dad doesn't think much of that idea. She finds a sweet seller who has orange flavoured boiled sweets and gets 3 times as much for her money as she has anywhere else.<br /><br />Eventually we find ourselves back at the hotel and make ourselves a cup of tea. We read the guidebooks again to see what they tell us any more about the Desmoiselle cranes that we came here to see. They don't even agree with each other on the very little information they have so we decide therefore to make a foray to the village of Khichan to see for ourselves. We are told that the birds come in to the village at 5.00 p.m so ask an auto driver to take us there. He is delighted with this huge fare (200 rupees) but keeps stopping to ask the way. Eventually we are guided to a pond where we wait and watch. <br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4fPWZfhgsIunuVVjFc5NuGNDFIL5SBel91dludPircO7T-SECplCh-PNCJ7lf1SCV0VTJIOCP-uAzEziCl6Lwl4evZrn02_J4h6f7o0jwFhRzy2j6jo9NzmdVUn9DyTaFtySzHW86pT40/s1600/DSCF6293.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4fPWZfhgsIunuVVjFc5NuGNDFIL5SBel91dludPircO7T-SECplCh-PNCJ7lf1SCV0VTJIOCP-uAzEziCl6Lwl4evZrn02_J4h6f7o0jwFhRzy2j6jo9NzmdVUn9DyTaFtySzHW86pT40/s200/DSCF6293.JPG" width="200" /></a> After a while a large group of cranes appear in the sky, circle and fly back whence they came. The flock wheels again and comes back overhead, quite a sight, before turning round and disappearing. Can that be it? The auto driver comes down to the pond with young man from the area and he said yes, that's it, when we spot a lone crane which lands on the other side of the pond down in a dip. We walk over to the far side of the pond from where we can get a clear view. We console ourselves with the thought that at least we have seen something and curse the man who recommended this visit. The sun is sinking rapidly and there is a very cold breeze coming from somewhere so we call time on the ornithology.<br /><br />
Our boneshaking ride back to the hotel has earned us a refreshment. The bar is opened specially for us. Judging by the decor it was last open in 1976. At least the beers were nice and cold after 37 years in the fridge. In contrast the hotel's vegetarian restaurant was so newly refurbished that we could smell the paint. The sevice and the food were both very good according to us. The other diners were an Indian couple who did not like anything and complained loudly and often. R had sought advice about the cranes from the front desk and as we ate a man came to the table to confirm that our auto had been booked for 06.30 (Groan - D)<br /><br />When we got back to our room R came over all Indian and hammered on the connecting door to the next room who had the TV volume up to painful. It worked.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div>
R+D's travelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11203558327305830800noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2706194841314251325.post-20266490191981464832013-02-25T12:12:00.001+05:302013-02-25T12:24:41.858+05:30Friday 22nd - The Long and Winding Road<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Relaxation time is over and we are back to cross country road travel. Davendra was going to arrange things for his friend to drive us but then decided that he would do it and take the chance to spend a couple of days with his family. No flash Innova this time but a perfectly seviceable Tata Indigo. We have a final breakfst with a view then make our farewells at the Jaiwana Haveli and settle in for the ride.<br />
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The road is quite good at first and even better when we join a toll motorway. This doesn't last for long and we are then on a narrow and winding cross country road but it does have a decent surface. We head roughly north and climb steadily. Davendra tells us that we have crossed the summit between the Mewar territory and that of the Marwars. The Marwars appear to lack basic road maintenance skills. We jolt down a winding, pitted road through forested valleys getting an occasional glimpse of the temples below.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimLNXabygs6GMekcPZJVkx2lR6Cu8hyXMrMQcrNftm_XXQ6jhlkKy6_M10B8tJKY3717bCKRjjnCtJifb-eV8r2FDEBz_2uWZ-8wWFx4uVuK9K97_odxWiJ3gthwNh7koA46BoNmSLqM_O/s1600/DSCF6166.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimLNXabygs6GMekcPZJVkx2lR6Cu8hyXMrMQcrNftm_XXQ6jhlkKy6_M10B8tJKY3717bCKRjjnCtJifb-eV8r2FDEBz_2uWZ-8wWFx4uVuK9K97_odxWiJ3gthwNh7koA46BoNmSLqM_O/s200/DSCF6166.JPG" width="200" /></a>We arrive at Ranakpur at about 11.45. This gives us time to purchase our camera permit and study the various conflicting sets of rules for the admittance of tourists. At noon prompt we are given the OK to climb the temple steps. bShoes and water are left at the bottom. At the security check we discover that we should have also left our phones and R's stash of sweeties (for the chilren says R). The phones have to go back to the office while the security people take charge of the goodies.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYb3vrrXfoqQgISZ0EKXq8JcucRpG8RGwII894FxEiF4TA9MEB8GK-CHaB_jyX0Tp4znWZRNfLGAQbd3JAPFqFZjubIZGVebj9bjQWBOV3xCXofjJlQTPvSdWhRLwyjkP3zbrF1JManHVH/s1600/DSCF6196.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYb3vrrXfoqQgISZ0EKXq8JcucRpG8RGwII894FxEiF4TA9MEB8GK-CHaB_jyX0Tp4znWZRNfLGAQbd3JAPFqFZjubIZGVebj9bjQWBOV3xCXofjJlQTPvSdWhRLwyjkP3zbrF1JManHVH/s200/DSCF6196.JPG" width="200" /></a>Inside we are greeted by a youth who tells us that his family have looked after the temple for over 400 years. He takes us for a whirlwind tour, explaining some of the key features and telling us where we can and can't photo. At the end of his talk we are tapped for a donation. D ignores the prominently displayed Rs 500/- note and pitches for a lesser heaven. We are then free to wander and photograph as we wish as long as we do not take pictures of the idols.<br />
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After an hour or so we return to the car and resume our journey to Jodhpur. Pretty soon we are out of the hillsd and on the plain. The roads are not great and when we join the main highway it becomes positivelt dangerous. There is upgrade work going on to make this a dual carriageway but so far not much of this is open. Most of the traffic is heavy trucks and some of the car drivers perform near suicidal manouevres to get past. Davendra doesn't try anything silly but he is clearly frustrated by the slow progress. R now confirms that she wishes our onward travel to be by train rather than car. Harrumble!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7YnE-NdKG_DDUReQBdvM3VhNhNbmv22uWiK1zhmGlnm0nml0QCrT5A7CJzzQ1Uux1p_NsT7GHrzRT-wmk7XUMQLhh0kf-fIM6Y1xkWCnm_TkrYblDdsv4G-4MDGsPbxxSAQpRmas6QIcA/s1600/DSCF6208.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7YnE-NdKG_DDUReQBdvM3VhNhNbmv22uWiK1zhmGlnm0nml0QCrT5A7CJzzQ1Uux1p_NsT7GHrzRT-wmk7XUMQLhh0kf-fIM6Y1xkWCnm_TkrYblDdsv4G-4MDGsPbxxSAQpRmas6QIcA/s200/DSCF6208.JPG" width="200" /></a>At last we turn off the main drag and onto a reasonably good road. Almost immediately we cross a bridge over the railway and see a train of flat cars carrying about a dozen metre gauge or narrow gauge coaches. presumably they are headed to the breakers yard. Just as we are getting thoroughly sick of car travel we see the familiar site of the Meherangarh Fort which dominates the city of Jodhpur. Davendra knoews our hotel which is the Haveli Inn Pal, not the Pal Haveli Inn. The two hotels are apparently owned by brothers and share an entrance and courtyard. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOfBuTawc1oo-5njmLX9F-DKqq_TWG1o4gDoHOIT97Ef7ecNSILmX4I0KxO6FJ9rBjyC84Ek9C4ST08uqDuLHV8IaDSApjQMmVpAZTaGS5KWLH3YwGH-Apo5JfJdEVJpz-VLp2GSY5ouZx/s1600/DSCF6210.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOfBuTawc1oo-5njmLX9F-DKqq_TWG1o4gDoHOIT97Ef7ecNSILmX4I0KxO6FJ9rBjyC84Ek9C4ST08uqDuLHV8IaDSApjQMmVpAZTaGS5KWLH3YwGH-Apo5JfJdEVJpz-VLp2GSY5ouZx/s200/DSCF6210.JPG" width="200" /></a>6210 We book in and are shown to our room which has a rather splendid four poster bed but no window. The duty manager has instilled a certain apprehension by saying that there is no 8.30 train to Phalodi. A check with Indiarailinfo is needed but there is a fault with the wifi which is being repaired. We head out into the bazaar around the clock tower and then along the main drag in search of a couple of beers and some incense. R resists the offers from the incense stalls in the shadow of the tower and buys from a scruffy bloke with a handcart halfway up the main street for less than half the price. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZeBIxFsgciQhFMh48ibSN5Gs1PBVlAt1a9wjRQl7q1rz8lS6VJRnjDTmzDwPBuZUQSS2AQ1QPqVdOAmLbIxkoeOqldjbPbr8Piof8VleYxFu2GRM3MKTda-C3f_eMlEFNMWuF8yMzJuGX/s1600/DSCF6213.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZeBIxFsgciQhFMh48ibSN5Gs1PBVlAt1a9wjRQl7q1rz8lS6VJRnjDTmzDwPBuZUQSS2AQ1QPqVdOAmLbIxkoeOqldjbPbr8Piof8VleYxFu2GRM3MKTda-C3f_eMlEFNMWuF8yMzJuGX/s200/DSCF6213.JPG" width="200" /></a> The Lovely Wines" Off licence takes scruffy to a new level but does supply a couple of cold Kingfishers after D positively refuses to buy some other beer that they were keen to sell. Presumably it was about to hit its sell by date.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkM0s_AMhzL99aFZJM1KiJV3bweCZ8g8DLeB7FXvz0bdwU9c5aoNglh9X64vf2pl3wgxNognHt4zYDDljYwg9wA3FOmdr9kd4M3nVJ-YXZBUKkvbT6WQ14jvML2WjmZeJv7lREDchRzp0G/s1600/DSCF6220.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkM0s_AMhzL99aFZJM1KiJV3bweCZ8g8DLeB7FXvz0bdwU9c5aoNglh9X64vf2pl3wgxNognHt4zYDDljYwg9wA3FOmdr9kd4M3nVJ-YXZBUKkvbT6WQ14jvML2WjmZeJv7lREDchRzp0G/s1600/DSCF6220.JPG" width="200" /></a>Back at the hotel R goes to book dinner while D eventually gets the wifi up and running. There is an 8.30 train to Jaisalmer via Phalodi. We do some online catching up until it is time to head for dinner at L'Indique on the roof of the Pal Haveli. This gives a great view of the fort and much of the city. R cannot now decide whether this is the most stunning dining location she has been in or the one yesterday. D votes for tonight's venue as the train hooters from the station are clearly audible and exerting their magic.<br />
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R notices that there is some sort of coloured light display at the fort, which we later discover is part of a Sufi music festival. Because of our early start we settle our bill and are promised packed breakfasts will be ready for our departure. <br />
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We are glad that we did not go clubbing tonight. <br />
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R+D's travelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11203558327305830800noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2706194841314251325.post-42052440800214218292013-02-25T12:11:00.001+05:302013-02-25T12:25:00.074+05:30Website is playing silly bloggers at the moment so we can't finish off our latest post. Normal service will be resumed asap.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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R+D's travelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11203558327305830800noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2706194841314251325.post-43156800505282072342013-02-22T20:28:00.001+05:302013-02-22T20:54:26.228+05:30Thursday - Lakes and gardens, but mainly lakes<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5tVzHyMcudDBvJq-jGj587SDzI5niYzpyfcHl9s5HGI2S-BPCkEE3Cg8nZbFgZeAKTH5EWD7s-AtgBpYnJABHiVr4__n9bRSkgv-U-lHCRdDkRV_GaMECPBOYppcG3p44VaaDRk1ScuTK/s1600/DSCF6055.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5tVzHyMcudDBvJq-jGj587SDzI5niYzpyfcHl9s5HGI2S-BPCkEE3Cg8nZbFgZeAKTH5EWD7s-AtgBpYnJABHiVr4__n9bRSkgv-U-lHCRdDkRV_GaMECPBOYppcG3p44VaaDRk1ScuTK/s200/DSCF6055.JPG" width="200" /></a>R was so impressed with her yoga class that she decides to go for another one this morning. She says that she is learning a lot and hopes to pass on some new stuff to her class back home. As a result we join the sluggards for a late breakfast. Today's plan is to look at some of the bits of Udaipur that we missed last time round.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFGOHgFc1uOOLGdECAOpRxwvG5jvz5BkIC8gZCD4-RyNaU2ntDecpB0Bmz2sbEahr2N8BjwC_j_BEXD58MDxb0FBKrMRTwMg8D3CLbsoDfsFsM7FFvOj6Thw1QvyrmtmJC286c6vNqrhmy/s1600/DSCF6130.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFGOHgFc1uOOLGdECAOpRxwvG5jvz5BkIC8gZCD4-RyNaU2ntDecpB0Bmz2sbEahr2N8BjwC_j_BEXD58MDxb0FBKrMRTwMg8D3CLbsoDfsFsM7FFvOj6Thw1QvyrmtmJC286c6vNqrhmy/s200/DSCF6130.JPG" width="200" /></a>We start by heading for the markets area but we find this a bit disappointing compared with some places so move on by auto to Saheliyon Ki Bari. There is a very modest admission charge (5 rupees) to these well maintained gardens that feature a number of fountains. The garden is shaded by trees and the foliage and floral colours are beautiful. After the hubbub of the town it's a welcome break although a few more benches would not go amiss.<br />
