The magical India, land of great emotions and strong contrasts

By bus, train and car from Delhi, Agra and Rajasthan, a wonderful experience and at the same time very hard, that you sign in and food for thought. Why India is fascinating and scary at the same time. And not be forgotten.

 

Agra

Arrival at "Indira Gandhi" in Delhi after an overnight flight and a delay of three hours kindly offered by Air India. But then, despite fears about the red bureaucracy, and a hint of a fight to the passport control desk between Indian officials and a particularly agitated, before nine o'clock in the morning we are ready to get on the taxi that would take us to the central bus station. The conditional is natural because the car is dilapidated, our driver living with his hands on the horn and drives like a madman, oblivious to the traffic rules and above all logic. But we are not facing a single crazy taxi driver that behaves exactly like everyone else. There are no directions, traffic lights or prohibited activities, the people behind the wheel is less than what he wants, and we inevitably get used. Although it is not easy to get used to the idea that a truck, or just a wagon pulled by a camel (which in India is a means of locomotion among the most popular), can suddenly show up in the middle of the road, against traffic, and demands well be right. But even this is India, and we must learn to get by in a hurry.
We learn quickly that even the central bus station in Delhi, which incidentally seems to stand for a miracle, no buses that leave for Agra, our first destination. A driver's motorische (a kind of apec that instead of the truck has two passenger seats covered with plastic sheeting, curiously Indians write rickshaw) offers to take us to the bus station just 100 rupees (one dollar and a half) . We trust, and all in all we do well, even if the bus on which we climb is the sad version of one of our local train. He stops every two miles to load people called obsessive "Agra Agra Agra» of the conductor, and dirty (but the first day we realized that almost anything is not), it moves slowly because it must avoid obstacles of any kind, and we also forced to take the rucksack between my legs. Also, of course, is without air conditioning, not a problem to be nothing in a place at 9 am there are already 35 degrees. After a terrible journey, that to make 250 kilometers, it takes 6 hours, we arrive at Agra. We watch the second fight of the day when the drivers motorische a fist fight to decide who will have the honor to take us to Hotel Sheela (good advice of Lonely Planet, even if no hot water, towels and toilet paper), where we spend the first two nights in India. Before we deserved sleep a short tour to Agra, doing something for the first time acquainted with the faces, houses, shops, roads, sewage, excrement and smells of this crazy country.
There is time also for the first course dinner: a rooftop restaurant with views of the Taj Mahal, where with 3 euro in two eat rice and chicken, the basis of our diet for 20 days, although I still do not know.
The next day we dedicate to visiting Agra: the Taj Mahal, the monument erected Muslim emperor Shah Jahan in 1631 for his wife Mumtaz Mahal, who died while giving birth to their 14th child. It 'definitely a symbol of India, seen and reviewed, it is still beautiful, stately, romantic. It's expensive, given that the entry costs 20 rupees for Indians but for foreigners 750 (14 euros, more than our hotel). Then we go to Agra Fort, another majestic sandstone building, while in the afternoon we visit Fathepur Sikri, abandoned stone city for centuries, it was the capital for a short period (1571 to 1585, then the lack of water has decreed the end) Moghul Empire that dominated this part of India.

A bit of green

The next morning we leave, because this car is not served by trains or buses, to Sawai Modphur: 5 hours to travel over 300 kilometers, leaving the state of Uttar Pradesh and Rajasthan enter a journey that here, too with the help of air conditioning, can be described as comfortable. A Sawai, where for 16 euros sleep nell'Anurag Resort (a complex of charming bungalows with lots of huge and beautiful pool), there is the entrance to Ranthambore National Park. We spend more than half a day at the park, and despite the 40 degrees it is definitely worth it. One enters from a gorge, where a tower, and a pond of crocodiles together, defended the entrance. In the park there is a ruined fortress, and several hunting lodge dating back to the Maharaja. Now these ruins are inhabited only by monkeys, and looking around you have the distinct impression that here 'The Jungle Book "is something very real. The monkeys are certainly not the only animals of this lush green park (a veritable oasis in the barren landscape of Rajasthan), which, in addition to a huge lake, is home to deer, antelope, buffalo, wild boar, an impressive number of birds and especially tigers. We have the luck to see one while bathing in a puddle of water. Thanks to our canter (a sort of jeep discovery, just a little 'bigger) even closer to no more than 10 meters to enjoy one of the most intense emotions of the whole trip.

