This will be my first significant solo trip for nearly 40 years!


Udaipur: Maharanas and Maharajahs



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Udaipur: Maharanas and Maharajahs

Thursday 20 January


The key thing about Udaipur is that, unlike other famous towns in Rajasthan, it was never overrun by the Moghuls (or British). This is the reason, I was told, why the king of Udaipur is entitled to call himself Maharana, whereas the other leaders are slightly inferior Maharajahs. The founder of Udaipur, Maharana Udai Singh II, fled from the sacking of Chittorgahr in the 17th century and began the work of building the City Palace and enlarging the natural lake with a huge dam.

The City Palace is actually a complex of palaces, with each successor to the throne adding his bit, though in a fairly homogoneous style. The first impression is one of sheer immensity. Then one of needing a lick of paint! The exterior is all a creamy white paint and although there were men working on this, it clearly needs an assault by an army of painters. Inside is less run down, because there is less paintwork; rather there are walls on walls of decoration, often using the small mirror pieces much loved in Rajasthan. There was also a splendid collection of miniature paintings, for which Udaipur is famed - I must ask Ursula more about these. There were also the usual breathtaking views across the "lake" to the distant hills.

I got the odd glimpse of the VERY upmarket hotel contained in the City Palace. It looked very plush and in better nick. The maharanas and maharajahs of Rajisthan lost a huge amount of wealth on independence and in 1972 lost most of their political power, so - particularly as ancestors tended to squander huge amounts - they are now struggling to maintain these huge edifices. To do so, they have created a new profession: successful hoteliers.

In Udaipur the problem is compounded, according to the Guide Routard, by the fact that the previous maharana left the title to his oldest son, but all the wealth to the second son, and these two are now at war with each other.

I returned to the City Palace terrace for another attempt at sunset views and I'm quite please with the result - but how much better it would be if there was water. (stop moaning) I met an English woman whom I had last met in Jodhpur, and it turned out we were both planning to go to the same show of Rajasthani dancing, though she is attached to a highly organised and well run group (run by Trotter and something). Not my cup of tea, but several members of the group have told me they are highly satisfied with tits organisation.

The dancing took place in the Begorah-ki-Haveli, which turns out to be absolutely beautiful - I will return in daylight. The show was in the central courtyard, with tiered seats around for the audience (I spotted and sat next to two Italian ladies whom I had met in my hotel and later in the museum). I was late, and the dancing was only an hour, but it was truly splendid. I wish I had had Sarah (Avril) there to explain more! The highlight was a woman doing a dance from the Thar desert, based on games the women used to play when collecting water from the wells. She first did a dance - then repeated it with a water pot on her head - and repeated it with two water pots on her head - and repeated it again and agin until she was balancing six pots, and at one stage walking on glass. The dancing was obviously for the tourists, but the group is apparently a genuine effort to keep the tradition of Rajisthani dance alive.


Trying to recover from tummy bug

Friday 21 January


I decided to extend my stay and not leave till the 23rd, in an attempt to calm my tu8mmy. So frustrating, as Udaipur was the place I was going to have sat on terraces admiring the view and eating!

After a session on the internet, I chatted in a leisurely way to the owner of the hotel. He is an absolutely delightful elderly gentleman who tends to greet you like the host at a country house. He was helpful about advice on the next stage of my route, to Bundi and on to Jaipur. He also has a hotel in Jaipur (which I had already marked as a possible) and I'm going to change my reservation for Hotel Diggi Palace, which I have heard from a couple of people is a bit dodgy, albeit well situated. After that I will be back to budget hotels to make up for this lapse into relative luxury (ie 12 rather than 5 or 6 quid!).

He also gave advice on didgy tummies: drink only banana lassi and when recovering a gentle dose of plain white rice. Since then I have been surviving mainly on banana lassis! He said he could get me a doctor, but since I already have antibiotics prescribed, the best thing was to start taking them if I was still not well in a day (this is now over four days of being unwell and apart frokm anything else, it is fatiguing).

I asked my host about the history of the hotel. He explained that it had been a guesthouse for the visiting maharajahs. He is the uncle of the current maharana, ie younger brother of the previous one, and this was part of his inheritance. ("I was lucky enough to be born with a silver spoon in my mouth.") He turned it into a hotel about 320 years ago, rebuilding the block I am staying in to match the style of the main, original building. He said that he did not seek to expand, being satisfied with the modest revenue it earned and clearly appreciating a fairly laid back life. I congratulated him on the atmosphere of the hotel and the excellent staff.

In the afternoon I took a rickshaw trip to the nearby craft village of Shilpgram. The actual village turned out to be a bit of a mistake. It had an interesting display of traditional mud huts (my driver swore that he grew up in one like that), and I watched a jolly dance (from Gujerati rather than Rajasthan, I think), but there were also the usual stalls of artefacts, with artisans eager to sell. There were very few visitors, so I was an obvious target.

The journey to Shilpgram was interesting: we passed Lake Fateh Sagar, which was totally dried up (I took a photo of cows grazing and boys playing cricket on it). This was sad as in the centre is a popular garden - Nehru Park, usually accessiblye by boat.

Supper was banana lassi - and because I was starving a vegetable thali, which I gave up half way through. (Mistake to even try it.)



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