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Our next target is Fateh Sagar, the upper of the city's two lakes. We are navigating using a map pulled out of the centre of a tourist brochure and it isn't very good (says D). We have a lengthy route march via a very upmarket housing area. There is clearly some serious money around here. The locals try to be helpful but their directions are a bit vague. Eventually we get there and it is worth the effort.<br />
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We stroll along one of the retaining walls which has been converted into and esplanade and currently has a traffic ban while the road surface is repaired. There is a lovely cooling breeze and the only irritant is the piped music that emanates from every lamp-post.<br />
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The Udaipur auto drivers must have an association with the Chennai branch as their idea of a cheap auto ride is much the same - and they all want you to visit their brother's shop. What these people need is some competition from Ahmedabad. We eventually get a quote for a ride across town to the Garden Hotel and Vintage car museum that does not give D apoplexy. The Garden Hotel is another of HRH's establishments but the prices here a little more in tune with reality and we take a refreshment whilst watching the squirrels.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYN24n9SkUWK1riUdLQhYRAZQR_RIpAFJM503xOphrepVxGh3-EO3cRRKDXfSaqivTnT_smdhpqubQEec67rriN9zCoca9WtR7io_KIe42OisvE6OqWKQVjX9E9rTNofXwL9_epjyJ-U3g/s1600/DSCF6145.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYN24n9SkUWK1riUdLQhYRAZQR_RIpAFJM503xOphrepVxGh3-EO3cRRKDXfSaqivTnT_smdhpqubQEec67rriN9zCoca9WtR7io_KIe42OisvE6OqWKQVjX9E9rTNofXwL9_epjyJ-U3g/s200/DSCF6145.JPG" width="200" /></a> We decide that vintage cars are not really for us and opt for a an afternoon siesta before a farcical half hour on the terrace trying to take a worthwhile picture with the time delay on D's camera. This is the best that we managed. Don't laugh. We had out to our chosen restaurant - the Ambrai - voted the most sensational location possible by R. We have no booking and are told that we can only have an hour but that's OK by us. We must have been green last time that we were here as the prices seem horrendous in comparison with Gujarat but the food is excellent and the views sensational..<br />
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Another night without going clubbing.</div>
R+D's travelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11203558327305830800noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2706194841314251325.post-28560420952579595352013-02-21T21:44:00.000+05:302013-02-21T21:44:02.893+05:30Wednesday 20th - Beer and bagpipes<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwkSOg7BPAAyvDGSpUXt5J_UW7ODg5Kp0jK_yYPJVrGnnwtxhf3km7EGe8rQdxe9nHIn6hMdd8klEEwogJ0J06gFIhbEYQbXHNt-r1lSaPYixgz9XRPr7l2h79qsIXDmzkViAuoD9tkYVK/s1600/DSCF6016.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUW7V7DbGNqDL5pOhtosRhsZ5MIg5y4_CjafDfHD1sZ2oBS4fr4kMtnKAgt0y5kllYJYN6uNSW1-36H4HDe41aHWl9EdMViXwCoqwsc9TwwyEXwrJGkwOCIkQ164Iolx1Xc8lKhZKzuG1a/s1600/DSCF6019.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUW7V7DbGNqDL5pOhtosRhsZ5MIg5y4_CjafDfHD1sZ2oBS4fr4kMtnKAgt0y5kllYJYN6uNSW1-36H4HDe41aHWl9EdMViXwCoqwsc9TwwyEXwrJGkwOCIkQ164Iolx1Xc8lKhZKzuG1a/s200/DSCF6019.JPG" width="200" /></a>Our car awaits outside Udaipur station and whisks us away to the Jaiwana Haveli where we are given the same room that we had the first time we stayed. It is a lovely cool room with marble floors and fittings and its own roof terrace overlooking the lake. We realise that it is exactly two years to the day since we were here last. Breakfast is still being served so we descend three <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwkSOg7BPAAyvDGSpUXt5J_UW7ODg5Kp0jK_yYPJVrGnnwtxhf3km7EGe8rQdxe9nHIn6hMdd8klEEwogJ0J06gFIhbEYQbXHNt-r1lSaPYixgz9XRPr7l2h79qsIXDmzkViAuoD9tkYVK/s1600/DSCF6016.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwkSOg7BPAAyvDGSpUXt5J_UW7ODg5Kp0jK_yYPJVrGnnwtxhf3km7EGe8rQdxe9nHIn6hMdd8klEEwogJ0J06gFIhbEYQbXHNt-r1lSaPYixgz9XRPr7l2h79qsIXDmzkViAuoD9tkYVK/s200/DSCF6016.JPG" width="200" /></a>flights and climb four to enjoy omelettes, tea and toast whilst taking in the view across Lake Pichola to the Lake Palace.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAdxlGj10iw9DkkwbaFwlVFSSh0IInB85914mt1MurTuGNLQnlmDh-QlMAXTbdnlPap3971_gstT1VGk8c5_Jgbbw5D2Iebex49OP72cZufdgn1fYtLMJKUqSqFOp6ZmDuP0dthk9VCfEE/s1600/DSCF6042.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAdxlGj10iw9DkkwbaFwlVFSSh0IInB85914mt1MurTuGNLQnlmDh-QlMAXTbdnlPap3971_gstT1VGk8c5_Jgbbw5D2Iebex49OP72cZufdgn1fYtLMJKUqSqFOp6ZmDuP0dthk9VCfEE/s200/DSCF6042.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
R hankers after a yoga class so once we are fed and showered we go to check out a place that the hotel has recommended. She likes the look of it so that is on for this evening. We walk up through the old town to the City Palace, musing on how much more adventurous we have become since last time we were here. We don't plan to tour the Palace this time although we did find it very interesting. Our plan is to slake some of the thirst built up in Gujarat. The cold beer is wonderful but the bill comes as a bit of a shock. We could have been drunk as skunks for a week in Diu for the price of a single bottle of Kingfisher here. Really we went to look at the elephant nests which are quite impressive to look at but don't photograph too well.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwziFnNtzFnM36m9506wfmD0oLoRH38VtLWUdTI1n6ZwzWY1cva0jieDeIpip7jBJkLoUXbllMrZzTMLhvIekU2fSNMgywE6sxqGZNXO-o_QsJ_TXY1-__sL3ftXhOt9m_20CTh_WaXscj/s1600/DSCF6045.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwziFnNtzFnM36m9506wfmD0oLoRH38VtLWUdTI1n6ZwzWY1cva0jieDeIpip7jBJkLoUXbllMrZzTMLhvIekU2fSNMgywE6sxqGZNXO-o_QsJ_TXY1-__sL3ftXhOt9m_20CTh_WaXscj/s200/DSCF6045.JPG" width="200" /></a>On our way out of the Palace complex we hear the sound of bagpipes. Bagpipes being played in the most excruciating fashion. Auld Lang Syne being murdered. Even D's Sassenach tin ear could tell that there is something wrong. Why teenage boys in Rajasthan are playing the pipes is a bit of a mystery but they do confirm that they are "Scottish bagpipes".<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge8JLh8PFKcmHmLhK-pWmeXIIeGDFJkODJeZwsaEN4w1KPbWNLbTtiQWl21rfwt7H8JPyvddRTHMSMu8TXK4AcsmDcQ0EMNoREFJu892uJ_5O5jJrQbFTmjyLEbQF4R9-xByr73GILYX_p/s1600/DSCF6056.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge8JLh8PFKcmHmLhK-pWmeXIIeGDFJkODJeZwsaEN4w1KPbWNLbTtiQWl21rfwt7H8JPyvddRTHMSMu8TXK4AcsmDcQ0EMNoREFJu892uJ_5O5jJrQbFTmjyLEbQF4R9-xByr73GILYX_p/s200/DSCF6056.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
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After an afternoon snooze and a catch up session on the internet it is time for R's yoga class. This is handily situated near an off licence that would not look out of place in Possil. D gets acquainted with the local ne'er-do-wells whilst queuing for a couple of sun-downers. There is a great deal in common between India and Scotland when it comes to the morality of drink. <br />
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<br />When R returns from class we lounge on our terrace, beers in hand and watch a spectacular sunset. The haveli's rooftop restaurant serves up an excellent supper. We did not go out clubbing.<br />
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R+D's travelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11203558327305830800noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2706194841314251325.post-86622804517532870312013-02-21T17:45:00.001+05:302013-02-21T17:45:24.232+05:30Tues/Weds 19/20th - Sole purpose of visit. <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZaR71UXGus296KT0X9CjFmHwQAn8GoQTE8LQ01Y596eLtJDT3jdzkftlD3Xq132j-mvdpENf4DHWH6OfcYH7Ty58AZjZyNCUxD5l9ReTrZ8FDIXh86V5a84ux0uFG1PqRcoX7igvZSVO0/s1600/DSCF5962.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a>The metre gauge platforms at Ahmedabad's main railway station are located at the far distant side from the city and the main entrance. Our train will depart from Platform 12 which seems to be singularly devoid of comforts and smells quite strongly of fish and pee. There is a bright and comfortable A/c Class waiting room on platform one, as far away as it is possible to get. It even has a fish tank. D does not mind this as it gives the perfect excuse to go for a wander round the station every now and again. We recover the bags from the cloakroom and settle in. About an hour before its due departure time our train appears at the platform. <br />
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Train 19944 Udaipur Express is painted in a proper train livery - red. It is a sort of mixture of LMS Crimson Lake and Red Oxide. Some of the coaches on the train appear to have been repainted quite recently although the solitary AC Sleeper coach that contains our bed for the night looks very shabby indeed. The less said about Western Railways mauve and yellow loco livery the better.<br />
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Inside the coach is like a scaled down broad gauge 1AC class coach with 7 compartments which have sliding doors. There are no coupes in meter gauge coaches so we are in a 4 berth with two Indian men. The first thing that we notice is that the space is significantly less than in BG coaches. We have to unpack some of our rucsac to get it under the seat and our trolley bag has to stand on the floor underneath the window table. R pronounces herself happy with both the cleanliness of the coach and of the bed linen. In her view it is much better than some of the BG trains that we have taken.<br />
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One of the Indian guys is going on holiday and is very chatty. The other is quite grumpy and wants to get his bed sorted asap. The compartment next door has a Swiss couple and he is another train nut. He is fascinated by D's indian Railway Atlas and delighted by the news that in the morning nobaody is going to stop him leaning out of the door to take in the view. We leave bang on time and go straight to bed to keep Mr Grumpy quiet. He also announces that he wants the cabin door leaving open.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSLRVH6K5kXUsgnyDYHOiWTGB0bCTRXKGRx9duWNDPdDhrNVBJxUBDFiM3nARK7d51DQzvF9sM4P2H4aQIlj8RSsL1qjVKSN5KCI6AWXU3CiOg0ZdSkbmlGeFRmG1x1Gb4LIzNl8mMFp0u/s1600/DSCF5978.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSLRVH6K5kXUsgnyDYHOiWTGB0bCTRXKGRx9duWNDPdDhrNVBJxUBDFiM3nARK7d51DQzvF9sM4P2H4aQIlj8RSsL1qjVKSN5KCI6AWXU3CiOg0ZdSkbmlGeFRmG1x1Gb4LIzNl8mMFp0u/s200/DSCF5978.JPG" width="200" /></a>We sleep pretty well although the A/c makes it pretty chilly and we have to use blankets. D wakes at 6.30 and is able to grab a spot at the open door as it starts to get light. At first the countryside is flat but we soon move into a hilly section with quite spectacular scenery. This line did not exist prior to Independence but was built before the decision was taken to convert all of the metre gauge lines to broad gauge. Work to create a track-bed for the 5'6" track has already started in places and this line will not be around for much longer.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3aAw0iFGQf8tlHjhtaDOANiQxBvzhheIG1_yAeIqlpXFdIooeY-KE2GFWIbyznZG6JG-5QZnv_1l-qM9gKf6Sj2qz2LJpXtgqW485QJUNJb4Ptaz2_hJwBrkCafuLnu4njH8kMeeNlDlT/s1600/DSCF5981.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3aAw0iFGQf8tlHjhtaDOANiQxBvzhheIG1_yAeIqlpXFdIooeY-KE2GFWIbyznZG6JG-5QZnv_1l-qM9gKf6Sj2qz2LJpXtgqW485QJUNJb4Ptaz2_hJwBrkCafuLnu4njH8kMeeNlDlT/s200/DSCF5981.JPG" width="200" /></a>Around 7.30 we make a long stop at a station where chai vendors appear and we get a very welcome sugar boost. Sadly they no longer use clay pots to go with the vintage train. Further on we stop in the middle of nowhere for no apparent reason. Quite a few people get down and stretch their legs on the trackside. They are almost left behind when we get under way again at short notice. The reason for the stop becomes apparent when we move on to a station where we cross a southbound train. <br />
