Treasures of Bikaner

Saturday 26th April

- the Old City (Part Two) - the Haveli trail
- Junagarh Fort
- the changing face of Bikaner

Bikaner is not a very attractive city. the poor roads, congested traffic and an atmosphere often thick with choking particles mixes woozily with its open sewer runnels and massed ranks of dogs, cows, camels and rodents to create a less than fragrant cocktail. but you need not even scratch the surface to encounter the irresistable bonhomie of its people, while only a little effort is required to seek out some of its genuine treasures. today we saw both its glorious past and its tenuous future and ended the day wondering how long it will be before Bikaner becomes just another tourist destination.

skipping breakfast to give ourselves more time - and possibly also to avoid meeting our three 'shadows' yet again - we headed off around the corner to the Old City to half-follow the tourism office's 'heritage route' and the Rough Guides' attempt at the same, before visiting the gorgeous interiors of Junagarh Fort. it is said that getting lost in Bikaner's Old City is unavoidable and also probably the point, and its labyrinthine layout and lack of vantage points makes this child's play. we had hardly strolled through the Kota Gate when to our surprise (and also mild concern) who should hail us for a cup of tea but Safar. he must have hidden the tracking device in one of our hats, one of the few things we would always have on us. still pleasant, enthusiastic and limp, he said that he lived nearby, but possibly in the wrong direction from where we intended to go. although only around 9am, we did not want to be out in the sun too long, and were probably less than enthused about another church session, so we parted after our greetings with mutual consent.

we see these all over India - miniature discos on wheels for processions and wedding marches.

only in India does this image above a door make sense.

one of the main reasons for wandering around the Old City is its architecture. squeezed between the modern concrete and brick growths it sprouts are innumerable havelis and the odd temple; faded, carved remnants of another time. with its narrow streets and close packed buildings, plus the earlier hour, it was not uncomfortable to walk the relatively quiet thoroughfares and alleyways, often in generous shade.

on several occasions it seemed like we were in a bygone age. men drove donkeys and carts past women emptying buckets of night soil into the open drains. many of the havelis boast richly carved and decorated stone facades or balconies laden with intricate detailing, each standing strong over the twisting lanes above substantial wrought iron and wooden doorways.

the Rampuriya Havelis, three red sandstone mansions that appear incongruously around a bend in an otherwise unremarkable winding street.

then there's Kothrionka Chowk (square), where a glance up in any direction is rewarded by a profusion of examples of the art of master masons and carvers.

Diamond House, with each of its three floors presenting a slightly different style and overhanging the one below.

Kothori Bilding's (sic) rococo balconies heaving with stone carvings, beneath elephants, peacocks and busts of George V and Queen Mary.

the huge Daddho ka Chowk square, lined with large, three storey edifices, each trying to outdo one another in style and elaborate detail.

each appeared around an unpromising bend or from behind a poor, drab neighbour before disappearing just as swiftly behind you as the road hid its treasures once more.

finding many of them proved tricky while some remained elusive, but the whole experience was most enjoyable, not unlike some sort of giant Easter Egg hunt.

at the conclusion of our morning's meander, we passed through a bustling central area and down an unexpectedly macadammed sloped trickle of a road that opened up to reveal three temples, their towers reaching to the pale blue washed-out sky.

two Jain and one Hindu, they share a highpoint over the Old City in what was clearly a very sacred space for its inhabitants - this was the temple complex that the man waiting for his wife's sari had told us about. chanting was being piped via loudspeaker from within the largest temple, giving the outside spaces a heady, spiritual feel. we accompanied a self-appointed guide around its (no photographs allowed) extravagant interior, lined with shrines dedicated to many of the gods who we had come to know during our time in India so far. enamel and gold leaf painting fought for attention among marble carvings, doll-like images of gods and goddesses and the tinsel with which Indians always bedeck such holy places. it makes for quite a spectacle.

we caught an exhilarating rickshaw all the way back through the slender confines of the Old City's capillaries, many of them barely wide enough for one vehicle and pretty much bottlenecked when you add in a camel and a cart. now nearer 11 than 10, Bikaner had truly warmed up and the thought of walking anywhere for more then a few minutes was anathema. we disembarked a little less than a kilometre later outside the walls of the Junagarh Fort, strangely small compared to some of the structures that we had toured in Rajasthan. but what Junagarh lacks in exterior impact it more than makes up for in interior decoration.

before we could explore its wonders, you have to pass monuments to one of India's less palatable, more grotesque legacies. hand prints in stone of royal women who had voluntarily taken their own lives after their husbands had died in battle, to be remembered as satis, a horrible practice long-since illegal.