The train to Udaipur

The same evening we leave Sawai, ugly city that offers nothing to Udaipur. Our train leaves at half past midnight, arriving at 9 am. Walking into a station in India at night is an experience that makes you think. We had already made my first deal with the poverty of this people, but we knew that the homeless congregate at the station to find a place to sleep: the square outside the entrance there are hundreds of people, some lying on a mat, others on a blanket, some directly in the ground, while police armed with sticks maintain public disorder.
We booked two berths in first class, and despite the flimsy seats, the sheets are wet or broken and the bathroom filthy, let us go on that train, knowing that all things have little to complain about.
Udaipur lies in southern Rajasthan, overlooking the shores of Lake Pichola, which pays the duty dry season showing stagnant in several places. But Udaipur is a fantastic city full of museums, Hindu temples, palaces and the splendid view of Lake haveli (a magnificent manor house, which often turned into good hotels such as ours Jagat Niwas), with narrow streets full of shops and restaurants, where you may happen to cross, in addition to the usual more or less sacred cows, elephants walking placidly among the narrow alleys.
And if the tourists are scarce here too because it is seasonal (as in Sawai we are the only hotel guests), which makes us the object of desire for a host of retailers, traders, brokers, business, rickshaw drivers, various and any of which we free ourselves more and more rudely, Udaipur is a beautiful city with so many defects of the Indian city, but beautiful.

