Looking for a tiger in India....part 2

The story so far.......we had arrived in Mumbai and after a week I flew to Udaipur. I was driving across Rajasthan to meet a tour group in Jaipur.

http://dianeworland.blogspot.com/2012/01/looking-for-tigerpart-1.html

I’m a smoker and although my driver, Shivanth Singh Rathan, said it was OK to smoke in the car
I respected that it was his place of work. This was my second more serious mistake.

Shivanth Singh Rathan

The cows have painted horns to establish ownership

After about an hour I asked him to stop for a cigarette break, he pulled off near a river and
drove up a small hill. He thought there would be monkeys around for me to photograph, he
was right, so I walked  further up the hill taking snaps.

I started walking back to the car and my feet went from under me on the gravel.

I still can’t remember what happened next but from the cuts and bruises I must have landed
 first on my right side, then bounced 180 degrees onto my left side and then bounced onto my
back staring up into the sky. My bag and camera had flown away and the driver was in a panic.
It was only  the first day and he had already killed his passenger. I sat up gingerly and asked him
to find my camera and bag; this gave me a couple of seconds to assess the damage. My right
elbow and hip were bleeding, not life threatening. Now to my left side, my shoulder was banged
around, my left leg had numerous cuts and was also bleeding and, damn, I’d sprained my ankle.
It was a really, really, really bad sprain. Actually it wasn’t a sprain; I’d broken the cursed thing.
Never having broken a leg before, I had certain misconceptions. If you could stand, it couldn’t
be broken. If you could still walk, with a limp, it couldn’t be broken. Dumb.
 Anyway I was hunting a tiger and nothing was going to stop me.

The driver had a first-aid kit and we cleaned up the bleeding, dug the gravel out of my elbow
and he found a pressure bandage for my ankle and we headed onto Ranakpur. I was in shock;
the pain was still to come. At Ranakpur we were to visit a large temple complex. As we pulled up
I saw the entrance was up a reasonable steep set of stairs. No problems, just took a bit longer to
climb up them than normal.

The Jain Temple at Ranakpur was built between 1437 and 1458. It has 29 halls
supported by 1444 carved pillars, no two are the same. The main temple is called the
Chaumukha Mandir and is all carved in a milk white marble. A monk was our guide and
he walked very slowly, that suited me fine.

I asked the driver to take my arm to help me down the front stairs. The shock was starting to
wear off and the pain was kicking in. We stopped for lunch and I rang Omar in Mumbai to tell
him about the fall. He suggested that I see a doctor or come back to Mumbai. I was hours from
civilisation and I was going to find a tiger. I wasn’t going back. So we continued on to Nimaj.

The locals found it very odd that I was sitting in the front seat
with the driver and every time we stopped we were stared at.

The Nimaj Palace is an elegant building in a very small rural village; it is nestled in the Aravalli Hills. 

We were greeted by the Maharajah and the Maharani and led up a flight of stairs. I checked in and
they started escorting me to my room at the very top of the palace. Up more stairs. Half way up the
first flight I started crying with the pain and needed help. My room was quickly changed to a room
on the first floor. I explained the fall and the sprained ankle. The Maharani sent one of her servants
over with ice and the poor woman sat at my feet rubbing my leg. At least the cold made it numb.

I said that I didn’t think I would make it down for dinner so food was sent to the room. They sent
up a magnificent feast for about three people. The hotel manager decided to stop and watch me eat.

Because of the pain I had no appetite and being watched didn’t help. I politely asked him to leave.
He did. Then a certain madness came over me. So much care was being taken of me that I didn’t
want to appear ungrateful by not eating the meal. So I got a plastic bag, scooped half the food into
it, and put it in my case. The thinking was that when we left in the morning I could throw it out.
I finally got to sleep with scotch and painkillers. This was to set up a pattern for the rest of the trip.
In the morning my leg had swelled to double its size and was turning an interesting colour.

