It's the Fort That Counts

Sunday 11th May

- Chittaurgarh Fort
- fleapit central (part 2)

we had only been in Chittor one day, most of which we had spent asleep, and we already wanted to leave. it's as if someone has sucked the life out of the town. facilities and services are poor, by Indian standards, the main roads are heaving with trucks and accommodation is either exclusive or non-existent. the people, on the whole, are smiley and friendly as always, but we can't fathom why anyone with the means to choose would live here. however, the reason we were here at all was the Chittaurgarh Fort and today was set aside to explore its scattered acreage and key sites.

the history of the citadel might help to explain the malaise that pervades the town. its earliest parts may date from the 7th century, but things really kick off when the founder of the Mewar dynasty decided he wanted it for his capital. in 1303, a Delhi sultan besieged the city and said that he would only withdraw if he could catch a glimpse of Mewar ruler Rana Ratan Singh's famously beautiful wife Padmini, which to us said a lot more about sultan Al-ud-din Khalil than his military skills. lots of plotting led to Ratan being kidnapped and Padmini trotting off to the Muslim sultan's camp with a vast number of troops cunningly disguised as maids of honour. how stupid was this sultan? the rescue was successful in that Ratan escaped - 7,000 of the 'maids' were not so lucky, which led to the fall of the fort due to insufficient defenders. sensibly, 13,000 women led by Padmini decided that the best thing to do was to commit jahar, committing ritual suicide rather than be taken by the Muslims, so they all threw themselves and their children onto a huge funeral pyre. miffed, the surely impotent sultan threw his toys out of the pram and trashed the place, before leaving.

most forts would make do with one ghastly tale of mass stupidity, but after recovering for a couple of centuries, pretty much the same thing happened again, complete with another mass jahar. by the time that Mewar was ruled by Udai Singh, he'd already decided his new city of Udaipur was a better capital - and who can blame him? as if to hammer home the point, Mughal emperor Akbar the Great lost many of his forward thinking ruler badges by laying siege to Chittor in 1567, a process that was bloody even by the city's unfortunate history and resulted in an horrific, third mass jahar. even when he had won, Akbar decided that the best way to underline the victory was to kill the 20,000 simple villagers who were seeking refuge in the fort. little wonder it was Udaipur that became the capital, or that Chittaurgarh feels so tired and dead, notwithstanding the bright greetings of its people.

this also helps to explain why much of the interior of the fort is in ruins or merely rubble, but it's of no less interest as a result and in fact it made a nice change of pace from all of the picture postcard palaces we had seen. to get there, we caught one of the town's curiously raked rickshaws from a driver who made the mistake of stating his cost price first.

the seats slope steeply downwards, so that your head is in the covered roof and you cannot see out, although there are two external, rear-facing seats also. what we could see as we drove through the town made us disinclined to stop for a stroll.

in order to get to the fort entrance, you have to pass through seven gateways on a road slowly winding up the steep slope to the top, surrounded by massive bastions. how had this place fallen three times? the rickshaw was not a poor one, but the slope was a struggle. only a few people still live inside the fort walls, clustered around the final, Ram Pol Gate. all the signs and guidebooks say to go right at this stage but, for no particular reason, we thought that we'd tour the fort the other way around.

passing large areas strewn with garbage and dotted with rooting pigs, the ramparts offered us long distance views - or would have done, had we been able to see much through the haze. the sun was already very bright and hot, but we could also just see a massive factory on the horizon in both directions, their chimney's lines breaking up the fog. in short order we came across the ruined Ratan Singh Palace. beside an artificial lake with vivid green water, what was left of the palace was still impressive, comprising pavilions, kiosks, temples and ghats. at the latter, children played and swam in the suspiciously coloured water, while bright colours were everywhere as women thrashed laundry on the stone steps.

apart from this, it was very quiet indeed up here. we headed East across the narrow width of the fort, a blasted landscape of cut stones and the occasional structure, which left just enough for the imagination to piece together a vast interlinked complex of rooms and buildings. walking down the East walls offered a cloud's eye view of the fields far below, barely more than silhouetted in the haze.

from a distance we'd seen a tower approaching and we eventually reached the Kirti Stambh, or 'Tower of Fame' and its accompanying temple.

both were covered in fine detailing and carvings.

it was very peaceful here, and we spent a long time admiring the impressive tower with its six intricate rising storeys while the sounds of prayer filtered out of the temple.

it had been built at the turn of the 13th century, yet here it still was, despite the fort's history, enduring like Qutb Minar in Delhi. as we were leaving, a large Indian tour group comprising only men came up to us and asked for a photo - it seems that Edd, or at least his hat, is as much a draw as Philippa, sometimes!

crossing the escarpment West, the whole mood of the day changed. we were instantly reminded that it was Sunday when we hit the opposite road. it was packed with Indian holidaymakers, motorbikes and rickshaws whizzing about and sounding horns, stalls selling food and drink and temple offerings and hundreds of people who clearly didn't visit the North and East of the citadel. a main site of congregation was the Vijay Stambh, another complete and even larger tower modelled on the more peaceful Kirti Stambh. since we could not even buy a drink here without spurious taxes being added, and the crowds being thick, we headed South to the other monuments with the aim of coming back North when it was quieter, in the early afternoon.

although we did spend all of the afternoon deflecting persistent teenage boys away from Philippa, this proved to be a good decision. we popped up to what is left of Padmini's Palace and toured the ruins.

