Being led

That was just what I wanted: A great breakfast buffet with porridge, cereal, fresh fruit juice, omelett and lots of other tasty treats. The place had big windows with a view of the garden and the pool and the waiters were very attentive. I certainly did a couple of passes round the buffet, but after finishing breakfast didn't lose much time, grabbed my bag and stepped out on the street. A highway actually, with no shops or pedestrians, just traffic. Two cows were quietly walking down a lane, getting passed by buses and cars. I started wondering if there was any chance of catching a cab out here, but before I could finish my thought a motor rickshaw stopped and the silhouette of a driver waved at me.

His introduced himself as Justin. He could have passed for a pirate with his beard and rough voice. Maybe it was also in his quick reactions and easygoing attitude. "Amber" I told him quite simply is where I want to go, but didn't mind when he made unasked stops on the way: On an intersection where I got a view of the Tiger Fort, in front of the Palace of the Wind and at a viewpoint of the Water Palace. After we rusty vehicle had climbed the hills in the North quite slowly and noisily he dropped me off without charge and said he'd wait until I come back; there would otherwise be no taxi opportunities from Amber to Jaipur.

I took a look around: The view of the Amber Palace and the Jaigarh Fort in the morning sun was simply stunning. The Fort was stretching over the mountain top, watching over the Palace located at a lower level and further to the right. A protection wall connected numerous watchtowers on the surrounding hills. What kind of wealth and greed and war and labor this place must have seen!

I had only made a few steps towards the bottom gate when an official guide introduced himself. He wasn't the youngest, but looked sincere, with some kind of Clint Eastwood smile. He suggested 150 Rupees, which was a good price according to the LP travel guide. There were also elephant rides up the path to the palace, but I decided to walk. The path reminded me of a ghost train ride: Along the steps sat beggars, and when we apporached the silhouettes would start to move and howl.

Clint Eastwood turned out to be very patient (I always take some time when shooting pictures) and enduring, explaining things slowly and repeatedly (without asking). It seemed he really enjoyed his job as a proud facilitator of his heritage. He was also pleased to hear that I knew the story of Ganesh and Shiva. - While we were on a watchtower of the palace I asked him if it would be possible to go see the fort as well. It looked just too majestic up there on the hilltop and it couldn't be too far. - How much? I was surprised to hear "Same price."

We left the palace and took a right turn to the fort. For the fact that there was a traffic access on the back side of the enclosure this path was rarely travelled by tourists. In the early days the Maharaja would commute on these cobblestones by horse or elephant. But apart from the historic appeal the way also offered a number of beautiful views! - Which were a good excuse to take a breather. Much to my surprise my 57 year old guide actually didn't show much effort at all doing the climb in the hot midday sun.

The fort contained basically another palace, some room for all the army muscle, and a huge tank for water supply.

We had reached the end of our tour, all we would have to do now is go the same way back. But first I needed a snack at the restaurant up there. I repeatedly invited Clint for lunch, but he only asked for tea. The room was simple and very empty. I gave the waiter a bit of an attitude asking why there were no guests, and he immediately backed up the quality of the food with laminated press reports and pictures of the cook, as far as I understood a royal cook, a living legend and incredibly old. - It was very tasty indeed.

Back in the valley my guide also took me for a demonstration of vegetable color prints. This quite obviously served the purpose to get me in shopping mood in the stuffed handicrafts shop in the back, home to camel leather shoes, jewelery, statuettes etc. without end. They lured me to the very back with the prospect of seeing "the world's second largest Taj Mahal". And indeed, that thing made of white marble was huge. And not for sale. But the world's smallest Taj Mahal would be! - I told them they had the wrong guy and politely disappeared.

I handed Clint 300 Rupees, after all I had two tours.

Justin and his taxi were still waiting. Because he didn't want to miss my return he hadn't eaten and was a bit short tempered, so I gave him a banana I had bought for the way back. Although I had plans to follow the walking tour through the inner city and I was with less than 4 remaining hours of sunlight already a bit late for that matter I agreed to go round a carpet workshop on the way back. I got a relaxed tour of the facilities and a thorough explanation of the processes involved in the carpet production, followed by a presentation of some really nice carpets. But again, I told them: Not for me. They continued with a presentation of all kinds of silk fabrics, until Justin, hungry and all, interrupted: "Ok, let's go!" and pulled me out of there.

He dropped me at the gate to the Pink City. Like many people in Jaipur he told me to give him whatever I wanted and he would be happy with that. But apparently I was a bit too cheap, so he just demanded 1500.- Rupees.

I ventured into the bazaar-stricken city. Lots of workshops, cows, motorcycles. Eventually I passed at a barber shop and decided to go in. My hair needed a trim and I was unable to shave that morning because my razor had broken in my toilet case. I hadn't been to a hair dresser in more than a decade, so it was about time to get pampered again! And pampered I got. After the haircut and the shave the guy all of a sudden started to massage my arms, cracked every single of my fingers and my neck, too. Head massage, face massage, the full program.

There's something to be said about Indians: They're always impeccably groomed. You see poor people brush their teeth in the streets in the morning, some having their shave down by a roadside barber, sitting on the pavement. You won't find a messy neckline ever.

Relaxed and refreshed I left the shop again. The sun was already setting at this point, so I would have definitely to end my walking tour for the day. A Krishna temple was nearby and I went in. The caretaker, a short roundish guy with mustache, received me. Unfortunately there wasn't much to see. He took me up to the roof and flew a kite while we talked. Apparently everybody flies a kite in the evening breeze in Jaipur! Numerous paper squares joined the flocks of birds in the sky above. - He told me about his believe that his God would punish him if he ate meat, about his favorite Guru that could be in two places at once and so on. When I asked him about a good restaurant in the neighborhood he invited me to stay for dinner with his family, but I politely declined. Finally he tried to sell me some handicrafts in his art shop, but that didn't work out either. - A pattern emerged: The Jaipur way of dealing was obviously to involve visitors into a friendly conversation, then start showing handicrafts with "no pressure to buy", and if they didn't guilt-trip them with a disappointed look.

I left the old city and found my way to "Niro's", a somewhat uptight looking and pricey, but also friendly, fast and truly delicious restaurant.

After much discussion which way to go a bike rickshaw drove me in less than five minutes to the nearby internet cafe. Again a vexed look when I paid the guy 20 Rupees. - Just what did he expect? The motor rickshaw that finally brought me back to the hotel was also struggling finding the way. I was glad to finally get to rest... It had been a long and eventful day.