That morning I was supposed to be leaving for a two day walking tour of Jodhpur, I realised
that was not possible. I rang the agent in Delhi and told them of my sprained ankle and they
quickly rescheduled the trip for me to stay an extra day in Nimaj and to change the route for
me to get to Jaipur. I was relieved until I realised that I had a case full of curry in room with
no air-conditioning. The smell was going to get really bad. Now I had to get rid of the curry.
I limped into the bathroom and chose the sink instead of the toilet to dispose of last-nights dinner.
I started pouring it down the sink and stuffing the large bits down with my fingers. My feet were
getting wet and I looked down to see the curry running out of the pipes and all over the floor.
I grabbed some lovely white towels and built a dam around the overflow so it wouldn’t get to the
 bedroom and on the carpet. I found a cup and started scooping the mess up and tipping it into
the toilet. Because I couldn’t put any weight on the broken leg I was crouching on one leg with
the other sticking out like a wounded bird’s wing. It took about 20 minutes to clean the mess up.
I picked up the towels to discover they were no longer a lovely white. They were a curry yellow.
So into the shower with the towels. Soap and hitting them on the floor got them a pale yellow
and I gave up. I was just glad there was no fly on the wall watching all this madness.

Anyway, finally dressed, I gingerly walked down for breakfast. Some other guests had heard
about my sprain and gave me some tablets to reduce the fluid build up.I didn’t do much more than
just meander around the palace for the rest of the day. The Maharani paid me a visit and took me
on a tour of the renovations that were happening in the hotel wing of the palace. That night I went
to the dinning-room for dinner.


 The people Omar was working with were encouraging him to come and get me.
But I was going for the tiger.

Rather than go onto Jodhpur I was now going to Pushkar. It is one of the five sacred pilgrimage
sites for devout Hindu pilgrims. It is called the king of pilgrimage sites. The agent had arranged for
 me to stay at a complex called The Orchard it is 3km out of the town centre in a rural village area.
The Orchard is quite a beautiful site with 11 luxury tents, think silks, marble and air-conditioning,
in a garden orchard setting. What I didn’t know was that it was shut and had been opened just
 for me. This was really creepy. I was in one tent and the serving staff, all men, hung around the
porches of the surrounding tents. I knew I couldn’t walk either very fast or very far.

The agent had arranged for me to go into Pushkar with a guide. My transport was a local cart
pulled  by a camel. The tourists carts are done up in velvets and cushions, mine was a local cart
with unspeakable stains on the fabric. As we passed through the local villages women came out
and held their children up so they could see the weird lady and teenagers chased after us laughing.

They did much better with the guide, a handsome young man who was incredibly knowledgeable
about the area. As we walked through Pushkar people kept greeting him with some deference.
It turned out that he was a famous local temple singer and his voice could be heard on tape all
through the town. We sat by the Pushkar Lake and told me about his dislike of young Westerners
who considered the town part of the hippy trail. They had bought immodesty and drugs into this
very holy area. They had also divided the city between those who rented rooms to them and those
who wanted them run out of town.

I returned to the hotel creating as much mirth among the villagers as had the other trip. That night
I ate in the tent very aware that men were standing just outside the door. There must have been
some way of spying on me because every time a glass was empty or a dish finished somebody ran
in and took care of it. As I said creepy. Thinking about going to sleep I could hear music getting
closer to me. I looked out to see the local dance group of about 20 people heading towards me.
 Normally the group performs in a large tent with a large audience; some bright spark thought it
would be a great idea for them to be forced to perform for just me in the garden. A chair was
bought out for me on the porch and perform they did. The costuming was beautiful and the
dancers were very good  but I could see them looking at each other wondering why they had
been called out for one person and how much money they were going to make. I had a bit of a
scare when one of the dancers with a bowl of flames on her head walked onto the porch area and I had visions of the tent going  up in flames. After a couple of dances I took pity on them and suggested
they stop. They sat around for a bit and I queried them about their outfits and who had made them.
Out of guilt for the group having to leave their families just for me I over-tipped.

In the morning I walked out of the tent  to discover even more men hanging around the camp. Breakfast
was a repeat of dinner with  men hovering everywhere. We hit the road again heading for Samode.

Samode is just outside Jaipur where I was to meet up with a tour group for the rest of the trip.
I was staying at the Samode Palace, it was initially built in the 16th century as a Rajput fort, built in
the early 19th century, under the nobleman Rawal Berisal, it was converted from a fort into a palace.
As we drove in I looked with dread at the stairs. I just knew that I would be on the top floor and
 heritage buildings don’t have elevators. I was right.

The Palace is still used for receptions and gatherings. 

