Packing it in

Thursday 22nd May

- more fun with India post - we keep going back for more.
- Hymns in Marble, Part II
- lunch with new friends
- Nakki Lake and Honeymoon Point
- a fond farewell

our time in places such as Chittor, Kota or Ahmedabad in recent days had been salved by the beauty of Bundi and the reinvigoration of Mount Abu, but today was to be our last day in the latter and we wanted to make the most of it. consequently, we did the unthinkable and got up early to make sure. in addition, the only train we were able to get tickets for tomorrow leaves just after 6am, necessitating a departure from the Shri Ganesh at around 4:30am, so we figured that we ought to begin to bring the rising times down a bit! the morning started with an overcast sky, but the sun soon burned that off, even though the hill station retained its cooler feel all day.

it was with a strong sense of deja vu and a steeling of the soul that we set off for the GPO after breakfast, following the discovery - with some of Sanjay's hits and misses included - that we had yet another good-sized bundle of items that would not fit in our bags. we figured that it would take the usual 2 hours! the post office was small and quiet, with only one customer - surely we'd be out of here in no time at all? as in Udaipur, however, we'd have to go elsewhere to get the parcel cotton wrapped as required. the location this time was a non-Sanjay tailor's nearby in the main bazaar - one of the staff there recognised us immediately as 'friends of Karina,' as he was also one of the film crew members from a few days ago! the most senior man in the tailors sewed an incredibly intricate cotton second skin around our package with added wax seals, but it took him an age, although not through lack of skill; his lack of urgency allowed his staff time to try and sell us saris, suits and suchlike. he showed me a mark under his nail and one on the other side of his finger where the sewing machine had been overzealous earlier and skewered his digit. it looked very painful indeed but he just shrugged it off and said that you have go and get on with things - in India, a day off or lost is business given away to others and no food for your family.

Philippa asked the staff whether or not they knew where to buy the really plain and basic, coarse red and black striped dhurrie that gets used all of the time as a covering or base layer by stallholders and pretty much everyone else, too, at some point. we've been looking to buy one for quite a while - for about half of our time here so far, in fact - but it has proven highly elusive to purchase, even though you regularly see it in use. they brought out several progressively plainer dhurries, but they were all very obviously not just red and black striped. still looking a little confused, the staff said that they believed that someone in the bazaar had one, so Philippa left with one of them. Edd sat and drank his offered chai and spoke to the senior guy, who was still patiently sewing away. it was only us there, now, as the rest of the shop staff had melted away once they realised that we weren't buying anything today.

the trip to the bazaar proved fruitless for Philippa, as she'd been shown still more multi-coloured patterns. she explained the design again - it really is as simple as described above - and the lead staff member suddenly recalled that he might have a spare one upstairs in his other shop as part of his materials for his own use. he came back with exactly the one! Philippa likened it to a tourist in England asking where they could buy a basic Marks & Spencer's plastic bag - one just assumes that you can't possibly want the basic, ordinary one. the price seemed steep but the dhurrie is huge, at least 6' x 8' if not more.

despite claims to the contrary by the post office, the tailor's had neither post forms not a felt pen to finish off the package, but the cost for the cotton sewing was a third of that we paid in Udaipur, once again underlining the dangers of not knowing the cost of things in India! back we went to the post office, to discover that they had no felt pens - and no post forms, either! we had been foolish to believe that such things would reside in a post office. they assured Philippa that the customs necessities of the post forms 'would not be required' while Edd hastened back into the bazaar to buy a felt pen. he did find one - next to the tailors who wrapped our parcel. Edd saw them at a distance and they nodded and pointed next door before they'd even been asked anything. information is never volunteered in India, it seemed to us, and if you don't ask the right exact, specific question, then you won't get the correct answer. this can be a problem is your question is prompted by ignorance, as almost all of ours are.

thrilled and elated by this week's pointless bureaucratic buffoonery but still managing to smile, as one must in order to retain one's sanity at times, the package was addressed and handed over. where it will actually end up, and when, we cannot predict. it will be nice if it gets home, but it was now left to faith, as usual. time elapsed for the sending of the package - hey, what do you know, a total of 2 hours.

