The story so far. Having left Mumbai on a tiger search I broke my leg in a remote rural area of Rajasthan.
I met up with a tour group pretending that my leg was sprained. We went to Ranthambore National Park and I saw a tiger. Now I needed to get home.
That afternoon we were to
take a train to Bharatpur to visit the Keoladeo Ghana National Park.
The woman
with the heart problems was now in a wheel chair and I was stilled half hopping
and
limping. We were travelling first-class, didn’t want to see the rest of the
train. The seating was a
two-tiered bunk with the lower bunk configured to be
two seats. There was a little ladder to the
side to climb to the upper level.
In the carriage with us were Indian families who had made nests
for themselves
on the upper bunks and were having picnics. They didn’t have to worry about
dropping food on the floor of the train as there was a healthy, happy family of
rats scurrying up
and down the carriage cleaning up the mess. My bag was open
on the floor. Not wanted any
stowaways I quickly picked it up and closed it. I
was sitting reading when I became aware of
something else scurrying. It was an Indian,
I won’t say gentleman, he scurry up the ladder beside
me and spent the rest of
the trip peeking over the edge of the bunk at the top of my head.
Spies, rats
and the smell of curry; wonder what the entertainment was like in steerage.
We stayed at the cutely named Birders Inn. A small hotel with a very pretty garden.
The Keoladeo Ghana National
Park is a large wetland bird sanctuary but because of a continuing
drought
there were not a lot of birds. Like most Indian parks this used to be a private
shooting park
for the Raj of Bharatpur. The Park has a tally board recording
all the Royal shoots, on some days
more than 3000 birds were shot. Indian
wildlife breathed a collective sigh of relief with the demise
of the Raj. It is
now a United Nations World Heritage site. It is
a man-made and man-managed
wetland. The reserve protects the area from frequent
floods and provides grazing grounds for the
village cattle. Every year thousands of
migratory waterfowl visit the park for their winter breeding.
Except this was summer
and there was hardly any water and we saw deer,cows, turtles and monkeys.
But I can’t complain, after all I’d seen the
tiger.
Now back to the van for the drive to the Mogul city of Fatehpur Sikri and on
to Agra. The woman
with the heart problem was eased into the back of the van
across seats. And I eased myself up the
steep step. I was thinking what would
happen if one of the group died. Would we still go on?
Fatehpur Sikri is a wonderful example of the lunacy of the Raj. It was built
in 1571 by Emperor Akbar
and abandoned in 1586. No-one bothered to check if
there was any water to supply the city. There
was none. This was lucky for the
local villagers as they proceeded to pilfer building materials from the
palace
and you can see parts of Fatehpur Sikri on shanties in the surrounded villages.
The city is one
of the finest examples of a Mughal walled city with an intricate blending of
Islamic and Hindu styles
of design and architecture. It is now undergoing
massive repairs and restoration. Although just outside
the gates touts are
selling carvings and tiles that have somehow come adrift.
Then we headed off to The Sheraton in
Agra. The woman with the heart problem was headed
off to hospital and for a
medical evacuation back to Australia. My leg was now a greenish, yellowish
colour and my ankle was only twice the size of the other one. This was the
longest lasting sprained ankle
I’d ever had. I was getting better at hopping
and ignoring the odd looks. Although the heritage palaces
that I’d been staying
were very grand it was great to be in a modern hotel with few stairs and
elevators.
The plumbing also worked well and there weren’t groveling retainers
around every corner.
Our first port of call was the Agra Fort, also known as the Red Fort. It was
built by Akbar between
1565 and 1573. The fort can be more accurately described
as a walled palatial city with fabulous views
over the Taj Mahal. Here Shahjahan, Akbar’s grandson, spent his
last few years as a captive held by Aurangzeb (Shahjahan’s son). Shahjahan
languished and died looking at the Taj Mahal where his wife
was buried. The Taj was designed to be completely symmetrical but in an act of real nastiness, when his father died, Aurangzeb buried him asymmetrically. Family
feuds among the Raj were pretty vicious.
