Jodhpur – The Blue City

JANUARY 2012

From the mysticism of Varanasi to the majesty of Rajasthan, our 2012 tour of India continued; although not before a night of luxury in Delhi, courtesy of Le Meridien hotel. Beyond our preferred price range it ticked the most important box of not being the Ajanta – source of previous Delhi nightmares – see Delhi: A Comedy of Errors. Everything was spotless; everything was new; and everything worked – from the ipod docking station to the ultra thick black-out curtains. Strange what floats your boat innit? Black-out curtains do it for me.

And I didn’t realise that trainspotting floated Sue’s boat but with a morning to kill in Delhi, she suggested the National Rail Museum, and an excellent idea it turned out to be. Lots of colonial-era steam engines replete with royal history, up to some metre-gauge diesel monsters, and a few other very odds and ends thrown in. I’ll go and stand at the end of Platform 3 at King’s Cross in me anorak now.

An hour-long flight from Delhi and we were in Jodhpur in the once-royal state of Rajasthan. And while we were quite happy to use international chains in Varanasi and Delhi, in Rajasthan the done thing is old palaces and mansions, havelis, that have been converted into hotels. Ratan Vilas, was built in 1920, by Maharaj Ratan Singhji of Raoti, a royal from Jodhpur and one of the finest horsemen and polo players of his time – or so their website said. Originally the family home it was turned into a hotel by the grandson and great-grandson of the Maharaja, although it also continues to be their family home as well. The rooms were spacious if a little spartan, and nicely decked out with period furniture and fabrics. Mind you, they could have been bought the day before in the market for all I’d know. As nice as it was, it had a melancholic feel – as if modern day India has robbed the once-royals of their greatness and they now have to trade off their history in order to survive.

We immediately jumped in an auto-rickshaw and headed rather aimlessly into the Old City to have a quick look around. And like most Indian cities, it’s bonkers. The Old City’s famous landmark, the clock tower, stands at the heart of it, drawing all towards it. And next to it, Sadar Market retains a traditional village bazaar feel; chaotic, colourful and crowded. Every available space is filled with mounds of fabrics, carpets, sarees, and various other handicrafts. It’s no place for a demophobe. But it is fun. One irrepressible fabric salesman insisted on repeatedly reciting his list of high profile customers, which seemed to consist solely of Laurence Llewelyn-Bowen. Sadly his sales tactic fell on deaf ears as having lived in Hong Kong for aeons, and having no interest in home furnishings, I’d never even heard of Laurence Llewelyn-Bowen. But my man wouldn’t give up until my tolerance waned and I had to walk away. But he had made me laugh for while.

But Sadar market can be hard work, and we were happy to retreat to Ratan Vilas, and its highly recommended courtyard kitchen. Shame then that we were one of only two couples there.

The main attraction of Jodhpur – apart from voluminous riding pants, and yes, they genuinely do originate from here – is Mehrangarh Fort. And it’s no wonder it’s the main attraction as it truly is magnificent, looming large some 400 feet over the city. Rudyard Kipling apparently called it “the work of giants” and he can’t have been far wrong. As we wound our way closer and closer up the hill the size and scale of the buttresses just seemed to get bigger and bigger, its walls up to 120 feet high and 70 feet wide. And as the materials were chiselled from the same rock on which the fort stands, its intricate windows and arches merge seamlessly with its rock solid base.

Amongst the highlights are its seven imposing entrances, which include the famous Jai Pol (victory gate) and Fateh Pol. And within the fort are several brilliantly crafted and decorated palaces, including Moti Mahal (Pearl Palace), Phool Mahal (Flower Palace), Sheesha Mahal (Mirror Palace), Sileh Khana and Daulat Khana.  There’s an excellent audio tour available narrated by some Indian feller with a booming English public school accent – and, I imagine, a cracking moustache – telling tales of great battles and derring-do and the history of the royal court. It was fascinating stuff but it’s really the architecture of the place that made it so worthwhile, the sheer size and scale directly contrasted by the minute and intricate finishing. Kipling’s giants must have had nimble fingers.

And to cap it all the ramparts of the fort provide a breath-taking view of the famous old blue city.

For Jodhpur is indeed blue. We wandered down from the fort through the Old City, where many of the houses are painted a bright shade of indigo, apparently to keep the interiors cool and fend off mosquitoes – but if that is the case why isn’t all of South Asia painted blue? A more plausible explanation would appear to be that the blue coating on a house used to indicate that a Brahmin – the priests of the Indian caste system – lived there, although over time other people seemed to have joined in too. Maybe they’re all big fans of Chelsea?

Whatever. Somewhere in amongst all those old blue buildings and narrow alleyways we found the most excellent thali, that most delicious platter of vegetables, curries, curds, sauces and breads. And yes, these thalis are vegetarian, so yes, I voluntarily ordered a vegetarian meal. And it was delicious.

Spend a few more hours wandering around the backstreets and markets of Jodhpur picking up a few scarves and trinkets along the way. Then it’s back to the hotel for a dinner we are almost tempted to skip until we find the hotel courtyard restaurant full and lively in sharp contrast to yesterday’s emptiness. Where the hell did everyone come from?

Now, where did I put those capacious riding pants? 

Go to Jaipur – Pretty in pink