Two Days in Jaipur

Jaipur is the capital of Rajasthan--the land of the Rajputs. Warrior clans who originated from the sun, moon, and fire. Proud ancient peoples who would rather die than surrender. Majestic rulers ornamented in fine silk robes, jewels, shimmering turbans, with swords, knives, and elephants. A land complete with fortresses, palaces, harems, and all the myth and magic of India.

 

In fact, when you think of India, you're probably thinking of Jaipur. A red (so-called pink) city, painted with ornamental designs, structured with bedazzling buildings, and walled off by enormous stone fortress walls. Camels rest along the street in the midday sun, elephants saunter down shaded pathways, and cobras are sung to life by snake charmers with flutes.

 

This was India's first planned city, created by the Rajput warrior-astronomer Jai Singh II, who came to power at age 11. Well built streets, cordoned off blocks, and tall, orderly buildings shape the landscape.

 

After leaving Delhi at 6 am, we finally fly over this new land around 9. I'm impressed by how organized everything appears to be. Even though the land is dry and sandy, it is still beautiful--filled with desert enchantment. As soon as we leave the tiny airport, we can tell the air is different. Cleaner, brighter. The streets are wider. There is less honking. Traffic is better directed.

 

The walls of streets and buildings are painted with Jaipur's history. The heat swelters in---this truly is the land of the sun. We arrive at our hotel by 10:30 or so. A small clean room painted with elephants. We immediately visit the upstairs open-air restaurant---a tropical place with palm trees, peacock statues, and a stunning view of Hathroi Fort. As we order our food (a veggie burger and enchilada) we read over the tourist handbook they've given us. It is then that we realize we have the wrong hotel! We had booked the Pearl Palace Heritage, but we've arrived at the owner's other hotel, the Pearl Palace Hotel. We were expecting themed rooms and a different atmosphere. No wonder they didn't have our booking downstairs, and no wonder we're confused! We contemplate whether we should just stay in our room or move to our expected hotel. Finally, we decide to just ask.

 

After our meal, we head to the front desk to ask about a change. He tells us to go look at the other hotel, and we can switch--no problem. We take a free autorickshaw about a block away, and immediately, we make our choice. The outside of the Pearl Palace Heritage is glamorous. A tall, stone archway frames the large wooden front door. We walk inside to intricately painted black and white walls which illuminate framed paintings of famous Jaipuri rulers. Carved elephant statutes grace the lobby. We are stunned.

 

 

As we walk up the marble stairs we see the walls, which are made from stone and depict rows of immaculate carvings. Rows of Ganeshes, Buddhas, Shivas, and more frame our walk to the room. Tables rest against walls stacked with books for travelers to indulge in.

 

They show us or room---the "Indus Valley" room, an homage to largest known ancient civilization. It is enormous! Two full rooms with immaculately carved wooden tables, handmade clay pot lamps hanging from the ceiling, red Indus-style tribal paintings on the wall, a tall bed, white robes in the bathroom, and a computer in the corner make up our suite. This is heavenly. We bring our luggage over and settle in over two fresh glasses of cold mango juice. We rest for a while, then head out to do a walking tour of the Old Pink City.

 

Enormous painted gateways frame the entrance of this part of the city. Everything is painted a beautiful burnt sienna color---the "pink" of happiness and hospitality. The large gateways are ornamented with painted flowering white vines and outlined arches. The city is named the Pink City because in 1876 the Maharaja Ram Singh had the entire city painted "pink" to welcome the Prince of Wales to Jaipur. Today, the government mandates that shops and houses here maintain the pink façade.

 

However, the city itself is now a chaotic hub of bazaars, shops, and restaurant stalls. Hawkers are everywhere, throwing themselves at you and following you endlessly down the street. The tireless chant of  "m'am, m'am, madam, m'am, m'am, m'am" echoes behind us as we walk on. The variety of goods is overwhelming. Hand-carved wooden dolls, cloth of all assortments and patterns, sparkling jewels, long jingly bells with painted wooden elephants attached to them, and more. The scent of incense, cows, samosas, and wet streets fills the air.

 

We stop in several shops, shopping for linen for men's suits. It takes us some time to find a man who directs us the "gents" section of town. We find the perfect fabrics, and move on. Later, we stop in a jewelry store and peruse the freshly hand-made items. A man sits on the floor, still working on several pairs of earrings and necklaces. We haggle and bargain our way into some good finds.

