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Other entries in Udaipur

Udaipur charms, despite the dry lakes

Rats. I have just lost the entire, lengthy entry I made for the 22nd. This is not th first time that I have discovered that if you try to type an acute accent, you get shot back to the main page of this site and lose EVERYTHING you have written.

now i have a train to catch. Next time I see a computer, probably in a couple of days, I will tell you about
Begore-ki-Haveli
My walk across the lake and lunch
Sewing up my parcel
and a trip to Monsoon Palace

And here I am two days later, when I really want to tell you about the great time I've had today. Instead I will try to recapture some of the pleasure of my last day in Udaipur.

The day actually started with a trip to a tailor. I wanted to post some things back to England, to lighten my ,oad, and asked if someone to package it for me. Here you go to a tailor, who measures your goods and then wizzes up a canvas container on his sewing machine. Then after lots of form filling, I wrote Deb's address in felt pen on the canvas, handed over rather too large a sum to the tailor (postage rather than packing, which was ridiculously small) and he hand his team now post for me - saving me a trip to the post office.

While I was doing this (it took the best part of an hour, of course - time is not important here), I talked to an English woman doing the same thing. She trades in Indian goods, but this time had brought her 67-year-old mother with her and was finding it quite a strain, not only because she is paying for more comfortable accommodation than usual, but she hadnt appreciated how difficult her mother would find it to get around physically and to cope with the cultural change. Made me quite glad I have not waited another six years before doing this trip!

Then I went to revisit the Begora-ki-Haveli, the haveli where I saw the dancing two nights ago. It is a beautifully restored eighteenth century building, turned into a museum. Originally they wanted to make it a general Indian museum, but then they realised that this was a perfect context for a stricltly Rajisthani museum - restoring t5he haveli to how it would have been in its heyday. I loved it; I could really imagine people living in this gracious building, which - like lots of the havelis, looks onto the "lake".

There were all sorts of collections, apart from the usual armoury, including two roomfuls of turbans, the games played by the ladies in a haveli, household utensils and, what Udaipur is famed for, a splendid collection of miniatures. These merited a longer visit than I had the stamina for and needed more knowledge than I have. But they are fun.

I then walked across the lake, which has become a park for the town. Apart from the usual cows, there were people strolling around, boys playing cricket, an elephant ambling across and even the odd motorised vehicle taking a shortcut from one shore to the other.

I had lunch on the other side, at Restaurant Ambrai, opposite the haveli I had just visited and with panoramic views of the various palaces. This could have been a French restaurant garden, with elegant metal chairs under the shade of two huge trees, particularly as at the next table there was (yet another) French group, mostly my age. As I had my abstemious banana lassi and vegetable pilau, I envied them what was obviously a good spread. But I had the view, and another pleasant stroll back across the lake.

Later in the afternoon, the rickshaw driver, Shampoo, took me on a drive to Monsoon Palace, perched high on a hill several km from Udaipur. The guidebooks are disparaging about this palace, which is derelict and abandoned, with only the monkeys in residence. But it had a sort of sad splendour, being much older than many of the city's palaces, and it was worth the trip for the views, which reminded me of the trip Chris and I had to Fiesole to look at the views of Florence in the distant evening light.

Also the drive took us through a wildlife sancturary, which is supposed to include tigers, though the driver said they only come down in the evening (not surprised given the noise of the rickshaws). The scenery was magnificent rocky ranges, not unlike bits of the south of France, which stretched as far as the eye could see. Far down in the valley, my driver pointed out a village, which was growing mangoes, bananas, coconuts, apples etc for the city. The contrast between the lush green valleys and arid mountain tops was dramatic.

I had supper and watched the sunset on yet another rooftop restaurant in town, to finish off my good day in Udaipur. Truly a town with a laid back resort feel, even without its water. But I fear for its long term prosperity through tourism if the monsoon rains dont return this year.

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