Jaipur - More Terracotta than Pink

Well, let's just say that Jaipur is not as pink as it used to be! The buses are definitely pink, but over the years, with successive coats of paint, the buildings are now more terracotta in colour. Not that this in any way detracts from the overall effect of this uniformity. The magnificent City Palace and the beautifully crafted Hawa Mahal (Palace of the Winds) would be stunning in most shades. The walls, the huge gateways, and the bazaars in the old city have a wonderful ambience particularly, as the afternoon sun deepens the colour of the painted stonework. Outside the city, the impressively situated Amber Fort overlooking the Amber Palace is not to be missed. Even though you will be battling your way through tour parties, the stunningly decorated interior of the palace is worth it. The Jantar Mantar (observatory) is an extraordinary place to visit.

Quick Tips:

The traders in Jaipur are probably the most persistant and aggressive in India. It is not easy to wander the bazaar areas at leisure, so pretend that you only speak Gaelic - it does help!

Remember to take your camera with you!

Best Way To Get Around:

Due to heavy traffic congestion in the city centre, it is quicker to go around on foot. Most tourist sites are within easy walking distance of each other. There are regular buses out to the Amber Palace area. If you need to use an auto-rickshaw, be prepared to barter hard.

The expression "all fur coat and no knickers" is popular in Scotland and used to describe a person or place that has an exterior far grander than the interior. We have, on occasion, found it an excellent description of many hotels in India, including the inappropriately named Rajasthan Palace.

Set back off the main road in a quiet little enclave, the hotel is only 1km south of the main bazaar area of the old city. Entering through an impressive red sandstone gate, you will find yourself in beautifully laid-out gardens with mature trees and a somewhat eclectic smattering of Asian sculptures. The building is done in a similar red sandstone that has been extended over the years. The rooms on the ground floor have a small paved seating area outside looking over the gardens. The rooms are spacious, and the beds enormous. And that is the fur coat!

Now for the no knickers. The rooms, although spacious, are very dark and gloomy and could do with a lick of paint. The furnishings include very tatty, worn carpets; grubby curtains; and some of the most hideous and dusty ornaments I've ever seen. Personally, I can live without a TV, but if it's included in the price of the room, I'd expect it to work. The beds, although huge, were bizarre. In one of our rooms, the whole bed was a tiled platform with tiled sides that were about 6 inches higher than the mattress. Getting in to bed wasn't a problem - you just sort of threw yourself in - but getting out was like tackling Mount Everest. It was also cold. In the other room, the bedstead, made out of thick heavily carved and very cracked wood, leant at a 20-degree angle over the bed. It was like sleeping under a cliff. The swimming pool contained 6 inches of scummy brown water, but fortunately, was around the back of the building and didn't ruin your enjoyment of the gardens.

The real crunch though was the dining room and everything associated with the service therein: dark, gloomy, decidedly grubby, and full of mosquitoes, with a menu to match. You had to go and look for the staff, who then seemed most put out that you actually wanted to eat there. The food was uninspiring, served with bad grace, and we were overcharged in the dining room, when we ate outside, and when we ordered room service. It was such a shame really, because the hotel is in a great setting and really peaceful yet close to town, and the gardens are exceptional, with some rare, unusual plants and trees. I would, if pushed, stay here again because of the location, but I certainly wouldn't eat there again.

The first time I visited The Amber Palace, it was manageably busy. The second time, in the wake of the September 11 bombings, there were very few tourists. This time, it was heaving. So much so that a huge, new coach park has been built about 1km before reaching the ticket office and elephant departure point. Although we'd arrived at opening time (9am), there was already a lengthy queue for the elephant rides up to the palace. It also turned out that coach parties take precedence in the queue, thus guaranteeing that when you do reach the palace, it is overflowing to capacity. The elephant ride is, however, worth it, mainly because of the great view over the walls on the way up and partly because you're out of the way of the souvenir vendors. The elephants themselves are wonderfully attired in red, blue, and gold covers, while most of them have had their faces (or rear ends) decorated in beautiful vividly painted patterns.

The palace apartments are located up a short, steep flight of steps through an intricately painted gate called Ganesh Pole. The most stunning of the apartments is the Sheesh Mahal, where the walls are covered in mosaics of mirror and coloured glass. Unfortunately, as with most of the palace complex, photo opportunities are slim due to the crowds. Above this is the Jas Mandir, which is just as beautifully decorated, but with the added bonus of intricately carved screens and incredible views from the terrace, over the valley, and to the ruins of the old walls snaking along the hill ridges.

Unlike previous visits to The Amber Palace, Moata Lake, nestled beneath the palace walls, actually had water in it. This time, the pavilion and gardens laid out in classical Muslim style was an island in the lake rather than the inconsequential scrubby-looking ruin it had been before. Similarly, the gardens inside the palace were more lush and greener than previously, with well-tended flower beds and working water fountains providing a cool resting place. The coach parties do not seem to have time for the oldest part of the complex, the Palace of Man Singh I, and the place was deserted. In stark contrast to the ornate decoration in other parts of the complex, this large courtyard, with its central pillared pavilion, is constructed out of the rich golden sandstone used for the outside walls of the palace. After the crowds and visual overload of the rest of the palace, there is something deeply satisfying about the simplicity of the gold stone against the deep-blue sky.