 

As the day passes into night, we realize that we are tired and hungry. We need food and beer. We look through our India book and find a place called Red's that sounds perfect. However, after arriving in the mall it's supposedly located in, we find nothing. In fact, the entire mall is grungy, dark, and half-way closed down. We move down the street to a nice, more upscale looking shopping center. Here we find an amazing Italian restaurant, owned by a man from Italy. We eat fine pasta and get a recommendation for a good bar--Niro's, which has been open since 1949. It is just around the corner, and we walk there in the hot Jaipuri night, passing by a beautiful cinema and McDonald's on our way there.

 

Niro's is elegant. A small, white-walled place covered in mirrors. I can picture it in 1949, with classical Hindi music emanating from its speakers and men in freshly tailored suits smoking cigars and talking politics over their fine scotch. Today, many Indian families are celebrating the evening here. We order a small bottle of wine and a large Kingfisher. After we finish, we head back out into the night. Bright lights fill the street and the air is buzzing with a festival energy. More food carts have made their way out and crafters line the streets, their wares displayed on thin sheets draped across the stone sidewalks.

 

Several rickshaw drivers besiege us, and one artist attempts to get us to visit his store. However, we're able to use the number of people around us as a good bargaining tactic, and get a good rate on the ride back to our hotel. We arrive, still stunned by the elegance and beauty of the hotel. After a while, we fall asleep on the amazing bed and sleep well until the morning. For the next day we have a city tour booked.

 

 

We wake up early at 6:30 am to get ready. Our driver will be waiting at 8:30. The Peacock Restaurant (located atop the other hotel) opens at 8—just enough time to scrape by with some breakfast. We take the free autorickshaw over and eat (I order a banana and honey “pancake”—more of a crepe, really). Our driver arrives at the Heritage hotel, but they have him pick us up outside the restaurant. He introduces himself as Raj and we head off into the brightening morning.

Our first stop is the massive Amber Fort outside of town. It is pronounced Amer, and was financed by the spoils of war under Maharaja Man Singh in 1592. On our way there we briefly stop outside of Hawa Mahal, a honeycombed structure rising above the Old Pink City. It is painted with intricate white decorations and rests between two shopping bazaars. Hawa Mahal was built in 1799 by Maharaja Sawai Pratap Singh so that royal women could look out over the city, without being seen. We head on to Amber Fort. It is a palace, rising above the Jaipuri landscape, built into the surrounding hills. Yellow and pink sandstone, adorned with white marble, make up this majestic place. Immense gardens, set apart in small lakes, rest under the shadow of the main structure. We stop along the road to take in the view.

Immediately, a humongous elephant ambles up to us—her face painted with pink and yellow designs. The rider atop her graceful, large head jumps to the ground. We think they are going to stop at the road—about 10 feet or so from us. Even from this distance we are in awe. The elephant’s gentle eyes and long flowing trunk frame her beautiful face.  She keeps walking. In less than a minute she is standing above us, her body towering over us, her trunk in the air over our heads.  “Do you want to touch? Go ahead, touch!” the elephant rider urges us.  Cindy and I step back—amazed by the grace and power of this stunning creature. The rider takes our hands and puts them on her face.

She stands still—a sign that she does not spend her days shackled to a wall. She looks incredibly healthy, her skin shimmering in the sun. Her ears are spotted gray and pink and her eyes are deep amber, framed by long, glistening lashes. We gently touch her face and her trunk. She nudges toward us. We step back again. “No, no! Is okay!” the rider insists. We pet her long trunk again. He reaches for my camera “I’ll take a photo!” he eagerly says and steps a few feet away, leaving Cindy and I alone with the animal. The elephant clearly senses our discomfort, and takes advantage of her freedom. She sticks her trunk deep into her mouth, and then sprays herself—over our heads—with her saliva. She shakes her head slightly. She then begins to wander this way and that, as Cindy and I give her free reign to do as she wishes. The rider, laughing slightly comes back “okay, okay, one photo at a time.” He hands me the camera, and puts his arm around the elephant’s trunk. He says her name—which I miss—and tells her to stand still. She stops moving about and stands with Cindy for a picture. The rider tells her to salute, and she immediately sticks her trunk up into the air and lifts her right foot up—a picture perfect pose. We laugh with joy, and in the next picture the elephant appears to be laughing too---her mouth wide open and her trunk flailing in the air. Then it is my turn. I slowly walk up to her, and gently put my hand on her cheek. She leans into it and waves her ears in the air. The rider tells her to salute again, and instantly she does. I take a few pictures this way and we tip the rider and head back to the car, completely awed and amazed.

