The usual sort of night on the bare boards that serve as berths on 2nd class Indian carriages – a certain amount of sleep, but generally bloody cold + uncomfortable. I spent chunks of the beginning + end of the night reading my book, which unfortunately was not quite gripping enough for the adverse circumstances. It is, nonetheless, very interesting – “Midnight’s Children” by Salman Rushdie. It is one of the books on India, but has taken me entirely by surprise. I had expected some sort of blockbuster epic set against an Indian background, but found instead a witty surrealist novel.
It was a relief to arrive at Jaisalmer, but we weren’t able to take our usual refuge in the Refreshment Room, as there didn’t seem to be one, so we had to face the touts + agents of the various hotels + guest-houses straight away. We selected one almost at random, + were whisked there at speed in the back of a jeep. Quite a reasonable place, + very cheap. We wandered around the town for a couple of hours. It’s small enough to be able to take in quite comfortably, + is impressive, all the buildings being of yellow sandstone, + many of them having intricately carved facades. Dominating the town is the massive fort which overlooks it. It is all pretty wondrous – I only wish we had the enthusiasm to appreciate it, but altho’ physically we are in good shape, mentally + emotionally we are drained. I am ticking off the days, longing to be home, + to be doing something, anything.
We walked into the fort + wandered around the network of narrow lanes + alleys that comprises a town within a town, calling at Jaisalmer’s up-market budget hotel for coffee. It seemed quite nice, tho’ was too expensive for us, scotching the thoughts we had been having of moving there, before or after our camel trek. We have come to Jaisalmer expressly to go on a camel trek, + want to get going on that as soon as possible, tomorrow we hope. So that is how we spent the rest of the time, checking out various places which offered them, + comparing prices + services. It was mightily encouraging to see that the prices were not as high as we had feared, + eventually we found a place which advertised treks at Rs 30, Rs20 cheaper than the one offered by the Tourist Corpn., + most of the other agents. The man also seemed very encouraging + had some good references, so after some thought we decided that this would be the best. But when we returned to make our booking, the man was at lunch, so we said we’d come back later.
When we did, after our siesta, things did not appear so rosy. The one thing we hadn’t asked about earlier was the price – after all, there was a big signboard out on the street saying Rs30 per day, but now it appeared that that was the price without food. Including a very basic diet, the price went up to Rs40, + then the usual Rs50 for the full deal. We both felt cheated, even if, as was likely, there was no intention to cheat. In any case, we said once again that we would think about it, + out we went.
We then spent ages looking for one particular café that we were almost sure was one David + Laraine had recommended so long before, becoming increasingly frustrated by being directed back + forth, eventually discovering that the place had been closed for a few days. But all was ultimately well, when we walked into the Rama Lodge, + were far more impressed by the guy there. The price was the near-standard Rs50, but it seemed that that included a fair few extras. The deciding factor, however, was the discovery that 2 other people were booked for a 3-day trek tomorrow as well. This could well turn out to be a decidedly mixed blessing, but they weren’t French (I’m afraid our francophobia extends at least that far) + it promised to be more sociable this way. We have more than enough of each other’s company as it is.
Ronnie Reagan was re-elected president last night by the way. We were chatting recently with someone commenting on the way the countries in the northern hemisphere were swinging right, while those in the south, in Australasia at least, were heading left. Either a natural phenomenon, we decided, like water going down the plughole the other way; or a symbol that the world was trying to twist itself apart.
If only it had continued to work that way; at present, we seem to be on thre brink of catastrophe. Or a number of catastrophes. But on to another town, and, despite our increasingly dire financial situation, something of an adventure, of a limited kind, with a camel ride into the desert.
