Saturday, December 31, 2011

India Part 6: Amber Alert!

Eight painstaking hours from Udaipur to Jaipur is punctuated by the occasional chuckle-worthy sight. If this isn't farm-to-table dining I don't know what is.


In India, anything with a motor and four wheels is a treasured commodity. This fellow is still waiting for the return of the glory days of the British Empire. I tell you old sport, back in my day Ta-ta was the sound of our drums as our boys marched forth to add another colony to His Majesty's realm.


The Hawa Mahal, or Palace of the Winds, pretty much sums up why they call this the Pink City.


Let's see if we can keep the hustlers away long enough to get a photo in. Madam, have a lookee, best prices I make. Madam, we have many sizes, have a look, yes? Sure they're the best prices... if you're the merchant.



Now here's a shop that's guaranteed to offer a good deal. With Rock's bargaining skills, the customer will always come out ahead. That's a promise.


The main reason to come to Jaipur, other than to visit the aforementioned establishment, is the mighty Amber Fort that towers over the city's outskirts.


The best way up the mountain is on the back of a mighty but surprisingly docile pachyderm.



Thu's elephant must be thinking he hit the jackpot. After a hot morning's work lugging load after load of tourists who look like they just waddled out of their local IHOP's All-You-Can-Eat-Tuesday, he scores the lightest cargo of the day. And that's including 5kg of camera gear.



Come on guys, when they gave you your Elephant License they must have taught you that downhill pachyderms have right of way at one-way arches?


You don't realize how high these beasts stand until you get on one. For Thu, it might as well be the top of the Empire State Building.


No danger of losing the hat up here. Apparently elephants can run up to 25 kmh, but today they seem quite content to plod along in an orderly line. For once, even Mei isn't complaining about the lack of progress.


Luckily the fort's architect designed the place with the big guys in mind.


But don't worry, little guys are also welcome.


The first thing that strikes one about the Amber Fort is its monumental scale. The entry courtyard it so big it could easily accommodate an entire army and their elephants. Which on reflection is the whole idea. Of course, whether it is big enough to fit the innumerable touts flogging their "lookee, real gold" elephant statues is another question.




Like the other forts in India, this one wasn't purely for raining deathly armaments down on the hapless enemies below. Between battles there was plenty of time to enjoy the finer things in life. Let's face it, the best way to get the chicks is to have a ginormous fortified palace on a prime piece of mountain-top real estate. Nice to see that with all of civilization's supposed advances, some things never change.



They don't sell walls like this at Ikea.


In Rajasthan at this time of year, water is about as rare as someone who offers you a service without expecting a bit of palm greasing.


StarCam (tm).


According to our rival tabloid, TwoPhatKiwis, this room was designed so that a women could maintain her modesty while still being able to see out. Kind of like an early version of a tinted Hummer.


In the battle of the Bond girls, one always ends up dead, and the other ends up in bed. Unfortunately, when you're chasing a family-friendly PG rating, a threesome never seems to be an option.


Speaking of Bond girls. Just watch out for the miniature rocket launcher she keeps in her purse.


Spacious digs. You could fit a whole Manhattan block in here wit room to spare.



Perfect size for a crossbow.


The serpentine walls that radiate out to the surrounding hills offer yet another line of defense. Seems a bit overkill really, the fort itself would be hard enough to take as it is. But when you've already got infinite gold, precious stones, chicks, and elephants, there's really not much else to spend all that loot you plundered on.


That wall looks suspiciously like the backdrop for a firing squad. Perhaps it's time to stand somewhere else.


There's so many rooms in this fort it's not clear what they were all for. After all, back when this thing was built you probably didn't need a TV room.



Out your best archer up here, and you never need to worry about your enemy getting within spitting distance of your front door.


It's also a good spot to entertain your lady visitors. There's nothing quite as romantic as watching your vast army subjugate another rival city-state from the comfort of your back porch.



Sure beats the few wilting herbs on a windowsill that make up most Manhattan gardens. Then again, it's a lot easier to keep the weeds out when you have a whole dungeon full of slaves to do the dirty work.


Finally a person-sized door. Uhm, when we say person, we of course refer to a normal sized person. Mei still can't reach the top.


Amber Fort would be a fitting finale... if the next and final stop wasn't the mythical Taj Mahal.



This is some sort of lake palace. By this point it's pretty much a case of drive-by sightseeing as Team J00ster wearily checks another box on the endless list of must-sees.


In Jaipur you have a car lane, a bus lane, and an elephant lane. Not that anyone actually bothers to follow the road markings.


Sure haggling for 10 minutes over 10 cents is not the act of a rational economic agent, but there's principal at stake dammit.


Jaipur feels like one big market. No wonder the prospect of Walmart coming in is such a hot potato issue. How dare those foreigners launch a second colonization under the ludicrous assumption that people might actually want to shop without the incessant battle with touts, fakery, and deception that make the markets such an enjoyable experience.



After the incredible City Palace in Udaipur, Jaipur's version that bears the same name is a bit of a letdown. Of course, after a week on the road the bar has been set pretty high; if one doesn't get there on the back of a lumbering elephant or if it doesn't overlook a stunning Venetian water-palace, it's barely worth seeing right?


