Right now we’re concentrating on upcoming plans. You’ll may have noticed that the list of destinations on the right of the page has changed. Trust me, it’s been altered a lot more than that on my laptop between uploads.

Today was very eventless as far as sightseeing goes, but we’ve booked flights from Delhi to Mumbai on the 26th so at least we know where we are then. After that it gets a little murky as one place we hoped to go for new year is full so the plan now is to check out Sri Lanka instead. I expect we shall be weeping over the cost of flights, but we don’t have much choice.

By the time we sorted the tickets out, it was gone 11am and the drive to Ranakpur didn’t get us there till after 2pm. We stopped for lunch at a fairly posh place. The food was nice, the decor very “last days of the Raj”, the animals friendly (I had a cat rubbing itself against my legs and a squirrel taking food from my hand)… and the bill huge. In fact, it was more than our accomodation for the last few nights. OK, in the grand scheme of things 340Rp each isn’t an enormous amount for a buffet but when we’ve been paying a third of that for lunch recently, it’s quite a hit.

Accommodation here is also expensive. We’re in the cheapest of about four possible locations and it’s still 550Rp a night. The only internet is a single terminal – dial up, Windows 98, IE5.0 – in a small shop 5km away, and that couldn’t cope with the fonts in some of Hans’ emails. Instead it displayed half of his inbox as a series of squares. All part of the “experience” I suppose.

We’re spending the evening going through possible plans, but we can’t confirm anything until we hear back from several places we’re trying to book. I think we need a good period of time online in the next few days to try and square all this!

India so far has been OK. It’s not massively eye-opening and I’m getting a little “templed out” the same way I was becoming jaded of Buddhas (jade ones or not) in Thailand. I’m really glad to have Hans for company or I’d probably be going stir crazy. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not a bad country it’s just that there’s not a while heck of a lot to do while you’re being driven from place to place, and at night, and once you’ve seen the third temple in two days…

Hopefully Mumbai will be a little different, and then Goa for the beaches and so forth. Sri Lanka is also recommended (and not just by the emigrated locals – Indy, I’m looking at you), while Bhutan and Nepal are really seeming attractive right now. Bhutan’s going to be pricey, but not as bad as we’d hoped as all the fees are inclusive of food, accomodation and so on. More on that as and when we book, but it looks like we’ll be there for 4 nights from the end of January.

Right now, it’s 18:45. It’s pitch dark outside, there’s nobody else at the resort at all, neither of us is hungry and we didn’t bring an X-Box. Good job I have a pile of books to read.

This was a strange day, but in a nice way. Once more I had to open all the windows, make lots of noise and throw things at Hans to get him to wake up. Delayed, we skipped breakfast and hopped into the car. In a way, it’s a good job we were on an empty stomach.

Our first stop was the Karni Mata Temple at Deshnok, around 30m SW of Bikaner. From the outside, this is nothing special templewise. Nice gates, lovely carvings, bustling market around it and so forth. Our guide informed us that this particular temple has featured in National Geographic, and on the Discovery Channel. This means there has to be something different about it. And there certainly is.

Let me tell you a story. Are you sitting comfortably? You won’t be for long…

Karni Mata was an incarnation of Durga, who lived in the 14th Century. He asked the God of Death (Yama) to restore life to the son of a grieving storyteller. Yama refused for whatever reason a God of Death would choose to do so – maybe he was having a bad day – and to spite him Karni Mata reincarnated all dead storytellers as rats, thus depriving Yama of a lot of human souls.

Do you see where this is going yet? OK, here’s a big clue. Lonely Planet has a boxed section for this temple with the headline “The Temple of Rats”.

The place is heaving with them. This is their building. The worshippers feed them, pray to them, eat food that has been blessed and smeared with rat saliva and hope to have a rat scamper over their tootsies as a sign of good fortune. Also good luck is to spot one of the rare white rats. Our driver saw one, but we didn’t although I did have a rat brush against my heel if that counts. Of course, we were barefoot – this is a temple after all.

You have to respect the number of people constantly filing through with offerings, kneeling to pray at a small altar which opens into a chamber where rats can be seen to “dine” on the food prepared for them. This is an important religious site, though I admit it was hard not to gawp and instead to maintain an interested but non-touristy attitude. I never thought I’d be close enough to a rat that I’d have to use the macro mode on my camera to take a picture of it.

Hans and I both agreed that it was probably one of the weirdest places we have yet been – and trust me, Hans has been to a lot of places. As I said above, though, it’s not a sideshow – it’s a religious ground and a hugely important one to the Hindus who worship there.

With our shoes safely back on our feet, I had a brief conversation with a passing cow that loved being scratched underneath the eye (she kept following me when I walked off) and then we jumped into the car to be driven to Jodhpur.