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R said that she enjoyed the trip and recommends it. Mr Grumpy managed to get his eight hours in and was quite chatty by the time that we pulled into Udaipur City Station. We had a bit of a wait for the queue to get onto the footbridge to subside but this gave us time to view the alternative accommodation on the train. Even D isn't up for ten hours on wooden seats.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_9BnEJGqmmoE_HacRffmA3BvogIX49N-HicmUONqJ-lF7xFXKXNKyyhfaLuUfdYFdSRv_cy7_Hk1fqXcK1r91QTpw7sBOM70d0zOJKgOIJ57ld3tMfiVP9_S_EqvuLPeH5IV9lr4M21yq/s1600/DSCF6005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_9BnEJGqmmoE_HacRffmA3BvogIX49N-HicmUONqJ-lF7xFXKXNKyyhfaLuUfdYFdSRv_cy7_Hk1fqXcK1r91QTpw7sBOM70d0zOJKgOIJ57ld3tMfiVP9_S_EqvuLPeH5IV9lr4M21yq/s640/DSCF6005.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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R+D's travelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11203558327305830800noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2706194841314251325.post-51074769125580553962013-02-21T08:23:00.000+05:302013-02-21T16:56:53.697+05:30Tuesday 19th - More Ahmedabad<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Don't tell R but the whole point of this trip is to travel overnight on a metre gauge train while it is still possible. Today is the day or at least tonight is the night. Whoopee! There is the small matter of what to do with the hours before our 23.00 departure.We partly solve this by sleeping in until nearly 8 a.m. By the time that we have had breakfast and packed it is 10 a.m. The Always Hotel Riverview has been just what we need but they nearly blow it by presenting a bill with the wrong room rate. They apologise but take half an hour to reprint the bill. An auto is summoned and we head for the station. There is some cloud cover and it is quite cool this morning. Our auto costs less than half of what we were charged for the opposite trip when we first arrived.<span id="goog_1501724025"></span><span id="goog_1501724026"></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIlC8cZUTp7EcdF6mMbxExj9-ZkC3fi7eY86K5oC2vkKt7Suh6e3YLFIRqp8kTDTTR-dRAU7lwIvMfefZR2AuRiF2Z-MIYcgCNrvkwM_Bhk3dAy2un2TFZ-ybZ-EBNBDqBj4XzKZATDcN6/s1600/DSCF5857.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIlC8cZUTp7EcdF6mMbxExj9-ZkC3fi7eY86K5oC2vkKt7Suh6e3YLFIRqp8kTDTTR-dRAU7lwIvMfefZR2AuRiF2Z-MIYcgCNrvkwM_Bhk3dAy2un2TFZ-ybZ-EBNBDqBj4XzKZATDcN6/s200/DSCF5857.JPG" width="200" /></a>Our man drops us adjacent to the Cloak Room, much to the disgust of the porters. D has to show the man how to find the PNR number on our e-ticket. Surely we are not the first people to produce one of these at ADI. Bags deposited we set out to find a restaurant recommended by Lonely Planet to check it out for supper tonight. We fail to find it but we do see an elephant which dwarfs the sea of autos and two wheelers on the road.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHs4Z9ZSTGf0phtYLZzjUSrAolGEztNOImtADa5juiQAJMbt-k_nrhYHBVHwRw92sumvs6weYAMxoipcjFoNpfMi2kOvM8LUdEV56ZpfHcLKCczeEy1pr8FXNbANhrC70ltriuKgKGU_rf/s1600/DSCF5860.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHs4Z9ZSTGf0phtYLZzjUSrAolGEztNOImtADa5juiQAJMbt-k_nrhYHBVHwRw92sumvs6weYAMxoipcjFoNpfMi2kOvM8LUdEV56ZpfHcLKCczeEy1pr8FXNbANhrC70ltriuKgKGU_rf/s200/DSCF5860.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
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We switch into exploring mode and head down a side street dominated by textile wholesalers. There is one lonely salt stall. When we reach a busy main road a policeman leaps into action and stops the traffic so that we can cross. This section of bazaar is occupied by the clothes sellers and seems very popular with the two wheel fraternity. Today's most used phrase is "Mind your back. Motorbike."<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJpnr6kB3EsnHT64R8592npDufQdTj-t5oNFntdJ1eOgZPnxzDHXQ2yLYOTEoMsfz95_Fl1k-GNSbaebDSoPX268H0wz_w_oOajbMIa76gqBjZAScnwjIgZ2Wiu_ldwTeoRcqROD-NzQwa/s1600/DSCF5878.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJpnr6kB3EsnHT64R8592npDufQdTj-t5oNFntdJ1eOgZPnxzDHXQ2yLYOTEoMsfz95_Fl1k-GNSbaebDSoPX268H0wz_w_oOajbMIa76gqBjZAScnwjIgZ2Wiu_ldwTeoRcqROD-NzQwa/s200/DSCF5878.JPG" width="200" /></a>Recrossing the main drag we are now on the street of shoe wholesalers. This is a recommended retail experience as they don't try to sell you anything. Footwear alley leads to chicken butchers place where a particularly bloodthirsty crew wave bits of dismembered chicken at us. We move on rapidly and find ourselves in a maze of pols with remarkably friendly locals. R made a serious contribution to the Indian dental profession by handing out sweets.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0rhS2NUZ7uJ7DFQNn8OhIU7YikExjyQT8gjUvTJFcxKgWMCaGZ1wh2MQOx9l2reTfnERn-el2IgLz7VNNzbeNSkacIP_A-YejL_eW566tpxUpb90kbLpfZ_ANDoYG8uputpgvyYA5vaBe/s1600/DSCF5884.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0rhS2NUZ7uJ7DFQNn8OhIU7YikExjyQT8gjUvTJFcxKgWMCaGZ1wh2MQOx9l2reTfnERn-el2IgLz7VNNzbeNSkacIP_A-YejL_eW566tpxUpb90kbLpfZ_ANDoYG8uputpgvyYA5vaBe/s200/DSCF5884.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
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Amazingly we get back to the main street without having to backtrack once. On the south side we find some of the old wooden buildings that are still quite well preserved. The detailed carvings are splendid examples of craftsmanship. Hopefully the tree will be removed before it does too much damage. This time we do end up in a blind alley and have to retrace our steps.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimjjUUJYEEavwV90Jz1X_9srnPH1cWd477CxrFKMpJc31yCWUwSrOMR4y44l-UXav1B8MTkZ46R1nZbVrlUVkUJ4D74wKuY49RZEe99qCLxYjMc-T1rH0HoyYTk-VaY0DFV-YX5JytHuLK/s1600/R+in+Auto.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimjjUUJYEEavwV90Jz1X_9srnPH1cWd477CxrFKMpJc31yCWUwSrOMR4y44l-UXav1B8MTkZ46R1nZbVrlUVkUJ4D74wKuY49RZEe99qCLxYjMc-T1rH0HoyYTk-VaY0DFV-YX5JytHuLK/s200/R+in+Auto.JPG" width="200" /></a>By now it is getting pretty hot so we retreat to the Green House courtyard for tea, sharbat and samosas. This auto ride is only 30 rupees for quite a long trip. People in Ahmedabad seem very chatty and R is soon making friends in the queue for the traffic lights. <br />
The other notable thing about Ahmedabad is that everybody has plenty of change and nobody turns their nose up at the odd grubby bank note.<br />
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Refreshed we take another ride, this time to the City Museum. This was designed by Le Corbusier in 1954 and is described in LP as a "high school undergoing demolition". We are the only visitors when we sign in and solemnly acknowledge the no photography instruction. Inside there is nobody to stop you doing whatever you feel like.<br />
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There are some very interesting displays about the city's history but not all exhibits have English information. There is an interesting section about the various religious groups to be found in the city but the modern design exhibition consists of a few chairs that you are not allowed to sit on. R thinks that the art on display is very good but they could do with more of it and better information. <br />
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The big drawback with M. Corbusier's building is that it doesn't keep out water. It is not obvious that any attempts are being made to stop the roof leaking. During an hour and a half's visit we do not see another soul, staff or visitor. On the way out we are handed a guide to the museum and a map with a suggested walk in the Old City.<br />
On the ground floor we visit the Kite Museum, again utterly deserted. This has a very nice bench seat under a fan and we spend some time there.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8c95Xw_M_0iclHnJ-Bdj9OPU6-AUVHLTz_WqtJMYdxWUj3KqUoAWnQd1vJ-qlHA385Sg7XaVxOvQhCc69sDRiEr1v6Yp8LoXI1gDz7yQjXYd-fpPC13SlIR70ldV9yG5J7VwI-z3sOfsp/s1600/DSCF5950.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNZ2uP3_DIHZt5W7EDkQwEHJfxqW7TpaFj9Zb5OXYLmOceWqMK9hdOsSArYQ977oiB-bj_O2AT8_bK3dBejZ7ko4GeMguuOoVl2tAFA5H1FHNxB8WToPYMNeCRXQfkRRANlYTTmE4zV0jD/s1600/DSCF5941.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNZ2uP3_DIHZt5W7EDkQwEHJfxqW7TpaFj9Zb5OXYLmOceWqMK9hdOsSArYQ977oiB-bj_O2AT8_bK3dBejZ7ko4GeMguuOoVl2tAFA5H1FHNxB8WToPYMNeCRXQfkRRANlYTTmE4zV0jD/s200/DSCF5941.JPG" width="150" /></a>In need of further refreshment we head back to the Green House for tea. We also order a bottle of water and spin out our stay in the shade for over an hour. The Museum's Old City walk looks interesting and goes to a few places that we missed so we go for it. 200 yards into it the is a lady doing Henna prints and R, who is under orders not to buy anything else as the luggage is full, decides she must have some. This becomes a spectator sport as one arm and hand are covered with flowers, paisley pattern, leaves, an elephant and even a scorpion.<br />
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The map of the walk is quite easy to follow and takes us through the market areas. The array of clothes is dazzling but the fact that motorbikes and even autos are allowed to drive through the narrow gaps between the stalls makes it a rather disagreeable retail experience and we do not linger. Past the spice market we see the mother and father of all traffic jams, with people manhandling parked two wheelers out of the road to free things up. The map gets us to the Managaldas Haveli a magnificently preserved (or restored?) old house. The one opposite is impressive too.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8c95Xw_M_0iclHnJ-Bdj9OPU6-AUVHLTz_WqtJMYdxWUj3KqUoAWnQd1vJ-qlHA385Sg7XaVxOvQhCc69sDRiEr1v6Yp8LoXI1gDz7yQjXYd-fpPC13SlIR70ldV9yG5J7VwI-z3sOfsp/s1600/DSCF5950.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8c95Xw_M_0iclHnJ-Bdj9OPU6-AUVHLTz_WqtJMYdxWUj3KqUoAWnQd1vJ-qlHA385Sg7XaVxOvQhCc69sDRiEr1v6Yp8LoXI1gDz7yQjXYd-fpPC13SlIR70ldV9yG5J7VwI-z3sOfsp/s200/DSCF5950.JPG" width="200" /></a>This takes us to the furthest extremity of the walk which returns by a different, parallel route. The highlight of this is Mouth Fresheners alley where all of the sellers of after dinner mouth fresheners are congregated with their colourful produce. |By now it is dark and we decide to eat. We have an excellent meal including tandoori chicken at the Food Inn, another LP recommendation that we do manage to find, possibly because it is right next to the Green House. We have really enjoyed Ahmedabad and recommend it.</div>
R+D's travelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11203558327305830800noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2706194841314251325.post-69586553353027291862013-02-19T09:04:00.003+05:302013-02-19T09:04:49.250+05:30Monday 18th - Old Ahmedabad. Or is that Amdavad?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ01SOGdW4v5f0f_oBz5Cs6HMI9Y0AcN-uCUbyceE9-miTWuN308Tt4BZntroTBHlRMu9TLjD1_CTy3iGSS_wfVgGQR2gJT32RZQ3lygjOeuokY6XZXwhmbIE9DrAyhGdRAvhxvVex_von/s1600/DSCF5763.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ01SOGdW4v5f0f_oBz5Cs6HMI9Y0AcN-uCUbyceE9-miTWuN308Tt4BZntroTBHlRMu9TLjD1_CTy3iGSS_wfVgGQR2gJT32RZQ3lygjOeuokY6XZXwhmbIE9DrAyhGdRAvhxvVex_von/s200/DSCF5763.JPG" width="200" /></a>A relative lie in this morning. Breakfast at 7.45 and then an auto ride to the House of MG whence we plan to take their "highly acclaimed" audio walking tour of the old city. After hanging about for a while a man appears to tell us that the i-pod is on the blink so no tour is available. We revert to plan B and walk off in a huff, taking the first likely looking side street and soon find ourselves in the chicken market, followed swiftly by the fish market.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoLQbcHgDbLO8Jw64XOw2MXXw1eakMsoolH46DEPSdrzX0y1JE_aivSCSSD9YuXLdQysL0fSIpVRkdxUKfbVGIf4_XL2pRe9mSvKXUaRgKjMehJL2-x5vO8iL7WdFqft5inDvWFUNwmi9f/s1600/DSCF5765.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoLQbcHgDbLO8Jw64XOw2MXXw1eakMsoolH46DEPSdrzX0y1JE_aivSCSSD9YuXLdQysL0fSIpVRkdxUKfbVGIf4_XL2pRe9mSvKXUaRgKjMehJL2-x5vO8iL7WdFqft5inDvWFUNwmi9f/s200/DSCF5765.JPG" width="200" /></a>R is delicate as far as odours are concerned so we do not linger and find ourselves in a residential area where there are still some of the old timber buildings. We are objects of curiosity all round but the good old fall back of taking a digital photo and showing the result soon breaks the ice. The old city of Ahmedabad does not lack for either goats or autos and this picture allows two birds to be killed with one stone.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrWA_M64gYeaVlbNNOOE9Wrlyr3NXkXLb5wo7ObRC7oJhkqJQD_nxc8PK15qvBUllfPXfAG7Md0CIGZnx8DHmBgXmIyFA40s-6vtlY4CIFgYKR7koh3SP8zM7TyR19A6KYqCsPe-Q60jBy/s1600/DSCF5792.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrWA_M64gYeaVlbNNOOE9Wrlyr3NXkXLb5wo7ObRC7oJhkqJQD_nxc8PK15qvBUllfPXfAG7Md0CIGZnx8DHmBgXmIyFA40s-6vtlY4CIFgYKR7koh3SP8zM7TyR19A6KYqCsPe-Q60jBy/s200/DSCF5792.JPG" width="150" /></a></div>