Padmini's Palace ruins, Chittaurgarh

it was a change to see the tourists on camel rides or having their photographs taken in traditional dress being Indians rather than gullible Westerners.



Edd had the 'traditional sweets' our shuffling waiter had given us over breakfast at the Meera (a fairly expensive and unusual tasting fruit salad). the sweets were various unidentifiable substances wrapped in a skewered leaf of some description, it tasted of roses and was quite fragrant, but its texture was like chewing twigs mixed with pickled fruit.

we were grabbing drinks whenever we could get them at fare price, as it was noticeably hot and there was very little shade up here on the escarpment.

we rested in a ruined archway and enjoyed a few peaceful moments away from the crowds, but even that didn't last long, as eventually two young men stopped their motorbikes to come over and practice their English. a snake drifted under a stone to hide as we wandered around the extensive ruins, watched by black faced monkeys that sometimes ran across our path. in its glory days, the fort must have been spectacular, wide-ranging and hugely extensive.

retracing our steps on the busy road led us past the heavily active Kalika Mata temple, a clear source of devotion for pretty much everyone visiting the fort. opposite, massed ranks of stalls sold prayer beads, flowers, sweets and coconuts, the basic ingredients of the blessing service, while others hawked less holy items such as CDs and so on. women with heavy, hanging nose jewellery passed in groups chanting from beneath half-covered saris in vivid pinks, oranges and vermilions. groups of men sat and discussed what they wouldn't be doing later, coralled by their motorbikes, while the wives and children waited separately under trees. it was a scene of great commotion and commerce, with us standing rather incongruously in the middle.

then we were back at the Vijay Stambh, which had mercifully calmed down a little since we were last there. it stands in bright green gardens filled with gateways, temples and ruined structures, as well as a lot more monkeys, for whom sweets were bought and offered by the Indian visitors. we even saw the only other two Westerners we would see all day in the fort. it was also here that we discovered our left turn at the entrance and longer walk had managed to avoid the entry charge, as Edd was asked for his ticket when he went to climb up the inside of the Stambh. they let him in anyway.

with Philippa staying at the base of the nine storey carved tower, Edd didn't wish to keep her waiting, but a fast ascent proved impossible. it was certainly navigable inside, if a little cramped, but large groups periodically had to find some way of getting past each other in the narrow sides that you walk around after each still narrower stairwell.

the interior of the tower was a darker brown, almost bronze, compared to the yellow stone outside, but this could have been due to age or pollution. there were regular carvings all of the way up of good quality, even if many had been defaced, possibly following the various Muslim sieges.

mind your step!

nubile dancing figures and gods made up the majority, as is usually the case! at the very top, a surprisingly large and ornate room had suffered the same blight of so many of India's monuments - scratched graffiti.

in the roof of the Vijay Stambh, Chittaurgarh.

but there was still much to admire, not least the view, nearby over the area around the tower, and further off to the Kirti Stambh. you don't seem to be able to climb the latter, and that's probably a good thing.

outside of the Vijay Stambh, detail.

carved stone with entreaties to the gods, Chittaurgarh Fort.

eventually Edd made it back down where Philippa had been dealing with group photographs and leery, young children - well, boys, it's always boys. nearby, the Samiddhesvra Temple stood out for its very deeply incised exterior carving, including elephants fighting, demons and a stripper - sorry, 'devine nymph disporting herself.'

that a country with so much nudity - and much more - on its temples can be so hung up about sex never fails to amuse and confound.

some of the spread out ruins and structures of Chittaurgarh Fort,

with the Vijay Stambh left of centre.


half way up the Vijay Stambh, with Padmina's Palace in the far distance
and the Fort's never ending ramparts surrounding.

