First stop New Delhi...
With its magnanimous architecture, wide sweeping streets, tree lined avenues and history that spans millennia; Delhi is a city not to be rushed. And I haven't even mentioned the glorious food or the many markets crammed into its alleyways. Unfortunately, exploring Delhi was not part of our wanderlust; it would need to wait for another time. Also, I found myself inadequately prepared for all the questions that were bound to arise from the facts of the British ruling over India and its subservient and sometimes brutal past. Wish Horrible Histories would publish a book about the CommonWealth nations. However that did not stop us from quick curio collection on Baba Khadak Singh Marg. Now this street is my most favourite part of Delhi simply because it houses cottage industry shops of almost all states of India. So if you are looking for stamped leather from Andhra Pradesh or Gond Paintings of Madhya Pradesh or slate homeware from Nagaland, this is the place. Another favourite jaunt is the Dilli Haat (bazaar or market) where crafters and artisans are promoted to sell their wares through stalls. This is a great place to buy textiles especially luxurious woollens from the foothills of the Himalayas.
Our Caravan sets off...
After the quickest ever stop in New Delhi, our bags are loaded into the cars for the first leg of our roadtrip - Agra and Mathura. While we were planning the trip there was a whole lot of hullabaloo around World's eight wonders of the Modern Age - if you recollect we were even asked to vote for our preferences. Our little boy was so amazed that India, with its dying and the downtrodden, could actually have a modern age wonder. The Taj needed a definite visit. Entering Agra gives an ominous feeling because I have to admit it is not the cleanest city. It is densely congested and there is only one rule on the road - chaos. However as you get near the Taj everything changes rapidly, thanks to its UNESCO status. You are promptly escorted to a parking area where there are just a couple of jewellery sellers who are not in the least overbearing. There are horse carriages or electric cars to take you from the parking to the ticket booth. Funnily, you aren't allowed to carry chocolate inside, so instead of throwing away the 6 bars of Dairy Milk we found ourselves stuffing our faces with them.
The Taj itself is a glorious monument. It is a reflection of the art of the possible. It was very helpful to get a guide (extremely fluent in English) to explain not only the architecture but the social, political and historical context of its construction. The romance around its build is still just as strong but there is a ruthless hint in its construction as well. I found the lattice work in marble and the coloured inlay work most fascinating. To think this was all hand chiselled and there were no lathes to help the artisans still gives me goose bumps. The sprawling formal gardens and the synchronised fountains add to its glory. It sits on the banks of the river Yamuna which has been dramatically cleansed through years of effort of local agencies. A reflective pause on the viewing gallery gives you just enough time to imagine yourself dressed in Mughal finery being serenaded by peacocks while the sun dips over the Yamuna.
Magical Mathura...
Mathura has always been a popular religious destination where Lord Krishna (a beloved god in Indian mythology) spent his formative years. We've grown up listening to stories of his triumphs over evil demons who came in various guises and his mischievous tricks on the people of his village. He was adored by all despite his stealing butter and blaming his friends or bringing chaos on his loved ones while he took care of the bad guys. Visiting Mathura was a different experience for each one of us - parents overwhelmed by the sanctity of the place bowing down their heads in respect; me finally being able to put the stories of childhood in context, our little boy thinking how cool it was to jump into the river to fight a snake, or bash the demons guised as a bull or a donkey. However, the trance was short lived as religion in India is an industry. So be wary of the many many priests in this region who will pray on your behalf to the god almighty for blessings at a price. Naturally, you are gullible and at your most vulnerable especially when roadtripping with your family so take a stand one way or the other... I am sure God will understand.
Royal Rajasthan...
We had planned a royal stay at the Jai Mahal (a Taj Palace hotel) in Jaipur, Rajasthan. August is Monsoon season in India and not exactly tourist hotbed so many hotels have promotional rates. Be sure to ask, because like us you could land a bargain. The Rajasthani people are renowned for their hospitality. They treat a guest in their house next to God himself and will ensure every whim and fancy is taken care of. This sums up our experience of the stay in Jai Mahal. The beautiful gardens have plenty to keep little ones engaged from tennis to croquet to swimming to live peacocks. Monsoon gave this hotel a mystical aura with rain drops glistening on the grass and mist shrouding the balconies. Of course, it poured by the buckets while we were there so we never made it to Amer Fort, of which I have nothing to write about (blah!!!). But it allowed us to retreat to a verandah of the hotel and eat steaming hot onion bhajis with sweetened tea. Jaipur's main market square is brimming with little boutique shop each specializing in its wares. So make sure to pick some lovely jewellery of handmade beads, embroidered kaftans and if you fancy even beetle nut in different flavours. To try out local cuisine you must visit Lakshmi Misthan Bhandar (or LMB as locally known). It is advisable to not go there raving hungry but it is a struggle to find seating immediately. Once you've jostled through the crowd and have got your breath back make sure to try their authentic thaali (which translates as one ginormous plate of delicious food).
Rajathan is well known for its crafts - be it wooden carvings or block prints or the retro tie and dye. I stumbled upon a little village just outside of Jaipur called Bagru, while doing my research on textiles. The artisans of the village have created a co-operative and work on a socialist method of distributing work between themselves. With the power of the internet they are reaching out to buyers directly thus increasing their reach and profit margins. They have also tied up with a university in USA for fellowship program in social enterprise and are being assisted by students of this program to further reach out to a global audience. I believe this to be an inevitable direction for artisans where embracing online channels will only lead to further development. But visiting this village to spend a day with the people with your roadtripping family was a whole different challenge. The journey was a constant drone of groans and moans. But once there, the enthusiasm of our hosts and an opportunity to actually learn block printing first hand proved a wonderful catalyst. This visit is highly recommended for everyone who loves their art and craft. They run guided tours of their village and conduct a block printing workshop - age no bar.
Jodhpur was the last stop on our road trip, but it was the grandest. Visting Mehrangarh Fort was a surreal experience. This fort is serious royalty. It rises, almost like Kryptonite, over a mountain and surveys all the land beneath. Its jagged contours project a harsh strength but it is a mere deception. Inside it lies a surprisingly gentle beauty which springs upon you almost unexpectedly as you turn a corner. The architecture is divine, in particular the special or khaas durbar of the king studded with coloured glass. The grandeur is unashamedly on display through the solid silver carriages and the jewel studded scabbards. As you walk through many passages in absolute awe of the age this fort represents you come into the ladies court. Here we found the private nursery of royal babies with latticed windows and stuffed toys where toddlers might have played pranks on their carers, oblivious to the gravity of their birth. I have often wondered how it must have felt being born in an era of kings and queens living in the grand quarters of this fort. I would have probably ended in one of those blue houses down in the valley of this grand fort, too poor to be invited inside...haah. Glad to be born now with travelholic genes where the kings and queens are long gone, but have left us an inheritance to explore.