Compressed as our visit to Jaipur was, it's among my top five travel experiences. The cloudless weather and short-sleeves temperature helped.
En route to the Amber Fort, Nidhi, our guide, asked how many of us would be arriving by elephant, a big part of the experience. Although she assured us that the animals' owners treated them like members of the family because they were huge money earners, I decided to walk and take pictures. Here's everybody about to board from the loading platform, in pairs.
And here are the elephants and their drivers.
Some of them even wear make-up.
It takes about 15 minutes to make the trip up the steep hill. The elephants aren't allowed to make more than five trips per day. Look for their red robes along the bottom of this picture.
Here's the view of the other direction from the walk up. You can see the loading platform at the bottom left and the mountain wall that has successfully protected the fort from invaders for centuries.
Thom & Dan enjoyed their ride.
There's video, too.
I swear this pachyderm is smiling--do you think it might be his last trip of the day? I used to think elephants were kind of ugly and those nosy trunks scared me a bit. No longer!
The elephants enter the fort through the Sun Gate.
Despite her occasionally impenetrable accent, Nidhi proved to be a pretty good guide. Two basic principles guided the construction of the fort: provide maximum relief from the weather, and keep the women, whether they be queens or concubines, from view.
Many decorative motifs caught my eye, although I suspect they have been touched up over the centuries.
In case there were any doubts, porn has been around forever.
There were plenty of opportunities for more wholesome portraits. Here are Matthew and Chris:
Steven & Andrew:
And me in the royal bathtub:
Dan says this guard looks like he could be a National Geographic cover boy.
These Muslim girls were a little shy.
Here's the view behind the grillwork.
Jeeps, not elephants, took us to our next stop, a Hindu temple. En route, a couple of guys passed us with smiles on a motor scooter.
Here we are at the entrance of the temple.
Elephants flanked the gate. None managed to keep their tusks.
Shivas are almost as common as elephants.
Inside we found a brahmin, the 22nd generation in his family to serve this particular temple. Nidhi, having drunk the democracy kool aid, insisted that caste doesn't matter any more, but clearly it does. Frankly, I think I would rather be an untouchable, sweeping the streets out of doors than being cooped inside offering blessings.
A pilgrim took a liking to Andrew.
Just beyond the temple, a mother bathed her child in the street.
Here's George at the first of many tourist traps where we were forced to take our lunch. None of us ever want to see a chafing dish again.
One of the maharajahs of Rajasthan had a big thing for astronomy. He built Jantar Mantar, a park with many devices to chart the orbits of the sun and moon. This has got to be one of the world's biggest sundials.
Can't remember what this bowl is for, but I liked the way it looked.
This stern little guy was posing for his father. Quite an outfit, huh?
Steven probably paid the closest attention to Nidhi who, by this time, had gotten on nearly everybody's nerves by simply doing her job. She insisted on explaining the function of all 17 astrological devices, one by one.
Jaipur is known as "The Pink City." You can see why at the City Palace where monkeys roam freely.
Peacock motifs abound.
See them perched on top of the royal balcony? We saw more than a few of the national birds running wild in fields along the road.
You'll find the world's two largest silver containers at the City Palace. When Edward VII invited one of India's most pious maharajahs to his 1901 coronation in London, the maharajah commissioned three of these urns to carry water (4,000 liters each) from the Ganges River. He and his entourage used the holy water to bathe and to cook their food because they didn't trust the English water.
Not sure who these guys represent.
Near the end of our tour only four of us remained, including one who struck a pose.
Nidhi took us inside a large building where local artists sold their work. "No pressure to buy," she insisted. "They just want to show you what they do." We sat down in front of this fellow, who quickly drew an elephant on a postcard to keep Steven and his family healthy.
So how come Dan and I were the ones who fell for the gimmick? I bought this watercolor on silk, which illustrates the major attractions in Jaipur as well as the primary modes of royal transportation, just so I can say that Prince Philip and I collect the same artist. Andrew, you tell His Royal Highness it's kitsch!
Believe it or not, our day wasn't over. Nidhi suggested that we rent pedicabs to visit the flower and spice bazaar. She hired this 44-year old driver for Dan and I. He broke my heart with his effort.
You tell me--is this any way to earn a living?
When I got off I gave our driver a 200 rupee note because I thought Nidhi already had paid him. It turns out she had hired him to take us both ways, so she didn't like it. Seems like I committed an economic faux pas. Nidhi deducted 200 rupees from the fee she had negotiated with him, which pissed me off when I realized what she had done. Here's India's equivalent of Simon Legree.
And here's a young rose merchant.
Tourists aren't the only ones who take pedicabs in Jaipur during rush hour.
After a stray cow scared the shit out of Steven, we ended our delightful day with an intense argument about tipping over dinner back at the hotel.
