Let sleeping dog

(Two dogs. Pushkar)

I have been travelling pretty rapid fire the past week. Since my last entry i have tried to leave Pushkar. Failed. Dropping the singing lessons was like asking a pit bull to release a tasty limb. What followed? An adventure with my German friend, Jurgen. We decided to climb the nearby mountain range and follow its tumbling crags to the nearby town of Ajmer. The walk would not have exceeded 12 kms, but the terrain nagged with a hagged insistence. It took over 5 hours to reach our destination. Tired and hungry, we caught a bus back. It was one of the best days of my adventure thus far.

(On the way to Ajmer)


Pushkar was hard to leave. I started to feel myelf settling there in the wake of my initial impulse to go in search of new and unfamiliar lands. New people in town. A new sense of quiet. But the itchiness in my souls regaind its insectoid hum when Monica, a girl staying at the Rituraj Palace, said she'd like some company on the road to Jaisalmer. She seemed like good company and i liked the idea of quickly digging those desert cats before heading back to Delhi in a few days. So we shot to Jodhpur to spend a day in the blue city. Its labyrinthine alleys and hidden shops threatened to keep us a while. With a concerted effort we made the haul to Jaisalmer. Jaisalmer is all yellow sand stone. It appears that the city simply emerges from the wind swept surrounds, as though some god shoved an engraved block of a city into the desert earth and Jaisalmer was the result. Everybody who comes to Jaisalmer goes on a camel safari to the and dunes. Everyone. But not me.



(The dunes. Khuri)

Telling the guys at the guest house to jump in the lake, we took a bus to the nearby village of Khuri. Quiet, lonely and without electrical service. I didn't mean to stay the night, but we did. It was too hard to leave. Surya, the old Indian alcoholic who ran the guesthouse was a sincere and friendly man who didn't pressure us when we said we'd walk to the dunes and not take the camels. The experience of being there is difficult to recount. I remember being frustrated with many vendors selling chips and coca cola. The numerous contiki travellers who come to see a desert sunset. And i indulged a little self reproach for being there with them. For being just like them.

(The view from Jaisalmer fort. The delicate sand stone engravings)

That said, when i look at a picture of the desert sands, the low screaming sun, the cradling moon; i am thankful for having been there - to see that place, that colour, to have felt the rush of sand spilling between my toes and the gentle worry of sky in my hair. And i distance the cold, the impatience, the hunger i felt. I forget, perhaps selectively, the irritation at the other tourists; who stand with knees and elbows marking diamonds housed in designer travel fashion. Gone is the self reproach. Gone, my imptience with gypsies selling cola. In that memory i rediscover that deep and terrible sky, the cruel indifference of the threatening dark, coming, coming. And the stars above that looked so familiar and yet are so different to the nights i know at home.

(Kid on dunes)

The ride back to Jaisalmer the following morning is worth a note. The bus was full so i spent the hour journey riding on the roof with thirty-odd Indian men. It wasn't a train. But it was worth a dig. Arriving back in Jaisalmer we discovered we were being thrown out of our hotel because we refused to do the camel safari. Whatever. I was relieved when Monica and i went our separate ways. Nothing wrong. We just didn't have anything to talk about. We didn't even exchange email addresses.

(Sun set)


The 20 hour train ride to Delhi last night was an ordeal. My back still aches and i am thick from sleep deprivation. Delhi is exciting. Jas is here. It is a wonderfl optimism to be starting the next chapter of my travels with such a good friend. We head back into Rajasthan tomorrow, enroute to Bhundi. I never made it there before and hear its worth a glance. Then back into the south. But where exactly? I know not. I am thick with the lack of sleep. Delhi is expensive, and my Iranian Visa has hit a snag. I must go and negotiate with Iranians. I am feeling awful thick. No problem.
(Dunes)