Parts of the complex are stilled used
to billet and train elements of the army.
The next morning we were up early to see the sunrise on the Taj Mahal along
with around 1000
other early birds. There was a mad dash for the entrance with
me hopping along behind. Wait for
me, hop...hop, wait for me. No photographs
really do justice to it. As the sky changes, the building
also changes. The Taj
Mahal was built by Shahjahan as a memorial for his second wife, Mumtaz
Mahal,
who died in 1631 giving birth to their fourteenth child.
The group minus one. I'm the one in the bottom row with the pained expression. |
Later the tomb of
Satti-ul-Nisa, chief maid of Mumtaz was added. More mosques built by
Sirhindi Begam and Fatehpuri Begam were added to the Taj Mahal complex. These buildings
are exquisite with their calligraphy and detail. They are built in a red stone
and are a great
contrast to the Taj.
By now we were all tired and tired of each other so it was with relief that we
set off for Delhi.
The group were spending the last night having a
group hug at a hotel downtown. I decided to stay
at the Taj Palace in Delhi and
drink champagne. I was staying on for a couple of days to explore
Delhi before
flying back to Mumbai. Because of my leg I didn’t see too much but I hired a
car for
a day and went to Humayun’s Tomb.The tomb was built by the orders of Humayun's widow between
1565 to 1572. It was designed by a Persian architect and had garden features and grandeur that
had not been seen in India before. In the complex there are other tombs that pre-date this. It was a
very hot day and every tomb had heaps of stairs so I didn't see as much as I should have.
I also drove passed the Parliament buildings and stopped to take some shots of the Delhi Observatory.
The observatory was built by the same architect who created the Jaipur Observatory.
I went to the Delhi Cultural Centre which has a great selection of fabrics and embroidery. This, so far, has been the only museum I’ve seen in India that is really well cared for.
It was with relief that I arrived back to Mumbai and met up with Omar, he
was staying near the
office in Andheri. I spent a couple of days holed-up
nursing my wounds expecting great sympathy.
Instead we went on a walking trip
around Malabar Hill. As you would guess from the name, it’s a hill.
It has ups
and downs and many, many steep staircases.
At last we were on the plane back to Melbourne. We arrived on a Sunday and,
being worried
about my slow healing sprain, I went to my doctor on Monday
morning. Because I was walking he
thought it was just a slow healing sprain but
as a safety measure he sent me off for an X-ray. Later
that day a nurse rang
from the surgery. The first thing she asked was “are you standing up?” I said
yes and she barked at me to sit down immediately. I had a displaced fibula break.
The bone had
sheared through and slipped, it required urgent attention. The
surgeon was concerned that because
I had been walking for three weeks on a
broken leg and had just been in a plane that there could
be other issues. As it
turned out, by being mobile, I hadn’t allowed clots to form so he was able
to operate immediately.
By the end of the week I was back home. Our bedroom is on the second floor
so Omar had
transformed the library on the ground floor into a tribute to
India. He covered all the books with
vibrant saris and had set up a bed for me.
Omar hit on a great way of getting me up, he fed me
porridge every morning and
lamb chops with peas and mashed potatoes every day for a month.
It was out of desperation for a change of menu that I finally made it to the kitchen.
It took a
couple of months before I could throw the crutches away. But it was worth it.
I GOT TO SEE THE TIGER!!!!!!!
It's all true.
ReplyDeleteI fed the poor girl largely on porridge and chops with peas & mashed potatoes, a bit like "Whatever happened to Baby Jane". There was a cathartic moment when Diane yelled "Enough!!! How about something different??!!!". Ok then you ungrateful thing, it's MacDonalds for you!!!
But she DID see the Tiger...
This comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteThanks for sharing the remaining park of "looking for tiger in India". The places you have travelled to spot tigers are amazing and the images that you have posted in this article are worth to see. Visit these tiger safari in India to spot more species of tigers.
ReplyDelete