Going to the desert

We can not say the same of Jodhpur, which reach a couple of days later, relying on a double-decker bus (so to speak, we are just at the top of the bunks), and in the regular 7 hours allows us to travel some 250 kilometers in an atmosphere nothing short of boiling. We are indeed at the beginning of the Thar desert, but the air conditioning is an option that we do not reserve even pay. And to think that we would have paid well.
Jodhpur with sites of extraordinary beauty, such as Mehrangarh, amazing fortress built 120 meters above the city where one can enjoy breathtaking views over the blue-painted houses all of the old area, the mausoleum of marahaja Jaswant Singh II, the Umaid Palace. But it is also a bustling city, dirty (if possible even more than the other), smelly, rendered uninhabitable by the heat and the insistence of one who has something to trim. Perhaps the fault is ours, because the cooler (a kind of air conditioner that has the water cooling) of our room is not working well and in India, under these conditions, we can not afford not to at least find solace in the hotel. Maybe we had to change room and maybe everything would have been easier, the impression of the different city. But we did, and two mornings later, when we started on the usual bus (and as usual we were the only tourists, and as usual we all looked like white flies, and as usual, someone wanted to actually touch), we Jodhpur left without regrets. Six hours later we arrived in Jaisalmer, a small town perched on a hill in the middle of the Thar desert, about 100 km from the border with Pakistan. The main attraction of the city is the fort which contains the old, in addition to small shops, restaurants and guest house. But we decide to stay on the outskirts because, says the guide, tourists sleeping in the fort contribute to soil degradation and water structure. We choose the immense Jawahar Niwas, a princely palace in sandstone, in the past, needless to say, the residence of Maharaja. We are once again the only customers and the goalkeeper, just to stop us, gives us a terrific room for 30 euros per night, cutting the price of 50% dry. Jaisalmer is a dream place, a magical city that seems to emerge from the sand (it is also called the Golden City because of the color), a city defended by more than 90 bastions that make it virtually impregnable. Inside one of these is the Little Italy, a lovely restaurant where you eat on the pillows. Indeed spaghetti with pesto and pizza are not bad, especially because they allow us to escape, for once, the key rice / spicy chicken. The second day we spend in Jaisalmer in the Thar: armed with plenty of water and turban on his head, with a jeep we advance deep into the desert. On our way, even the track, especially goats and camels, but also many villages of huts where, with the 40 degrees and the total absence of vegetation, it seems impossible that we could live.
Instead we live, and it is in one of those villages that come after three hours of jeep. They offer us tea and boiling water first to let us get on the camels that will lead us to the sand dunes. Tourism experience, of course, but made more interesting and true by the total absence of other passengers. We advance in the desert along with Akra, our young camels. Who speaks good English, something not all of these latitudes, and is kind and helpful. And I wonder how much my cell phone when she heard the beep of an incoming message is inappropriate. When I answered, a little 'uncomfortable (maybe I should explain that it is too much for me, which is a gift that does not deserve), which costs 15 thousand rupees, about $ 250, thinks for a bit' up and then I explains that the camels are not his and that he is paid to lead, but that one day, if you ever have so much money, you buy an animal and will get their own. Then I ask how much does a camel, and he said 20 thousand rupees. Only 300 euros, 300 euros but maybe enough to change his life. And that is for me a source of further embarrassment, as he attempts to articulate a thought decent if not intelligent. Akra is aware of it because maybe then change the subject tells me to be a Hindu and belonging to the caste of warriors (castes have been abolished long ago, but in reality they are still the basis of Indian society, the most important is that the priests Brahmins, then the warriors, then traders and artisans, then farmers, then the untouchables now defined belonging to Schedule Castes, Scheduled Castes protected). He tells me to have a girlfriend in another village, a girlfriend who has seen only once and he will marry next year, when it will make 23 years. After about two hours camel Akra us to dismount and leave us on the dunes to enjoy the sunset view while he collects wood for dinner. In the meantime we have reached the two guys with the jeep, which will help Akra in food preparation. On a makeshift camp cook rice with vegetables, cook the roti (an excellent bread that seems very thin piadina of Rimini), give us from mango peel and fresh water to drink. We have dinner there, together, in the sand, suspended in the clear and starry darkness of the night, surrounded by dung beetles (beautiful and harmless) that emerge from the sand.
Joins us with a pastor turban incredibly passing by, perhaps in the desert water and a little 'rice not deny anyone. Or is this stuff so much because we have paid us ...
After dinner we share for Jaisalmer. While we report Akra the village, and after having left a tip that I have earned an invitation to her wedding, I ask the camels. She explains that they had been left in the desert, where you will enjoy a night of freedom. The next day, if they are not returned on their own, he goes to retrieve them. We arrive at the hotel at ten in the evening, disheveled and sand right into the pants. But think again, if I were asked when does one have I felt happy, I could really answer that time in the Thar desert.

