Riding into Rajasthan

Traveling the road to Pushkar, we drove deeper into the countryside of Rajasthan, the heart of India. The busy road soon ended, as we turned off towards Pushkar, and the country lane had great promise as a motocross track. The suspension of the Ambassador cars has to be the original equipment from the forties, so one's  behind becomes a tad numb after seven hours on the road. The switch from highway to byway was definitely having an effect on our posteriors. Through herds of goats led by sari-clad girls, small villages of thatched buildings and onwards into the edge of the desert, Jack drove relentlessly. As we lumbered into the lakeside town, it seemed hard to believe we'd been on the road less than one day, with thirty-four to go.

Pushkar is a small town, barely 12,000 inhabitants, nestled under Snake Mountain on the edge of the desert. Bathing ghats (steps) and temples surrounds the small lake at the center of the town, and these are often busy with the many pilgrims who flock to this holy town. After the din of Delhi, a quiet day in this lazy town will be most welcome. We find a hotel and get a huge room with attached bath for about six dollars; the hotel even has a swimming pool! The swimming pool, sadly, looks like a poorly maintained cistern; we make do with a tepid bucket shower. The streets of town are virtually vehicle free, now that?s not to say there isn?t traffic, but it's pretty well limited to the two and four legged variety. Pushkar has a decidedly rural flavor, meshed with a rather large contingent of young backpackers. The town is not only a Hindu pilgrimage site, but also a great rest stop from the rigors of Indian travel.

We decide to take a walk down to the lake, to watch the ghats at sunset. We have been forewarned to avoid the plethora of Brahmins who invite travellers to partake of a lakeside ritual aimed at giving you much luck and taking from you many rupees. We are barely within site of the placid lake before some friendly faces beg us to improve our lot in life with a simple prayer; it's easier to give in than to avoid these persistent young men. The lakeside ritual involves a banana leaf, a coconut, a few grains of rice, tikka powder and strands of colored string which are wrapped around your wrist, this bracelet is affectionately known as the "Pushkar Passport". The name for this bracelet surely arises from the fact that, once you have been "taken" by the ritual, you are free to wander the town without further obstruction. The ritual is actually quite interesting, and at less than a dollar per person, well worth the price. We are now free to explore the town, having gained our passports and the approval of the Brahmins.

On a side note, Liam, our youngest, seems to have adapted well to the subculture of the Indian tourist. Feeling a little too civilized in this World of free-spirited backpackers, he has dyed his hair fluorescent red, using one of our valuable packages of drink crystals. I think it was cranberry. Having done this he is keeping close tabs on his baseball cap. Back at home this type of behavior would be met by mother's displeasure; but who am I to interfere with his method of submerging himself in a different culture when Mom?s walking around in a sarong!

Critters and Camels

We have arranged a camel ride into the desert for tomorrow morning, so we wander the town before a lakeside dinner and bed. Now, a lakeside dinner by a holy lake at the edge of the desert in the heart of India sounds delightful, but facts can deceive in India. The restaurant is basically outdoors under a thatch roof, with rattan chairs and candlelight, so far so good, but meeting the cook can quickly dispel any appetite. The cook was to be the most downright filthy person I was to see in all our travels. This grayish mass cloaked in clothing that proudly displayed the menu's ingredients approached our table with an eager grin, displaying his two orange teeth and a very suspect "cigarette" butt, and proudly claimed he could prepare anything off the menu...oh, goody! As I scanned the menu trying to decide which item would prove the least likely to harbor parasites, the kids erupted with glee, having spied a few "cute mice" peering at them from the rafters. The cute mice, as it turned out, were rather large rats, but we felt better as a stray dog proceeded to catch and dispose of one under our table, kind of like the pest control man at home. Now there are two schools of thought to eating in India, both of which have the same ultimate results: you lose weight. The first is to eat only packaged foods and peelable fruits, great for warding off tummy bugs, but my idea of fun is not crackers and oranges for a month. The second is to dive right in, save a few basic rules, and kill the beasts regularly with doses of medication: much more fun. Dinner tasted fine and we were off to bed with full tummies and a nightcap of cyproflaxin.

The sun rises swiftly in the desert, so we were off to our trusty camel wallah before eight a.m. Camels are like horses, stubborn and haughty, and they spit. We have three unique beasts, and we name them according to their unique personalities. Roddy, who is eleven, is perched atop Plato, the intelligent lead beast, I follow on Lambchop, docility at its pinnacle, and Don with Liam, aged nine, take up the rear on O.J., a rather nasty beast. The ride into the desert is breathtakingly beautiful as the sun climbs higher in the sky, causing the shadows to dance over the sands. Our guides don't speak English, so the ride passes with us enjoying the lilt of Hindi and the passing landscape. Many can attest to the pain of riding a horse for the first time. Well camels are wider, and I'm certain we all walked like bad parodies of John Wayne for at least the next week.

Our stay in Pushkar is unfortunately far too short. We have time to grab a lassi (a great Indian drink of yogurt and crushed fruit, hopefully not cooled by ice chips), and we're off to Jaipur. Jaipur is known as the "Pink City", a major destination in Rajasthan; our reason for a stopover is the forts in the surrounding countryside and a break in the trip to Agra.