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We are given directions out of the cul de sac we have wandered into and take a stroll down a couple of streets of shops which are still shuttered. Around a corner the road opens out into a a much wider street with one of the surviving city gates across it.. Beyond the gate is an open space where the shoe sellers are setting up their stalls. A left turn takes us into a vegetable market with lots of colour and characters. Nearly everybody wants their photo to be taken.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQUpXZDnAoPNmjrcIXm9ZVztSw_lb08XvTJYPDKOK7jIEN-oEIXJKPynfxKASlZyfnvgQkBcjKw04VbB7yEg0oV-Wi6BBvEIiXrHK6IEMd_MdtC1X2ymxmguHOHZ6-8cHkT4FUVGTuGUQf/s1600/DSCF5816.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQUpXZDnAoPNmjrcIXm9ZVztSw_lb08XvTJYPDKOK7jIEN-oEIXJKPynfxKASlZyfnvgQkBcjKw04VbB7yEg0oV-Wi6BBvEIiXrHK6IEMd_MdtC1X2ymxmguHOHZ6-8cHkT4FUVGTuGUQf/s200/DSCF5816.JPG" width="200" /></a><br />The following turn takes us onto a street of fruit sellers - strangely this is also where the stalls selling garlic are as well. Next comes the spice market and then we are amongst the cooking pot and utensil sellers. Each trade keeps to one area in the main. There is even a street of wedding stationery specialists. Off the streets there are narrow alleys called poles, on which most of the residential buildings are situated. There are a lot of old wooden fronted buildings but many of them are in poor repair. The whole area must be a Fire Chief's worst nightmare.<br />
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After two hours walking we are quite worn out. We have been looking for a cup of tea but fail to spot even a chai walla so we decide to go back to the courtyard cafe at theHouse of MG. We open negotiations with an auto driver and once again a mini-conference ensues. Fortunately one man speaks passable English and a deal is struck for 30 rupees. We assume that we are going a few hundred yards but the ride goes on and on. In general auto rides in the city seem to be cheap compared with Delhi, and certainly much cheaper than Chennai.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghldUJ353oC13V1MlzBB48arbRhGh_NOz9FBIIXAtFwjiNndiwipZ4cuWOKymSH-ofGX4Ys7LtwFoYQYbyPs5fdUxeQ9_UgCVxZBEYJBhM_bc7-KcFQEFI4gPIgWlnlOCIS8XjTCB1XB9q/s1600/DSCF5850.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghldUJ353oC13V1MlzBB48arbRhGh_NOz9FBIIXAtFwjiNndiwipZ4cuWOKymSH-ofGX4Ys7LtwFoYQYbyPs5fdUxeQ9_UgCVxZBEYJBhM_bc7-KcFQEFI4gPIgWlnlOCIS8XjTCB1XB9q/s200/DSCF5850.JPG" width="200" /></a>R is revived by a cup of tea and decides that her wardrobe is in need of a further revamp. Only the very best air conditioned outfitters will suffice for this. Great piles of garments are examined and rejected in several shops but eventually a couple of purchases are made and we can retire to the A/c splendour of our hotel room..<br />
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We have a very lazy afternoon snoozing and reading - it's almost like being on holiday. As the light fades we head out to the Night Martket again. This is much quieter tonight but gives us chance to practice a bit of haggling. We have probably been ripped off rotten however we think that we have got a couple of bargains.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiIYFyr4tmLDACoZclCr-DKK27k26QeRcZ2rjWZKWDugfUxzFzJIADYvAouaEw8ZbkQLLA9T3z3fB7Vki4QZq4hjzWeFGztoBbJSguZLKHMFzvOiWGklQpHcbsslNMoXlGioc3DviGBV-U/s1600/DSCF5852.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiIYFyr4tmLDACoZclCr-DKK27k26QeRcZ2rjWZKWDugfUxzFzJIADYvAouaEw8ZbkQLLA9T3z3fB7Vki4QZq4hjzWeFGztoBbJSguZLKHMFzvOiWGklQpHcbsslNMoXlGioc3DviGBV-U/s200/DSCF5852.JPG" width="200" /></a><br />
On Sunday we passed a restaurant that had a good write up in lonely Planet so we thought that we would try it. When we got there it was closed so we went to the next place along the street. In the next room there was some sort of function going on. Everybody looked really miserable so it must have been a wake or a wedding. We had a very nice veggy meal and were amazed when our bill came to less than £4. One more point for Ahmedabad, or should that be Amdavad?</div>
R+D's travelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11203558327305830800noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2706194841314251325.post-55867057872558836972013-02-18T16:39:00.003+05:302013-02-18T21:28:19.062+05:30Sunday 17th - Gastronomic Experience + Other Stuff<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1QwGZ76ylYhS4ZYfaJ-CbTHiSyjn-SY6ew8v8snDRb0sYl03ofpi8-n8LCEkfTybYLnxTzD5C3UgytBEZZxA2c-Tf5ZVsfXtyYf9vMET6IBsHGnK-dv-vW5NCcWrNn31qwX2Ds9Ii9ZUx/s1600/DSCF5698.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1QwGZ76ylYhS4ZYfaJ-CbTHiSyjn-SY6ew8v8snDRb0sYl03ofpi8-n8LCEkfTybYLnxTzD5C3UgytBEZZxA2c-Tf5ZVsfXtyYf9vMET6IBsHGnK-dv-vW5NCcWrNn31qwX2Ds9Ii9ZUx/s200/DSCF5698.JPG" width="200" /></a>The alarm goes at 6 a.m. - again. Davendra is ready with the car and we are soon on the way to the Khijadiya Bird sanctuary. he found good lodgings last night and says that he slept very well. It is still dark when we get to the Forest Office aand there are no signs of life. After a few minutes a yound man arrives on a bike. Apparently he is to be our guide. He hammers on a door and a sleepy looking chap appears, takes our money and issues a "permit" from a duplicate book whose paper is so old it is beginning to crumble.</div>
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We head out onto the causeway which splits the reserve into a marine section and a wetland section. As the sun rises groups of common cranes fly overhead. Because the rains were so poor last year the wetland section is mainly baked mud and thorn bushes. On the marine side there is quite a lot to see including a painted stork, spoonbills, flamingos, pelicans and a variety of waders including pied avocets.<br />
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A trip along a second causeway takes us further inland where there are fields full of cranes as well as nilgai. The bushes on the side of the track are alive with bulbuls, babblers, francolins and we get a couple of purple sunbird sightings. By 9 a.m. the Sanctuary is filling up with families who seem to be unaware that a lot of noise will scare away most birds and it is time for us to go. We drop the guide at the office and start our 300km trip back to Ahmedabad.<br />
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You have to hand it to the veterans on India Mike who hire a car and driver for their visit and who wouldn't dream of getting a train. They must be made of sterner stuff than we are because we are shattered after four dasys on the road and keep falling asleep. Even with the aircon going it is hot in the glare of the sun and not being able to walk about is very restricting. If we come back to Jamnagar it will be by train. The road is not too bad although the queueing behaviour at the toll booths is appalling. We see one really bad smash where it looks as if a car has clipped the central reservation and flipped over.<br />
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At the halfway point Davendra pulls into a restaurant car park. It is one of a chain called "Honest". We order a late brunch.- Davendra has a Punjabi thali, D has a dhosa and R gets her uttapam eventually. When we arrive the place has a few customers but by the time we leave there is a queue and people sit at our table before we have even paid our bill.<br />
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There are a couple more delays for a level crossing and some kind of festival that we never actually saw but we make decent time and check back into our hotel at about 3 p.m. We are made very welcome and given a room a floor higher up and with windows that close properly. The traffic noise is significantly reduced much to R's relief. Last night she had to use earplugs. We have a cup of tea and a sluice before heading off to check out the Law Garden night market which specialises in colourful and glittering ladies outfits.<br />
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R has a great time although it is D who actually buys something - a scarf for train trips. we also treat ourselves to a green coconut with the top chopped off and a straw fitted so the milk can be drunk. By now it is dark so we hail an auto. There is some difficulty explaining where we want to go (the most famous hotel in the city) and D has to resort to the guide book. In the meantime a crowd gathers of other auto drivers, general idlers and a chap with excellent English who interprets for us. Eventually we are understood and he agrees to take us. The assembled committee then all have their say on what the fare should be before we agree on a very reasonable 30 rupees.<br />
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The House of MG hotel is not named in honour of Mahatma Gandhi or even after the sports cars but commemorates Mangaldas Girdhardas whose descendents own and run the place. Their roof terrace restaurant is famous for its authentic Gujarati thalis which we are going to try tonight. As usual we are the first people to arrive and we are shown up to a lounge area where starters are served. The chairs are apparently designed to be sat on cross-legged but we slouch a little self consciously. More customers arrive including a British tour group but also several Indian families. Our starters arrive in vast quantity and very tasty. We think that they are farsan and deep fried okra served with chutneys.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB-Dd54v9Imv_0xAmyhk32V0y1JjR_odXYUaTvE25TWzij8SATRwN7GHLy-muQBxdyp2r_2GsJZcRqc7LkLkxqSXNNh8xqU2IntNYQdE4bKho8-AM6JO6ldC14_6EO5tlFdhz-wYJtTI7y/s1600/DSCF5760.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB-Dd54v9Imv_0xAmyhk32V0y1JjR_odXYUaTvE25TWzij8SATRwN7GHLy-muQBxdyp2r_2GsJZcRqc7LkLkxqSXNNh8xqU2IntNYQdE4bKho8-AM6JO6ldC14_6EO5tlFdhz-wYJtTI7y/s200/DSCF5760.JPG" width="200" /></a>Before long we are summoned to the terrace and shown to our table. A waiter appeared with a bowl and a thing like a small watering can full of hot water so we can wash our hands. Then prodigious quantities of vegetarian food start to arrive along with a sour lassi (yuck). The food is fabulous even if we don't know what a lot of it is. We try everything except the green chillies - even R chickens out of those. And the food keeps coming unless you say stop. If we had known we would have skipped brunch. <br />
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We call a halt and the hand wash walla reappears before kulfi, a type of ice cream, and paan leaves are delivered tonour table. We pass on the paan leaves which we tried once before at a wedding. We thoroughly recommend this gastronomic experience to anybody who visits the city.<br />
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We walk home to our hotel over the Nehru Bridge which crosses the Sabarmati River. Half of the city is on the bridge enjoying the breeze and most of them want to say hello to us. What friendly people they are.</div>
R+D's travelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11203558327305830800noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2706194841314251325.post-73265527310357966572013-02-18T08:29:00.002+05:302013-02-18T12:53:45.713+05:30Saturday 16th - Jamnagar - Ornithologist's Delight<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVFU7_YQTDFzy6Ymu0XlIdsXU1DT6YEqJ3knXFsJ2h4Lo07pwmKnjGgVTHJTZhr9dC8JkVogKKtnQjvgImj6IERMbz1IrgIINwaa8AK6HGXdoE4IzS5JWS7Wilcstv5jB82Kk4NTOXGjAr/s1600/DSCF5600.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVFU7_YQTDFzy6Ymu0XlIdsXU1DT6YEqJ3knXFsJ2h4Lo07pwmKnjGgVTHJTZhr9dC8JkVogKKtnQjvgImj6IERMbz1IrgIINwaa8AK6HGXdoE4IzS5JWS7Wilcstv5jB82Kk4NTOXGjAr/s200/DSCF5600.JPG" width="200" /></a>The noise of heavy rain wakes us at around 5a.m. No point in trying to go back to sleep as those guests going out for the early morning safari are making a tremendous racket. The rain has passed but it is cold enough for fleeces when we make our way to reception for a first light bird walk. Our guide is very knowledgeable - he carries the same guide that R does but can say which page a given bird is shown on from memory. We walk along the camp track for a while then cut across country.<br />
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There are many different birds to see but photography is difficult as most seem to have the sun behind them. D was quite pleased with this shot of a Spotted Owlet.<br />
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In total we walk and watch for two hours so we are ready for breakfast back at the Camp. We bundle together our belongings and it is time to go. Poor Davendra had to sleep in the car last night as he could not find digs. Our travels today take us to Jamnagar on the northern coast of Sarashtra.<br />
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The countryside is more undulating on for the first part of the trip and we are travelling on much quieter roads. We pass through lots of villages, including one where many of the population are quite clearly of African origin. We see plenty of rural pursuits including the famous one of sorting the sheep from the goats. Eventually we leave the hilly area and are once more back in an area of dead flat arable land.<br />
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By 2 p.m. we reach Jamnagar and check into the Hotel President, possibly named in honour of Eisenhower if the decor is anything to go by.. We have a balcony - shame about the view. The hotel's owner, Mushtaq, is a very keen birder and we are summoned to his office. After being told that we need at least 3 days to do justice to birding in and around the city he quickly works out a plan for us. This afternoon visit the lake in the centre of the town, return at last light to see the starlings return from the fields to roost and at first light tomorrow visit a reserve a few kilometers out of town. That's sorted then.<br />
