Day 36 - 38

Spent a final day in Jodhpur, dying my hair chocolate brown and having a lovely meal before catching the 10.30pm train to our next destination, Jaipur - the pink city. We ordered too much food as usual but rather than send it back, we got it packaged up and decided to give it to the people living on the roundabout outside the restaurant. I had read only that day that the price of food in India is so much on the increase, many working families can no longer afford staples such as onions or tomatoes. We agonised whether this was a patronising gesture or whether all charity is gracious, humane and relevant. I reasoned if someone offered me something they had and I needed, I would happily take it. Is it the same thing? Donating wasted food we ordered because we are stupid and greedy? Anyway, we decided to give it a go. It was pouring outside and pitch black as Rufus ran through the series of tarpaulin shacks clutching the food, which made the whole gesture feel very romantic. A grateful family with young sleeping children took it off him with outstretched hands, offering a lot of god blesses. I think we did the right thing although I am glad it was rice and curry and not the lobster and a dozen oysters. That would have been just wrong.

The train journey started off badly when we got into bed in the wrong bunks and were rudely woken and moved with torches shone in our faces about 10 minutes later. We grumbled our way back to our own seats and tried to get comfy. I had misread the guide book and assumed the journey to be 7 hours, asking our host to meet us at the station at 6.30am. Rufus set an alarm for 5.30am to be safe. The journey was actually only 5 hours. Imagine our surprise when I woke sleepily and looked out the window at the sign 'Jaipur Junction'. It took a few seconds to register this was actually our stop and it was only 4.45am. I woke Rufus by shouting at him in a blind panic and hastily woke the girls. Rufus kept a level head, rushing out onto the platform wearing only his pants (tight, bright pink, guitar motif - not my choice) and shouting at random Indians 'where are we, where are we'. People did not bat an eyelid at the sweaty, pasty half naked Westerner on a busy platform. He then ran back into the train and tried to wake a woman in another bed, wrongly assuming it to be his. She was old and cross and not happy. In the style of Basil Fawlty, he got hurridly dressed while shrieking and started chucking our luggage out the door. I swear some of the luggage that made it off wasn't even ours. I stood shell shocked with big hair on the platform with two sleepy confused children while he ran about, falling over his trouser legs and shoving clothes into carrier bags. We managed off the train in record speed, I would reckon about 3 minutes. We were delighted to immediately see the kind smiley face of Colonel Mustard. His real name is Colonel Rajesh Sinha but we are Western, we play Cluedo, we have no other reference point. We went back to his lovely house and promptly went back to bed. At a more reasonable hour in the morning, we got up and had a lovely spicy omelette with toast. We had to endure the Colonel droning on about the plethora of forts Jaipur had to offer. Yadda, yadda, yadda we thought - where's a good place for a boozy lunch?

Have gone right off India. The bureaucracy is ridiculous. If you drop a fork in a restaurant, the man in charge of cutlery has to be notified. Not the nearest waiter, who may only be in charge of water, or napkins. By the time it takes them to tell enough people to bring another fork, I have usually nicked one off the next table as is normal. This causes endless confusion but it is a stupid system. They also employ about 14 waiters per person. I think this a way to manipulate the employment figures, paying many people crap money to stand around doing nothing, rather than pay 3 or 4 people a fair wage. That way the government get to say 'we have minimum unemployment'. Lies upon lies upon deceit upon lies! It's not real jobs at all, it is just nonsense. We have adjusted to eating a meal while being stared at intently by at least 10 men only inches from the table. The chaos is also a nightmare. Why create beautiful buildings and forget pavements? Or even roads for that matter? Actually, they do attempt to build the occasonal pavement, but as India is full, families usually set up home on the new spot within days. I am always surprised this doesn't irritate the people trying to enter the buildings - where they live or work - who have to step over small bonfires and grubby children.

My hair is very dark. Rufus says it suits me but I know he's not convinced. I look a little like Katie Price - in that severe, leathery skin way. Think I will have to go back to blonde. So far I don't really like Jaipur. It is stinky, huge, dirty, polluted, and really busy. Lookiong forward to going to Agra in 9 sleeps to see my beloved Taj Mahal. The whole trip has been building up to this for me. I can't really concentrate on other things. And yet I know it's not about what's waiting on the other side. It's the climb.