Jaipur, smells and colours

We can not say the same of Jodhpur, which reach a couple of days later, relying on a double-decker bus (so to speak, we are just at the top of the bunks), and in the regular 7 hours allows us to travel some 250 kilometers in an atmosphere nothing short of boiling. We are indeed at the beginning of the Thar desert, but the air conditioning is an option that we do not reserve even pay. And to think that we would have paid well.
Jodhpur with sites of extraordinary beauty, such as Mehrangarh, amazing fortress built 120 meters above the city where one can enjoy breathtaking views over the blue-painted houses all of the old area, the mausoleum of marahaja Jaswant Singh II, the Umaid Palace. But it is also a bustling city, dirty (if possible even more than the other), smelly, rendered uninhabitable by the heat and the insistence of one who has something to trim. Perhaps the fault is ours, because the cooler (a kind of air conditioner that has the water cooling) of our room is not working well and in India, under these conditions, we can not afford not to at least find solace in the hotel. Maybe we had to change room and maybe everything would have been easier, the impression of the different city. But we did, and two mornings later, when we started on the usual bus (and as usual we were the only tourists, and as usual we all looked like white flies, and as usual, someone wanted to actually touch), we Jodhpur left without regrets. Six hours later we arrived in Jaisalmer, a small town perched on a hill in the middle of the Thar desert, about 100 km from the border with Pakistan. The main attraction of the city is the fort which contains the old, in addition to small shops, restaurants and guest house. But we decide to stay on the outskirts because, says the guide, tourists sleeping in the fort contribute to soil degradation and water structure. We choose the immense Jawahar Niwas, a princely palace in sandstone, in the past, needless to say, the residence of Maharaja. We are once again the only customers and the goalkeeper, just to stop us, gives us a terrific room for 30 euros per night, cutting the price of 50% dry. Jaisalmer is a dream place, a magical city that seems to emerge from the sand (it is also called the Golden City because of the color), a city defended by more than 90 bastions that make it virtually impregnable. Inside one of these is the Little Italy, a lovely restaurant where you eat on the pillows. Indeed spaghetti with pesto and pizza are not bad, especially because they allow us to escape, for once, the key rice / spicy chicken. The second day we spend in Jaisalmer in the Thar: armed with plenty of water and turban on his head, with a jeep we advance deep into the desert. On our way, even the track, especially goats and camels, but also many villages of huts where, with the 40 degrees and the total absence of vegetation, it seems impossible that we could live.
Instead we live, and it is in one of those villages that come after three hours of jeep. They offer us tea and boiling water first to let us get on the camels that will lead us to the sand dunes. Tourism experience, of course, but made more interesting and true by the total absence of other passengers. We advance in the desert along with Akra, our young camels. Who speaks good English, something not all of these latitudes, and is kind and helpful. And I wonder how much my cell phone when she heard the beep of an incoming message is inappropriate. When I answered, a little 'uncomfortable (maybe I should explain that it is too much for me, which is a gift that does not deserve), which costs 15 thousand rupees, about $ 250, thinks for a bit' up and then I explains that the camels are not his and that he is paid to lead, but that one day, if you ever have so much money, you buy an animal and will get their own. Then I ask how much does a camel, and he said 20 thousand rupees. Only 300 euros, 300 euros but maybe enough to change his life. And that is for me a source of further embarrassment, as he attempts to articulate a thought decent if not intelligent. Akra is aware of it because maybe then change the subject tells me to be a Hindu and belonging to the caste of warriors (castes have been abolished long ago, but in reality they are still the basis of Indian society, the most important is that the priests Brahmins, then the warriors, then traders and artisans, then farmers, then the untouchables now defined belonging to Schedule Castes, Scheduled Castes protected). He tells me to have a girlfriend in another village, a girlfriend who has seen only once and he will marry next year, when it will make 23 years. After about two hours camel Akra us to dismount and leave us on the dunes to enjoy the sunset view while he collects wood for dinner. In the meantime we have reached the two guys with the jeep, which will help Akra in food preparation. On a makeshift camp cook rice with vegetables, cook the roti (an excellent bread that seems very thin piadina of Rimini), give us from mango peel and fresh water to drink. We have dinner there, together, in the sand, suspended in the clear and starry darkness of the night, surrounded by dung beetles (beautiful and harmless) that emerge from the sand.
Joins us with a pastor turban incredibly passing by, perhaps in the desert water and a little 'rice not deny anyone. Or is this stuff so much because we have paid us ...
After dinner we share for Jaisalmer. While we report Akra the village, and after having left a tip that I have earned an invitation to her wedding, I ask the camels. She explains that they had been left in the desert, where you will enjoy a night of freedom. The next day, if they are not returned on their own, he goes to retrieve them. We arrive at the hotel at ten in the evening, disheveled and sand right into the pants. But think again, if I were asked when does one have I felt happy, I could really answer that time in the Thar desert.