We got to Jodhpur at around 2pm and were somewhat starving by this point. Well, I was. Hans slept through most of the journey! We opted to go straight to some accomodation and worry about everything else afterwards. Our driver took us to the Durag Villas Guest House which was nice enough, but we’d been recommended the Govind Hotel near the station. However, when we mentioned we wanted to check out the options, our driver said “You want to look one more place? How about that one?” and pointed out the building next door.

This was the Durag Niwas Guest House run by the same people as the Villas. Well, why not? We popped in and something just clicked. Cool, relaxed, cushioned areas to crash in, curtains tied up around the place, lovely decor in the rooms – and a good price. Rather than mess around as we’d done the previous day we decided just to take it and perhaps look at the Govind ourselves later on.

Two other things swung it for us: a) I was starving and this place sold food; b) the owner said that he had a free pass to go and watch the polo at the palace with the Maharajha at 3:00 and we were invited, regardless of whether we stayed at the Guest House or not.

Polo. With royalty. And food.

Yeah, we took the room. Looking back, this was a good decision and it was a lovely place to stay. I just opted for a nice and quick scrambled egg on toast to tide me over till dinner and we bundled into the car to go to the palace.

Our local friends walked us to the seated area and we plonked ourselves on a wall in the back row – all the chairs had been taken. Free Pepsi was dished around, a regular (“we call him the Candy Man as he always brings the cheapest sweets he can find from the market and passes them to everyone”) lived up to his nickname and I forgot to check out the toilets which, despite being in a tent by the side of a field, are apparently magnificent.

The match we watched was a cup final between the Maharajah’s side and a team from Malaysia. I didn’t know the rules of polo beforehand and now I’m even more confused, but at least I can say I sat in the same stand as a senior royal and watched 8 people on horseback swing mallets around. The Maharajah’s team won, although the visitors were giving them a scare towards full time. During the game we had a one-man commentary over the PA system by a very posh-sounding Indian chap. He did a good job considering his viewpoint was the same as ours and he often couldn’t quite see what was happening.

Once we got back to the hostel, we relieved our driver of duty for the day and settled in properly before going for a walk in town just as the sun started to dip. Our aim was to find the Govind Hotel which – eventually – we did. I have to say one thing about India I don’t like is the smell. This isn’t something I’ve mentioned about any country I’ve yet been to. The thing is, the male population of every other country doesn’t treat any available upright surface as an outdoor lavatory. OK, back home you have a few beers, you’re staggering along and you nip up an alley way for a quick piddle against a dumpster. In India, you’ll struggle to walk along any road and not see a guy having a pee somewhere. Some areas smell like the lifts in a Glasgow tenament building. It’s that bad.

But, hey, it’s all part of the experience.

Despite the late hour, Jodhpur was bustling and we dodged the traffic as we weaved across roads, and tried to avoid eye contact with anyone who had anything to sell. I guess we’re both a bit jaded by now, but the traffic and the hawkers just don’t bother us any more. Hans’ usual trick is to tell them that whatever they’re trying to sell, I want it. Any children coming up miming food and saying “bon-bon?” are told that “I don’t have bon-bon’s – he has bon-bons” and a finger is pointed in my direction. I have now taken to pre-empting this and running point, so I encounter them first and can push them towards Hans who is now the man who has to admit that his friend is a liar.

Eventually, and about 45 minutes later than we expected given the map we were following, we located the hotel. We popped in and asked to see the rooms. In honesty, they were OK but the one we were already in was a better choice, as well as 50Rp a night cheaper. However, the girls had partly recommended the place on the basis of the restaurant so we walked up several flights to the roof. Apparently there is a fort view but as it was night-time by now, we couldn’t see it. Not to worry – what was much more important was the menu.

It was varied and we sampled a bit of everything. Hans went Indian, I went western (beans on toast, pizza with everything, strawberry milkshake with ice cream and fruit salad dessert). In my defense, the beans were slightly curried.

We got talking to an American couple who’d been visiting some friends before doing a few days’ touring and then heading home – to Canterbury in England. The pleasant company made dinner go that bit quicker and all too soon they had to head off to catch their train.

Hans and I wandered the streets looking for an internet den where the PCs looked less than 15 years old and eventually settled on one around 20 minutes’ walk away. Emails done and other destinations checked out, we walked back to the guest house in near complete darkness and called it a night. A good, if weird, day.

Continuing the Rajasthan epic, we rose after a decent kip and enjoyed an OK breakfast before loading the car up. This time, we went for the less labour intensive option of chucking Hans’ stuff on the front seat and just squishing mine into the boot. And off we set.

We drove for about four hours, stopping to fuel up outside Bikaner. On the way, the scenery changed from green(ish) to more desert-like and arid. More and more camels became obvious as the water became sparce. We drove for countless kilometres in places without seeing another vehicle, and then suddenly we’d enter a small township with its own hustle and bustle.

