Early and Almost Empty ...The Taj Mahal

 

Therapy for Agraphobia

From recent photos you may have noticed a penchant developing for inlaid marble, a technique of insetting semi-precious stones into fine marble, used to adorn Rajasthani palaces and fancy bars. This predilection asserted itself in the form of a need to shop as my gaze fell upon the little storefronts of the marble-craft area of Taj-ganj, Agra between the station and the hotel.  And it was with this rather fanciful excitement that I set out to buy myself a marble plate. Agra is probably the worst place, however, to go shopping. It is in Uttar Pradesh, just like Kajuraho and Varanassi where the hassle factor was verging on unbearable in the first leg of my trip.  I did not want to be in this town and I was only staying 24hours, "doing the Taj" and shipping out.  Being home to the one of the wonders of the world, Agra has the potential to be even worse than UP's other tourist towns but with wealthy tour-group tourists kept out of the old town in their ivory towers, I was able to sneak out into craftsman territory and get to the very source of this marvellous artistry.

Having wandered the streets, ignoring touts and shopkeepers using the i-pod method I selected a dusty shop-front with signs of industry around its edges and started to look at small trays and plates within.  They were very attractive and so, surprisingly, were their first prices.  Once I had established that I knew my alabaster and soap stone from my marble, I moved the shopkeeper up to showing me his plates and platters.

There was a platter in a cabinet that called my name, its mother of pearl inlay glistening from its intricate black marble cage.  I asked to see it, I gave it a lingering touch and returned it to the shopkeeper telling him it was just too heavy for me to carry, but beautiful nevertheless.  I think the men in the shop were by this point wondering if I was ever going to part with any cash but they seemed to be enjoying my interest and passion for their art and asked if I would like to see their workshop.  So out of the back of the shop we went, passing through a very dusty storage area where I spotted an gorgeous 4x8 dining table-top adorned with peacocks and parrots in true William Morris fashion.  After a few questions about the impact that red wine spillages may have on it and being assured that they would wash off and not stain it, I was suitably impressed and we went through the courtyard, through the house and up onto the roof where several men were cutting tiny pieces of beautifully shaped and coloured stone and mapping out designs on marble of all shapes and sizes.

We were all chatting comfortably by now so on my way back to the shop I asked them to dust off some of the table tops in the store room for a better look.  Having figured that prices ranged from about 200 to 550 pounds, little murmers of “I can afford this”, “that’s just the price of a few horse rugs” and “you never spend anything on furniture” began to creep in.  I kept the thoughts at bay, pushing them down with a strength of mind honed by Vipassana.  That was until one table was moved and a black Octagonal one revealed.  Not only black, but inlaid with mother of pearl twice as intricate as the talking platter had been and juxtaposed with turquoise …my favourite stone.  It was, for me at least, exquisite.

Fortunately I had been asking how much lots of things were and when I was given the price of this piece, which was a tad higher than some of its similarly-sized neighbours due to the level of workmanship, the murmurs were back and they stayed.  I called for the reinforcement of my work-head and set to work, disseminating packaging charges, keeping them warm but not biting, demonstrating my knowledge of India-UK postal charges, taking apart their initial quotes to ship this exquisite beauty to the UK and then, with much chai, calculator pummeling and displays of how outstanding their “pack man” was, we had a deal.  I went off on a motorbike with the owner to one of the very fancy showrooms they supply to use the debit card facilities and hey presto I was the owner of possibly the most beautiful material item I have ever and might ever own.  Incidentally this has to be a joy of single-life because it was my decision, I spent all that money and it didn’t matter if anybody else liked it!

I took my leave after one of their craftsmen had come down and given my table top a thorough polishing and popped back for a celebratory beer on my hotel roof while the sun set over the Taj Mahal (not something you get to do every day, even in India!).  I returned to the craft quarter at 7pm to meet the “pack man” who in the meanwhile had made a huge, strong box from 2cm thick fluted plastic board encasing a made to measure foam cradle.  I watched the packing then sat down with the courier and did the paperwork before watching my gigantic blue box get squeezed into an auto rickshaw and put-put away.  I know buying and selling, I know packing and shipping and everything was tickety-boo but as always in India I had to supress my fear about it all ending terribly and trust in her chaotic way-of-being to carry my sovereign souvenir back to the security of Cheshire.

