Jodhpur: “Sir, shall I call your tuk-tuk?”
March 16, 2007
We had been here to Jodhpur in 1995, but it’s safe to say that it’s changed. Wow – the place is far more built up, and the population has increased dramatically. Then as now, the main attraction here is the 500-year-old Meherangarh Fort, which impressively towers over the city. Included in the price of admission of the fort was an audio tour. We’ve done a few of those audio tours at various places around the world, and have rarely been impressed. Well, this one was different, and it just brought the place to life: The huge iron nails sticking out of the door on the main gate of the fort, which were intended to keep elephants from breaking down the door; and the handprints of 15 of the Maharajah’s wives who immolated themselves on the funeral pyre of Man Singh in 1843.
From the Fort there are great views over the city. Jodhpur is known as the “Blue City” as many of the homes are painted blue, and this is very much evident as you look out from the fort.
At night they serve dinner on top of the fort, and that’s where we had our 15th anniversary dinner. Environment was great, view was fabulous, food was ok, and wine was terrible (as expected, given that India is not famed for it’s wine!).
Better food was served in, of all places, the retiring room at Jodhpur station. That was our dining staple when we were here last, and to my surprise Hernandez was anxious to go back. There’s absolutely nothing romantic about Indian train stations – they are often truly miserable places - but Jodhpur station was very tolerable. The retiring room served good, simple food at a very cheap price. And, it has atmosphere, as it looked like it hadn’t been touched since the British left in 1947.
At the other end of the spectrum, we splurged for a cocktail in the luxury of Umaid Bhawan Palace. This is a relatively new palace, built in the 1930's, and has been converted into a 350 room hotel. Liz Hurley just had a huge wedding there in the past week or so. So, we put on our best clothes and hired an auto-rickshaw (or tuk-tuk) to take us there. If you haven't been in a tri-shaw, then you haven't lived. It’s a 3-wheeled black and yellow contraption, with a motor about the size of a lawnmower. They are loud, and you feel that you should get out and push whenever you come upon a hill of any size. They get you around, but certainly not in elegance.
Our tuk-tuk was certainly no way to enter the palace, so we had our driver stop a discrete distance away from the front gate so that we could walk in. Through the gate we go, past peacocks grazing on the massive lawns, and up the red carpeted stairs with the brass handrails. We 'namaste'd' (hello) our way past the uniformed Sikh doorman, and confidently walked into an enormous lobby with a dome that seemed as large as the capitol in Washington DC.
We made our way to the "Trophy Bar," a room with mahogany walls, big overstuffed chairs, and lots of animal heads looking down on us. There were four tigers, four antelope and two water buffalo. The water buffalo were particularly hard to comprehend: They don't seem able to move very fast, and they’re always just standing around by the side of the road, so it seems strange to put their stuffed heads on a wall in a "Trophy Bar." It would loosely be akin to putting a cow's head in a trophy room in the US, and I'm struggling to think of the last time I saw that....
Anyway, we ordered a beer and a glass of red wine…and tried to keep from choking at the $23 tab. Despite the high price and the posh surroundings, we knew we were still in India as the waiter kept coughing over the snacks he brought to the tables.
So we sat quietly, sipping our pricey drinks and speaking in hushed tones (the room almost called for it), and then got up to leave. We walked through the marble lobby and 'danyava'd and namaste'd' (thank you, goodbye), past the doorman. He gave us a deep bow, but you could see that he was thinking, "hmmmm, they are leaving, but no one called for their car, so how are they leaving? Should I send someone out to follow them to help them to their car?" I certainly doubt that this fellow had ever baritoned “Sir, may I call your tuk-tuk,” and I didn’t intend to be the first.
We walked out, acting like we belonged, down the red carpeted stairs and out on to the now dark driveway. I pulled out my flashlight (doesn't everyone staying at a 5-star hotel carry one?) and we walked to the car park where we expected our trishaw to be waiting for us. He was not there. We deduced that tuk-tuks were probably banished from the grounds, and sure enough out the gate and down the road sat our guy. Just in case anyone was watching, we got into the trishaw with as much aplomb as we could muster, and held our heads high while he started-up the obnoxious engine, and we puttered away into the night.
Jodhpur is in the heart of Rajasthan, and the people tend to be more exotic here than in Udaipur, and certainly moreso than Mumbai. The women tend to wear bright saris with lots of heavy jewelry (bracelets, nose rings, belts, anklets, and head gear), and the men wear turbans of various colors depending on their tribe, ranging from white, red, hot pink, to traffic cone orange. The older men usually have curly Rajasthani mustaches and preen them CONSTANTLY. And of course, many also wear the jootis (pointy-toed shoes) that range from everyday leather to beautifully embroidered dress shoes.
Vibrant colored fabrics and clothing are everywhere in Jodhpur, and in the state of Rajasthan in general. Michelle loved the bedspreads and other fabrics in the rooms of our Ratan Vilas hotel (which was great!), and the manager informed her that she bought them at a store called Thar Handloom. We hired a trishaw, and headed there; a place where tourists seldom, if ever, frequent. We walked in, and we all stared at each other until Hernandez said "block print," and then they ushered us upstairs.
When we got there, there were eight men standing around. "Please sit down madam" (Michelle is always called madam here). "Oh, no thank you, can I please just look," she said. Well, actually, no.
The way it works is that you sit down and tell them what you want, and four of the guys climb ladders and throw down items, and the four other guys below spread out the items for you to inspect, all while another guy runs off to bring you chai masala. You sit like a Maharaja, drink your chai, and point at the things you like. Everyone was certainly happier for this shopping excursion: Michelle bought everything in sight, and we’ll now get in shape by lugging around an additional bag that weighs about 70 pounds!
Bob’s ratings (1 = terrible, 5 = ok, 10 = fantastic)
- Jodhpur overall: 6
- Meherangarh Fort (with audio tour): 8
- Jaswant Thada (Maharajah tomb): 7
- Ratan Vilas hotel: 9 (as midrange hotels go)
- Thar Handloom: 9 (if you’re shopping for block prints)
- Restaurant at Jodhpur station: 6 (if you're after cheap food)
- Umaid Bhawan Trophy Lounge: 4 (nice surroundings, but don't justify the price)
Next - Phalodi/Khichan: "No birds, no camel rides, no sand dunes!"