130 Camels to Jaipur

Second Leg: India-Delhi and Jaipur

 

I was not looking forward to flying over the Indian Ocean. Flights over water terrify me, yet I do them often enough you’d think I’d get over it.

 

The flight from Kuala Lumpur to Delhi was something like 6 hours, but it felt much shorter because I sat next to a wonderful woman. Her name was Emma, and she is married to an Indian citizen, has spent a lot of time in India, and thus was able to give me some great tips. We eventually moved on to swapping travel stories and I was left with an even greater thirst to travel (Sneak peak: I’m already thinking about my next adventure!). However, based on what she told me, she has a pretty cushy life (husband is the son of a diplomat, now a businessman, private schools in Sweden growing up, she’s a marketing advisor, yadda yadda yadda), so it’s going to be hard to catch up. However, I have youth on my side.

 

Anyway, first impressions of Delhi were: Good lord this place is foggy. What’s that you say? Indeed, it does smell like a campground. Oh, you mean that’s smoke? Not from a fire but from multiple fires? Fires people light on the streets to keep them warm? Garbage fires? Oh, excellent! Jolly good!

 

After waiting for Ron and Meagan to arrive, we piled into the car and headed into the city. Our driver, Mr. Singh, casually said, ‘’ Indian drivers need 3 things: Good brakes, good horn, and good luck’’.

 

He wasn’t kidding. There are no rules to driving in India. Sudden lane merging, passing, going against traffic, going with traffic, using blinkers, using horns, driving on the sidewalk, crossing 6 lanes of traffic because you missed your turn, splitting lanes- it’s all optional and practically required to drive like a lunatic. By the time we reached the hotel I was trying not to lose my dinner.



Counting stacks

We had a mad counting spree with our strange new monopoly money, paid off our tour, and then went to bed.

 

The next morning, we began our drive to Jaipur. There were many ‘Horrified Teigan Faces’ made, we saw multiple vehicles with people hanging onto the runners while driving at freeway speeds, nearly crashed into herds of camels/cows/men/children/women/cars, and eventually counted the distance down to Jaipur in the local equivalent: camels (it’s approximately 130 camels from Delhi to Jaipur). Many laughs were had and Mr. Singh probably thought we were insane for shrieking every time we saw a camel.

 

Jaipur was cleaner, I could breathe, and the city was lovely. Our doorman, nicknamed Beardy Moustachey, was a sweet fellow who called me Madame like the married Frenchwoman I am not. How did this even start, considering India was a British colony? I digress.

 

Christmas morning dawned early, with someone pounding on the door. Turns out, Santa even visits when you are away on holiday!

   After breakfast we drove to the Amer Fort. I am not going to give detailed history lessons this time, so if you are interested in more detail I suggest you see what Dr. Google has to say.　Suffice to say, it was the palace of the Rajput Maharajas and was built about 500 years ago. We debated riding elephants to the summit, had bindi placed on our foreheads after visiting a temple, avoided beggars and hawkers, tried on saree while viewing traditional textile making, took an elephant ride on the outskirts of the city, went to the astronomical instrument palace of Jantar Mantar where several Indians randomly asked to take photos with me and I came to the conclusion that Indian schoolgirls are just as giggly and excitable as their Japanese counterparts.

The view from Amer Fort

I'm kinda 'saree' I didn't buy one





The best part of the day was made when our Tour Guide, also named Mr. Singh, took us to his house. We had expressed interest in henna and kite flying, and we just assumed he was taking us to another touristy spot.

He introduced us to his wife, his brothers, his sister in law and his adorable children. His wife was absolutely stunning, spoke no English, and made the most delicious masala tea I drank in all of India. Ron attempted a kite flying battle with the boys while us ladies had henna drawn on by his daughter and sister in law.

Being invited into his home spur of the moment was such a wonderful experience. It was definitely the least ‘touristy’ thing we did, and was eye-opening simply sharing a few hours the way most Indians live their lives normally.

Painted and pretty

Definitely a great Christmas.