Bangalore Buzz: Agra, Jaipur and Ranthambore

chillibreeze writer — KC Komal
(taken from Expat Newsletter: Bangalore Breeze)

Michael Palin I am not, and travelogues and descriptions of journeys through India pack every bookstore and library, so I will keep the tourist chatter to the minimum. Used to logging onto Orbitz or one of the other travel websites I didn't even know how to start planning a trip around India.

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I finally just walked into the nearest franchise of a chain of travel agents. I found that the travel agent here is no more than a booking agent, they offer no advice on hotels to stay at, and suggest no itineraries and other than telling you the cheapest fare available, do not help plan the trip at all. Faced with unfamiliar hotel names I finally just picked a famous Indian chain, and flights that seemed to have decent timings. Used to trans-Pacific and trans-continental flights, a three hour hop to Delhi seemed fine. It was only later that I found out that three hours was a long flight to Delhi and a non-stop would have been even shorter. The travel agent hadn't felt the need to inform me of that!

We were amused to see that the inflight snack was totally American, we were served Subway sandwiches, Lays potato chips and a soda! Ha! In America we would have gotten a measly packet of peanuts and a drink if we were lucky.

Agra:

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Arriving at Delhi, we hop into our waiting pre-hired taxi and head straight out to Agra. We hit no traffic on the multi-laned Agra-Delhi freeway, and plan to head straight to the hotel. Our driver urges us to stop at Sikandra even though it is almost dusk and I really want to get to the hotel before dinner time. We pass through the massive gates and my heart leaps at the achingly beautiful world within. Near closing time, we are almost the only people there. The tiled central walkway is flanked by blue-green lawns, where herds of deer are grazing. Rabbits lope past, and the silence is only broken by the harsh eerie cry of the peacocks strutting all around us. In front of us is a square masculine mausoleum haunting in its stark symmetry, the dusky reds of the brick glowing against the evenings sky. It is a magical moment.

It is but a couple of days after Diwali and the town is still in party mode. Houses are lit up with strands of lights, and at night from our hotel room we can see fireworks being let off all over the city. The next morning I hustle the family to see the Taj, for I know that the marble has as many moods as the hours in a day and I want the kids to see the pearly translucent glow the building takes by twilight. I worry that having seen the Taj endlessly replicated on travel brochures, magazines and even tea cartons, the children will find it anti-climactic, even disappointing. But legends are made for a reason. Like the Mona Lisa, the Taj lives up to expectation. The kids are awed by it, and no amount of de-construction of it's symmetry and appeal can explain the visceral response when you first see it. We have been warned that peddlers and beggars were going to badger us on the way to and back from the monument, but perhaps because of the earliness of the hour, we are left well alone. I do overhear one couple nervously decide to dog our footsteps (safety in numbers?) but the peace is unbroken.

Jaipur:

The drive is long and fairly dull. The biggest change in India for me is the availability of clean restrooms along the way. Gas stations are cottoning on to the idea that people who stop for gas will gladly spend money for clean restrooms, a quick snack and a convenience store. As we near Jaipur we start seeing not only increasing numbers of camels but villages decorated with amazingly intricate folk art. A glorious desert sunset blazes before us and I am excited to see the pink city aglow in this light. But a huge disappointment awaits us, as a rundown, seedy city is revealed behind the narrow cliffs that flank the road. Grimy, sooty walls hint at the faded pink walls that gave the city its name, and there is an air of sordid poverty every where. Where are the tourist dollars and pounds going, certainly not in city maintenance. The hotel is magnificent though but my heart is sinking at the thought of staying in Jaipur for even a few days. Things look up though when we visit the Jantar Mantar, an ancient observatory and the kids are fascinated with the gigantic sundials and astrological measuring devices, accurate the guide says to the 2nd second. It turns out to be the highlight of the trip, and I furiously take photographs of the stunning geometrics as the children clamber all over.

Ranthambore:

Hunting lodge of the maharajas and now a hotel, it is ironic to stay in a place responsible for the near extinction of the very beasts we are now aching to see. It is a strangely timeless place, with croquet games on the lawn and tea being served under the trees. We desperately want to go on a jeep safari, but are told that the Duke of Edinburgh is in town and has shanghaied the few jeeps allowed to enter the reservation every day. Frustrated, we resign ourselves to the cantor safari, which is like a bus with the roof sawed off. We chat with the other guests, mostly Americans, and hear that tiger sightings have been elusive.

Fingers crossed, we set off the next morning and after a chilly ride through some exquisitely rugged country, we finally enter the forest. After hours of futile searching, we hear that a tiger has been spotted and careen off towards the spot. Then in an experience reminiscent to the emperor's new clothes we peer through the shrubbery at what the ranger assures us is a supine tiger. Everyone oohs and aahs but I see nothing and wonder what the others are pointing at. We return to the hotel hiding our disappointment but decide to take another stab at it in the afternoon.

We are driving past a herd of deer, when our bus driver throws the bus into reverse and we stagger backwards in time to see the deer come to attention, and as one, leap away through the bushes. We hear something crashing through and a minute later two frantic and wild eyed antelope stampede past us. Bushes thrash, ugly noises are heard, and then we hear just a low rhythmic moaning. The guide tells us in a hushed voice that the tiger has made its kill. As we stand there in stunned silence, a blaze of orange breaks the monotony of the green, and a tigress walks across the road in front of our van. Sinous grace and strength disregards our presence and we stand awed. The guide tells us that if we were willing to wait there for a hour or more, she would return, leading her cubs to the kill. Sadly, the rest of the bus votes to try our luck elsewhere and we search in vain, only to find when we are headed back, that the mud shows the fresh pug marks of three young cubs as well. Life cannot get more exotic than this, and clichéd as it seems, we have seen the Taj Mahal, tigers and feel like our stay in India is already justified!

Nuts and Bolts:

Travelling as we did with kids, we had no problems finding food to eat. We were vigilant about the water we drank and avoided salads and fresh fruits and were lucky not to catch any bugs. All the hotels we stayed at had kid-friendly food choices, including pizza and pasta. We did find that unlike California we were not able to read in the car, as the lurching and bumps made us car-sick if we tried to read, so we were glad we had taken loads of travel games with us. We had asked our taxi driver to helps us get guides at every spot, but found that the government has regularized the tourist guide industry and so informative, accurate guides were available at most spots for fixed prices. Hand sanitizer is now available in most Indian drugstores, and worth carrying for when you can't wash up before a snack. Thankfully, roadside restrooms are now clean and well supplied with snacks and drinks.

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Visit an 'evolving' article about One Day Tips and Weekend Trips for Bangalore Expats.

 

 

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—About our writer:

"KC refuses to limit herself to one label. Among the many hats she wears are: Full time mom, part time writer, teacher, chef, art collector, gardener, quilter and extremely good vacationer. She has lived in Northern California for close to 20 years and has spent most of those years stopping frequently to smell the roses and plant some lavender. After two decades in Silicon Valley her husband will be working from Bangalore. KC has two children, a 12 year old daughter and an 8 year old son.