The trip out of Jodhpur

Having been to Jodhpur a few years ago, I was truly looking forward to revisiting what is (in my opinion) one of the most interesting and travel-friendly cities in India... Before leaving Jaisalmer, I contacted Manesh (the owner of the guesthouse where I had stayed during my last visit) by email and booked a room... Manesh was waiting for us on the platform when we stepped off the train at Jodhpur station, and he greeted me with a big hug and such genuine friendliness that I was a bit shocked... I guess just a bit surprised that he even remembered me at all. Since I last saw him he had been totally renovating his hotel, the Blue House, a quiet guesthouse smack in the middle of Jodhpur's old blue-painted city. Our lovely room was decked out in carved sandstone (imported from Jaisalmer) and came complete with a private balcony, cable television and even an air conditioner... finally! We were so happy to have such luxurious surroundings (and cold air blowing on us) that we spent a few afternoons just lounging around the room.

Jodhpur's main attraction is the stunning Mehrangarh fort and we were blessed with a cool, cloudy afternoon to explore the fort, relatively free from other tourists... Coming home was now feeling more like a reality and we both were honestly relieved to know that London was only a few short days away. During our stay in Jodhpur, we shopped for saris for our Moms, hung out at the corner juice bar, jockied for a place in the queue at the post office, and prepared our bags for the final journey back to Delhi.

We boarded the train Saturday night, excited to be finally on our way... Like so many times before, we hustled past the crowds on the platform, boarded the train and found our seats, only to find them occupied by a large family traveling together... After a few confusing minutes, we found a conductor who quickly glanced at our tickets, tossed them back at me, and informed us that these tickets were no longer valid: they were for last night's train. Unsure of the date, we asked another conductor on the platform and realized that we had indeed missed our train the night before, and tonight's train was completely sold out. Rather than facing yet another terrible queue at the booking counters, we headed back to Manesh's guesthouse and presented him with our problem. As it turns out, seasonal floods were raging through Rajasthan. The dark clouds and monsoonal rains had caused massive delays and cancellations on the trains due to the tracks being washed out. Not sure whether or not to actually believe what we were being told (lying to tourists is a form of sport in India), we decided to just spend another night at the Blue House and figure out what to do in the morning.

At about midnight, I left a sleeping Paul to sneak downstairs and find Manesh. He was watching television, which was broadcasting images of washed out roads, flooded villages, and trains at a standstill in several feet of water... the monsoons had truly arrived in Rajasthan with disastrous effect. Manesh informed me that the night train from Jodhpur to Delhi hadn't made even made it 100 miles outside of town and was now stuck somewhere west of Jaipur. Faced with the need to make a very quick decision, I decided to finally trust Manesh and let him try to sort out our travel troubles. He switched the television channel to "Indian Idol," which was gut-bustingly hilarious to us both, and then proceed to call around town in an attempt to find us bus tickets to Delhi for following next morning. What he discovered was that every regularly scheduled bus was now completely sold out, due to train travel being cancelled throughout most of the region. After an hour or so, he suggested instead hiring a private car to drive us the 400+ miles back to Delhi, and since I was worried sick about missing our flight home, I soon decided this was the only option... or the only option that was presenting itself sitting in the dim light of Manesh's living room at 1am.

Manesh arranged for a sleepy-eyed, pyjama-clad money changer to come to the Blue House to help me cash yet another traveler's cheque, and by 2am, it was a done deal: a car would meet us at the hotel at 5am to make the 12-hour journey to Delhi. I crept upstairs to our room and caught about 3 hours of sleep before sneaking out of the guesthouse just before dawn. A small man chewing red betel nut was waiting for us next to his rusted out white Fiat sedan. We set off towards the rising sun and just about an hour outside of town, things were starting to look up for us. We had managed to make it out of Jodhpur and the idea of possibly being scammed for a few more bucks didn't seem to make much difference to either of us anymore.

Just as we sat back to enjoy the long ride, we were forced to a stop by a huge military blockade crossing the motorway. A young man in an army uniform approached the car and had a rather heated exchange with our driver; our driver told us in broken English that the main bridge was closed, as the river had burst its banks and had flooded the highway on the other side. He told us that the only chance to make it to Delhi was to take an additional 4-hour long detour, heading much further north to cross the river at another point. He then started feverishly encouraging us to return to Jodhpur and wait until the flooding has subsided... we simply weren't having it. We were both absolutely frantic to get the hell out of India once and for all and insisted that he take us to Delhi that very minute. I told him to quit wasting time and step on the accelerator. None of us were pleased with our forced detour, least of all our driver: he decided at that moment that we were not nice people and spent the rest of the 16 hour trip trying to ignore us.

We stopped only twice during the journey, one of the longest of my life... we were both purposely drinking as little as possible to prevent the need to make additional stops along the way. Once we arrived on the outskirts of Delhi, our driver acted as though he had NO IDEA where we were going and then reluctantly admitted to us that he had never even been to Delhi before and wasn't sure how to find our hotel. Soon, we found ourselves asking pedestrians walking along the side of the road how to find the city centre, and after quite a bit of asking, a professional older man with a briefcase said that he was going that direction and offered to give us directions in exchange for a ride. After about another hour of gridlock and chaos, we finally arrived at Old Delhi train station, right across the road from our hotel in the Paraganj market. Our driver took this opportunity to become really mopey and tell us that he would have to spend the night in his car and wouldn't set off back to Jodhpur until the morning... He kept insisting that we pay him an additional 1000 rupees for his trouble and to get a room for the night (when our own room for the night was only 600 rupees). Paul and I silently exchanged looks with each other in complete agreement that he wasn't getting another damn cent out of us, and while the driver was poking around in the car looking for something, we grabbed our stuff and disappeared into the crowd.

