Udaipur - 'The Venice of the East'

The name's Bond, James Bond. We arrived in the early evening shaken, but not stirred, after watching 'The most beautiful sunset ever' according to Chris, from the edge of an almost silent highway, which had him mesmerized for quite some time. A lot like The Curious Case of Benjamin Button we figured! We honed in on Lal Ghat right in the heart of town on the edge of the lake and were glad it was easy to navigate through the rush hour congestion to our destination. Loitering outside Nukkad Guest House we were greeted on the street by Raju, owner and manager of this neat, friendly, and well-run retreat. With white marble floors, secure bike parking, and the cleanest rooms to date we completed the extensive particulars of a Rajasthani stay, and showered off the dirt and grime from the previous night. We took a stroll out into the night, through the narrow back streets past unusually passive street vendors and an array of Pashmina shops, stumbling across the river which was in desperate need of some monsoonal rain. Everywhere we looked we could see neon and large painted signs of the movie 'Octop**** , which Lana informed Adam was a classic 80's Bond flick and was filmed right here in Udaipur. This film was a must see!Chris found not one but two German Bakeries, with his uncanny ability to sniff out chocolate cake, as we all stocked up and conceded to a well earned rest. Udaipur, on first impression, looked more like a spot in the Mediterranean than India. Cool and clean quiet streets amongst a maze of well maintained whitewashed buildings housing shops, restaurants and large guesthouses. It seemed to have a lot to offer the low and high budget travellers alike.

In the morning we woke bright eyed and bushy tailed, intent on some sight-seeing. The City Palace/Museum positioned just around the corner from our guesthouse overlooking the lake, looked amazing from any vantage point in the city and we decided that this was as good a place as any to start our self-guided tour. After a few right and lefts we were standing at her gates and paying the unusually reasonable 'foreigner' entrance fee. We found ourselves inside a large 16th century courtyard, now utilised by a couple of fancy restaurants, a WWF shop and your standard jewellery-come-souvenir-handicraft tack shops. We were immediately hit with the dramatic, neat architecture of this period. Checking in the battery-less camera until the conclusion of our visit, we climbed up our first set of stairs leading us inside, to a smaller more enclosed courtyard, and through to the museum. With high ceilings and walls hung with Maharana Singh/Pratap paintings depicting important events during his reign (such as how he ordered that a Muslim woman brought captive to him by one of his men, should be returned to her people) and his evident love of Tiger hunting jaunts (hence the dwindling populations in India and particularly this area to date, and a valid reason for WWF to be stationed near the entrance gate). There were also pastel and oil paintings showing ceremonies, bathing rituals etc and we were quickly over indulged in the repetitiveness of this mediocre artistic style, and less interested than before. Through narrow passageways and up and down spiral staircases we could not refrain from allowing Kings of Leon into our heads, giggling as we went. Suddenly we standing in front of what looked like an 80's Disco room, with mirror inlay designs set amidst coloured mirror tiles covering all available wall and ceiling space. Mirror polished tiles lined the floors, creating an unusual atmosphere in this otherwise traditional and conservative palace. There were several of these rooms at the first and second floor level, King Maharana Pratap was almost certainly a party boy, and definitely pre-empted the invention of the mirror ball.

Peering through stone carved windows, which still held blocks of coloured glass, out from the private chambers and anterior wings, we spied on the views of the city in the valley below and across to the opposite side of the canal. Continuing inward, and lost, we came across another courtyard, housing beautiful coloured glass and mirror inlay mosaics of peacocks in various feathery displays and poses glittering in the slanting morning sunlight. This seemed like a social meeting place with large vacant stone tables and chairs, waiting for company. As we zig zagged our way back down toward the main gate, we found a limited display under the cloisters of old relics and examples of the traditional modes of transport from the different Raj eras, within the affluent 'entertaining' courtyard. The exhibits included fading carriages lined with elaborately embroidered velvet cushions and draped with fine silk curtains, and chairs attached to poles on which the Royal family would have been carried. These had been hand painted in different colours and designs, probably to match whatever robes they were wearing on that trip. It seemed as though they traveled better in the 16th century than some of us do today, amazing really! Unfortunately everything was covered in clear plastic sheeting to reduce the damage and preserve them from the harsh Indian weather that changes dramatically from monsoonal rain and relentless humidity, to tremendous heat waves, dust storms and drought.

An easy afternoon was topped off by a rooftop dinner, with the promise of Octop**** to follow. Adam demolished the half tandoori-roasted chook with ease; however Lana's biryani rice dish tasted like the tomato soup she had ordered beforehand. Unfortunately the evening ended with disappointment as the DVD player was stuck. It had probably been played over so many times the disc had melted inside...Fortunately we had the joy of finding another fairy-lit rooftop, with good food the following evening and got right into the Bond vibe. Enjoying the West's portrayal of India in the 1980s, and being highly entertained by the autorikshaw chase scenes with the poor little tuk-tuk's riding hard up on their back wheels and hopping impossibly down staircases dodging bullets, we settled in, spotting the sights of Udaipur through Ian Fleming's eyes!

Another sunny morning saw us up early, clad in our comfortable thermal leggings, for a yoga session on the roof of our hotel. Helping the instructor lay out the rugs there was only 4 of us that morning. We stretched and twisted ourselves into positions our muscles hadn't thought about, either ever or for at least a very long time. Trying to remember to breathe through the painful concentration, we were then able to relax in light seated meditation, watching as the Yogi at the front rolled his eyes completely into the back of his head...eewww! Feeling invigorated we ate a healthy breakfast and showered ready for the day.

