Shopping was the order of the day. But first we had to see the fort. Jaighur Fort and the Amber Fort. I say this in a disgruntled way, not for any other reason that we didn't get to ride up there on an elephant.
The reason for this was simple. There were 3 in fact.
Firstly, The elephants aren't well treated
Secondly, a tourist got trampled by an elephant whilst it carried them up to the fort.
Thirdly and pretty significantly.. we didn't see any elephants.
This was soon forgotten because the forts were just beautiful.
Amber Fort is really a palace and is linked to Jaighur Fort by an 8km tunnel so that the palace could be evacuated easily in case of an attack. Jaighur Fort has the biggest cannon in the world which could shoot out a cannonball twenty miles. It was, apparently, only ever used once and that was on the test run. Needless to say, everybody was frightened into submission.
I think the cannon was probably big enough to shoot me out of.
One incredible thing about a lot of the palaces in India, is that although it looks like there are beautiful paintings on all the walls, they are actually inlaid precious gems.
I'm afraid this post won't include many pictures as you can see them all so beautifully laid out in the last post. But no fear, because my words shall paint a thousand pictures.The gates you can see in the last post's pics were all part of the Amber palace. Each of the four intricately gem-painted gates represented the four seasons. Our favourite was the peacock gate but so many people wanted a photo with it and our guide (a bossy little man) was telling us to move along, so I ended up doing one of those arm-as-far-away-as-you-can-say cheese spontaneous snaps of us. The result was minimal gate and a lot of chin(s). Needless to say, it will not be making an appearance on this blog.
The bazaars were a triumph. Bazaar does in fact come from a Middle Persian word (baha-char) which means 'the place of prices'. We had a lot of fun bartering the cheap prices down to ridiculously cheap prices. But by the end of our stay in India, and I never thought I would say this, we had seen enough ethnic rugs, jewels and wall hangings to last a lifetime. (And this is coming from the girl whose family squeal with delight every time an ESO (Ethnic Scarf Opportunity) occurs - yes, yes, that's right, we do even have an abbreviation for it).
Faye and I had seen spangly bangles on every street. In hundreds of colours and all glistening in the sun. They were an absolute must. We approached a stall in the street. There were some black glittery bangles that I loved. When I tried them on they fell off again. What with me having weedy wrists, this was going to prove problematic. Faye tried them on and they fitted her like a dream. But lo and behold, after turning my nose up at tacky red ones, the man found a smaller pair. He put six on my wrist. Faye asked how they came off. He said 'relax' and took them off. This process was repeated several times. Satisfied we bargained with him and got 6 each for 100 rupees (just over a pound). Smug as smug can be, we strutted off.
I will say now that it is a month since this day in Jaipur. A month. And every time I move, I jangle.
The bangles will simply not come off my wrist.
I have tried everything.
Dislocation of thumbs and severe bruising seems to be the only option. My friend managed to get one off my wrist but I put in back on again (What? The other five looked silly without the set).
Traditionally, Indian women would wear their bangles until they snapped off. The difference is, their bangles were made of wood. Mine are made of metal.
There is only one thing for it and that is to wear the bangles forever.
They do look beautiful.
But, quite frankly, the noise is starting to irritate me. And all of my colleagues.
p.s. We were persuaded to dress up in Saris by two short Indian men. They folded the sheets and then stuffed them down what should have been the front of our trousers.
Instead, they shoved the sheet down the front of my knickers, all the while saying 'no problem, no problem'. When all's said and done, it was a problem. What I might call, a bit gropey.
Sari looked cool though.
The reason for this was simple. There were 3 in fact.
Firstly, The elephants aren't well treated
Secondly, a tourist got trampled by an elephant whilst it carried them up to the fort.
Thirdly and pretty significantly.. we didn't see any elephants.
This was soon forgotten because the forts were just beautiful.
Amber Fort is really a palace and is linked to Jaighur Fort by an 8km tunnel so that the palace could be evacuated easily in case of an attack. Jaighur Fort has the biggest cannon in the world which could shoot out a cannonball twenty miles. It was, apparently, only ever used once and that was on the test run. Needless to say, everybody was frightened into submission.
I think the cannon was probably big enough to shoot me out of.
One incredible thing about a lot of the palaces in India, is that although it looks like there are beautiful paintings on all the walls, they are actually inlaid precious gems.
I'm afraid this post won't include many pictures as you can see them all so beautifully laid out in the last post. But no fear, because my words shall paint a thousand pictures.The gates you can see in the last post's pics were all part of the Amber palace. Each of the four intricately gem-painted gates represented the four seasons. Our favourite was the peacock gate but so many people wanted a photo with it and our guide (a bossy little man) was telling us to move along, so I ended up doing one of those arm-as-far-away-as-you-can-say cheese spontaneous snaps of us. The result was minimal gate and a lot of chin(s). Needless to say, it will not be making an appearance on this blog.
The bazaars were a triumph. Bazaar does in fact come from a Middle Persian word (baha-char) which means 'the place of prices'. We had a lot of fun bartering the cheap prices down to ridiculously cheap prices. But by the end of our stay in India, and I never thought I would say this, we had seen enough ethnic rugs, jewels and wall hangings to last a lifetime. (And this is coming from the girl whose family squeal with delight every time an ESO (Ethnic Scarf Opportunity) occurs - yes, yes, that's right, we do even have an abbreviation for it).
Faye and I had seen spangly bangles on every street. In hundreds of colours and all glistening in the sun. They were an absolute must. We approached a stall in the street. There were some black glittery bangles that I loved. When I tried them on they fell off again. What with me having weedy wrists, this was going to prove problematic. Faye tried them on and they fitted her like a dream. But lo and behold, after turning my nose up at tacky red ones, the man found a smaller pair. He put six on my wrist. Faye asked how they came off. He said 'relax' and took them off. This process was repeated several times. Satisfied we bargained with him and got 6 each for 100 rupees (just over a pound). Smug as smug can be, we strutted off.
I will say now that it is a month since this day in Jaipur. A month. And every time I move, I jangle.
The bangles will simply not come off my wrist.
I have tried everything.
Dislocation of thumbs and severe bruising seems to be the only option. My friend managed to get one off my wrist but I put in back on again (What? The other five looked silly without the set).
Traditionally, Indian women would wear their bangles until they snapped off. The difference is, their bangles were made of wood. Mine are made of metal.
There is only one thing for it and that is to wear the bangles forever.
They do look beautiful.
But, quite frankly, the noise is starting to irritate me. And all of my colleagues.
p.s. We were persuaded to dress up in Saris by two short Indian men. They folded the sheets and then stuffed them down what should have been the front of our trousers.
Instead, they shoved the sheet down the front of my knickers, all the while saying 'no problem, no problem'. When all's said and done, it was a problem. What I might call, a bit gropey.
Sari looked cool though.
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