Entrance to the palace is R50, and the elephant ride was R200 per person just for the trip up. I could have done without the hassle from the elephant driver demanding a larger tip.

This is the only place we've ever visited in India where we actually wanted (and needed) the services of a guide. It is possible to walk around the Jantar Mantar and admire the amazing constructions from a purely architectural point of view. However, in order to appreciate the workings and precision of the instruments, then a guide is a must. There are plenty of touts outside the enclosure offering their services, but the official guides can be found inside at the ticket office. Entry to the Jantar Mantar costs R50, and a guide will cost between R100-R200, and this seems to be determined by the language proficiency of the guides. It is worth making sure you can understand exactly what is being said.

In contrast with the rest of the old city, the Jantar Mantar has not been painted pink (or, indeed, terracotta), and the instruments are all clad in gold-coloured gypsum. Although the observatory was constructed in 1728 there is something very contemporary about the style. With little in the way of decorative adornment, the instruments, in keeping with their functional nature, are more reminiscent of modernist architecture and certainly contrast sharply with the neighbouring crenellated walls and towers of the City Palace.

The Jantar Mantar is one of five observatories built by Jai Singh and contains eighteen instruments, some of which provide astronomical observations, and others are for astrological purposes. The most impressive structure is the Samrat Yantra which is a sundial nearly 30m tall in the centre and has huge curved sides where the shadow of the sun falls giving a time reading that is accurate to within 2 seconds. There is a smaller version of this instrument in the observatory where, unlike the Samrat Yanta, the central stairway was open to the public. The Jai Prakash Yantra is my favourite instrument, partly because it's very photogenic and partly because it's hard to even make a guess at what it's used for. Two 4m-wide hemispheres of marble set into the ground with a small copper ring suspended above them, the shadows of which show the date, time and phase of the zodiac. It was used to determine auspicious days for important events and also to reconfirm readings taken by other specifically dedicted instruments in the observatory.

Behind these is the impressive Nadivalaya Yantra - an enormous instrument used to record the passage of the sun through the hemispheres. The readings taken from some of the instruments is taken from markings on metal plates. The metal used is an alloy of seven different materials that are least susceptible to expension and contraction, thus providing the most accurate readings possible. The name Jantar Mantar appears to have two different interpretations: the first meaning 'device' and 'calculation'. Personally, I prefer the inexactitude of the expression 'magical device', as I think the word 'magical' sums up the experience of a visit to the Jantar Mantar. (Photos courtesy of a friend, as I forgot my camera this time!)

Well, we’d "done" the Amber Palace and were sitting in the shade of the Suraj Pole (Sun Gate) drinking fresh orange juice. We sat for about an hour while tourist-laden elephants entered the courtyard, deposited their load, and returned to the gate, where each one stopped to receive a handful of peanuts from the vendor before heading off back down the hill. "Let’s walk back to town," says my sister, "we can always hop on a bus if it gets too much." Still suffering from the effects of being attacked by a cow in Varanassi, my left hip was not very enthusiastic. However, I was not particularly keen to rush back to the sweltering pollution of crowded Jaipur, either.

So we set off in the wake of a trio of elephants until we reached the footpath that leads down to the lake, past a million souvenir vendors, who we managed to ward off by informing them that the people behind us were really rich.

The steep, flagged stone path affords beautiful views down to the lake and the garden pavilions. The surrounding hills are topped by the impressive defensive walls and watchtowers of the old city. On reaching the bottom of the path, we made our way to the row of cafés frequented by the coach and taxi drivers and bought some supplies of bottled water. It had been a warm morning, and it was becoming a warmer afternoon. There is a good pavement that runs along the side of the lake to the coach park, and we spent a while hanging over the wall watching a couple of elephants enjoying themselves in the water. Sadly, what could have been an excellent spot for a picnic was littered with plastic bottles and piles of litter.

Once past the lake, the pavement disappears and the road narrows and starts to wind up through a steep cut in the hills. The road is quite busy, but because of the incline, the traffic is not fast and there is enough room to walk without being on the tarmac. Tree roots grow down the side of the cutting and small lizards scuttle about on the rocks. Every so often, there was a break in the cutting, where a narrow track would lead off towards a small homestead in a cultivated clearing amidst the acacia trees. Small shrines were cut into the rock face at intervals, and the occasional bit of graffiti could be seen high up in the most inaccessible places. As we walked (or limped in my case), it became obvious that we were a bit of a tourist attraction ourselves. Of course, nearly every auto-rickshaw and taxi slowed down to offer their services, but so too did every vehicle full of both Indian and foreign tourists. They, however, were not offering lifts - they were just having a good stare at us. We got the distinct impression that not many people actually walked this route, especially as we passed nobody else at all on foot.