Before we make it to the car, though, we discover that a man has positioned himself on the sidewalk right behind us. He places a basket on the ground in front of him and begins playing a large wooden flute-like instrument. A cobra arises out of the basket on queue. I believe I am dreaming and there is no way this is actually real life. But it is. The cobra dances for a second, and then lazily slithers back down into her basket.

“Aww, Juli, come come!” the cobra enchanter beckons to the snake. She lifts up slightly and slides to his arm. He holds her up and offers her to Cindy and me. “Touch, touch!” he insists. I, of course, back away several steps. “No, no, she is not poisonous, she will not bite” he offers. I am not convinced. This is a freaking cobra! Cindy, clearly giddy with excitement, reaches forward to touch Juli the cobra. Juli slithers toward her hand and flicks out her thin, pink tongue. “Sit, sit! Hold her!” the man urges. Cindy eases herself to the sidewalk and sits. The man places Juli around her neck, and Juli lazily slides around Cindy’s arm as I snap photos. After Cindy holds her, the man offers her to me. I look nervously at Cindy, who is laughing and telling me to go on. I sit rigidly on the sidewalk.

The man places Juli around my neck and she instantly calms me. Her silky, black skin smooth on my neck and arm. She is at ease and peacefully slithers around my body. She turns her small snake head to look at me, with her cobra flap fully opened. She seems disinterested and continues down my hand. Once again, I am awestruck. This powerful creature, so gentle, graceful, and elegant, is enjoying the universe from the resting point of my hand. “Okay, come Juli” the man says, and places his arm out for her to slither to. She returns to her basket and coils up for a nap. We tip the man and get back in our car to finish our journey to the fort.

About a mile away, we stop at the gates of Amber Fort. Our driver shows us where he will be waiting and tells us to take our time. We enter the gate---a small sandstone archway that opens on a small corridor. We walk inside and are immediately inundated by hawkers. “Where are you from? Do you want art? No, look through. Best price. Do you want an elephant—hand carved! Best price,” the voices cry from all sides. We lower our eyes and push through to the second gate—a larger, red sandstone archway.  This one opens to marble floors and leads to a walkway that initiates the long haul up the hill. To our right we see people riding elephants up a different path, and we decide to head that way. We are followed by a few hawkers selling blankets as we walk. They continually offer us lower and lower prices, and we try not to encourage them. We make it to area where elephant rides are being offered as alternative transportation up the hill to the fort. Riders rest lethargically atop beautiful, decorated elephant heads. Most of the elephants look well cared for. Some munch on hay, while others doze in the shade. A couple of elephants exhibit the tell-tale front and back sway of confined and chained quarters. We definitely do not want to support these owners.

We head to the stairs where you settle into the large seat that serves as an elephant saddle. A large, striking elephant awaits us there. We carefully ease onto her back and pay our “driver” the somewhat expensive 900 rupees for the ride. It is definitely worth it. The elephant slowly saunters up the large hill, her back swaying as we go. We have pristine views of the surrounding hills and gardens. It would be peaceful, save for the hawkers who continue to harass us as we ride. Still with the blankets! We tell them no several times, followed by “maybe later.” This is a bad response—one of the hawkers, a young boy, immediately begins proclaiming “but madam, look! The elephants are emp-e-tey! See! Emp-e-tey! You must buy now!” The blankets are beautiful, but overpriced (of course). Finally, they get to a price reasonable enough for us to consider. We give them man the 70 rupees he has lowered his offer to and he throws up the blankets. After a few seconds deliberation he returns “m’am, it is 70 U.S. DOLLARS!” He had clearly said rupees earlier. Seventy dollars is absolutely ludicrous. We tell him no, give us back our money. But he decides to start making offers again. He never reaches anything reasonable, and we hold onto the blankets to return to him when we dismount. When we arrive at the third gate—an even larger red sandstone archway—the elephant “driver” begins silently asking us for a tip. “Police do not like it, so you have to now” he tells us. However, there are signs hung everywhere that clearly say “do not tip the elephant driver.” We tell him we’ll get in trouble, and he takes his time to the dismount station. The elephant slowly ambles around the courtyard, with us swaying atop her the whole time. We finally dismount, and get our rupees back for the overpriced blankets.

