Richard and I stayed for just one night in the city of Jai Singh. The next morning we set out bright and early in Bhupinder's Tata taxicab, heading south to Udaipur. Legend has it Udai Singh was blessed by a hermit on the site of the city's creation; he was told that it was an ideal place for a city, and so it turned out to be.
Udaipur is a city of lakes, the most famous of which is Lake Pichola, at the heart of which proudly stands the lake palace. Udaipur has something of an old-world charm to it, gentle and relaxing in a way I didn't experience again during my stay in India. We stayed at a hotel with magnificent views of the land around, and enjoyed our excursions into the city proper.
On a hill beyond the city is the Monsoon Palace, a decaying, melancholy building that served as a summer retreat for the Maharana when the city became too unbearable. We arrived as the Sun began to set, and the place was almost deserted. It was the most beautiful moment in a day saturated with beautiful moments, and I could have stretched it out for an eternity. As it was, no sooner had we arrived than we began our rapid descent back down the hill, Bhupinder with a crazed look in his eyes as we swerved around hairpin corners, dodging traffic and narrowly avoiding plummeting to a painful death time and again. You've got to love Indian driving.
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