Jaipur is, so far, a highlight.
We get off the train and by the time arrive at our hotel, it's about 11:30. The hotel - the Ajjan Nivas - is beautiful. Our room is clean and comfortable and they even cook some chips for us after the kitchen has closed. I've barely eaten anything for days and my stomach is officially in love.
The next day, we are collected by "Ritchie", the little auto driver with the metro hair that drove us to the hotel the night before. He gave us such a heartfelt speech and was so pleasant to us that we decided to take him up on his offer of showing us around the next day.
He takes us first to the Albert Hall Museum. It was designed by an English guy called Sir Samuel Swinton and built in the 1880's, originally intended as a town hall but a later Maharaja decided it would be a museum as part of a kind of artistic revolution that took place in Jaipur. The building is beautiful and has a wide variety of artifacts inside. I'm not hugely enamoured with the pots and textiles but the large collection of old weapons is excellent. For some reason I find the swords and axes fascinating, as well as the matchlock rifles which are surprisingly large. There is also a model of a cenotaph that draws my eye - it is incredibly detailed.
Here is the outside, as well as the remainder of a huge flock of pigeons that took off as we approached.
Here is a picture of the back of me, as well as the interior of the building.
Next up is the Jantar Mantar. This place is great. Entering makes you feel like you've walked into an M. C. Escher painting. It's all sweeping angles and corners that seem at first glance to fold into one another.
It's here that we bump into Sophie and Pete, a couple of mates from the UK who we met in the lobby of our hotel in Agra. They both seemed really nice and were having a similar time in India to us. We found that they were on the same train to Jaipur as us and then the same hotel. It turns out that they had been directed to the same tour office as us by "a friendly guy on the street".
Sophie is really fair and was quite upset in Agra after her visit to the Taj Mahal, a dream she'd had since childhood. Apparently, once inside, they were unable to walk more than a few steps without Indian tourists asking for her picture. This happened every couple of minutes and made the whole thing pretty unpleasant by the end. I admit that, at the time, I thought they might have been exaggerating a bit but I see it first hand at the Jantar.
It is the middle of the day and, again, really hot. We haven't been through the gates for five minutes before seeking shade. Sophie and Pete must have done the same because that's where they find us and sit down. Within thirty seconds of them joining us an Indian guy walks up, thrusts his children at Sophie and starts taking pictures.
We move on.
The Jantar is basically a giant sundial - built by a Mughal Maharaja to measure the movement of the sun through the heavens. Below are some touristy photos of me standing around next to stuff.
Finally we go to the Gaitore, which happens to be the cenotaph I saw a model of in the museum. It's a bit off the beaten track and only costs about 30rs to enter, which is much less than the usual tourist fees. A little overgrown and weathered, it feels a bit like something from an Indiana Jones film. This makes me feel a bit like Indiana Jones, despite all evidence pointing to the fact that I'm a sweaty pink tourist with his trousers rolled up past his ankles.
It's almost time to leave the Jaipur. We eat some food with Sophie and Pete and ask the hotel, which is a little way off a main road, to sort us an auto to the station. He is adamant that only one will be required for the four of us and all our luggage. I question this but he insists. I assume that he is actually talking about a taxi and give it up.
Sure enough, an auto rickshaw turns up. Alice sits on my lap, with Sophie and Pete next to me on the back seat. Our bags bulge behind me. The driver pulls up a few yards from the hotel and another guy jumps in the front next to him. There are now 6 people in the auto. The roads back to the station are not in the best condition and our driver seems oblivious to the gaping pot holes. I'm sure we're going to break an axle. I try to hold Alice in the vehicle without squeezing her too hard.
We make it to the station, a little battered but unscathed.
We get off the train and by the time arrive at our hotel, it's about 11:30. The hotel - the Ajjan Nivas - is beautiful. Our room is clean and comfortable and they even cook some chips for us after the kitchen has closed. I've barely eaten anything for days and my stomach is officially in love.
The next day, we are collected by "Ritchie", the little auto driver with the metro hair that drove us to the hotel the night before. He gave us such a heartfelt speech and was so pleasant to us that we decided to take him up on his offer of showing us around the next day.
He takes us first to the Albert Hall Museum. It was designed by an English guy called Sir Samuel Swinton and built in the 1880's, originally intended as a town hall but a later Maharaja decided it would be a museum as part of a kind of artistic revolution that took place in Jaipur. The building is beautiful and has a wide variety of artifacts inside. I'm not hugely enamoured with the pots and textiles but the large collection of old weapons is excellent. For some reason I find the swords and axes fascinating, as well as the matchlock rifles which are surprisingly large. There is also a model of a cenotaph that draws my eye - it is incredibly detailed.
Here is the outside, as well as the remainder of a huge flock of pigeons that took off as we approached.
Here is a picture of the back of me, as well as the interior of the building.
Next up is the Jantar Mantar. This place is great. Entering makes you feel like you've walked into an M. C. Escher painting. It's all sweeping angles and corners that seem at first glance to fold into one another.
It's here that we bump into Sophie and Pete, a couple of mates from the UK who we met in the lobby of our hotel in Agra. They both seemed really nice and were having a similar time in India to us. We found that they were on the same train to Jaipur as us and then the same hotel. It turns out that they had been directed to the same tour office as us by "a friendly guy on the street".
Sophie is really fair and was quite upset in Agra after her visit to the Taj Mahal, a dream she'd had since childhood. Apparently, once inside, they were unable to walk more than a few steps without Indian tourists asking for her picture. This happened every couple of minutes and made the whole thing pretty unpleasant by the end. I admit that, at the time, I thought they might have been exaggerating a bit but I see it first hand at the Jantar.
It is the middle of the day and, again, really hot. We haven't been through the gates for five minutes before seeking shade. Sophie and Pete must have done the same because that's where they find us and sit down. Within thirty seconds of them joining us an Indian guy walks up, thrusts his children at Sophie and starts taking pictures.
We move on.
The Jantar is basically a giant sundial - built by a Mughal Maharaja to measure the movement of the sun through the heavens. Below are some touristy photos of me standing around next to stuff.
Finally we go to the Gaitore, which happens to be the cenotaph I saw a model of in the museum. It's a bit off the beaten track and only costs about 30rs to enter, which is much less than the usual tourist fees. A little overgrown and weathered, it feels a bit like something from an Indiana Jones film. This makes me feel a bit like Indiana Jones, despite all evidence pointing to the fact that I'm a sweaty pink tourist with his trousers rolled up past his ankles.
It's almost time to leave the Jaipur. We eat some food with Sophie and Pete and ask the hotel, which is a little way off a main road, to sort us an auto to the station. He is adamant that only one will be required for the four of us and all our luggage. I question this but he insists. I assume that he is actually talking about a taxi and give it up.
Sure enough, an auto rickshaw turns up. Alice sits on my lap, with Sophie and Pete next to me on the back seat. Our bags bulge behind me. The driver pulls up a few yards from the hotel and another guy jumps in the front next to him. There are now 6 people in the auto. The roads back to the station are not in the best condition and our driver seems oblivious to the gaping pot holes. I'm sure we're going to break an axle. I try to hold Alice in the vehicle without squeezing her too hard.
We make it to the station, a little battered but unscathed.
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