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The lake is a five minute walk from the hotel and surrounded by a wide, paved embankment which catches the breeze nicely on what would be a hot day otherwise. The 2012 monsoon failed in Gujarat and there is much less water than would be normal but it has attracted a wide range of birds including both Rosy and Dalmatian pelicans, lesser flamingos, ibises, a couple of spoonbills and lots of ducks and waders. R has a marvellous time with her binoculars. <br />
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We spend a good two hours here, walking right around the lake until R decides that it is time for a retail break. We head off into the old city wandering along alleys and finding some fascinating old buildings. R buys herself a couple of pairs of harem pants. The price label looks as if it says 960 but in fact this is in Gujarati numbers and she is charged 180 per pair. D eventually navigates back to somewhere that we recognise and we make our way back to the lake.<br />
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We have been promised that the sky will turn black with starlings but for a while nothing much seems to happen. Jamnagar doesn't appear to get too many non-Indian tourists. We are treated as celebrities, being hailed from passing motorbikes, engaged in conversation by promenaders and having our photographs taken both openly and on the sly. Suddenly great flocks of Rosy starlings fill the sky and for a few minutes there is quite a spectacular display.<br />
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After such an eventful day we barely have the energy to eat, and despite the traffic noise are soon sound asleep.</div>
R+D's travelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11203558327305830800noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2706194841314251325.post-12662138832638258722013-02-17T17:03:00.000+05:302013-02-17T17:03:47.563+05:30Friday 15th - Life with the Lions<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUMlWJV8-RaEr84VKo0XKLNmrIA-34oCyj2HzIL-gaetqOKvJvDeVb7uquEJqJKybefTba6A0H1VuTd1XYbliKD7SkO9w0zRZgqpiOnrmxZxglB3RzTbN92KEAAiM0TeUv02BrGXXa2l2C/s1600/DSCF5517.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUMlWJV8-RaEr84VKo0XKLNmrIA-34oCyj2HzIL-gaetqOKvJvDeVb7uquEJqJKybefTba6A0H1VuTd1XYbliKD7SkO9w0zRZgqpiOnrmxZxglB3RzTbN92KEAAiM0TeUv02BrGXXa2l2C/s320/DSCF5517.JPG" width="320" /></a>After a bit of a lie in we head down for breakfast.We wait for ten minutes but nobody has appeared to take an order so we cut our losses and go back to last night's restaurant where we get splendid omelettes and black tea infused with ginger. We have an hour for a stroll around Diu Town which is quite picturesque and still has some old Portuguese colonial buildings. A large church, St Thomas's, has been converted into the town museum but is currently undergoing extensive repairs. The small market in the town centre is a colourful array of vegetables, fruits, flowers and saris. D treated R to a garland for her hat and another pomegranate - this time at a more reasonable 20 rupees.<br />
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Davendra is ready with the car at 10.30 and we take a spin out to look at one of the beaches on the ocean side of the island before crossing a different bridge back to the mainland. We are not stopped and searched by the Gujurat police which is quite fortunate really. Brandy at less than £2 per bottle is just too cheap to turn down and we do have 5 more days of prohibition to endure.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHpQCR0-nLOi1TSNflrVZYZ-JfUhZw0ecfXlybjZK4QgQq2Z_n6BFc91vLuzAZwVaUVkp6CwmOJRDrlkDzugulvCVx_zN1KcVSR4F1U4UwpZUUd-gdUlflsqhRiIpqQUeDAVHZw7A_rXzE/s1600/DSCF5531.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHpQCR0-nLOi1TSNflrVZYZ-JfUhZw0ecfXlybjZK4QgQq2Z_n6BFc91vLuzAZwVaUVkp6CwmOJRDrlkDzugulvCVx_zN1KcVSR4F1U4UwpZUUd-gdUlflsqhRiIpqQUeDAVHZw7A_rXzE/s320/DSCF5531.JPG" width="320" /></a><br />
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Today's roads are better and quieter and we make excellent progress until we have to stop at a level crossing to permit the passage of a metre gauge passenger train. There is more of this about than D realised but a trip just to ride the remaining metre gauge tracks may be too tough a mission. <br />
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Our agent has booked us into the Lion Safari Camp near Sasan Gir and the Gir Forest national Park. This park is the home of the only Asiatic lions surviving in the wild, the population being recorded as only 13 in the early years of the 20th century. There are now at least 400 lions in the reserve as well as leopards, hyenas and jackals along with lots of birds. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBQ_eEfcSM-LOh7_Lu7HZC0In49QRAVWsynHq470w8nrkp9J8rYWX7zOo7ZukeVfyVPzbUGTAcXyUjztUDc0OIud9jJd8KfSbiTF6VEXS6J4XmC-H2QV_yAyUea_yWWy-RtJLowoGbChEu/s1600/DSCF5547.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIC6rXAMx8zSCwiU_FSInOW01epJOu9gkQdH58coFNAamj4zj7iGcUTti_vt19IeRQ1cUAP3XwBKCkFa4ELvEHXLqBSRt-p2ZxwrH9X0h1TUSXIQVTN0j6lVz41Y_82XudkqRycgpP5xKH/s1600/DSCF5535.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIC6rXAMx8zSCwiU_FSInOW01epJOu9gkQdH58coFNAamj4zj7iGcUTti_vt19IeRQ1cUAP3XwBKCkFa4ELvEHXLqBSRt-p2ZxwrH9X0h1TUSXIQVTN0j6lVz41Y_82XudkqRycgpP5xKH/s320/DSCF5535.JPG" width="320" /></a><br />We check into the Camp to discover that we do not have the safari booking that we thought we had. Davendra pitches in on our behalf and it soon transpires that we do have a jeep booked and paid for but no entry permit. The system for getting these sounds like it has been devised by Indian Railways on a bad day. Meantime we occupy our "tent". R said that she wouldn't camp but was converted to canvas cabins in Oz. This one has A/c and an en-suite bathroom with comfy seats on the verandah. That's R sorted then.<br />
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D grabs a hasty lunch and with Davendra heads for the Park Office which opens at 2.30 and will issue 15 permits for 3.30 admission to the park. D calculates that he is 14th or 15th in the queue but people keep arriving and leaving. At 2.40 prompt the office opens and a limited number of registration forms handed out. D gets the one numbered 17 but they keep handing out into the 20's. The people at the back of the queue who miss out go frantic , offering money if you will add their names to your permit. A chap from the Lion Camp appears and explains what needs to be done. D just shuffles forward in the queue and eventually gets to the window. Money is handed over, we have our permit and now we need to race back to the camp, collect R, board the jeep and get going. It is a mad system.<br />
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The jeep is actually known as a gypsy and has raised seating in the back behind the driver which gives an excellent view all round. We pick up our guide, Jemal, and head for the Park entrance. We receive an explanation of the wildlife in the park as we drive and we soon see spotted deer, the meal of choice for Gir lions. An endless list of sightings will be boring so here are a few photos instead.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO0FEXOezBu04EPswjPqqnHcZTB77m79OAcGTM88HxfvTsWIm52SQswBYFlRtSsXnlfQhFIwEC1FKqXImysI0ozmU35Qy5DQ7dyi0WWrUIPWetastZvMRF3SoVY6FB7QeqjxUIq9bi_NPK/s1600/DSCF5563.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO0FEXOezBu04EPswjPqqnHcZTB77m79OAcGTM88HxfvTsWIm52SQswBYFlRtSsXnlfQhFIwEC1FKqXImysI0ozmU35Qy5DQ7dyi0WWrUIPWetastZvMRF3SoVY6FB7QeqjxUIq9bi_NPK/s200/DSCF5563.JPG" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNg9e3UnKxFS3oI-9RCnoACYhmXretwmMcnCR_DlCHL6LGj1g0s2sEhfYOY6QqrS77cp5_jU3npdYx3U-X-emtj0ejf8bf7n0F1hyimzYIpUpnk4t0cpcNEmWuwIlOcQe1ZDZi7KKX64A8/s1600/DSCF5543.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNg9e3UnKxFS3oI-9RCnoACYhmXretwmMcnCR_DlCHL6LGj1g0s2sEhfYOY6QqrS77cp5_jU3npdYx3U-X-emtj0ejf8bf7n0F1hyimzYIpUpnk4t0cpcNEmWuwIlOcQe1ZDZi7KKX64A8/s200/DSCF5543.JPG" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJLQAE-Ap5lXWTk8FvWqegw2iN7eL86zSCGwab7tAwRy9yQyjDqb2C_u4ZRt2jpYoXSFL-j1jZR4XdnyUjVWGZsS8aAkE44Xhzb4pH_i1aqF5lFK2YHl2G1udExeBQH9V55bDY3IpUikvw/s1600/DSCF5548.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJLQAE-Ap5lXWTk8FvWqegw2iN7eL86zSCGwab7tAwRy9yQyjDqb2C_u4ZRt2jpYoXSFL-j1jZR4XdnyUjVWGZsS8aAkE44Xhzb4pH_i1aqF5lFK2YHl2G1udExeBQH9V55bDY3IpUikvw/s200/DSCF5548.JPG" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJLQAE-Ap5lXWTk8FvWqegw2iN7eL86zSCGwab7tAwRy9yQyjDqb2C_u4ZRt2jpYoXSFL-j1jZR4XdnyUjVWGZsS8aAkE44Xhzb4pH_i1aqF5lFK2YHl2G1udExeBQH9V55bDY3IpUikvw/s1600/DSCF5548.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHwrK85uDokVBajyrucZkwg884ovQtZviPGO6dM3JBR91UPr6tQmQ_tfXhBm4jz9OftV-VDt9eiHej5CAs4_XffJDneJmzoeehyphenhyphenZaB_81F666BYuBMBi0fy1x3LtKSzXFwGsj69a440QI8/s1600/DSCF5551.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHwrK85uDokVBajyrucZkwg884ovQtZviPGO6dM3JBR91UPr6tQmQ_tfXhBm4jz9OftV-VDt9eiHej5CAs4_XffJDneJmzoeehyphenhyphenZaB_81F666BYuBMBi0fy1x3LtKSzXFwGsj69a440QI8/s200/DSCF5551.JPG" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha9rdKTiELQqNeqMaIeLnoiT-_z_gpgnquoyvfER_gm0O1mYZ6TSlu0P3qFwMJO0DT24layo6-Dae_PHZEY9rPjyj5cFv0sVAvq9Mz-D_izJcU7iTxaQJgk9KXENhXSXDrXCWR6PkG6TX3/s1600/DSCF5574.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha9rdKTiELQqNeqMaIeLnoiT-_z_gpgnquoyvfER_gm0O1mYZ6TSlu0P3qFwMJO0DT24layo6-Dae_PHZEY9rPjyj5cFv0sVAvq9Mz-D_izJcU7iTxaQJgk9KXENhXSXDrXCWR6PkG6TX3/s200/DSCF5574.JPG" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBQ_eEfcSM-LOh7_Lu7HZC0In49QRAVWsynHq470w8nrkp9J8rYWX7zOo7ZukeVfyVPzbUGTAcXyUjztUDc0OIud9jJd8KfSbiTF6VEXS6J4XmC-H2QV_yAyUea_yWWy-RtJLowoGbChEu/s1600/DSCF5547.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBQ_eEfcSM-LOh7_Lu7HZC0In49QRAVWsynHq470w8nrkp9J8rYWX7zOo7ZukeVfyVPzbUGTAcXyUjztUDc0OIud9jJd8KfSbiTF6VEXS6J4XmC-H2QV_yAyUea_yWWy-RtJLowoGbChEu/s200/DSCF5547.JPG" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUMlWJV8-RaEr84VKo0XKLNmrIA-34oCyj2HzIL-gaetqOKvJvDeVb7uquEJqJKybefTba6A0H1VuTd1XYbliKD7SkO9w0zRZgqpiOnrmxZxglB3RzTbN92KEAAiM0TeUv02BrGXXa2l2C/s1600/DSCF5517.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgg2g8wnBT38LCoivvzgBBYDvGVjwZmXD5-ImhMDQwrq5HaAS1mkTPwWmxUJwq8Y9JYJTOQx55uPE_Vy-sijCYrzSRw-aoX557hjwph9do_iNvQTCtqv1UvGqiKbKJ3Pzttom2r8CpAat6/s1600/DSCF5581.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><br /><br />The four lions that we see are the highlight but the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paradise_flycatcher" target="_blank">Paradise Flycatcher</a> was also amazing. It won't stay still for a photo but it is beautiful. Our two and a half hours just flies by and it is time to return to camp just as the light fades. On the edge of the river at the bottom of the camp area R spots a Purple Swamphen, one of her favourites. A member of the camp staff, seeing our interest in birds offers to take us on a a bird walk at first light tomorrow. We enjoy our buffet supper and sleep well.<br />
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R+D's travelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11203558327305830800noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2706194841314251325.post-20382834873527052382013-02-16T21:33:00.000+05:302013-02-17T16:30:06.051+05:30Thursday 14th - What's the time Mr Wolf?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiojyJaobrjlnPnvZlVdPx0uxQAyw4Hw42xhn7wmnr8X3Fy_5PPeGWKKX5ANNVSXnVE08SHptuqcCU276FteSsVuS-HP5QccGVGvBZAuWT_G-ZazTWYf3jSaSuWpwBlKbvuUoiXqJOZ9r8s/s1600/DSCF5451.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiojyJaobrjlnPnvZlVdPx0uxQAyw4Hw42xhn7wmnr8X3Fy_5PPeGWKKX5ANNVSXnVE08SHptuqcCU276FteSsVuS-HP5QccGVGvBZAuWT_G-ZazTWYf3jSaSuWpwBlKbvuUoiXqJOZ9r8s/s200/DSCF5451.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
We make our way to the dining hall as it is just starting to get light. There we meet a Canadian lady and very serious wildlife photographer who is also safari-ing this morning. After a quick cup of tea it is time to go. Our jeep turns up a few minutes late but when we get to the entrance to the Velavadar Reserve we see that we have not missed much. Everybody is waiting for the registration official to arrive. While we we wait we spot a wild boar, a couple of very distant blackbuck and some nilgai. The latter is a sort of large, clumsy deer which is treated as a cow by the Hindu population.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsX9TassRGWFqZNDCwXDlwgOTsV0PZqLeiv59vEwumvYtZ4z4eptSGs03a4xQHj52mn29za1nC6bIeZBd-_8f0MQwDgXckUKrNY2xyLJJC6zXplHWAX_zAh1sIA0-FMPxAERl3Q5mZiTE5/s1600/DSCF5402.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsX9TassRGWFqZNDCwXDlwgOTsV0PZqLeiv59vEwumvYtZ4z4eptSGs03a4xQHj52mn29za1nC6bIeZBd-_8f0MQwDgXckUKrNY2xyLJJC6zXplHWAX_zAh1sIA0-FMPxAERl3Q5mZiTE5/s200/DSCF5402.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