Having made a clean escape, we checked into our hotel, repacked once again (dumping all unnecessary items no longer required once back in England) and caught another 3 or 4 hours sleep before having to leave for the airport... We were both totally exhausted by the time we boarded our flight, glad to have made it out of India and to be finally be heading home. The end of our trip around the world wasn't exactly like we had envisioned it, but then again, what is?

I think it will take a few months of being back home to fully grasp the enormity of our year long adventure and regardless of the challenges that we now face getting our lives back together, it has always seemed worth it. Our relationship is stronger than ever, adding truth to the old cliche "what doesn't kill us makes us stronger."

Next Entry: The Epilogue

Jaisalmer: On the Edge

One thing in India that seems to actually work properly is the train system, generally running with surprising efficiency. Although most of the trains are completely run down and the stations a heaving mess of humanity and livestock (and the subsequent filth produced by the two living so closely together), there was a calming sense of relief for me during our overnight train journeys: a brief respite from the chaos and craziness that seemed to surround us during our every move. The uniformed cabin attendants work with dignified pride, dishing out blankets, cold beer, and bottled water while middle-class passengers sit in (relative) air-conditioned comfort. We made the uneventful overnight journey from Delhi to Jaisalmer in just under 20 hours, and managed to make a friend along the way: Miko, a Japanese guy from Yokohama who was taking a year off from his executive desk job to travel around Asia.

Having already made a reservation at the Desert Boys guest house, we were met by our driver (and joined by Miko, who hadn't booked anything in advance) and taken directly to the Jaisalmer fort, which dominates the town... This place is unlike anything I have ever seen and undoubtedly deserves it's UNESCO listing as one of India's most treasured heritage sites... The people of Jaisalmer have lived inside the fort since the mid-1400's, when it's construction was started by one of the Mughal kings of the time... Intricately carved almost entirely out of limestone, it has to be seen to be believed: like something from an Arabian fairy tale. India, and in particular Rajasthan, is littered with forts from the same era, but Jaisalmer stands out as one of the very best: it stands perched at the top of a massive hillside, looking westward towards the Pakistani border, only 80km away, over an expanse of scrubby trees and sand dunes. At sunset, the view from the top of the fort is nothing short of sheer magic. From that back of our driver's rusting Jeep, our first view of the fort was met with gasps from all three of us.

We met the super friendly owner of the guest house who immediately offered us cold bottles of Coke and fizzy water, and we retreated to the darkest, innermost rooms of the building... the coolest place to sit and chat. The temperatures outside were nearing 46C/115F degrees and just the ride from the train station to the guest house left me in sort of a daze. Our room, which we were guaranteed would be air-conditioned, was actually "air-cooled" - a term I have never heard outside India. An air-cooler is simply a metal box containing a fan and a shallow pan of water: the fan blows air across the cold water to create a cool breeze... although the water wasn't cold and the air cooler felt more like a hair dryer. The staff at the hotel rushed around in a frenzy to try and accommodate us and make us more comfortable, but the fact of the matter was that the heat wasn't going to go away and nothing short of an air-conditioner was going to change the situation. The temperature in our room was absolutely sweltering; I cannot describe exactly how hot it felt to us at that moment. This was a theme to be repeated over and over again during the next 6 days in Jaisalmer: completely drowsy from heat stroke and exhausted by the efforts of everyone around us to sell something or provide some sort of unnecessary and unwanted service.

No trip to Jaisalmer would be complete without the obligatory "camel safari," a day long or overnight trip out to the sand dunes to ride camels and visit local villages. Although challenging due to the heat, this was one of the highlights of our entire time in India. We convinced Miko to come with us for the day, and including the English couple whom we spotted eating (and complaining about the food) at the same restaurant the previous evening, there were just 5 of us. Our driver was a fat, funny man who insisted his name was "Lemon Soda;" he quickly rounded us up into his Jeep for a long ride due west, straight into the heart of the desert.

We drove off-road a few times (although the road was little more than a dirt track), across the scrub of the desert, until we arrived at a tiny Muslim village in the absolute middle of nowhere. The villagers all came out to meet us, and it was apparent that Lemon Soda knew these people well and spoke their language (which was not Hindi). They were also incredibly friendly, which is not to be said about all Indians. They apparently did not want anything from us and made no attempts to ask for money, shine our shoes, sell us CDs, or lure us into a taxi. This was one of the most satisfying (and least voyeuristic) experiences I have ever had visiting "the locals" anywhere in the world and certainly wish that we would have had more time to spend with these lovely people. Their homes were adobe-style domes, constructed of camel dung and sticks, with a fire pit in the center. I couldn't believe how welcoming they were, inviting us inside to check it out. Wonderful!

After visiting three similar villages, we met up with several guys who were leading 5 camels towards us, which I correctly assumed were for us to ride. No real problems here and I was pleasantly surprised at how clean and manageable my camel was: I had imagined a flea-bitten, aggressive camel who would spit at me and run off into the distance... but as luck would have it, we actually got along quite well. We rode for about two hours (which is plenty, believe me) and then stopped while the guys prepared some dinner over an open fire... Our little group chilled on a large rug spread across the sand, watched the sun set, and enjoyed dahl and rice with roasted black cumin seeds... delicious!

Next time: Escaping Jodhpur x more soon! Jason