Delhi, no answer

We can not say the same of Jodhpur, which reach a couple of days later, relying on a double-decker bus (so to speak, we are just at the top of the bunks), and in the regular 7 hours allows us to travel some 250 kilometers in an atmosphere nothing short of boiling. We are indeed at the beginning of the Thar desert, but the air conditioning is an option that we do not reserve even pay. And to think that we would have paid well.
Jodhpur with sites of extraordinary beauty, such as Mehrangarh, amazing fortress built 120 meters above the city where one can enjoy breathtaking views over the blue-painted houses all of the old area, the mausoleum of marahaja Jaswant Singh II, the Umaid Palace. But it is also a bustling city, dirty (if possible even more than the other), smelly, rendered uninhabitable by the heat and the insistence of one who has something to trim. Perhaps the fault is ours, because the cooler (a kind of air conditioner that has the water cooling) of our room is not working well and in India, under these conditions, we can not afford not to at least find solace in the hotel. Maybe we had to change room and maybe everything would have been easier, the impression of the different city. But we did, and two mornings later, when we started on the usual bus (and as usual we were the only tourists, and as usual we all looked like white flies, and as usual, someone wanted to actually touch), we Jodhpur left without regrets. Six hours later we arrived in Jaisalmer, a small town perched on a hill in the middle of the Thar desert, about 100 km from the border with Pakistan. The main attraction of the city is the fort which contains the old, in addition to small shops, restaurants and guest house. But we decide to stay on the outskirts because, says the guide, tourists sleeping in the fort contribute to soil degradation and water structure. We choose the immense Jawahar Niwas, a princely palace in sandstone, in the past, needless to say, the residence of Maharaja. We are once again the only customers and the goalkeeper, just to stop us, gives us a terrific room for 30 euros per night, cutting the price of 50% dry. Jaisalmer is a dream place, a magical city that seems to emerge from the sand (it is also called the Golden City because of the color), a city defended by more than 90 bastions that make it virtually impregnable. Inside one of these is the Little Italy, a lovely restaurant where you eat on the pillows. Indeed spaghetti with pesto and pizza are not bad, especially because they allow us to escape, for once, the key rice / spicy chicken. The second day we spend in Jaisalmer in the Thar: armed with plenty of water and turban on his head, with a jeep we advance deep into the desert. On our way, even the track, especially goats and camels, but also many villages of huts where, with the 40 degrees and the total absence of vegetation, it seems impossible that we could live.
Instead we live, and it is in one of those villages that come after three hours of jeep. They offer us tea and boiling water first to let us get on the camels that will lead us to the sand dunes. Tourism experience, of course, but made more interesting and true by the total absence of other passengers. We advance in the desert along with Akra, our young camels. Who speaks good English, something not all of these latitudes, and is kind and helpful. And I wonder how much my cell phone when she heard the beep of an incoming message is inappropriate. When I answered, a little 'uncomfortable (maybe I should explain that it is too much for me, which is a gift that does not deserve), which costs 15 thousand rupees, about $ 250, thinks for a bit' up and then I explains that the camels are not his and that he is paid to lead, but that one day, if you ever have so much money, you buy an animal and will get their own. Then I ask how much does a camel, and he said 20 thousand rupees. Only 300 euros, 300 euros but maybe enough to change his life. And that is for me a source of further embarrassment, as he attempts to articulate a thought decent if not intelligent. Akra is aware of it because maybe then change the subject tells me to be a Hindu and belonging to the caste of warriors (castes have been abolished long ago, but in reality they are still the basis of Indian society, the most important is that the priests Brahmins, then the warriors, then traders and artisans, then farmers, then the untouchables now defined belonging to Schedule Castes, Scheduled Castes protected). He tells me to have a girlfriend in another village, a girlfriend who has seen only once and he will marry next year, when it will make 23 years. After about two hours camel Akra us to dismount and leave us on the dunes to enjoy the sunset view while he collects wood for dinner. In the meantime we have reached the two guys with the jeep, which will help Akra in food preparation. On a makeshift camp cook rice with vegetables, cook the roti (an excellent bread that seems very thin piadina of Rimini), give us from mango peel and fresh water to drink. We have dinner there, together, in the sand, suspended in the clear and starry darkness of the night, surrounded by dung beetles (beautiful and harmless) that emerge from the sand.
Joins us with a pastor turban incredibly passing by, perhaps in the desert water and a little 'rice not deny anyone. Or is this stuff so much because we have paid us ...
After dinner we share for Jaisalmer. While we report Akra the village, and after having left a tip that I have earned an invitation to her wedding, I ask the camels. She explains that they had been left in the desert, where you will enjoy a night of freedom. The next day, if they are not returned on their own, he goes to retrieve them. We arrive at the hotel at ten in the evening, disheveled and sand right into the pants. But think again, if I were asked when does one have I felt happy, I could really answer that time in the Thar desert.