travel journal: Udaipur

We've had a very relaxing few days in Udaipur, and can easily understand why so many Indians find it so romantic. Naturally with such atmosphere in this part of the world come droves of tourists and the accompaning concentration of vendors and guesthouses vying for the euros, dollars, and yen (and other less predominantly represented currencies) of the many visitors. Yesterday was another lazy day of meandering around the city. While many of the hundred of local shops offer the same carbon copies of traditional Rajasthani crafts (most of which are still quite beautiful), over the past few days we spent time few shops in the past few days that left lasting impressions of real value. Among other things, Udaipur is known for its history of producing small, unbelievably delicate miniature paintings, and there are countless shops and 'schools' offering them in various qualities. We spent a good half hour at the counter of one older man's small shop picking out a few painted cards from his students and admiring the unfathomably precise and expressive work that he and his family (he assured us that there were many generations of grandfathers whose footsteps he was following) had produced. I also spent some time in another craft ware shop politely smiling as a young salesman eagerly explained to me how a set of ornate folding knives were made of true Damascus steel, "only 1500 rupees!". Somehow I wasn't convinced.

We then proceeded to the enormous lakeside palace complex, forked up the steep (compared to previous palaces and forts) admission fee, and after being redirected several times upon entering the gates by a number of the many identically costumed guards, found our way into the palace museum. While our recently re-scaled sense of Indian palace grandeur may have dulled the experience a bit, it was a nice time none the less.

These poor little guys are all over the city doing much of the heavy lifting

Jag Niwas island, formerly hosting the Maharaj's summer palace, which is now a fancy schmancy hotel

Many smaller rooms were covered in mirrors

The royal swing?

The *other* royal throne

I don't even know. Note the feet.

I really appreciate that the common representation of the sun god has a sweet mustache

Heh.

We spent the rest of our afternoon sorting through the mess that is the pool of online information about accommodation in Mumbai. We had been counting on contacts from our lovely hosts in Bikaner to produce a well priced, comfortable stay, but that turned out to fall through. We finally had some success (we'll see) and our feeling that we were dearly overpaying was assuaged a bit by the free airport pick up after our 9:15PM arrival.

After a touch a research we found ourselves in an enchanting, soft lit courtyard for dinner, buried behind a huge, aged Haveli a nice 15 minutes walk from our hotel. This was our first splurge dinner in a while (at $14 for the two of us), which seems to be a pattern of ours when we start feeling pre-sentimental for a country's food in anticipation of our departure. A few tandoori roti, jeera rice, mutton seekh kebabs (although I think they came out as chicken), butter chicken and palak ki sabzi (which ended up being palak paneer). The food was incredible rich, deeply spiced, and just about everything we wanted from a send-off Northern Indian dinner (despite the heavy hand with salt in the kitchen). Sorry for the lack of pictures, we've slacked off a bit in India, primarily because most of the food here does not photograph too well.

We got ourselves organized this morning, checked out, stowed our bags with the hotel before having a light breakfast. We set off on our last slow wander through the narrow streets of the city, heading a bit further out from the tourism center that concentrates around the palace. After a bit of random window shopping we found our way into the darkness of what turned out to be one of our favorite shops we've spent time in during this whole trip. It was floor to high ceiling packed with hundreds and hundreds of various wood carved tools, toys, miniatures, boxes, chess and backgammon sets, antique tin toys, marble carvings, and my favorite - hand made puzzles. The owner explained to us that the shop was opened by his father in 1962 at the age of 15, and after starting there at the same age year later, he has since taken over. After being introduced to a number of small puzzles - a wooden box that only opens if gripped a certain way, a snake like chain of wooden cubes that can be assembled into one larger Rubiks-like cube if twisted and arranged in just the right way, and a few seemingly ordinary metal locks that can only be opened by some discrete trick. I was able to mildly impress him by solving most of them (save one lock) quickly, and we proceeded to enjoy his explanations of how he and his 6 workers spend many hours a week over masala chai contemplating new puzzle ideas and working through their production. It was wonderful to find a place that offers such a unique niche of craftsmanship, and it was a true pleasure to spend time in the presence with such pride and enjoyment in it. I happily accepted his offer of a cup of chai while he eagerly showed us a wealth of other crafts and we ended our time there with a good-natured session of haggling over a few choice items (no surprises revealed here, sorry!).

Following the same street further, we were quickly enveloped in the incredible, rich smell of various butter and sugar confections cooking away street side. We couldn't help but pick up a few.