The women's quarters allowed them to look into the reception rooms below without being seen. 

The areas are heavily mirrored to allow for light to be bought in.

My leg had now turned a really interesting black from the knee to the start of my toes.

 The next day the driver turned up unexpectedly to take me to some of the local gardens. I haven’t
really mentioned the driver but he was great under very difficult circumstances. The pain had made
me reasonably self-absorbed but he made sure that I saw all the sights whether I wanted to or not.

On my final day with him we drove into Jaipur along a 6-lane freeway. This should have made for
a  fast trip except for all the cows that were sleeping or just wandering across the highway.

Shivanth Singh Rathan invited me to take tea with his family and I went with him. His family
was charming but as no-one spoke English there was a lot of smiling and nodding.

 I was getting closer to the tiger.

Looking for a tiger in India....part 1

 I was going to find a tiger.

 There are only around 3,500 tigers across the entire Indian continent.

 They are endangered and sightings are rare. I realise that looking for wild
animals can be very dangerous. 

I didn’t realise that this search would have me rushed into hospital for emergency surgery.

In 2005 we had gone to Mumbai and Tamil Nadu to pitch for our first Indian client. 

By mid 2006  the contracts had been signed and work had begun. Omar went to Mumbai

start the implementation of the program. 

 He was meant to be away for three weeks and ended up staying  for two months. 

He stayed at the Taj Lands End and had wonderful views of the start of the monsoon season 

breaking across Mumbai from the Arabian Sea.

 He had to drive to Andheri everyday for work and was constantly hassled by begging children. 

Omar developed the habit of filling his bag with fruit from the Taj. He figured that the children would be able to eat the food but would have to give any money to their pimp.

During this time he went on a site visit to Udaipur and drove to Pune to check out computer developers. Nothing came of either trip but he got to see more of India.

A resting sacred cow in Udaipur

Udaipur

Food seller Pune

Beggar Pune

Shop keeper Pune

Temple Pune

He arrived home grey and weak with dysentery.

Omar had to go back in September for more work and we decided that I would go with him. 

After a week in Mumbai I was going to Rajasthan to look for a tiger.

We arrived early morning to be assaulted by the noise, smells, pollution and chaos that are Mumbai. 

We’d booked into the tower section of the Taj Hotel, in Colaba, to save a bit of money. In 2005 

we had staying in the heritage section of the Taj and loved it. As we were checking in the concierge 

came over and directed us back to the heritage section and upgraded us to the club floor.

 The trip was looking up already.

 

This floor was seen in flames during the 2008 terrorist attack.

We mainly worked and acclimatised ourselves to the heat and humidity with an occasional wander 

around the general area. The beggars where still there, and the taxi drivers still used the gutter as 

their latrine. You always got into a cab from the road side as the footpath side was unspeakable.

 

Because I was flying out of Santa Cruz we moved to the Sun’n’Sand Hotel at Juhu Beach 

to be closer to the airport. Juhu Beach has a reputation for luxury hotels that are frequented by

Bollywood film stars. This hotel was not one of them. We were met at reception by three identical,

 very large gentlemen in very formal suits. They each did just one thing. One looked at the passports,

one took our details and one handled the keys. They recited a detailed list of the things that were 

forbidden at the hotel. The place was clean enough but was very tired. We went to the pool to get 

some lunch but the kitchen was closed. We could eat in the dining room but couldn’t take anything 

outside. It was a bit like Fawlty Towers.

Juhu Beach was crowded with families picnicking, paddling and playing cricket. 

We were the only Westerners on the beach and attracted quite a bit of attention. 

The views along the beach were spectacular and the cool sea breeze was refreshing. 

We did find some of the luxury hotels that had been mentioned and they were very grand. 

We had all our meals at these rather than risk the Sun’n’Sand.

We also took a side trip to the Basilica of Mount Mary in Bandra. The Portuguese built a 

chapel  here in the 17^th century, the current chapel dates back to 1904. The Basilica is visited 

by Parses,  Hindus and Muslims as the veneration of the Virgin Mary transcends their normal 

religious barriers. It’s famous for its strange rituals to reinforce the power of prayer. Worshippers

place wax replicas of body parts on the altar so the Virgin Mary can heal that particular body part. 

The wax parts are available outside at stalls; dentures, legs, noses, feet and much, much more.