a chai and the disarming power of the stallholder's massive smile soon brought us out of our torpor. we slotted in a brief drop off for the massive dhurrie at the hotel prior to finding a jeep and setting off once more to the Dilwara temples, in hope of having more time - and space - to take in the detail and devotion.

sewing in the street, Mount Abu

as we arrived only just after 12 noon, when Jain temples in general seem to open to the public, the two main buildings inside the complex were quiet and calm. as time wore on, more and more Indian tourists appeared, but in nothing like the numbers of two days before, with many in tour groups being hustled through. left to our own devices, we were able to sit and really take in the levels of ambition and technical mastery that envelopes every visitor to the Vimala Vasahi and Neminath temples. individualities on each figure, animal or demon become more distinct, so that each assumes its own personality, as must surely have been intended. you can believe the claim made in our guidebook that the Vimala Vasahi took 2,000 craftsmen 14 years to complete.

it was a real privilege to be able to have what turned out to be a total of almost four hours in the temples over the two visits. we almost certainly got a great deal more out of them and noticed a huge range of new features and details, as well as having the chance to see the various aspects work together to give incredible panoramas without everything being obscured by hordes of (other) tourists and pilgrims at festival time. a desire for a drink and snack eventually led us out, but we had also been receiving a steadily increasing degree of unwelcome and sometimes rude attention from the Indian tourists. gawping and staring, gesturing and giggling from an individual or just a couple of people is bearable, but repeated instances from large groups of people about three feet from you, or from packs of young men towards Philippa at a coward's distance, can even distract you from the marble artistry that you, at least, are immersed in.

a shared kusta puri outside was a useful and tasty antidote to any negativity generated by the Indian approach to international relations. it was amusing to see the levels of dreck being sold at the stalls outside after marvelling at the temples' interiors, like alcopops after fine wine, or Tracey Emin after Degas. after a bit of difficulty locating a taxi in these post-festival times, we secured a cheap ride back into town to make a late lunch date with Jeremy and Karina, with whom we had been generously invited to Sanjay's place above his tailors for a home-cooked thali lunch.

the meal was cooked by Raju and Rajju, woman of the house and one of the men respectively. we all sat on the floor on a rug laid there for the purpose and the entire lunch proceeded with someone sleeping on a bare mattress only feet away, face and torso obscured by a sheet, with no comment or concern from anyone. Sanjay came up after we had started, as he had a little oddly already eaten. the repast was of course delicious and very filling, with a rich curry and flavoursome dal plus the usual pleasant rice and potato concoction. in common with all Indian offers of food, it also came in inexhaustible quantities. it concluded with a very sweet dessert, 'unique' to Mt. Abu; it looked a bit like saffron-coated sultanas and tasted of sugar and moreish decadence. Raju and Rajju were, of course, excellent hosts. various members of the extended family came and went, as they all lived in this upstairs space. Sanjay was pleased to have us all there, but it was clear that Karina was the family's main focus, only fair since we had only just met them.

Philippa, Rajju, Jeremy, Karina, Sanjay.

it was a shame to have to leave their welcoming hospitality, but we had to let them get on with their afternoon, and we had our own plans, too. for us, this meant our long-mooted tour of Nakki Lake and an exploratory trip to see if we could find the viewpoint area of Honeymoon Point. we'd also arranged to have a short farewell with Jeremy and Karina in the evening.

the route up to the not very amphibious Toad Rock was already known to us, so we chose to go anti-clockwise. on this route, the crowds and stalls thinned out rather more quickly. before long, there were few people around. Philippa demonstrated her keen eye by somehow managing to find one of the miniscule screws for the nose piece from Edd's sunglasses that had fallen off into a pile of sand! repairs made, we took the path skirted the edge of the lake by the large jets of water and watched pedalos bravely try and scoot underneath them close to source, attempting to avoid getting wet and pleasingly failing repeatedly.

some money has clearly been spent on facilities for tourists in Mt. Abu at least, with regular viewing areas and benches along our route. the Indian majority who make up the visitors here had gaily decorated them with carpets of crisp packets, bottles and glass, creating a festive atmosphere.

the view across the lake as we traced its diameter was lovely, a fine backdrop from the water jets on our far left across the seaside-style main tourist drag, your eye picking out the various craft being taken for a spin on the water before being led up to a large and striking heritage hotel (one of the pricey ones!) that looks down over the town until finally resting (from this angle) on Toad Rock's decidedly angular features. it was cool, relaxed, peaceful.