Oooh dapper in Udaipur

The Marwari is a beautiful Indian horse, the first of which I met properly at Camp Zainabad in Gujarat.  Marwaris are warmbloods (like a Thoroughbred to the less initiated) descended from far eastern horses with, surely a spot of Arab mixed in there along the way.  They have insanely curly ears, lovely paces and come in lots of beautiful colours.  They are also a delight to ride as I discovered at Krishna Ranch which is in the hills outside Udaipur keeps a beautiful collection of them in fabulous condition.  The ranch is run by the amicable Dinesh and Francine who also owned the exceptional little hotel where I was staying in town.  Hotel Kumbha Palace nestles in the offshore shadow of the City Palace which I photographed in my last post.  I was so comfortable there with the Langur monkey neighbours, the great Dane and the delicious food that having to leave for the Taj Mahal became a most reluctant departure!

The line on the left was my window frame!

A nice spot for a morning ride

My relaxing time in Udaipur continued and having spent two evenings on the roof soaking up the atmosphere of "wedding season" with the lovely Alex from Hampshire, I met Matt and Dan from London at Sashi's excellent cookery class and then lovely Bronwen from Bristol.

One happy teacher and pupil ...thanks Sashi!

It was with Bronwen (who has an excellent Blog) that I donned a little slap and my limited finery and entered the city palace grounds for sunset G&Ts at one of the most splendid hotels I have ever seen.  It was wonderful to be waited on in such style and opulent surroundings whilst we swapped our travel stories ...including the one about Bronwen's night as the accidental passenger in the 1st class carriage reserved for the Minister of Defense for India!! It was nice to know that before curling up on his bunk, he introduced himself and apologised for the ferocious platoon of gun wielding bodyguards that rudely awoke her prior to his boarding!!

*you might remember the shampoo advert with two backpacker girls and the luxury eastern hotel where they quickly washed their hair in the fountain outside to gain admission? ...It came back to me as we crossed the threshold of the ornate and guarded palace gates!

Picture Perfect Palace

 

The source of all of the crap on the pavement...

I snapped this photo out of bedroom window yesterday and it reminded me of one of my favourite posts of the trip... Monkeys - A Sociological Study 

Peace on the Tropic of Cancer

For a peaceful and contemplative day out, I headed Becharaji Temple where I meditated, prayed (it seems to be working ...you know who you are xx) and sat with lots of lovely Bajan singing ladies before stumbling across the Tropic of Cancer on my way to Modhera Sun Temple where I looked for Indiana Jones but he was nowhere to be seen.

(these will look much better if you double click them!)

The boy in the lassi shop

You are pristine,

a newly formed adult,

whose family, teachers and friends

worked hard to prepare.

You are confident,

you set yourself on the block,

and made a strong start

whilst they watched with pride.

You are not lost,

You gathered acedemia’s fruit

and plan to conquer commerce

what else is there to know?

But your wave won’t crest forever.

Adult choices forge changes.

You have become your own dice

but it’s still just snakes and ladders.

A Ranntastic Safari!

Little Rann is a vast salt plain in the middle of (my now beloved) Gujarat which is the only home of the Indian Wild Ass or Khur.  These ancient equines live like Zebra on the fascinating 5000 square kilometer Rann keeping company with flamingos and wild cows!  Yes the Indian Nilgai (formerly known on this blog as the “wild cow”) resides here in great number and I have photographed the female of the species especially for Danny (who would love it here and take better photos!) and of course ...Mica the Finn!

Around the fringes of the not-so-Little Rann are fascinating largely livestock-herding villages where we were welcomed in to homes for chai, smiled a lot and dropped in on what I believe was a hair-cutting ceremony for a small boy dressed as Michael Jackson.  Odd as it was, by all accounts, the dancing was a rare treat to witness and my driver particularly rated the lady in the red sari…

(sorry, I waited 2.5 hours ...must rememeber

that this site does not upload videos

 no matter how hard I will it to)

In addition to the diverse wildlife and the huge domestic flocks/herds that this stark terrain supports; semi-nomadic groups set up villages on the flats during the dry months and workintensely as a team to produce container loads of bright-white salt from the ground water which is sold as far away as China.

On the salt flats we were invited for delicious and light black tea and I was particularly impressed by our host's pristine mud-floor kitchen which was just beside the satellite dish …they do everything from TV to mobiles using solar but still cook on open fires …you’ve got to love those Indian contrasts!

My super safaris were with Desert Coursers, an outfit that don’t half feed you well (probably the last thing I need right now!) out of their marvelous Camp Zainabad where I am staying in a luxury mud-built cottage complete with dressing room and Bathroom.  I am on my own here with the affable staff as their benevolent boss, Danraj is away with his family.  Despite this, Danraj has been calling to ensure all is well and I had a lovely evening with his horse, Dalmatian and pack of Salukis before sitting down to an engaging and relaxing conversation with his mum and her Labrador pups! …Thank you Danraj for your kindness and the dose of pets and parents which has diluted my pangs for home!