 I would have loved to fill my case with body parts.

Now the adventure really begins. The search for a tiger.

Omar was staying in Mumbai to work and I was flying to Udaipur and staying at the Shiv

Nimas Palace Hotel. The plan was, with a driver, to go across country staying at out-of-the-way

places, visit Jodhpur, and to meet up with a tour group in Jaipur. The group was going to tour 

Jaipur, drive to Ranthambore National Park to look for tigers, catch a train to the Keoladeo Ghana 

National Park at Bharatpur for bird watching, drive to Agra via Fatehpur Sikri and finish with a 

drive  into Delhi. I was to stay in Delhi for a few days before flying back to Mumbai. 

Well that was the plan.

Omar saw me off at Santa Cruz airport and I was greeted at Udaipur by a travel agent who 

took to me to the hotel at the Shiv Nimas Palace. This is the largest palace complex in Rajasthan.

It was built in 1559 by the Maharaja Udai Singh.

Just a short explanation of all the palace hotels throughout India. The Raj loved building palaces. 

They would build one as their summer retreat, another as a hunting retreat, another one for winter 

and another for their favourite wife. You get the picture. Well it was easy for them as their subjects 

paid for the construction, the royal families didn’t. Because the palaces are such a rich part of India’s heritage the government paid for their upkeep. When Indira Ghandi was prime minister she saw the 

inequity of the rich being paid to look after their numerous palaces while a large part of her population starved and she stopped the practise. If the clans couldn’t afford to keep their palaces they had to 

sell them. The excess palaces were snapped up and became luxury hotels. Most families kept their 

prime palace as their home. But even then the palaces are so large that the upkeep needed to be supplemented by turning parts of their home into hotels as well. So you can travel across India 

pretending that you are part of the Raj.

I was lucky in Udaipur as a decade old drought had broken and Lake Pichola was full. 

The Shiv Nimas Palace complex comprised eleven palaces with courtyards, pavilions, terraces

and a hanging garden. The Royal family still occupies a large section of the complex that is off-limits 

and I saw the prince’s polo horses being exercised. As well as a hotel the palaces have been turned 

into museums and tourist attractions.

 

Udaipur is a pastel city. Very pretty. Everything is painted in soft pastel hues and has a genteel 

feeling of decay. I visited temples, went on a boat ride around Lake Pichola and went over to the 

famous Lake palace for dinner. The Lake Palace was built in 1753 by Maharaja Jagat Singh II as 

a summer palace. It is now a beautiful but over-priced enclave for holidaying Europeans.

In the lake are many small islands that have built on by the Royal family for observatories, dining rooms and get-aways. The Shiv Nimas has a beautifully located restaurant, the Sunset Terrace that over-looks the Lake Palace and is aptly named. The evening views were breath-taking.

 

In Udaipur there is a great museum of folk art, toys and puppets, the Bhartiya Lok Kala Mandal. 

There are colourful dioramas depicting dances from the local villages. The collection is worth visiting although the museum is dusty, water-damaged and in need of a large injection of money and care.

I also went to Saheliyon Ki Bara, the Garden of Maidens. It was built in 1720 by Sangram Singh II

for the 48 female attendants who came as part of a wedding dowry. Although the palace was large 

there was not really a place for women to be outside without being seen so this was built as a get-away for them. The design revolves around some very clever engineering and water management. There are fountains everywhere and they were designed to operate from gravity feeds from a local dam.

On my final day the travel agent picked me up and introduced me to Shivanth Singh Rathan. 

He was to be my driver for the next five days as we drove across Rajasthan. The plan for the first 

day turned out to be overly-ambitious. We were to head off first to Ranakpur, one of the most holy 

Jain temples, and then onto the Nimaj Palace Hotel. Nimaj was only 180 km away but because of 

the condition of the roads it was to take 7 hours. Our first stop, Ranakpur was 2 hours north.

 At Udaipur I made my first mistake, white women sit in the back of the car, not this one. 

I had no intention seeing Rajasthan looking over the front seat of a car, I wanted to see out the front window. That settled we departed. Later in the trip an older English woman saw me get out of the car. She came over and told me that I was doing the wrong thing and giving people the wrong idea of 

my relationship with the driver. 

Off we went to find a tiger.