In the time before the British, and certainly before Gandhi, India was a country dominated by a caste system: everyone had an assigned place and role in society. The most religious caste were the brahmin. As a form of identification, they painted the walls of their house a wonderfully deep blue colour; one benefit the paint offered was as a natural mosquito repellent, and soon many houses were lavishly painted blue, on one wall if not more.
One city that gained a certain level of recognition for this (as well as for the riding boots that bear its name) is Jodhpur, the blue city. Having left Udaipur, Richard and I travelled back north, where we stayed at a kind of boutique hotel, called Newton's Manor. Mr Newton himself put in an appearance often, but it wasn't until well into our first awkward conversation that I discovered his identity. Mr Newton, a christened Indian running a Christian hotel, was a quiet man who expressed himself most powerfully by saying little; unfortunately, what little he said to me left me with the impression that he had little to say. The hotel contained many personal touches that a less-exhausted traveller would have revelled in; the familiarity of the staff, the way the bedroom doors didn't close, the way the bathroom doors had clear plastic running down their length and offered no privacy, but Richard and I were too tired to care and besides, it was August, pretty much the hottest month of the year in Rajasthan.
Richard had begun to suffer from the heat. We drank obsessively - bottled water, always with the cap intact when we bought it - but still it was not enough, and so Richard spent the day in bed whilst I went out to explore Jodhpur with Bhupinder, my reluctant guide. I think Bhupinder preffered Richard's company, and I'm not surprised. My face can be so unexpressive; it takes a lot of effort on my part to smile or look happy, and in the heat I felt my facial muscles strain and give up and it must have looked like I was permanently angry. Nothing could have been further from the truth.
There are four highlights, must-see wonders in Jodhpur that it would be a shame to miss. The last of these, Umaid Bhavan Palace is the most modern palace in India, and one of the last great classical architectural enterprises in the country. We visited it late in the day, so fortunately Richard had recovered enough to see it. We also returned to one of the earlier treasures, Jaswant Thada, a delicate marble memorial for Maharaja Jaswant Singh II, who is interred in a tomb within this cenotaph.
The two most outstanding sights in Jodhpur are found at the same location, interestingly right next to Jaswant Thada. Mehrangarh Fort was never taken by an attacking force, until the British claimed it as our own and walked right in. It dominates the skyline of Jodhpur and is as intimidating on its inside as it is without. However, what made it special for me, and on that day sadly only for me, was the view it offered of the Blue City below, the picture you can see at the top of this entry. As I stood on the ramparts of the fortress, a cool breeze sweeping over me that felt like a thousand kisses, I imagined myself to be a scholar-warrior, home from my battles to take leisure in my studies of the world. As with my experience at the Monsoon Palace in Udaipur, this is one of the moments in my life that I hold onto most dearly. They are moments that could never be wholly replicated, or even described, but that is the wonder and the priveledge of experiencing them.
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