Toad Rock. doesn't look much like one now, does it?

there were very few passers by, with the notable exception of a large group of Sikh men out on a run, platoon style, in matching blue and orange track suits. we found the turn off for Honeymoon Point and expected it to climb upwards to look over Nakki Lake, concerned as to whether or not we would have the energy. but we'd got it wrong - the road sloped down instead, through a valley full of black-faced monkeys eating fruit before stopping at the drop-off to the plains below, a dizzying descent made a little easier to take in as the atmosphere was hazy and muted.

lots of little stages had been tastefully constructed on the top edges of the slope, so that you could have your 'own' viewpoint each. in the height of the wedding season, each one must have a couple and accompanying photographer to capture 'their' moment.

bar the odd child occasionally demonstrating the amazingly grating properties young voices have in an echoing environment, it was a soothing place. an Indian family passing by at one point made the fatal mistake of making unmistakeable crisp packet noises, attracting the swift and close attention of a large black-faced monkey. no one was concerned for their safety as much as their food, which the family hid with varying degrees of success.

crisp thief

we encountered a wandering salesman, a man who looked like he had done an awful lot of wandering. appearing more like a saint or holy man, he was offering spices, remedies and cures from a patchwork shoulder bag that looked older than he was. softly spoken and with no real salesman's push about him, he showed us all sorts of products from saffron to tree sap that was as hard as rock. for each tincture, friable stone or extract he had a recipe or two for good health, as well as photos of those (mostly Western) souls who had previously bought from him. Edd picked up some wood amber, to keep in the bags to scent our rapidly disintegrating clothes. the salesman weighed it all up on a portable scales that appeared from his bag, a receptacle that seemed to possess TARDIS-like qualities. he was without doubt one of the coolest people we've met in India.

get your remedies here, I'm not asking five for one, I'm not asking five for two, 3 for a fiver, can't say fairer than that, love.

heading back home, we passed an orange-robed man sitting on a wall gazing out across the lake in silence. he seemed to have the right idea, we thought. we spoke briefly with him, asking him about something was sprayed in white paint on the road, which he said was for a recent TV advert.

he had a becalming voice and presence, aided somewhat by his being strikingly attractive. we later walked by some holy men by the lakeside sporting outrageously tikka'd foreheads, two encounters that distracted us from the near constant litter, which even ringed the lake itself. just before we got home, a sizeable group of fit looking souls strode by, decked out in climbing gear. there is something for everyone, it seems, in Mt. Abu.

after so much activity and offsetting relaxation, we began packing our bags with contentment and pleasure that we had made it here and slight irritation that we were getting up before dawn to leave it and return to Ahmedabad, of all places. we met up with Jeremy and Karina to say farewell - Edd gave him a bidi (hand-rolled leaf with tobacco) that a fine old friendly man had forced upon him in an act of hospitality, after we had met him on the road back from Honeymoon Point. along with our postal tailors, he had also invited us for dinner this evening, but he did live 37 km away at the bottom of the mountain, and we had an early start.

we said a fond farewell to Jeremy and Karina over an unplanned drink downstairs. we hope very much that we will be able to stay in touch with them. we have no doubt that we would never have enjoyed such access into the local community if it had not been for all of Karina's own efforts prior to our arrival. everyone was very welcoming to us as their friends and it enhanced our undeniable enjoyment of our time in Mt. Abu. but the travelling wheel rolls on, and new trains and destinations await us in the morning - rather early in the morning, at that.

may this find all readers healthy and happy.

tunzaluv

edd & philippa