We felt wholly inspired to take the bikes over the river and up to Monsoon Palace, as featured in the movie which has brought such fame and fortune to the city. The ride out through town and up the big bitumen slope, which zig zagged all the way up to the top of the raggy hill was unfortunately the highlight. They had evidently used the interior of other palaces in the movie, probably from the two which sit on small islands in the lake and are now hotel resorts. The Monsoon Palace itself was dirty, half finished and bare except for a few old display boards of the animals and birds of Rajasthan and the surrounding wildlife park. The views were pale in the bright sunlight and the permanent haze over the city and the skyline, and made our photographs look hideously overexposed. Coasting down the ramp to a parking area boasting a 'nature trail walk', we parked up and climbed around a fence onto the dusty gravel trail in the full heat of the sun. Stalking slowly up the orange track, we took in the views on the other side of the hill, into the valley where things were greener and a main road swaggered away into the next ridgeline. To jazz it up due to the absence of natural wildlife specimens available to entertain, the wildlife council had constructed wire and concrete painted animals, posed in the bush land with an informative name tag. The Indian hare had been there a long time; it's anticipated rabbit-like form now unrecocgnisable. The Blue Bull was a favourite, seconded by the scared looking Hyena. Despite the comedy factor, it was appalling to the point of just being rather depressing that nobody had even come to take the decrepit sculptures away, but provided us with a reason to walk on to see what would be next. Except for Adam perhaps, who without the patience for man-made tourist attractions, had well and truly had enough.

Our next target was Tiger Lake (Badi ka Talab), rumoured to be infested with crocodiles - we were certainly ready for some excitement. We rode through little rural backstreets and down tiny lanes bordered by low stone walls which reminded us of England. The ride itself made the trip wholly worthwhile, as when we found the lake it was a bit of a let-down. It had a nice promenade constructed on one side and reflected the bright sky in the deep blue of its still waters. It seemed to be a popular spot for the younger generation and a convenient place for them to drink whiskey. Leaving almost immediately following arrival, we headed for a restaurant which was hidden in the valley on the other side. The resort was well hidden, but we enjoyed the off-road riding around a multitude of bends well off the beaten track, and found ourselves imposing temporarily on untouched patches of village life. We finally arrived at Silence Resort, its toilet-pink painted bungalows set in a row facing out to the silent, still hillside. The resort was positioned in nicely kept gardens, with a smart un-Indian restaurant in the middle. We were informed that the only available food in this empty 5 star retreat was fried chips, but in dire need of some refreshments we ordered tea and cold drinks at premium prices, and enjoyed the views and tranquility. We understood why they had named it Silence. Farmers tending to their crops below kept us entertained for some time until we headed back to Udaipur.

Dropping the bikes in the hotel, we set off on foot for the cable car ride up to one of the many view points in the area to watch the sun go down and take some photos. We stopped along the way, just past the small Tibetan market, for a roadside feast would come to haunt Lana in the coming hours. Finally arriving at the boarding station, grumbling that we had walked so far around to get here we may as well have just walked to the top, the crowds had started to gather. It seemed a more popular place for local families than foreigners! Hopping aboard the not-so-sturdy, suspended red fibre-glass vessel we said a prayer and hung on tight. Managing only a few wonky pictures during the journey that lasted all of around 3 minutes, we reached the top and walked along the ridge, watching as the golden disc of the sun slowly receded in the sky over the western side of Udaipur, beyond where we had spent the afternoon. It was beautiful and a tad romantic. We were on a central ridgeline; Udaipur lake, City Palace and the two Lake Palaces' reflecting in the water to one side, and the entire old and new part of the city spread out to the other side as far as our eyes could see, the light from the white and pale blue painted buildings gave a renewed sense of a real Mediterranean atmosphere.

We beat the rush and avoided having to queue getting down. Although the sun had already set, there were many locals still coming up to enjoy the view. We walked back through town in the fading daylight, along the edge of the lake, taunting the tuk-tuk drivers with impossible fares for a ride back to the tourist district, a mere 10 minute walk away. Even so it seemed they would rather drive the distance with an empty rickshaw than for a nominal fare. Deciding to visit the Tibetan market along the way, we purchased some fresh exotic fruits, but were disappointed to find an absence of truly Tibetan crafted style; with most stalls selling woolen knits, children's clothes and cheap fashion.

We were due to leave the following morning but Lana fell chronically ill during the night and we were forced to stay another day - much to the annoyance of Raju, the hotel owner who had kept a couple waiting since 5am for our room...oops. Adam force fed Lana with a double dose of Ciprofloxacin, then went gallivanting about over the river, socialising and drinking tea at a new-found favourite restaurant spot named The Little Prince. He returned to the hotel around 4 hours later to find a much revived Lana. We headed back to the Little Prince, over the bridge, across the dried up river where Adam had arranged to meet a Swiss guy named Michael (a VW collector, and has a passion for restoration of old Beetles and Campervan models in Switzerland) and Christian for dinner. Taking a seat inside whilst waiting for the others, Adam got up suddenly shouting 'Hot Wheeeeeels' and ran over to the bridge. It materialised that Trevor Perry, who Adam used to work with on the wharfs in Melbourne many years ago, and his family (Helen, Reece and Catherine) were on holiday in Rajasthan. Known as 'Hot Wheels' for his uncanny ability to maneuver and manipulate anything on wheels, he was laughing all the way to Little Prince as he has not been called that since Adam left Melbourne with Reggie in 2006! It was nice for them both to catch up, share some stories and a few cold beers, reflecting on their interesting and quite humourous past at East Swanson Dock.

After a pleasant evening, chatting and eating we made for an early night in readiness for the imminent departure from Udaipur the next morning. Our proposed destination only 90km north, to Ranakpur, was the site of a collection of famous Jain temples and Kumbhalgarh Fort, set deep in the barren hillscape, skimming the edge of the Thar Desert in the very heart of Rajasthan!