although we unusually had to have a guided tour, he really knew his stuff, was keen to respond to questions - although we were the only ones who asked any in a group of around 12 - and his overall information added to our enjoyment, a first for us with a guide in India. the sumptuous rooms you navigate, filled with everything from ivory slippers to chambers of heady decorative flourishes, are all technically on loan from the current rulers of Bikaner, hence the guide, but we did have closer and more extensive access to them, emblematic of Bikaner's more open and welcoming approach.

originally built in the late 16th century by ruler Rai Singh, successors had as usual added their own flourishes and touches, but more in decoration and art than the additional bastions and ramparts of the Mughals.

window carvings (detail), Junagarh Fort, Bikaner.

the pavilions and entrances to the various palaces were the most detailed and beautifully carved of any we have so far in India.

the high vaulted carved sandstone ceiling of the throne room would not have looked out of place in Hampton Court.

however, it is the interiors that fix longest in the memory. alternating rooms of red and gold filigree decorative painting and inlaid mirror and glass detailing thrill the eyes.

ornate swing - for Gods, never humans; Junagarh Fort, Bikaner

later parts of the palace from the last century contain very different relics, including a World War One biplane donated by the British as a thank you to the maharaja for the support of Bikaner's state forces.

we left the fort wishing for the option of lingering even longer than our well paced tour allowed, via a slightly unsettling moment where a large group of Indian tourists stood directly in front of where we were sitting and stared at us as if we were a zoo exhibit, not responding at all to any of our greetings or words from us. we had a look around the neighbouring Prachina Museum and then had lunch opposite the fort at a restaurant called Gallop's, into which two small coach loads of French and German tourists were soon disgorged. apart from two Westerner's disappearing into a private taxi at the Old City's temples, they were the first we had seen in quite a while. they could not be staying nearby, otherwise we would have seen them, Bikaner not being that large. the prices in Gallop's indicated that they knew their chief market, but the portions were generous as we finally ate for the first time at around 1:30pm.

despite the hour and an unpleasant, hot, dusty wind, we wanted to finish all of our expeditions for the day and leave the remainder to rest and packing, so we caught a rickshaw to an Oxfam-affiliated textile and handicrafts store with the awkward name of Abhivyaki,. it seemed to be shut, but our driver got someone to interrupt the owner's lunch via mobile phone and they came and opened up just for us, very kind and helpful indeed. as well as Edd finding two shirts that actually fit (!), the owner and one of his staff told us of the problems they faced. an ethically run, fixed price shop in a city, state and country where such businesses are still rare, strong arm tactics by key tourist operators in the city (mainly of one of the two main camel safari organisers) had restricted their attempts to market the shop to Westerners. they spoke about how such activities were changing Bikaner, and not in a good way; about how the desire for the tourist dollar was replacing openness with avarice and driving out the variety and more welcoming alternatives that did exist. we really liked their company and our conversation and were annoyed we'd missed out on the chance to stay at the guest house that they also run. they gave us some camel milk to try - exceptionally refreshing and delicious - that they were marketing as well, after the amazing discovery that no one in the caste that tended the animals has ever had diabetes; further research is now ongoing, with sale proceeds going towards this. we hoped that the future of Bikaner lay with people like this rather than camel safari touts like Rustam, but that seemed at least uncertain.

we spent the remainder of the afternoon - yet again on the 40C mark - resting and getting ready for our trip to Jaisalmer in the morning. although we always use the local stores, we did pop in again to the all new 'Mega Mart' down the road for some new biros for our journals. we have been in a few times for some minor things; the first time we were, again, the main attraction and were followed around the store by the excited and the intrigued. we'd seen a large advert for the store at the entrance to the Old City and it was only the second supermarket we'd seen since arriving in India. but a large store full of fixed prices did not seem much like India at all. people were visiting it like one might a tourist site to gawk and point and giggle. the concept of trolleys and checkouts was clearly alien to most of its customers. we this the future of Indian shopping? after all of our bazaars elsewhere and the enjoyment of the textile alleys in Bikaner, we sincerely wished it was not. but, like the problems faced by the people running the Abhivitaki shop, one could not escape the feeling that at least some of the writing was already on the wall.

satiated by Bikaner's finer aspects and in a reflective mood, we dined somewhere other than Amber to avoid our 'shadows' and enjoyed a cheaper and uninterrupted meal on a least a par with it. all that remained was sleep - poor, and regularly punctured by packs of barking strays - and a hope that this ugly city of wonderful people and hidden treasures does not lose the things that make it special in the years to come.

edd & philippa