And so we were alone.
And when I say alone, I mean, we were abandoning the group (and the amazing Tucan Travel tour leader) to go onwards by ourselves for a week.
(Although, truth be told, we were to meet up with the group the day after but this doesn't quite have the same dramatic effect.)
So we boarded a bus. Naturally, I slept. And after 4 or so hours the bus came to a standstill. Unfortunately, not at the place in which the bus was meant to stand still.
We got out. The bus driver (who had been tipped to look after us) had acquired selective hearing it seemed and soon Faye and I were really alone, on a dusty road with REALLY heavy backpacks after having stocked up on Christmas presents in Jaipur.
We began to walk.
The bags were heavy.
It was dusty.
It was hot as a bitch.
So we went into a hotel, pretended not to have phones and got the hotel man to ring our 'contact'. The amazing thing about having an amazing tour leader is that they know people. And these people are helpful. This particular man, whose name I have momentarily misplaced, told us not to worry, he would be along in a minute to give us a lift to the hotel.
The lift was on the back of a motorbike.
With no helmet.
Apart from a near death experience for my Karrimor bag, a fun time was had by all.
We got to the hotel, where we were greeted like old friends. We had come for a very important couple of days. 'Twas the Pushkar Camel Festival. Now Pushkar is a stunning city to visit even when the festival isn't happening. It is in the desert, set around a beautiful lake and the lake is considered sacred. According to Hindu mythology, the demon Vajranabha was going to kill Lord Brahma's children and so Brahma killed the demon with a lotus-flower. As the petals fell to the ground, a spring of water emerged and the lake of Pushkar was born (flower (pushpa) from hand (kar).) Pushkar is in fact the only site in India to house the temple of Brahma. There are 52 bathing ghats and around 500 Hindu temples surrounding the lake. Pilgrims come from far and wide to bathe in this sacred place and the water is said to cure skin disease and cleanse people of their sins.
There are two photos below. It clearly said in painted block capitals on a wall TOURISTS NO PHOTOGRAPHS but I couldn't help a couple of sneaky ones. I got told off. I have never liked being told off, but this was worth it. As they are particularly sneaky, they don't capture the full magical chaos of the bathing pools. There was one for men and a couple for women and children and it was just madness. Beautiful madness.
We had been warned to keep our hands closed at all times. As soon as we opened them, somebody would place a flower inside our hand and we would be obliged to place it on the lake as an offering. We soon found a way to cheat the system. We found flowers from the floor and went past the guards with our flowers to the lakeside where we obligingly removed our shoes and began to wander amongst the vast array of bright orange floating flowers and the splashing pilgrims.
But we were foiled, and soon accosted by men in white robes. 'Priests' they called themselves. I was cynical. Faye was cynical. We knew that at some point they would ask for money. But they were insistent.
We sat by the lake. Or in fact, we sat on a kind of stone wall between two lakes. There was no escape. We chanted back everything they said in Hindi. They put rice and coloured dye on our foreheads. We put our flower into the lake and prayed for our family. The "priest" produced a coconut.* He said "lovely jubbly, sound as a pound". I felt edgy. He asked me how many members of my family I had. 3, said I. He asked me to pay some money for the upkeep of the lake or orphans or something. I was assured nothing would go in his pocket. I had had a jolly old time and it was an interesting experience. So I offered him some rupees. Apparently not enough. He said 'you joking?'. I said 'no'. It went on. I got up to leave. He asked me for £5-10 per family member. I said he should stop being rude. He then wanted my original donation offer back. Not on your nelly. It is never nice to have an altercation. Especially when you have walked straight into it. We left shame-facedly
But still a bit smug. Because we each had a bindi.
To be continued...
* I am still unsure as to to the significance of said coconut.
And when I say alone, I mean, we were abandoning the group (and the amazing Tucan Travel tour leader) to go onwards by ourselves for a week.
(Although, truth be told, we were to meet up with the group the day after but this doesn't quite have the same dramatic effect.)
So we boarded a bus. Naturally, I slept. And after 4 or so hours the bus came to a standstill. Unfortunately, not at the place in which the bus was meant to stand still.
We got out. The bus driver (who had been tipped to look after us) had acquired selective hearing it seemed and soon Faye and I were really alone, on a dusty road with REALLY heavy backpacks after having stocked up on Christmas presents in Jaipur.
We began to walk.
The bags were heavy.
It was dusty.
It was hot as a bitch.
So we went into a hotel, pretended not to have phones and got the hotel man to ring our 'contact'. The amazing thing about having an amazing tour leader is that they know people. And these people are helpful. This particular man, whose name I have momentarily misplaced, told us not to worry, he would be along in a minute to give us a lift to the hotel.
The lift was on the back of a motorbike.
With no helmet.
Apart from a near death experience for my Karrimor bag, a fun time was had by all.
We got to the hotel, where we were greeted like old friends. We had come for a very important couple of days. 'Twas the Pushkar Camel Festival. Now Pushkar is a stunning city to visit even when the festival isn't happening. It is in the desert, set around a beautiful lake and the lake is considered sacred. According to Hindu mythology, the demon Vajranabha was going to kill Lord Brahma's children and so Brahma killed the demon with a lotus-flower. As the petals fell to the ground, a spring of water emerged and the lake of Pushkar was born (flower (pushpa) from hand (kar).) Pushkar is in fact the only site in India to house the temple of Brahma. There are 52 bathing ghats and around 500 Hindu temples surrounding the lake. Pilgrims come from far and wide to bathe in this sacred place and the water is said to cure skin disease and cleanse people of their sins.
There are two photos below. It clearly said in painted block capitals on a wall TOURISTS NO PHOTOGRAPHS but I couldn't help a couple of sneaky ones. I got told off. I have never liked being told off, but this was worth it. As they are particularly sneaky, they don't capture the full magical chaos of the bathing pools. There was one for men and a couple for women and children and it was just madness. Beautiful madness.
We had been warned to keep our hands closed at all times. As soon as we opened them, somebody would place a flower inside our hand and we would be obliged to place it on the lake as an offering. We soon found a way to cheat the system. We found flowers from the floor and went past the guards with our flowers to the lakeside where we obligingly removed our shoes and began to wander amongst the vast array of bright orange floating flowers and the splashing pilgrims.
But we were foiled, and soon accosted by men in white robes. 'Priests' they called themselves. I was cynical. Faye was cynical. We knew that at some point they would ask for money. But they were insistent.
We sat by the lake. Or in fact, we sat on a kind of stone wall between two lakes. There was no escape. We chanted back everything they said in Hindi. They put rice and coloured dye on our foreheads. We put our flower into the lake and prayed for our family. The "priest" produced a coconut.* He said "lovely jubbly, sound as a pound". I felt edgy. He asked me how many members of my family I had. 3, said I. He asked me to pay some money for the upkeep of the lake or orphans or something. I was assured nothing would go in his pocket. I had had a jolly old time and it was an interesting experience. So I offered him some rupees. Apparently not enough. He said 'you joking?'. I said 'no'. It went on. I got up to leave. He asked me for £5-10 per family member. I said he should stop being rude. He then wanted my original donation offer back. Not on your nelly. It is never nice to have an altercation. Especially when you have walked straight into it. We left shame-facedly
But still a bit smug. Because we each had a bindi.
To be continued...
* I am still unsure as to to the significance of said coconut.
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