Back to Udaipur today, in order to catch our night train to Ajmer. Not that we made a very good job of it, getting up too late, rushing our breakfast, throwing our things into our bags in a dreadful hurry, running outside to catch the jeep to town… missing it. This only mattered because it put us into a bad mood, for there was a tonga, a horse-cart, going in the next half-hour or so, but then we were in town before we realised we had left our one + only towel behind.
The rest of the day went no better. We decided, after all, to book a tent in the camp that the Pratap/Keerti hotel was organising, only to discover that because of our delay, we were too late, + that all places were full. Judging by what we have heard about the Pushgar cattle fair, we could be having some problems finding accommodation at a decent price. But such is the penalty of leaving one’s options open as long as possible.
We didn’t do so much during the day. It wasn’t possible to do all that much, since just about every shop in the town was shut up + shuttered; not, we were told, as a mark of mourning, but out of fear. There have been reports of much violence, principally directed against Sikhs + the shopkeepers have cautiously kept behind closed doors. The stall-holders, who could cut + run at any sign of trouble, were out on the streets doing business as usual. We had hoped to hire bicycles today; as that was no longer possible, we went for a long walk instead.
The town was uncomfortable to walk thro’, everything shut up, + people standing around in small groups, restless, having nothing to do. Not that we felt personally threatened, but it wasn’t the atmosphere to make one feel particularly jolly. But it was better when we got out thro’ town to the lake north of town, which was light + pretty. But we didn’t linger – we visited the gardens dedicated to Udaipur’s earliest hero, the king Pradap Singh, plus his horse Chetak. When one climbs thro’ the gardens to the hill overlooking the lake and town, there is a statue of them both, the one mounted on the other. In contrast to the sad + rather tatty gardens that we’ve seen elsewhere, this was beautifully manicured, especially the area around the statue. I still have to say that I find all such Botanical Gardens rather boring.
We walked back, + spent what remained of the afternoon lazing on the roof patio. We walked out to the stn in good time, which was probably just as well, since finding our platform, train, compartment etc was no easy matter, + was made no easier when there was a power cut. But a helpful Indian helped us, + we were soon settled down. We were in a 2-berth carriage for once, which as well as providing a little more room, gives padded bunks. Despite these I passed an appalling night, feeling that my head, throat + chest were completely blocked. But even when I gained temporary relief, + managed to bring up some thick yellow phlegm, I had nowhere to spit it. Not at all happy.
I am a little worried about my diary, thinking that perhaps it concentrates too much on trivia. I know I have a tendency to talk far too much about food, which really is of interest to no-one at all, unless this should somehow survive 4 or 5 hundred years. And I do tend to try to fill in every minute of every day, first I did this, then I did that. + so on ad nauseum. Ad nocteum, anyway… or whatever the word is for night. But that’s me, I suppose, tho’ I will watch it.
Actually, I think my fears about the diary were unfounded, and that from a distance of forty years, they do the job pretty well; it is detail that one is looking for. Otherwise, a pretty light day, before ticking off another town in Rajasthan.
