Friday, March 17, 2006

Mumbai to Bikaner

The journey from Jodhpur to Bikaner is quite fascinating as the region is desert terrain. It is 200 kms from Jodhpur and takes about five hours to reach Bikaner. In Jodhpur we were warned that we would nto egta ny food on the way. So we packed ourselves with lot of food in Jodhpur itself where the train halts for more than thirty minutes. From Jodhpur the train became progressively empty and the terrain more and more beautiful. Having the compartment all to ourselves we stretched ourselves in glorious comfort. I felt the true essence of my holiday beginning. Small railway stations passed by with people sitting in groups under neem trees. The roof of the railway station was the sprawling neem tree. There is something very beautiful about Rajasthani people maybe because of their colourful clothes and their turbans. They always look exotic to me. Maybe it is because of the way their images are sold by the tourist economy. Rajasthan in general and the desert in particular have a certain appeal to our senses. This is my second trip to Rajasthan and I admit to some kind of an attraction to that region, its deserts, climate, costumes, palaces and forts.

To sleep in a train on a not so hot afternoon with a half opened book, I would say is the favourite fantasy of any train traveler. To occasionally peep through the barren stations where the train pulls in and out, to drink the sweet tea, the head throbbing slightly, waiting for your destination and reading through a book are the essential ingredients of this fanstasy. For a long time running away from home meant a long train journey, sitting by the window and see the world pass by. A unkempt traveler with a rucksack on his back, a pair of glasses perched on his nose, a book crammed in his bag has been my fantasy man. Oops, how could I forget the music. The ubiquitous walkman in hand!!! This is somehow the icon of freedom, of running away, of a footloose life.

Bikaner as we read in the travel books was the north western part of Rajasthan. These towns are referred to as the desert towns. An hour before we reach Bikaner, the terrain becomes even more fascinating as the train cuts through towering sand dunes. One sees roads snaking through these yellow sands with very little habitation. There is sand everywhere and more importantly on the tracks. So as our train was going at full speed we had a sand storm effect inside our compartment with the sand being blown inside. There was nothing that we could do and very soon we were covered with sand. The passengers in the train then told us about the sandstorms which sweep through this region in the months of July and August. I was a little apprehensive considering my delicate respiratory system but then there was little one could do as we were already in the desert country. A beautiful part of this journey were some young singers who came to entertain us. They sang such hauntingly beautiful songs. As the train was chugging we had these singers singing local rajasthani songs. They came prepared with film songs but on our insistence they sang local bhajans and folk songs. Firm, strong male voices. Songa about the escapades of Meera. They were so beautiful. So haunting.

Soon the train pulled into Bikaner railway station. It was a not so large station, a red deserted building at that time of the day. Our train did not have too many passengers as they had embarked at the earlier stations. We had booked at Marudhar Heritage hotel earlier. As we entered the city I was appalled by the dust and dirt of the city. Marudhar Heritage turned out to be quite expensive and not so atmospheric. It was basic and clean. We quickly showered and set out for the city. On a holiday there is nothing more to do except go out, walk around, eat, drink and look forward to new sights and sounds.

My first impressions of Bikaner city was really a let down. It was crowded, dirty, dusty and nothing remotely atmospheric. There were forts and havelis here and there. But the overwhelming dust and pollution effectively chased away all touristy imaginations. The fort walls looked dirty and worn out. The massive gates of the fort was covered with grime. And one had to be careful of the sloshing drain water all over the city. The city which I had so much wished to visit was such a let down. I had expected a small town with lanes and by lanes, not this prosperous trading town.

As tourists we tend to build fantastic images of desert towns and so on in our own minds aptly supported by guide books like Lonely Planet. So when one actually descends into a town, one has to adjust and reorient to its current avatar. Rather than blaming the city, I will blame my own fertile mind which locates a region in a certain framework.

So the evening was some kind of coming to terms with these realities. S and I wandered across the busy lanes selling clothes, electronic goods, shoes and so on. We had read that Bikaner was famous for sweets. So we entered a sweet shop and ate rasgollas and jamuns. We also packed some sweets for our jouney. Following that we went to a pickles shop and bought some pickles too. The marwadi chilly pickle is really good. Green chillies filled with mustard and other spices. Our next stop was the provision store where we picked up Sangri, a typical desert vegetable. It looks like dried beans and even thinner than that.

We had decided back home that we will dine in the Bhairon Vilas Palace. In such cases Lonely Planet is a good guide and very charitable to the budget traveler. Bhairon Vilas Palace is indeed a beautiful palace. The rooms are decorated quite aesthetically if not a little crowded with artifacts. Maybe the latter was made to lure the foreign tourist. But I liked the guiding principle of the aesthetics. One of the rooms has been converted into a cozy bar with high backed chairs and a regal atmosphere. The food was terrible but the ambience made it up for all the existential problems. On enquiry we realized that the rooms were not too expensive and quite affordable. After a few beers and some food, we returned to our hotel.

The next day was Sunday and we would start on our five day safari. We felt good to be heading out in the desert. But I was cautious about my optimism. I wasn’t sure what new images and stories the desert would throw up. Anyway there was something to look forward to the next morning onwards.

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