We stand confused for a moment, but are greeted by a man who leads us to the ticket counter. Immediately he offers us guide services, which we refuse. We head up to the main entrance of Amber Fort, finally away from the hawkers.

The main courtyard is beautiful. To one side are views of what must have been the rulers’ entire kingdom---all the way to the high stone walls separating the hillsides. The floors are marble, and in the back of the courtyard sets a large red sandstone open-air forum. It has intricately carved elephant heads, flowers, and other decorations covering tall pillars that rise into the air. The gateway to the actual palace, to the right of forum, is an enormous structure of yellow sandstone, painted with elaborate blue, white, and pink designs. A full flight of stairs rises to the gate entrance. After walking around the first courtyard, we finally head inside to a maze of staircases and hallways. We come out to the first floor, a beautiful garden enclave, complete with a shimmering pool, pristine white marble corridors, and a cool breeze. The hall is framed by elegant archways, and to the left is a beautiful structure covered in mirrors and silver. You can almost hear the ghosts of maharajahs past as you walk the cool halls.  We go to the next floor—open-air hallways that surround the interior of the palace. There are four viewing points, towering over the sides of the fortress. We stop at the two open ones and peer out of the carved windows. We head back down into the maze of hallways and corridors and explore several narrow, dark pathways. One leads us to a third floor, where a resting janitor shows us the wives’ chambers. The first of which is an elegantly painted dome, cool and shadowy. Outside of the viewing room attached to this chamber I see the largest hive of bees I’ve ever come across. It drapes down from a protruding structure, and black and yellow wasps swarm around it.

We head on, adventuring to the other side of the third floor, which contains more wives’ chambers. Sitting atop a large domed protrusion, we see several silver monkeys resting. Two comb each other, while a third sits at the very top of the dome, his head resting on his hand as he looks over the endless landscape. We find a set of stairs and head back down, finally deciding to leave the majestic fort.  As we wind our way to the exit, we are once again besieged by hawkers. However, two are holding photos that were taken of us riding the elephant up to the fort entrance. This may be worth buying. I also find it very interesting that they are somehow able to find us, despite the throngs of people flowing in and out of the fort. We purchase the three pictures at 50 rupees (down from their original asking price of 300). We make the long trek down the hillside stairs, past the multitudes of hawkers, and finally back to our driver.

By this point we are burning hot and our skin glistens with sweat. We are tired and hungry, but read that there is a restaurant at the next stop—Nahargarh. This is a remote fort, built in 1734 to house soldiers and protect the royal family. It is up a silent hill, outlined by tall, wiry trees. The fort itself is almost desolate. A languid security guard takes our ticket (purchased as  part of a composite ticket at Amber Fort), and we enter the yellow structure. We first come across soldier’s quarters—hollowed out, but somehow elegant, hallways with barren rooms and open-air courtyards.  On our way to the main entrance, we are stopped by some Indian tourists who want to take their picture with us (we, the ever-strange and curious pale white foreigners). The actual fort is hidden inside of an arched gateway, and opens onto a marble-floored square. The walls are decorated with vibrant paintings of elephants and maharajahs. We enter a side door and find the old kitchen space, supply room, and even queen’s quarters. The most stunning thing about this fort is the incredible view over the city. Every window seems to be placed atop a mountain, with no trees or buildings obstructing its sight. We head to the top floor and walk around the narrow hallway bordering the structure. Every few feet are colorfully painted enclaves, housing closed off quarters for the queen and her servants. Some are painted a bright blue, while others are pink or yellow. Each has beautiful decorations and intricate designs.  We are followed for some time by a young security guard, who tries to get us to go here or there as he half-way explains the history of the structure, until we make it clear we aren’t going to tip him (once again, signs declare that no extra money is to be paid to any staff inside the premises). After, he wanders off aimlessly, I suppose back to the guard station where he emerged from.

After perusing the top floor, we meander back out of the entrance, and head toward the restaurant. Following a sign that points to the top of the hill, we are stopped by a brigade of curious security guards. They all shake our hands and introduce themselves excitedly. They ask us where we’re going and then tell us that the restaurant is closed. We sigh, defeated, and head back toward the car. As we pass the restaurant sign we see that it opens at 5:30 pm---a good hour after the fort itself has closed.

