Much like Woroniuk's quest for MexiFries(TM) across the mountains of Oaxaca and the plains of Yucatan, my search for jodhpurs in Jodhpur yielded no fruit. I threw my hands skyward and screamed, whyyyyyyy?! Why must my pants have tight thighs and loose calves, not vice versa? O cruel modern trousers!
I report with some happiness that it's been jeans-weather for the past 10 days, as we've crept into the subcontinent's more northern latitudes. I loves me some jeans. According to reports, I was not born wearing them, but ever since... I'm reminded of an incident at a Jordache mall outlet in Idaho (Montana?), where I mistakenly tried on baby jeans, thinking they were denim shorts. The denim of the early 90s lacked the forgiving stretch-cotton of today. I got plenty stuck. Luckily, my mom heard my tearful cries from the fitting room and heaved me out of the baby jeans. But it was a near thing. I could have spent the last 18 years in 2x.
I've made a terrible show of blogging in the year 2011, so far. It can be so hard, as they say. A lot of ground has been covered. After Ooty, a charming little hill town, the family jam band ventured further into the state of Tamil Nadu. In Trichy we went to a big temple (photo - left) and in Thanjavur we went to a Big Temple. The Thanjavur temple is called Brihadeeswarar and it's pretty damn amazing. The Cholas who built it some thousand years ago are the folks responsible for bringing Hindu architecture/religion/culture to Bali, Cambodia, Thailand. Awesome show, great job! I've never been to Europe but nevertheless I scoff at the lazy bozos who were crying about the Dark Ages while Indians were getting busy.
Domestic air travel has really taken off in India in recent years. There's a good handful of airlines whose competition keeps prices decent. The sudden bubbling of the Indian middle class hasn't hurt either. So the family jam band took an aeroplane from Trichy to Mumbai, saw some sights, and bid fareful to the mumsies. Bye Mom! We were high on air travel so we decided to keep veepin'. Though lacking our star tabla player, the family jam band flew to Aurangabad as a jumping-off point for the Ellora and Ajanta Caves. Aurangabad's air quality was horrific, as bad as Delhi's, despite being only a fraction the size - barely one million people. Mystifying. As soon as we got off the plane my throat started to hurt and the phlegm built up. But the caves - yes - every traveller to India should see them. Our visit to the Ellora caves coincided with every single school trip in Maharashtra, so I was repeatedly swarmed by dozens of 14-year-old girls. "One picture, one picture!" Only one?? Not quite. And when they get their film developed (yes, they still use noisy old film cameras, bless them) what will they say? "Ah yes, this one is me and Gita and Karuna and our white lady-friend. And this one's a carving of Vishnu..." Who knows.
Back on the plane, the phlegm dried up and we landed in Udaipur, Rajasthan. Hark, clean air! My sometime nemesis, Lonely Planet, describes everything in Udaipur as "the most romantic ___ in India" and it finally got something right. Jodhpur next, with its incredible fort Mehrangarh, was a return to the loud and stinky city standard, but it was not without charm. And now: Jaisalmer. Udaipur was white and Jodhpur was blue, so Jaisalmer is sand-coloured. Yesterday spent the afternoon seeing countryside and riding camels. All is well.
Last night the family jam band formally disbanded, until our next reunion tour. This morning I woke once more a solo act. What now? Well, I'm sure as hell not starting a band called 'Wings' or letting zombie Linda McCartney do back-up vocals. No, sir.
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