Jai-pause

Monday 14th April

- enforced relaxation

contrasting fortunes overnight meant that Edd had enjoyed over 10 hours of AC-assisted sleep as his body rehabilitated itself, whereas Phil had managed very little. we had planned to walk the few kilometres out of the city in the early morning to Galta's temples and famous 'Monkey Palace,' but - to Edd's enduring dismay - he clearly wasn't up for it and just did not have enough energy. so, our last full day in the Diggi was to be a predominantly sedentary affair.

we did, however, pop to a money exchange and then back to Anokhi to send things home, ferried again by Ashok, who warned us against using the Muslim rickshaw drivers who, unlike him, would rip us off. we've heard this sort of thing a few times - it seems that only the Sikhs have a get-on-with-it, even-handed approach to more or less everyone.

as we gracefully zipped up the wrong side of roads with Ashok, it was worth reflecting that a rickshaw is essentially just a three-wheeled scooter, driven by handlebars fixed with a brake and accelerator and started by a floor-mounted handle. sometimes it's only the legend 'Piaggio' on the back that reminds you that they are really bikes with extras.

we spent the afternoon making the most of our last afternoon in the Diggi's wonderful garden, full of bickering peacocks, strutting birds and the ever-present, chipmunk-with-a-tail like scurrying squirrels. tomorrow we move on to the Pearl Palace, a plush sounding and massively recommended budget hotel that is over half the price of the Diggi, which is really over our budget. yet more afternoon sleep and Philippa had caught up on her own lost hours and Edd was - finally! - back to full strength and rather hungry!

we had another look at Indian TV again. it's a very strange affair; any one station virtually channel-hops itself, jumping apparently randomly between music videos, soaps and films, with an over-riding imagery tinged with Western influences and aspirations, including the now too frequently espied adverts for skin-lightening products and macho images of suggested and actual violence. it was illustrative to note that so many of the actors in adverts are far whiter than the majority of Indians you meet from day to day. all this plus, of course, seemingly endless commercials and busy, on screen stings.

a typical Indian drama. well, alright, it's some Doctor Who-type programme, but anyway...

we paid up all of our rent, the nice hotel manager telling us that the 'photograph' of an older Indian man, regal in fine attire, that hung in a prominent position in reception, was in fact an antique drawing of is great grandfather. the Diggi has passed down the generations and it was quite apparent that the manager still considered this marvellous graphite evocation of his late relative to be his superior, referring to him quite seriously as 'the boss.' stomachs keen to receive food again were filled at dinner as the last of the Ram festival fireworks thundered and burst nearby. strangely tired from a mostly inactive day, to sleep we went, perchance to dream.

our very best

edd & philippa