The babu arrives and we have to go through a form filling exercise. There is an American of Indian origin in the queue and he is very cross about the wait and is scathing about Indian bureaucracy. We are reminded mostly of U.S. Immigration procedures. Paperwork done we are joined by a guide and we head off into the reserve. We soon see plenty of Blackbuck at close quarters. We also see a long line of migrating cranes pass over us - a very impressive sight.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz77JPWL-Nzkudaf2oVDPgezKS5tooJsZ33E0RGJEi33y90ijs-7OWBJOpSaJU27wUv5t2G_lKqXEvCvqlFedazEp8SwlMGJ04Hy-A9Wpns-vyAb_SKY02mKYw4O460LYJ70drapqbxUje/s1600/DSCF5425.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz77JPWL-Nzkudaf2oVDPgezKS5tooJsZ33E0RGJEi33y90ijs-7OWBJOpSaJU27wUv5t2G_lKqXEvCvqlFedazEp8SwlMGJ04Hy-A9Wpns-vyAb_SKY02mKYw4O460LYJ70drapqbxUje/s200/DSCF5425.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGa6Rc8T46fnqX-0pZxPEhyQnSUAl2zeo7waSIi50sD6MfjqLvMFxzqD3Xs6qYZ_oKHNnImPGFWr9AVaSVEvLHU5cutI80qzUz5ksU3FER-5smVVKpr4Sfi69mI2-4Gw7qnrC55g1dJsMt/s1600/DSCF5456.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a> R spots a hawk in a tree which the guide identifies as a common kestrel. The sun breaks through the cloud cover dramatically improving the light and before long we spot a jungle cat which refuses to smile for the camera and slinks off in a sulk. There were hundreds of blackbuck in various groups. The guide is very good at identifying birds and we see several species new to us as well as having some of our uncertain IDs confirmed. We get another jungle cat sighting, this time more fleeting and our guide points out a hyena den where we stop the jeep and he tries to persuade the hyenas to show themselves. No luck.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGa6Rc8T46fnqX-0pZxPEhyQnSUAl2zeo7waSIi50sD6MfjqLvMFxzqD3Xs6qYZ_oKHNnImPGFWr9AVaSVEvLHU5cutI80qzUz5ksU3FER-5smVVKpr4Sfi69mI2-4Gw7qnrC55g1dJsMt/s1600/DSCF5456.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGa6Rc8T46fnqX-0pZxPEhyQnSUAl2zeo7waSIi50sD6MfjqLvMFxzqD3Xs6qYZ_oKHNnImPGFWr9AVaSVEvLHU5cutI80qzUz5ksU3FER-5smVVKpr4Sfi69mI2-4Gw7qnrC55g1dJsMt/s200/DSCF5456.JPG" width="200" /></a>We move on to a different section of the park where we meet the Canadian lady who has seen the hyenas and who takes our photo for us. We do, however, spot three grey wolves and D is able to get some decent photos. They seem to be stalking a herd of blackbuck and we watch for a while until something alerts the blackbuck and they head away like the wind. This is a great conclusion to our safari and sets us up nicely for breakfast, after which it is time to hit the road again. Sadly we do not get the opportunity to try out the open air shower attached to our bathroom.<br />
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Today's detination is Diu, a small island off the coast of Gujarat that was a Portuguese colony until 1961 when the Indian Army moved in. It does not form part of Gujarat state but is separately managed as part of the Union Territories. Our guidebook mentions that there is a still a Portuguese flavour to the culture and the cooking here so we decided to give it a visit. First we have to get there.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNc9YMPmSqdQqjX1GMcQVH54093ZW1BxT7a3V6d8xn4k-aC6wLuoAXRV8-jQp68YnsiwC2SmzxqnYlY6gkFsweZ8VBfFog9ZnIWGisQocSblRePfcutrdsseaRzu0-RPPdYN4C6QPHFiZS/s1600/DSCF5474.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNc9YMPmSqdQqjX1GMcQVH54093ZW1BxT7a3V6d8xn4k-aC6wLuoAXRV8-jQp68YnsiwC2SmzxqnYlY6gkFsweZ8VBfFog9ZnIWGisQocSblRePfcutrdsseaRzu0-RPPdYN4C6QPHFiZS/s200/DSCF5474.JPG" width="200" /></a>Once we regain the main road it is plain sailing as far south as Bhavnagar, a port city. On the way we pass through an area of tidal mudflats where we see painted storks, a spoonbill and pelicans. Beyond Bhavnagar the road is narrow and winding with a lot of heavy traffic. The two great beliefs of Indian drivers are much in evidence. Firstly - if I flash my lights at you it makes me invincible and you will be vanquished in any head on collision. Secondly - if I blow my horn long and hard enough all obstacles will magically disappear. We make reasonable progress and avoid some traffic incidents.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBm8hpWOuGgQSSaPOfP1T7zWvPNhclSem7XQVku1DawlbxHdTY4Jqu2iDV3q7DFbWkaR0gEuJm842CBPf65g7sSjCJzf3GYDEBZkHvRiZVZY_Y2u4TE0ZR3vbsTUa4VQIz9PMDuPBPBVP3/s1600/DSCF5479.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBm8hpWOuGgQSSaPOfP1T7zWvPNhclSem7XQVku1DawlbxHdTY4Jqu2iDV3q7DFbWkaR0gEuJm842CBPf65g7sSjCJzf3GYDEBZkHvRiZVZY_Y2u4TE0ZR3vbsTUa4VQIz9PMDuPBPBVP3/s200/DSCF5479.JPG" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQX2D-Keivt0x8srKZkMZz5fwLFRiTbQX13zUmKG5ajGHju5xOvTNWhINk9FOLJEHaRk7AaiPYFhlIfP8kX8sgyYoqIbffs-hy2tKLMfzWvWWHmuj5S0ad0nlPi0qOXboei0o3qgt758yW/s1600/DSCF5499.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a> About 100km short of our destination the road conditions deteriorate dramatically. For about 50 kilometres the road looks as if it has been subjected to prolonged and effective air strikes. There are huge craters, invisible changes in level and the surface is a mixture of rubble and dust. The heavy traffic stirs this up to create a fog. Our driver tells us that he will be repeating this trip in a few days time. He doesn't appear to be looking forward to it.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq858C4cKY0OPtSqX6bxX6516ROFsfaK7D0IffPvw0AZzOlbNwn2JHofbxxXR1GSf0LytDg50Tly3Ve3pRGMdEgZp_W8W2HjOpzWO4dZ3pHQB3GSoLZBkN9TAHUBbmvW3KIPjh-7cpace5/s1600/DSCF5493.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq858C4cKY0OPtSqX6bxX6516ROFsfaK7D0IffPvw0AZzOlbNwn2JHofbxxXR1GSf0LytDg50Tly3Ve3pRGMdEgZp_W8W2HjOpzWO4dZ3pHQB3GSoLZBkN9TAHUBbmvW3KIPjh-7cpace5/s200/DSCF5493.JPG" width="200" /></a>We have to pay a road tax when we get to the Diu border post and then are free to drive across the bridge linking the island with the mainland. We find our hotel very easily and get checked in. We picked it out of Lonely Planet which described it as still smelling new in 2009. Time has not treated the rooms well but it will do for one night. We dump our bags and head out to explore. A lot of places are closed as Diu is primarily a weekend resort for people who wish to leave dry Gujurat behind and enjoy freely available and very cheap alcohol. We are different - we want a beer in mid-week and this takes a little tracking down but we eventually find a small bar open - empty apart from a few flies - and we set about a bottle of beer each. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQX2D-Keivt0x8srKZkMZz5fwLFRiTbQX13zUmKG5ajGHju5xOvTNWhINk9FOLJEHaRk7AaiPYFhlIfP8kX8sgyYoqIbffs-hy2tKLMfzWvWWHmuj5S0ad0nlPi0qOXboei0o3qgt758yW/s1600/DSCF5499.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQX2D-Keivt0x8srKZkMZz5fwLFRiTbQX13zUmKG5ajGHju5xOvTNWhINk9FOLJEHaRk7AaiPYFhlIfP8kX8sgyYoqIbffs-hy2tKLMfzWvWWHmuj5S0ad0nlPi0qOXboei0o3qgt758yW/s200/DSCF5499.JPG" width="200" /></a><br />
Refreshed we seek out somewhere to dine and following the book's recommendation we take a look at O'Coqueiro Music Garden and Restaurant. This looks charming and has an interesting menu - mainly fish dishes. On the way back to the hotel we stop off for one of the famous local ice creams each. R has ginger and D has custard apple. <br />
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After a quick wash and brush up we return and get one of only two vacant tables. We have calamari with garlic, prawn pakoras followed by kingfish in tomato and ginger gravy and prawns in coconut sauce. All excellent with nice cold beer to help it down. All for less than £10. </div>
R+D's travelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11203558327305830800noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2706194841314251325.post-39749102540156480412013-02-16T21:07:00.001+05:302013-02-16T21:07:35.193+05:30Wednesday 13th - Another sunny day in Gujarat.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Early start today as we are taking a road trip to visit some of the wildlife sites in Saurashtra - part of western Gujarat. This has been arranged for us by Vikram Dhoot, a travel agent in this part of the world who turns up promptly just as we finish breakfast and we hand over the monies due. He introduces us to our driver, Davendra and we get under way. The roads around the city are pretty good although the same cannot be said for the general standard of driving. Our man seems to be the right mixture of skilled and cautious and actually uses his mirrors for driving rather than looking at young ladies. He tells us that he was once driver for a few days for Mick Jagger. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5VWqHVme7HTuYtWsQW3WKW1YP-lGal1LR3yF1LNoAn_8s5ZDRq4EKIGktCY7FxvQ0YobY9mh1a6-a5lL_EcqVlTSE03oE9S_aPGXiNRAmSJwmgF7QqWYGlDNSwgdIl50W-fYmCwY1bnkg/s1600/DSCF5299.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5VWqHVme7HTuYtWsQW3WKW1YP-lGal1LR3yF1LNoAn_8s5ZDRq4EKIGktCY7FxvQ0YobY9mh1a6-a5lL_EcqVlTSE03oE9S_aPGXiNRAmSJwmgF7QqWYGlDNSwgdIl50W-fYmCwY1bnkg/s200/DSCF5299.JPG" width="200" /></a>We head south west on a busy dual carriageway and soon leave the city behind us. There is near desert scrubland with camels as well as cotton fields and a sprinkling of shiny new bio-chemical factories. In Gujarat it appears to be acceptable to go anti-clockwise around roundabouts as well as clockwise but otherwise it is just the usual series of near death experiences that come with any trip on Indian roads. The road crosses and recrosses the Gandhigram - Botad junction metre gauge railway line. At one point we see a passenger train - possibly even the same one that we saw yesterday on its way back to Gandhigram.<br /> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCYoElH-9OTrHDi8T8Tcqkx5pWTaWlgKiw9Y9NsO3hJtdjUIJr4wBf9dIt9SMO6sBEkpuNm0oV3ZQz4hDkYB9KyUPkJtWc4ItxSrSdgt2K5KmiB2HCdzSUlWhvFvkRRpd_58mgMK3MFYOs/s1600/DSCF5304.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCYoElH-9OTrHDi8T8Tcqkx5pWTaWlgKiw9Y9NsO3hJtdjUIJr4wBf9dIt9SMO6sBEkpuNm0oV3ZQz4hDkYB9KyUPkJtWc4ItxSrSdgt2K5KmiB2HCdzSUlWhvFvkRRpd_58mgMK3MFYOs/s200/DSCF5304.JPG" width="200" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrdDsAw9tHQhbxAGActSGMfezNes6E4r_lzCsNIqWZHmjYw2dgTfp8gRDNhvMD3fYr5Qay6ZCVlTRzf55SWNXAco9Zs6rgYgZE4fWD8YsZzoFMvzeuDDmVcRDox_9rLgcDrmYByvdjPqfv/s1600/DSCF5310.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a>We turn off the main highway towards Bhavanagar and things get distinctly more rural. For a while we are stuck behind Postman Patel but he stops to chat with Mrs Goggins and we can progress. After about three hours drive we spot the sign that says we are entering the Velavadar National Park and soon we turn off onto a very minor road. R describes its surface as corrugated. Another 10km or so brings us to the Blackbuck Lodge which is our destination. <br /><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrdDsAw9tHQhbxAGActSGMfezNes6E4r_lzCsNIqWZHmjYw2dgTfp8gRDNhvMD3fYr5Qay6ZCVlTRzf55SWNXAco9Zs6rgYgZE4fWD8YsZzoFMvzeuDDmVcRDox_9rLgcDrmYByvdjPqfv/s1600/DSCF5310.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrdDsAw9tHQhbxAGActSGMfezNes6E4r_lzCsNIqWZHmjYw2dgTfp8gRDNhvMD3fYr5Qay6ZCVlTRzf55SWNXAco9Zs6rgYgZE4fWD8YsZzoFMvzeuDDmVcRDox_9rLgcDrmYByvdjPqfv/s200/DSCF5310.JPG" width="200" /></a>We are both stunned when we are shown to our bungalow which is fitted out in marble with most mod cons. We were expecting a rather spartan room based on our previous experience of wildlife resorts. We sort out a few basics including a jeep safari for tomorrow morning and then R settles down on our shady verandah for a spot of serious bird watching. D calls the highly recommended guest house in Diu who have been telling us to call nearer the time since November. Last week we were told to call the day before. Today they tell us that they are full. A quick look at Lonely Planet, another call and we are fixed up.<br />
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There are plenty of birds to watch but we struggle to identify them all. D decides that his camera is not up to serious bird shots although this one of a wire-tailed swallow came out quite well. We also think that we get a good ID on a pair of rufous-tailed larks. <br /><br />
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The watching area gets a bit crowded so we return to our room for a nice cuppa Darjeeling and more observation from the verandah. Francolins appear in the scrub close to us - a pair with a youngster. As the sun sinks we get a fantastic display of colour in the sky followed by a slowly sinking orb of fire. No photoshopping needed here.<br /><br /><br />
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As the place is a bit more upmarket than we expected we decided to dress for dinner. Having showers in a sunken marble bath is a new experience for both of us and feels luxurious somehow. The meal itself is a buffet. We have decided on the vegetarian option. Judging by the news we are seeing on the BBC here we suspect that most people in the UK have probably become vegetarians by now. The meal is rounded off with two desserts - ice cream and gulab jamun - one of D's faves.<br /><br />Early night as we are on safari in the morning.</div>