After about 4km, the road had levelled out and we reached the gate that marks the exit from Amber. Once through, there was a marvelous view right over the valley and the Man Sagar Lake towards Jaipur. The road winds gently downhill from here through the ubiquitous acacia trees, but now interspersed with lush palms and brilliant coloured orange, red, purple, and white bougainvillea shrubs. Curious ruined buildings dotted the side of the road and protruded through the trees.

Eventually, we reached a small group of cafés at the start of the promenade that runs along the length of the Man Sagar Lake. Sitting in a small pavilion, we were joined by two saddhus who we had seen back at the Amber Palace and had just hopped off the bus. After an exchange of pleasantries, we continued along the still-to-be-completed promenade in what was now the sweltering heat of the afternoon.

The last time I was in Jaipur, the side of the lake was just littered waste ground and the lake was practically empty. The Jal Mahal pavilion in the middle of the lake now looked much more photogenic than previously, but the muddy causeway that had connected it to the lakeside seemed to have been removed. The Jal Mahal was built in 1799 as a hunting lodge for duck shooting, and the lake was formed when a dam was built between two hills on the east side of the city. Once the promenade and tree planting along it is completed, this will be a pleasant place to escape from the congestion of the city.

As the cafés we'd passed only sold sweet, fizzy drinks, we hadn't bothered to stop, so when we spotted the Trident Hilton Hotel, we decided to nip in for a fresh juice. Big mistake! First, we were not a pretty sight and definitely not representative of their usual clientele. Second, despite what it said on the menu, their orange juice was not fresh. We won't be staying there in a hurry! We went back out into the scorching sun again, past the end of the lake, over the road works, and through a small local street bazaar. This is the location of many large tourist emporia selling textiles, pottery, and other Rajasthani handicrafts. By this time, we must have been looking pretty scary, as not one tout gave us a second glance, which meant we were free to window shop at leisure.

Once we reached the Joriwar Singh Gate (undergoing renovation) on the north side of the city, we threw in the towel and took an auto-rickshaw back to our hotel. The walk was about 10km, took us a couple of hours, and was well worth the effort. The views were magnificent, the scenery beautiful, and the sunburn a bit sore. If you decide to do it, then carry plenty of water, wear a hat, and be prepared to be an object of curiosity.

Well, if you're ever going to need a broad range of medical treatments when in India, then Jaipur is the place to be. When we arrived, we had all been in denial over the fact that we weren't quite up to scratch on the health front. All experienced travellers, with absolutely no history of any stomach troubles ever, there was no way we were going to give into the gradually increasing discomfort that had been lurking for a few days. Until we reached Jaipur, when it all became too much for one of us, who retreated to her room, armed with buckets and a catering pack of loo roll.

Eventually, we realised that a doctor was needed, and we were provided with the details of the 'Tourist Doctor'. A kindly gentleman with an excellent command of English, he arrived within 15 minutes and proceeded to give our friend the benefit of a medical consultation that you would only get if on a private health care plan at home. 'Dysentery', he declared, and already armed with the appropriate drugs, left our friend with a selection of pills and potions to sort things out. The rest of us kept quiet and tried to convince ourselves that all we had was a bit of a stomach upset.

The services of the doctor did not end there, either. After diagnosis, he then maintains 72-hour contact with the patient in the form of phone calls and however many repeat visits are needed. The following day, our friend was already feeling better when disaster struck in the form of a car accident. Another one of our party had gone with our driver to the bank, and the car had been hit on the passenger side by a bus. The car, which would have been a write-off at home, was a mess, but fortunately, our friend, our driver, and some of the bus passengers escaped with cuts and bruises. The bus driver and conductor disappeared off into the wide blue yonder which, according to the police, is not unusual when someone has caused an accident. When our friend returned to the hotel (by taxi), she was obviously very shaken, and we thought it prudent to get medical advice again.

The Tourist Doctor hot-footed it to the hotel, where he once again did his rigorous medical examination and pronounced our friend to be in shock, and her blood pressure was through the roof. (Surprise, surprise!) More drugs were dispensed from his cavernous bag, and both of our friends spent the next two days being attended to by the doctor. Before leaving Jaipur, the doctor provided professionally written medical reports for insurance purposes and accounts of the treatment and drugs dispensed for our friend's doctors. On return to the UK, our doctors were impressed with the Tourist Doctor's treatment and confirmed that the correct drugs had been prescribed. I just wish my sister and I hadn't been quite so complacent about our 'stomach issues' and consulted the doctor at the same time. After leaving Jaipur, the pair of us were eventually hit with dysentery and were ill for weeks on return to the UK. The call-out charges for the doctor, including the 72 hours of aftercare, were about R1500. The cost of any drugs is added to this. The Tourist Doctor's details are as follows:

Dr Rajan Garg
Mediclaim Panacea
Mobile Phone No: 9828103456