On arrival in Bikaner, we had to drive through a metal “archway” similar to those you have outside garages to make sure your car roof won’t damage the delicate 1970’s breezeblocks. This seems strange as Bikaner doesn’t have a roof as far as I can tell.

Circling a roundabout we drove past the fort and on to the Hotel Harasar Haveli which our driver had chosen for lunch. Lonely Planet lists this place as bringing in most of its trade by commission and this often means that the place is pretty crappy – certainly that’s the case with Vietnam. However, lunch was delicious and quite cheap at 100Rp including tax for two courses and a glass of (hot – gah) milk.

We convinced the staff that we wanted to check out some other accommodation before we made our mind up, and our driver took us sightseeing. First up was Bikaner’s fort, Junagarh. This impressively huge building was erected between 1588 and 1593. The outer wall is 986m long, featuring 36 bastions.

Entry is 100Rp for a foreigner (significantly less for Indians), plus 30Rp to take pictures. The fee includes a mandatory guide. We were part of a larger group, all of whom spoke Hindi. Our guide rattled things off to them and then came up to Hans and I and repeated everything in good English.

The building is simply stunning and the age of some of the things within it beggar belief. The oldest is a throne brought in around 1312. Understandably, touching it is not allowed! In the armoury are some unusual weapons including camel and elephant guns. These aren’t used to shoot the creatures, but are mounted on them. One of the guns we saw had a 12-foot barrel. Aiming something like that must have been rather tricky, especially on something that rolls as it moves like a camel.

From the fort, we drove to the local YHA which apparently has rooms for 100Rp. They showed us two at 200Rp and they were… erm… pretty minging. If I was passing by and just wanted to crash for a night, then fine. At 15p for a dorm, I’d have dumped my stuff, slept and left. Not on this trip, though.

We moved on to the Vino Paying Guest House. Lonely Planet quite correctly says to expect a warm welcome and the people there were indeed friendly. The rooms are in chalets in the garden area and nicely decorated for the 200Rp asked, but it’s well out of the way. At this point, we bowed to the knowledge of our driver and agreed that we would head back to the Harasar Haveli where we’d had lunch.

As we were in the area, though, our driver (I will get his name – I promise) took us to the Bhandasr Temple which is nearby. Built before the city that now surrounds it over 500 years ago, and allegedly using 40,000kg of ghee (butter oil) to make the foundations due to the scarcity of water, this is a phenomenal building. There are several temples like it in India, but this is the only one to be fully decoratively painted on the inside.

There were very few tourists and our guide seemed to get on well with the gent in charge, so we were even allowed to enter the “no entry” areas to take pictures. As sunset approached, we headed for the summit, crunching pigeon poo under our bare feet (which reminds me – I should wash those later) to look at the city as darkness descended.

We spent maybe 45 minutes up there, just soaking up the city. Kids playing cricket, others with kites, seven tiny puppies rollicking around our parked car, camels blocking traffic… All very serene. I did get a couple of decent sunset snaps later on and we plodged down the steps. I only banged my head on the low doorways once.

Before we left, the priest (I’m not sure of the correct term) daubed a small amount of yellow paint on our foreheads “for luck” and accepted a small donation to the temple. We gave him 20Rp which seems to please him and he chatted to me for ten minutes about travelling. Nice guy.

The traffic here is thankfully nowhere near as bad as Delhi, so we made it back to the hotel fairly quickly and got checked in. Hans managed to stop two lads lugging our bags up to our rooms, thus saving us tipping more people. Us backpackers are such a stingy bunch. Especially the Canadians 😉

It was like being back in the outback – alarms ringing at 6:30 in the morning and realising that the world was already awake. Except for Hans who rolled back over again. Delhi’s not as bustly as Hanoi in the mornings – the city doesn’t really start to work itself into a horn-beeping frenzy until 9am but there are people on the streets very early on.

Breakfast was very quick. Mainly as nowhere was open so we skipped it and therefore could have had an extra half hour in bed. Instead, we were on time to meet our driver and threw our bags into the boot. Then took them back out, rearranged them and put them in again. Then removed one of the rucksacks and put it on the back seat, squished the two large bags around, removed the boot shelf, squeezed the bags some more, put the shelf back on and slammed the boot three times until it shut. This took longer than breakfast would have.

And off we sped through the rapidly thickening morning traffic. Our driver made one “touristy” stop at a huge (30m at a guess) statue of Shiva. We took a couple of photos while he muttered a few prayers, then jumped back into the mini-mobile and crept away.