Butter chicken or lamb korma tonight? Oh come on, enough of the pretense, you're not fooling anything. Just get the butter chicken already.


Friday, December 30, 2011

India Part 5: Who let the cows out?

When you don't even need to get out of bed to photograph a sunrise like this, you know you've scored a winning hotel.


Of course, the fact you're up at this hour in the first place means jet lag is still lurking in those interminable  hours between midnight and dawn.



Sun's up folks, time to hit the city. Today's agenda involves curry, a lake cruise, curry, a City Palace tour, curry, and perhaps a midnight snack of curry to polish things off.


The funny thing about those sacred cows that everyone professes to love so much: they never seem to show up in the rich folks' compounds. It's almost like they're easier to deify when you're not up to your ankle in a juicy cow patty.


The Ladies of the Lake. Nothing like a bit of alliteration to get the heart fluttering.


A life vest is all well and good, but the reality is a hazmat suit would be a better option before taking a dip in these waters. The lake looks pretty, but that's because e. coli is a bit hard to spot, even with 10 megapixels behind the lens.



Was that sari cleaner before or after it went in? Looks suspiciously like Rock's dishwashing technique.


We could have saved ourselves the early alarm and just jumped out our window into the boat.


Hey it's last night's dinner spot. Is anyone else a bit peckish? I wonder if they have a boat drive thru around the corner?



Land ho! A herd of marble elephants is waiting to welcome the mariners to this exclusive island hotel/restaurant. After dodging stray creatures - and more importantly their byproducts - on every street, a marbleized herd is looking quite appealing.


Better Mosques and Gardens is back with this exclusive photoshoot of Bollywood beauties luxuriating in the luscious surrounds of an island hideaway.



I'm seeing a lot of luscious surrounds and not a lot of Bollywood beauties. Was anyone else really looking forward to a titillating ankle flash?


That's more like it. Now all we need is catchy, all-cast song and dance number. It seems gyrating in a bikini is ok, as long as there's... uhm... a bouncy musical accompaniment.


Bring back the babes! Bring back the babes!


Now we're talking. Then again, anyone can look good pre-cow patty.


Want to see one of those infamous Indian weddings but don't have a third cousin with an invite, or failing that a herd of scrawny cows you're looking to offload? Never fear, just gatecrash.


Hey if they didn't want hangers on they wouldn't commandeer a whole street for their elaborate procession to the bride's house, complete with horse-mounted groom and a Wedding Wagon (tm) creaking under a tower of surround sound speakers, the better for booming out the latest Bollywood numbers.


The rituals also seem to involve the carrying of brightly colored pots on the heads of the female guests. Like most things in India, the guys seem to have got the better end of the deal. Riding an enormous boom box down the road whilst blasting out the latest hits at decibel levels last recorded at a U2 concert, or carrying the family heirlooms in a pot on your head. Yep, it's good to be a guy.


I'm sure the dress code was Red Sari.


Sure intricately embroidered saris are nice and all, but sometimes a bit of skin doesn't hurt.


Young padawan, much laziness I see in you, yes.


The interior of the City Palace is everything the hot, thirsty masses dream about as they look up longingly at those insurmountable walls whilst eking out a meager existence in the shadow of unobtainable wealth.



No wonder the powers that be don't seem all that flustered by piles of festering trash on every street corner; from up here the town below looks sparkling clean.



Rock shows worrying signs of the third most common disease after malaria and typhoid: the dreaded Touristitis. Common symptoms include deep sighs at the prospect of trudging around yet another temple/fort/palace, glazed eyes when confronted with another epic vista, and lack of appetite when facing a another bowl of curry.


Regrettably, the only known cure for the debilitating disease is a Big Mac Combo. We're a long way from a golden arches that serves anything other than McLentils.


The Indian culture defies easy categorization. On one hand, artisans of incredible skill are willing to devote their whole lives to crafting exquisite works of art; but the effort of actually putting one's trash into a bin is too much to ask.



Mei's dream is to come back as an Indian princess...


...unfortunately the big dude is thinking more along the lines of a millipede.


How about we compromise and settle on a peacock?


Sure it's a nice courtyard, but does it have wifi?


Leave the kid jumping into a pile of poo scene for bleeding heart Hollywood liberals, here is Bollywood we know what people really want is a dance number!


Apparently India is one of only a handful of countries where Pepsi outsells Coke (Pakistan being another; probably the only thing the two warring states actually agree on). But after Team J00ster's visit, one suspects Wikipedia needs to update their facts.


In a country with as many eating options as India, there's no good reason to go to the same place twice. Actually there is. The cake and ice cream selection at Edelweiss - a quaint German cafe squeezed between endless purveyors of curry - is a powerful magnet for those hankering for less spicy fare. Or those thumbing through Lonely Planet.


If its prime lakefront real estate isn't enough to sell you on the Lake Pichola Hotel, you should check out the rooftop restaurant.


Save the stunning views back over the lake to the City Palace for later, the curries are coming!



The rooftop cabanas are the perfect place to unwind with a few hands of Scum. Unfortunately, the distracting view was the root cause of Rock's epic losing streak. Yes, really.