R+D's travelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11203558327305830800noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2706194841314251325.post-20473635014488550312013-02-12T22:44:00.000+05:302013-02-18T07:06:01.801+05:30Tuesday 12th - It's Dry in Gujarat<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Ahmedabad is a bit noisy but we get a decent night's sleep and wake up in raring to go tourist mode. The sun is shining brightly from a clear sky and there is none of that sticky humidity from further south. After breakfast we take an auto to the Sabarmati Ashram , Gandhi's home for many years.<br />
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As we arrive we here a strange birdsong from the trees above us. Eventually we spot the culprits - palm squirrels. The Ashram is now a museum devoted to the story of Gandhi's life and achievements and is quite well done. There are some quite prophetic quotes by the great man about the calibre of politician that the new India will require. Not too sure that he would approve of some of the current crop.<br />
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Some of the Ashram's living quarters are preserved - there isn't much by way of fixtures and fittings on show but then they deliberately minimised the quantity of possessions that they held on to. There were several school parties and a group of deaf youths taking tours but the place still had a quite peaceful air about it.<br />
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For our next stop we took a ride to the famous Ahmedabad hotel and restaurant, the House of MG. We were thinking of doing one of their tours but were advised that the traffic in the middle of the day made this impracticable so we settled for a light lunch instead. The plate should be full of samosas but they were too good to resist and most were eaten by the time our sharbats arrived.<br />
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On our way back to our hotel we took a detour to find another hotel with one of the few Liquor stores in Gujarat. when we got there we were told that it was closed for the day. So we had to make do with a cup of tea in the shade of our room. Once the full glare was over we headed out to the Tourist Office to see about getting ourselves registered for a liquor permit which allows the purchase of a monthly ration. Foreigners can get such a permit - but not today unless they go to the airport as all of the liquor shops are shut - apparently for electoral reasons. Don't get us wrong - we are not dipsomaniacs but tourism can be very thirsty work and a man can only take so much Sprite.<br />
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In order to overcome our disappointment we took a stroll over to Gandhigram railway station on the metre gauge line that runs south west out of the city into rural Gujarat. The queues at the booking office were not too bad so D stood in line and in due course was able to cash in his surplus ticket - another railway experience ticked off.<br />
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There isn't a huge amount of traffic on this line but there was a train standing in one of the sidings so we took a walk along the track to get a good look. The rolling stock is pretty grimey as metre gauge is definitely on its way out in India so maintenance is minimal and investment non-existent. We continued our walk to the next level crossing where we took the road leading to the hotel we had planned to use when we return to Ahmedabad next week. It gets the thumbs down and we have to look elsewhere. Fortunately our current hotel, the Always Hotel Riverview now has a room for our dates so we switch our booking. Sadly the House of MG is full.<br />
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Tonight we need to seriously repack as we have an early start to the next part of our trip. We eat in and the food is OK but not the best that we have had in our travels. From here on for five days we are not sure what internet access we are going to have. We do hope to have some good photos so keep watching this space.</div>
R+D's travelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11203558327305830800noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2706194841314251325.post-76256893785664240012013-02-12T15:20:00.001+05:302013-02-12T15:20:17.394+05:30Monday 11th - BCT - ADI A/C Double Decker Express<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmNuiL-g-O4gMlk-OIITWaRxqgNVS3xdJ2y-x6DF35ZawNQZiljIfIBXFNxxUKyGg_tu4Xa3ZTarhqkbcisEQodGtRQkMHcKNqm0g8OHTOpr-qhaiTwkLYulXYmo0FASlIK5niyzF-6_EW/s1600/DSCF5261.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmNuiL-g-O4gMlk-OIITWaRxqgNVS3xdJ2y-x6DF35ZawNQZiljIfIBXFNxxUKyGg_tu4Xa3ZTarhqkbcisEQodGtRQkMHcKNqm0g8OHTOpr-qhaiTwkLYulXYmo0FASlIK5niyzF-6_EW/s1600/DSCF5261.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUfbv3H3NROY0b8THneS0fHyxXJJH6glpFu6WfFX1ghaFruvh_b7d81-VV0uRIcsl5QCym4gfabnN6e3qiI9TxvKG2uj9bklJfKE6pMJWJQ423_I7d8x52kC3gskBpd_KrGJ2kxY6_v03X/s1600/DSCF5237.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUfbv3H3NROY0b8THneS0fHyxXJJH6glpFu6WfFX1ghaFruvh_b7d81-VV0uRIcsl5QCym4gfabnN6e3qiI9TxvKG2uj9bklJfKE6pMJWJQ423_I7d8x52kC3gskBpd_KrGJ2kxY6_v03X/s200/DSCF5237.JPG" width="150" /></a><br />
The luxury living must come to am end. But not before we have one of those wonderful Intercontinental breakfasts. You haven't lived until you have had a man carve your banana and strawberries for you. We nip out to a Cyber Cafe just to let the world know that we are alive. R spends a last few minutes in the glamorous ambience of the Intercontinental's lobby and then it is time to go. We are getting the hang of Mumbai taxis - the ride to Mumbai Central costs less than half what we paid last year to travel in the opposite direction.<br /><br />At the station R is deposited with the bags in the rather grand Upper Class Waiting Room while D sets about some admin and exploration. He has a surplus ticket purchased in Kolkata in order to test the Foreign Tourist Booking system. At the ticket counters there are long queues except at the one marked Refunds - it is closed. There is even a long line at the Ladies Only desk so there is no point in sending R. On the way back into the main station D spots a Platform Ticket counter so buys one. The chap behind the desk seems rather startled to be disturbed from his reading.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSnn5rJegaRfdrn7KV1PhYpXz4QLdsnn-N9np9heMzRifBeD8_18lB3NHC6fh9kVeR8UfrftHhNuPaEmtqGeYBrFuzaFCFCOXr2y3okE7H3DxPNnE9y-7EwKUSzbfhcjY-8ZRp60JS0AJA/s1600/DSCF5254.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSnn5rJegaRfdrn7KV1PhYpXz4QLdsnn-N9np9heMzRifBeD8_18lB3NHC6fh9kVeR8UfrftHhNuPaEmtqGeYBrFuzaFCFCOXr2y3okE7H3DxPNnE9y-7EwKUSzbfhcjY-8ZRp60JS0AJA/s200/DSCF5254.JPG" width="200" /></a>Of course the main objective today is to sample one of the new double deck trains that Indian Railways have been introducing over the last year or so. These are all Chair Class accommodation. Our train arrives from Ahmedabad at about 1.30 and they are still finishing off the cleaning as we board. First observation is that these coaches do not have a lot of luggage space. One of our bags will not fit in the overhead rack above our seats and has to be put at the end of the coach. The length of chain that D has lugged round India finally comes in useful. We have rear facingseats at a table for 4 in the centre of the upper deck. Most of the seats are airline style - 3 on one side of the aisle and 2 on the other.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwC-YTENbkY6IedlIyi1sZ3jC5MyLZtgmoGn-GGtCDHdUVDhMm2TMi3MaGNnhLpFZp4doiYXUDQIemsOJuliKN5NIuuJeVEQxZzbhW0-ez6lRsKzVOeBzo3nHOX2rC8VzM_4HyXGPE9N1b/s1600/DSCF5259.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwC-YTENbkY6IedlIyi1sZ3jC5MyLZtgmoGn-GGtCDHdUVDhMm2TMi3MaGNnhLpFZp4doiYXUDQIemsOJuliKN5NIuuJeVEQxZzbhW0-ez6lRsKzVOeBzo3nHOX2rC8VzM_4HyXGPE9N1b/s200/DSCF5259.JPG" width="200" /></a>The peace and quiet of our coach is shattered when a flock of about 15 Aunties descends upon us. They are on some sort of outing and most of them are wearing matching saris. Boy can they make a racket. As usual with the Indian ticketing system they are dotted around the coach and each takes turns in trying every single seat on the group ticket. The rest of the coach fills up apart from the table of 6 opposite us which the Aunties commandeer as the site for their running buffet. <br /><br />The food just goes on and on. A young man appears to claim one of the window seats at the table <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmNuiL-g-O4gMlk-OIITWaRxqgNVS3xdJ2y-x6DF35ZawNQZiljIfIBXFNxxUKyGg_tu4Xa3ZTarhqkbcisEQodGtRQkMHcKNqm0g8OHTOpr-qhaiTwkLYulXYmo0FASlIK5niyzF-6_EW/s1600/DSCF5261.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmNuiL-g-O4gMlk-OIITWaRxqgNVS3xdJ2y-x6DF35ZawNQZiljIfIBXFNxxUKyGg_tu4Xa3ZTarhqkbcisEQodGtRQkMHcKNqm0g8OHTOpr-qhaiTwkLYulXYmo0FASlIK5niyzF-6_EW/s200/DSCF5261.JPG" width="200" /></a>and is shooed away. He has to stand at the end of the coach when the train gets under way. We have been joined by a chap who is going to Ahmedabad to look at a flat. He seems determined to start a row with every vendor who passes as he complains about short measures of chai and sauce sachets that won't open. At the first stop the table opposite fills with a family of six, the spare man sitting at the last seat of our table. There is a bit of a row about who is taking up all of the luggage space - we keep our heads down.<br /><br />The train makes good progress - according to the information display at the end of the coach there are times when we hit 119 kph. We cross from Maharastra into Gujarat. At Bilimora and Kosamba we see the 2'6" gauge branch lines that still carry one or two daily trains. There was rolling stock visible but our train's speed made photography impossible. Gujarat still has a good few narrow and metre gauge lines. Pity that they also have prohibition. About half way into the journey the TTE arrives, scarcely glances at our ticket and fails to collect the additional fare due. About an hour later a youth in jeans and a pink tee shirt stands next to us with a piece of paper and looks forlorn. Somebody translates for us. "He needs 70 rupees" D expresses doubts about his official status and asks for a receipt. The youth goes away and is rreplaced by the TTE who occupies a temporarily spare seat at the table of six. <br /><br />For the next hour we feel as if we have front row seats at a performance of a familiar pantomime that has been dubbed into Serbo-Croat. There are gales of laughter all round as the TTE is offered paan that is not to his taste and when one of the family help themselves to a vendor's napkins while he is looking the other way. Even D's comment that nobody in India has change gets a laugh when the time comes to pay up the extra fare. Then various other people in the coach arrive to pay their surcharge, apparently quite voluntarily. For his piece de resistance our TTE gets tough with the platform vendors who try to sneak on board at Vadodara. All in all it is a very jolly hour though we haven't really got a clue what is going on. The Aunties even chip in with a bit of singing.<br /><br />After running ahead of time for much of the trip we sit outside Ahmedabad for 20 minutes and get in late. Trying to get out of the station is like trying to leave a football match while carrying luggage. We grab the first auto. The driver is either seriously mad or on something and we are pleased to reach our hotel in one piece.</div>
R+D's travelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11203558327305830800noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2706194841314251325.post-24342765381652977512013-02-11T23:53:00.004+05:302013-02-12T00:19:47.105+05:30Sunday 10th - Sleeping Policemen<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Our friend from yesterday gets off at Panvel, about an hour before we are due into Chhatrapati Shivaji Terminus in Mumbai. When D booked this train the monsoon timetable was in force and the train arrived at the very reasonable 10.33 a.m. The non-monsoon arrival time is a less friendly 4.25 a.m. We were around half an hour late into a surprisingly busy CST - still called Victoria terminus by many locals.<br />