Both of us nodded off for a while – that’s Hans and I. Thankfully, our driver stayed well awake. After some time our stomachs started telling us we hadn’t had breakfast so we stopped at the first restaurant. No, not KFC again. That would be silly. McDonalds. Hey, give me a chance, here. You tell me another country where you can get a Chicken Maharaja Mac. I guess this franchise was Hindu, as there was no beef on the menu at all – just chicken, fish and veggie. Still, 99Rp for breakfast wasn’t bad and the burger was OK. I still prefer Singapore’s McSpicy though.

The roads varied greatly as we travelled. Huge, empty motorways. Teeny, single-track roads. Gravel. Tarmac. Constant, though, was the fact that 4×4 drivers assumed that they owned the road and, despite them having the ability to drive on muck, we always ended up being the ones leaving the tarmac to let them past.

Cows gave way to camels. Camels pulling carts with people on. Camels lying in the road asleep. Camels grazing from trees.

Just to break the monotony, we hit a toll road. Actually, there were several – some of them looked more like they were collecting money to do the work needed rather than recouping expenditure.

Our drive suggested lunch around 2pm and we pulled into what he promised us was a good restaurant. He wasn’t kidding. For 200Rp we went for a set menu which included chicken, rice, potato, popadums, bananas, yoghurt, and tea. Nice and filling.

We still had a bit to go, though. Another hour or so later and we finally arrived in Mandawa. We’d settled on a hotel which Hans located in the Lonely Planet – Hotel Shekhawati. The driver pulled us up in front of a beautiful building which he recommended. Amazing, bright collages of paintwork covered the entire place. But not our hotel. Lonely Planet listed this one as rather expensive and with staff who were “uninterested” so we stuck with our original choice. Two teenagers kept pace with the car yelling things through the windows (we think directions to another hotel) until we shook them loose at a junction.

A short distance away and we got to our hotel. Half the price, really nice guy on reception and amazing, bright paintwork collages all over the front, currently being worked on by two very talented individuals. Basically, the paintwork is what Mandawa is famous for. Rightly so, as well.

We dumped our bags and had a wander around the hotel, onto the roof. It’s obvious the Taliban don’t have a hold on Mandawa (or anywhere in India, if you’re going to get all finicky about it) as there must have been 50 airborne kites within sight. Kids everywhere were pulling on kite strings or watching other children playing with them.

The hotel manager asked us when we wanted to eat and then suggested if we wanted a walk around there was a young kid who’d do a small tour. Obviously, it was going to cost and we got the manager to tell us most people gave the lad 100Rp. That seemed fair, so we took him up on it.

The young lad was pretty good. He told us he was 15 and still in school, but was only taught Hindi. He’d picked up English, German, Spanish, French and Italian from tourists so that he could do tours to help his family out. He did well, in both our opinions.

We saw a few buildings in which people now lived, having shifted in when the owners departed for the big cities. All of these buildings had paintwork, but it was in various states of fading. Some had been touched up, but on the whole there are a lot more buildings with crumbling stonework and decaying paint than there are with fresh coats of Dulux.

He also took us to a local well, which is now disused. It’s 60m deep and dry as a bone. Scarily, the top is open and a ladder descends down to a rickety wooden platform. I didn’t volunteer to clamber down.

On the way back to the hotel, we stopped by his father’s shop. “A-ha, here we go”,we thought. We were offeredm and accepted, a glass of hot, sweet chai and his father showed us some of the goods they had. It was obvious they expected us to buy.

He must have shown us 30 rugs – all beautifully made in various ways, but no way could we carry any. I think he eventually got the hint and pointed out his paintwork, all done on silk. This time he mentioned a price – 250Rp. After checking the exchange rate last night I know the Pound isn’t as strong against the Rupee as I thought so this is about three quid. Still, for the quality of the work and a souvenir which takes up next to no space whatsoever, this seemed fine to me. I bought a rather nice one with elephants on which I’ll post home sometime soon.

Our guide waved us goodbye near the hotel as his friends tried to convince us that people normally give him 500Rp tips. Nice try… he got 100 and was probably the first person we’ve met who didn’t question the amount. He did ask us to tell the hotel we’d only given him 50, though.

We crashed for a while as I updated this blog, and Hans resorted to his primitive rock carvings. OK, pen and paper. But that’s only because he ran out of granite to carve.

Dinner was a very nice vegetarian set meal similar to lunch (plus a shredded carrot and milk dessert), and including beer was probably a little bit more expensive than the afternoon meal. We got talking to a nice Kiwi family after dinner. They’re travelling India for 7 weeks with their young daughter and she seemed to be having a whale of a time. I think I’ve convinced them about the Tiger Temple and Vietnam. In exchange, they informed us that the National Park we are due to visit in about 7 days is closed until mid-January. Argh.

Tomorrow’s start is a slighty more realistic 9am, so we should both be up to date on sleep by then!