Samiddhesvra Temple, detail, Chittaurgarh

Philippa showing a use for umbrellas other than poking troublesome young boys.

carved temples are a feature of Chittaurgarh Fort and we still weren't bored with them, despite five weeks now of seeing them in India! almost immediately after leaving the Vijay Stambh and the Samiddhesva was the Kumbha Shyama Temple, a large Hindu pantheon with a lovely curving pyramid-style roof and a mass of chiselled stonework all around, echoed by a smaller temple at the back corner of the same enclosure. even the least significant places of Hindu or Jain worship have some excellent masonry to impress or astound.

our final destination of our tour of the fort was the Palace of Rana Kumbha, built by the eponymous leader in charge during one of the fort's happier and more prosperous periods, although he built it on the spot where Padmini and so many others had killed themselves, so it seems that they liked to be reminded of the grim history.

it's the first place that we have been that feels a little bit like a European castle, in terms of its crumbling walls and faded glory, if not its architecture. we bumped into a family we'd seen riding camels earlier and the parents could be heard priming the children with English-language questions before they appeared and the usual litany of interrogation began. such conversations are perfectly pleasant, just a little wearing when it's your 50th such call and response of the day and your strength is sapped from shadow hopping through the sun on an elevated rocky outcrop.

Jodhpur. no, it's Chittaurgarh from above. really!

farewell to the Fort.

passing through the entrance to the audible confusion of those working on the ticket booth, we thought that we'd catch a rickshaw back to our hotel, but there were none to be had. a couple that already carried 9 or 10 - a feat in itself - stopped and in all seriousness suggested that we hop on, but that was a triumph of optimism over pragmatism. regrettably, we ended up walking down the steep road and through all seven gates and some way into town before a lift became available, a total of 10km or so for the nicely hot day. we went to the expensive mid-range hotel mentioned in our guidebook, but their service was non-existent and we left without ordering or having the chance to do so from its overpriced menu. defeated, we caught another rickshaw to the other budget option in town other than the Meera, the Chetak Hotel opposite the station. it was then that we discovered that the Meera was actually the best, cheaper option in town, even with its grimy interiors, incessant noise and apathetic staff. the Chetak - named after Pratap Singh's famous horse we'd been trying to get away from in Udaipur - was a mass of building work and its rooms somehow managed to cost more than the Meera, even though it was right on the main road. we drank two litres of liquid each before we knew it, Philippa also having some chips (called 'finger chips' here, as crisps are known as 'chips'), which were as usual smothered in pepper.

a little concerned about the possible effects of the sun, we trudged back to the Meera past a groom and horse wedding procession and a vegetable market where one of the women selling produce had an apparently tame green parakeet on her shoulder.

rest after all of our day's activities was considerably disturbed by the appearance of a member of staff trying to unlock our door while we were in the room. he materialised with no English other than the words 'air cooler' carrying a rubber tube in his hands. he even came into the room where we'd been sleeping, Philippa having to escape to the bathroom. he did not even have the wherewithal to explain in sign language what he wanted, while Edd tried everything to get him to indicate why he had appeared. this went on for 5 minutes or so until Edd had a total SOHF (Sense of Humour Failure) and eventually managed to get him to leave. it's trying on the brain to deal with a man brandishing a rubber tube when you're in your underwear. Edd went downstairs to reception a few minutes later to try and find out what was going on. he quickly attracted around 10 members of staff, all male of course, who had left whatever jobs they weren't doing to convene a mother's meeting around him. none of them spoke English. they eventually found a businessman who did and dragged him in as well. first Edd was told that we would have to move rooms - again. then he was told that they had to replace the air cooler, even though we were only using the overhead ceiling fan anyway. finally, the businessman asked Edd, 'so what is it you want?' apoplectic, Edd told the story again and was rewarded with the useless information that the original guy had wanted to add water to the unit. so much effort for so little. why the enquiry had to involve all of the staff of this crappy little place we don't know! get a few women involved and it would have been sorted out much quicker. no wonder this male-dominated country takes so long to get anything done.

finally, we grudgingly descended to the restaurant and our now usual waiter, who we had nicknamed Igor for his shuffling gait. we swear that his red service jacket has never been washed. it had long oil stains down his back, oil spots all over the front and one arm ripped at the rear, revealing that he doesn't wear anything underneath. the local region's obsession with pepper is beginning to grate - it was now even appearing in our lassis. Sunday's must be the big eating out days, for while we were among the first to sit down, the restaurant filled quickly and noisily and stayed full all night. one party of young men next to us used the entire contents of a pepper pot - unscrewed and emptied first onto a plate - on their already pepper-covered salad. Igor shuffled around between tables ineffectually, while the restaurant was quite dim, due to the constant power cuts that the hotel and town had been suffering - everything was running off the back up generator. we practically shoved our money into Igor's hands to escape the weirdness and go back to our dingy little room. once there, we made the rather late discovery that our Udaipur travel agent had ripped us off for our train ticket - he'd done it so blatantly that we'd missed the fraud completely. great.

we loved Chittaurgarh Fort and would gladly recommend it to anyone. but, dear reader, we must say that, in our limited experience, it's only the Fort that holds any reason at all to come to Chittaurgarh. all things going well, we'll be out of here tomorrow, more than enough to help us go to sleep that evening.

take care

edd & philippa