We tell our driver we need to stop and eat—preferably at a place that has beer. He acknowledges our request and heads down the hill, back toward the city below.  On our way we stop at an overlook to take in the sight of the Water Palace—an enormous marble palace that sits atop a giant lake in Jaipur. It is built partially underwater, but apparently is waterproof. It was a retreat for the ancient royal families, and I’m sure it afforded a great deal of protection and cool air. Unfortunately, there is no visitation to the Water Palace, but we were still able to get a great view of its exquisite structure.

We head across the street to an Mughali/Indian restaurant and sit upstairs under the cool air conditioning. I order Pindi Channa Masala—a Jaipuri spin on the popular chickpea curry, and Cindy orders rice with vegetables. I also purchase a refreshing Kingfisher to down my meal with. On the wall next to our table are old paintings of former Jaipuri rulers. The painting closest to my shoulder is from 1873. The fabric looks old, but the paint is still vibrant. Above my head the still eyes of a royally clothed ruler stare stoically into the distance.

After eating we continue on our journey. Our driver takes us to the Royal Gaitor, a beautiful set of marble buildings hidden beneath the hills. No one else is here, save for a few Indian men sitting on the stone steps near a temple inside. Trees shade most of the structure. As we enter, a man charges us 30 rupees each, and we are given free rein to wander where we please. The each building is made from beautiful aged white Italian marble, with detailed carvings of elephants, flowers, gods, and goddesses. Birds fly overhead and monkeys whistle in the distance. The men sitting near the temple give us curious looks, but mostly ignore us as we walk past. In the third building, we find a secret stairwell that leads to a ledge on top of the structure. We wander around for a minute, taking in the surrounding scenery and elegant domes breaking the skyscape. It is peaceful, cool, and quiet here. We spend some time wandering in and out of the carvings before heading out.

Next, we drive back into the city, where we visit the City Palace, an enormous structure built in 1729 by Jai Singh II. It is a more modern palace---an enormous structure with large domes, painted walls, and shaded interior corridors. Along the walls are paintings of maharajahs playing polo with English royalty. After passing the armory museum in the main courtyard, we enter a second gate and come upon a majestic pink sandstone courtyard.  Enormous, sparkling chandeliers hang from the ceiling. Two large silver pots, protected by glass, sit to either side of the courtyard. We read plaques that explain that the pots are the largest pieces of complete silver in the world. On the walls behind us a sun design is spiraled behind a glass encasing, made from iron rifles and swords.  After wandering about this elegant structure, we head to a shaded corridor and enter an office area. In the center of this building are carved wood doors, framed by elegant silver painted designs. One showcases Shiva, another peacocks. The flooring here is of white marble. We meander around for a bit, and the City Palace official attorney meets us in the hall. He tells us who he is, and that he used to be a judge. He lets us go to the center of the open courtyard, and we take pictures under the gorgeous doors.  We meander back out to the central courtyard and find our way to the exit; next, we head across the street to Jantar Mantar.

The warrior-astronomer Jai Singh II was fascinated with science. To observe the planets, time, and earth’s universal alignment, he built enormous measuring instruments. These are all housed in Jantar Mantar---a collection of Singh’s great scientific feats. Upon entering the front gate, we walk immediately upon a circle with two cross-sections within it. Next to it, across a small pathway, are two enormous circles—one depicting the earth and another, the universe.  In the distance a huge, sloping building keeps time via shadows and light. Another section of the exhibit showcases astrological signs, aligned under their respective stars. I find my Aries sign—complete with my signature ram’s horns---and take several pictures. After ambling through this wondrous exhibit, we

Our tour has ended, and we drive back to our hotel. We make arrangements for the driver to pick us up at 5 am the next morning to catch our early flight. We retreat into the elegant peace of our hotel, and rest for a while before going to the Peacock Restaurant for dinner.

On the rooftop balcony, they have small white lights framing the statues and flowers, and water mists us from overhead. We have a couple of drinks, eat our light dinners and head back to our hotel for the night. Tomorrow we wake up early---4 am—and head further south to the cosmopolitan city of Mumbai.

 

Until then,

 

Namaste.