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Booking our luggage into the cloakroom was farcical. First you queue at the cloakroom to have stickers put on the locks on your luggage - but only some not all. Then you take your luggage back out to a scanning machine manned by two Railway Police - who had to be awakened after our bags been scanned so that they could stamp said stickers. We then returned to the cloakroom and joined the queue. The stamps were checked then D was invited to cross over the counter and deposit the bags on the racks. It's frightening really as there was a serious terrorist attack at this station a few years ago.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwNPsfqCev9jB51MBENkBM0jlrC2-qOrR2dfGlRL6uvDstrecxqrfE7uo0ZAGDD536PXUJ8mEKy3NsMBVWC8uilusEGY1V-P9T1nqvpvyhffutQluSpOwQx_mics8tl4ip-XE7EIFMVqrR/s1600/DSCF5167.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwNPsfqCev9jB51MBENkBM0jlrC2-qOrR2dfGlRL6uvDstrecxqrfE7uo0ZAGDD536PXUJ8mEKy3NsMBVWC8uilusEGY1V-P9T1nqvpvyhffutQluSpOwQx_mics8tl4ip-XE7EIFMVqrR/s200/DSCF5167.JPG" width="200" /></a> Out on the streets it is still dark and pretty quiet and we share the pavements with dozens of people sleeping as well as a few rats and stray dogs.There isn't too much to do in Mumbai around 6 a.m. except to take silly photos. We head in the general direction of the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gateway_of_India" target="_blank">Gateway of India,</a> a large monument bult on the waterfront. This is cordoned off and access will not be permitted for another half hour so we move further along the front to watch the sky lighten and the sun appear. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6YFfGfR1-m0nQm_Ls8RWn-XK8Gm9uawXOaRVdr_njjdi3t2a0uSsrt4GcmFaj47t0g5QRoEcUxiZXyVWjdZ5B55jW61uT6aeAdA5Ph7bcZGtacPbtlXIOPlqI07WvXFGuFXQPSwFLde_P/s1600/DSCF5177.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6YFfGfR1-m0nQm_Ls8RWn-XK8Gm9uawXOaRVdr_njjdi3t2a0uSsrt4GcmFaj47t0g5QRoEcUxiZXyVWjdZ5B55jW61uT6aeAdA5Ph7bcZGtacPbtlXIOPlqI07WvXFGuFXQPSwFLde_P/s200/DSCF5177.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
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As we wait the crowds grow. Clearly lots of people have a similar idea. By the time the sun rises we have been in Mumbai for well over two hours - time flies when you are having fun.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqwpAojveEStIaOphpL7PdC0ms0-yhFv0GkhvAcnm3crsFdxXnDLnZKfVHI7iVm2JT37Ix-iILOpatn6DZMLwTEbv8ALU57hxtYlIyLcSqcY74rYcbh2mFiUezvd4FPQRjC4O01k5lCUMT/s1600/DSCF5194.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqwpAojveEStIaOphpL7PdC0ms0-yhFv0GkhvAcnm3crsFdxXnDLnZKfVHI7iVm2JT37Ix-iILOpatn6DZMLwTEbv8ALU57hxtYlIyLcSqcY74rYcbh2mFiUezvd4FPQRjC4O01k5lCUMT/s200/DSCF5194.JPG" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3KimE3BVWsEtiGWLM1y792poocyzGTWg3mG1ArnChXo8N9AFzGRco1rbnHtrrYQwWB-OCGCkRDsN8e_KE6FGFpyJTdKbsufuna1wmQsQ8y_znQIY528fQgQV9DNXTLXpqF1X_iE4RGRLc/s1600/DSCF5213.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a>We stroll along the waterfront for a while then turn up to Colaba Causeway where we find Cafe Leopold open and serving breakfast. One hardy soul (female) is even drinking beer! Over breakfast we rough out a plan for the morning and head first for the Maidan which is teeming with ad-hoc cricket games and even a boys v girls football match. The activity is frenetic and some fielders appear to be taking part in more than one game. Next port of call is Fabindia - a clothes and furnishings store where R finds a couple of tops. <br />
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Round the corner there is some sort of cultural festival going on. It is called Kala Ghoda and <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3KimE3BVWsEtiGWLM1y792poocyzGTWg3mG1ArnChXo8N9AFzGRco1rbnHtrrYQwWB-OCGCkRDsN8e_KE6FGFpyJTdKbsufuna1wmQsQ8y_znQIY528fQgQV9DNXTLXpqF1X_iE4RGRLc/s1600/DSCF5213.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3KimE3BVWsEtiGWLM1y792poocyzGTWg3mG1ArnChXo8N9AFzGRco1rbnHtrrYQwWB-OCGCkRDsN8e_KE6FGFpyJTdKbsufuna1wmQsQ8y_znQIY528fQgQV9DNXTLXpqF1X_iE4RGRLc/s200/DSCF5213.JPG" width="150" /></a>features all sorts of stuff including environmental messages such as safe driving and not littering. These provide great photo opps but it remains to be seen whether their message is actually getting through. If it had not been so hot we might cheerfully have spent more time here but the lure of a cold beer proved too much and then it was time to get a cab to CST to recover our luggage. This proved much simpler than depositing although the staff have not yet got to grips with the new charges. each item should have been Rs 15 but we were charged Rs 36 for three. <br />
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R here, I am steeled for yet another long rail trip as we emerge from the left luggage office into the taxi rank. We are accosted by the usual mele of drivers and touts so D strikes up a conversation and is deciding against the price quoted in a loud voice. I stroll on and expect to be overtaken by the result and so it proves. I am not good at geography so I am a bit surprised when I realise that I know where I am - on Marine Drive opposite the Intercontinental Hotel, a favourite place of mine. As we pull up in the driveway I am stunned as D tells me he has booked us in for the night as a surprise - fantastic! I do love a bit of luxury. We won't bore you with the photos again but if you missed them look <b><a href="http://radinja2.blogspot.in/2012/03/sunday-4th-gateway-of-india.html" target="_blank">here</a>.</b><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJBtHascdShZobFZgDOvglFrqpTZ1xsZ5CP537tMssGkL0gTe3RTVDCDTgBj5jdOoHdT0aFGYD7QfEId0epQZGyLC0xO0tiOj3HH5ly1srjAgPi4_kDwRCPQFj66S7xBCbAzjrTfk-G5-P/s1600/DSCF5224.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJBtHascdShZobFZgDOvglFrqpTZ1xsZ5CP537tMssGkL0gTe3RTVDCDTgBj5jdOoHdT0aFGYD7QfEId0epQZGyLC0xO0tiOj3HH5ly1srjAgPi4_kDwRCPQFj66S7xBCbAzjrTfk-G5-P/s200/DSCF5224.JPG" width="200" /></a>A freshen up, a stroll along Marine Drive and supper at the Gaylord was our plan. However we arrive at the restaurant an hour before the main menu starts. R vetoes sitting drinking beer so we take a walk over to Churchgate where a bit more of the Kala Ghoda is underway. The crowd is such that we can't get a view of the stage where there is some sort of modern dance performance under way so we settle for admiring the loco outside the Western Railways Headquarters. <br />
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Our appetites are not diminished by the hour's wait and we have a splendid supper of lamb kebabs in sauce, vegetable pulao and a shared naan bread. A long but most enjoyable day.</div>
R+D's travelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11203558327305830800noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2706194841314251325.post-3333297541694964732013-02-11T23:25:00.001+05:302013-02-11T23:25:58.471+05:30Saturday 9th - Up the Junction<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4CjcO7Klk697Tj2Mzl4vpS8zJXMBzOByUd8opORo0X55UXx1xw0hWwlC0doIVsQU2kt9YN8kSOeYjN1b_s3WySqvfWg4buu0PgaFVvUgKi8LWurwHEByWSORIHzzUtHvKAXGrZLrPnDvR/s1600/DSCF5140.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a>Saturday 9th - Up the Junction<br /><br />Our netbook has started making odd noises. Let's hope that it is nothing too serious. Apologies for the gap in posting but the internet went down just before we published Friday's post and we have not had chance to be online since.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4CjcO7Klk697Tj2Mzl4vpS8zJXMBzOByUd8opORo0X55UXx1xw0hWwlC0doIVsQU2kt9YN8kSOeYjN1b_s3WySqvfWg4buu0PgaFVvUgKi8LWurwHEByWSORIHzzUtHvKAXGrZLrPnDvR/s1600/DSCF5140.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4CjcO7Klk697Tj2Mzl4vpS8zJXMBzOByUd8opORo0X55UXx1xw0hWwlC0doIVsQU2kt9YN8kSOeYjN1b_s3WySqvfWg4buu0PgaFVvUgKi8LWurwHEByWSORIHzzUtHvKAXGrZLrPnDvR/s200/DSCF5140.JPG" width="200" /></a>The hotel have stretched our 24 hours to 10.00 a.m. free gratis so there is no hurry this morning. After a leisurely breakfast we pack and check out but leave our bags with the porter. We take a stroll up to St Aloysious' College and wander through the grounds to the chapel. There are quite a few black kites around including one that had found a handy perch on the top of the building.<br />
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The chapel is a no footwear, no photos place and we were watched like hawks so there is no picture of the decorating job that took an Italian two years and eight months. It is apparently inspired by the Sistine Chapel.<br /><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioLanY3utassFXrvYKnvGlKl3LVmGh2ThIqOSuDWTqIReIqZewQ6484ofND-AtKKjXco_Hs9Tz3vrYDj9pQ2ndQwyr5vYbRIvcViJf4sses3lcTsR-ryNgNPi4kmGCModSuFGPClTskbkV/s1600/DSCF5143.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioLanY3utassFXrvYKnvGlKl3LVmGh2ThIqOSuDWTqIReIqZewQ6484ofND-AtKKjXco_Hs9Tz3vrYDj9pQ2ndQwyr5vYbRIvcViJf4sses3lcTsR-ryNgNPi4kmGCModSuFGPClTskbkV/s200/DSCF5143.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
D decided that it was time for another shoe shine and a chap on a pavement stall obliges. He only asks for 20 rupees and seems pleased to get a tip. We are both paying the price a little for last night's chilli squid so beat a retreat to the Goldfinch where we order a cup of tea and make use of the facilities. Once again they excel by not charging us for the tea although they do blot their copybook a little by ordering us a very expensive taxi for the ride to Mangalore Junction Station.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjerVVPXQ-R0b95_sIC_xvtsZJNvhBZp8L-OKZx-99o8LIDc9CHQDAAmqXpZKHL9ggWGJKMKnImEBuWiXN1v-e_ScmdAGMcrDz-Cn2z0gGEDTpYbaQye6vwMn2-4DNmHYd25HItK3vTwnQt/s1600/DSCF5149.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjerVVPXQ-R0b95_sIC_xvtsZJNvhBZp8L-OKZx-99o8LIDc9CHQDAAmqXpZKHL9ggWGJKMKnImEBuWiXN1v-e_ScmdAGMcrDz-Cn2z0gGEDTpYbaQye6vwMn2-4DNmHYd25HItK3vTwnQt/s200/DSCF5149.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
This turns out to be half built and somewhat lacking in facilities but our train is already at the platform and is soon announced. We find our inside berths in 2AC - the best available on this train. Before long a German couple who we recognised from this morning's chapel visit occupy the side berths opposite. The coach next to ours is a 2AC/3AC combination - the first one that D has seen. We load up with a few essentials and leave on time. The other half of our bay of 4 is unoccupied but as it has the totally obscure escape window there is no reason to sit there. <br /><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidYEyFHyWofd7nuu7cV27fWRUZYnTa1wagRtcvrxnINmvOH2E1J2Izmtu6EcicTw23V8JRFOBjaZSqkO_VATx5J0fSWiDgIUFO8rHQismIznTRrtUEM3WsdG1fmH5P9XdCjq6M7glst2st/s1600/DSCF5152.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidYEyFHyWofd7nuu7cV27fWRUZYnTa1wagRtcvrxnINmvOH2E1J2Izmtu6EcicTw23V8JRFOBjaZSqkO_VATx5J0fSWiDgIUFO8rHQismIznTRrtUEM3WsdG1fmH5P9XdCjq6M7glst2st/s200/DSCF5152.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxXJkJ3z7c4FaFN-96LoLQaucccSxpHCGFy7ui9c48JD3WHL7S2Ke0dFG42f8lh2IqjlCv2JZcmeyI4xvK61jZsNnTCISOT2_1KlPIQVgLQJz4pomW0Lcv_Ycl3yGcmDrbbuhXlY0-H8ux/s1600/DSCF5158.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a>Our own window has room for improvement and D activates Plan A at the first station. Here we are also joined by an Indian man who went to the wrong Mangalore station and who has had to hire a taxi to chase the train. His description of the trip is pretty hair-raising. He is a manager for a Swiss food additives company and is quite chatty. He also is very generous with an endless supply of different snacks and goodies - banana chips, cashew nuts and peanuts in jaggery. All very tasty but not good for our diet. Shortly after he joins us a man from the cleaning contractor arrives with a feedback form on the cleanliness of the onboard loos. R refuses on the grounds that the scores available do not go low enough and anyway none of the three of us has yet visited the loo on this train so how can we comment? Mr Feedback Form does not understand why this prevents us from filling in his form.<br /><br />There is no opportunity to give feedback on the bed linen, which bears the laundry marks of <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxXJkJ3z7c4FaFN-96LoLQaucccSxpHCGFy7ui9c48JD3WHL7S2Ke0dFG42f8lh2IqjlCv2JZcmeyI4xvK61jZsNnTCISOT2_1KlPIQVgLQJz4pomW0Lcv_Ycl3yGcmDrbbuhXlY0-H8ux/s1600/DSCF5158.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxXJkJ3z7c4FaFN-96LoLQaucccSxpHCGFy7ui9c48JD3WHL7S2Ke0dFG42f8lh2IqjlCv2JZcmeyI4xvK61jZsNnTCISOT2_1KlPIQVgLQJz4pomW0Lcv_Ycl3yGcmDrbbuhXlY0-H8ux/s200/DSCF5158.JPG" width="200" /></a>Central Railways and, by the look of it, the footprints of several of their employees. They are instantly awarded the "Dirtiest bed linen seen yet in three trips to India" award. As we head north through Goa the sun is sinking rapidly and glows bright red in the darkening sky for a few minutes before disappearing below the horizon. Half an hour was wasted trying to get the colour enhanced on this shot from the train. We are inept when it comes to Photoshop and you will just have to take our word for it. The German couple get off at Madgaon and two Indian men replace them. The fourth bunk in our bay of four is still vacant.<br /><br />By 8.30 most people have retired for the night and we follow suit.<br /></div>
R+D's travelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11203558327305830800noreply@blogger.com0