TUESDAY MARCH 9TH - WEDNESDAY MARCH 10TH
Jodhpur chai break, Jaisalmer, almost to the border of Pakistan (well, 75km away from it) and back to Jaisalmer.
Arriving on a public bus, the landscape around was barren between the villages. At one point we spotted a group of army tents and tanks, which really put the Pakistan-India friction into a visual context.
An hour or so before Jaisalmer, on one of the frequent pitstops the bus provided us with, we were approached by a guy supposedly advising us on what to do and expect there. He then attempted to sell us his camel safari and promote his hotel, and he was not to be the only one. As a group of seven, of which five of us were clearly foreign, we attracted the attention of many hecklers, who swarmed around us as soon as the bus ground to a halt.
"Camel safari, camel safari!"
"Only eight hundred rupees!"
"Best price, best price sir!"
"Somewhere to stay?"
"My company will take you into town, no charge, come with me!"
No matter how many times we denied any offers of transport and safaris, they continued to stalk us down the street. Apparently there was no union here, and this escalated the competitiveness, to the extent that some people offered us camel safaris for only four hundred rupees (about €8).
We chose to head down to the Tourist Office we'd spotted on the way in, and got ourselves a camel safari with an overnight in the dunes. After lunch we were driven up to the fort (which looked like a massive sandcastle, the sort the five-year-old me would have dreamt of making) by an enthusiastic driver who kept offering us beer.
We dropped off our stuff and got back in with the chubby chauffeur, who was now asking us to sing him a song. He drove us out along a single road which seemed to go on forever (actually, it lead to the Pakistani border). We pulled up at a small village in the sweltering heat, plonked on hats and smeared on sunscreen, and then clambered on to camels (which were really dromedaries).
Off we went.
An hour or two later, we arrived in what could almost be described as a field of sand dunes. It was hemmed in by scrubby desert, but was sufficiently large for us to imagine the rolling hills stretching out into the horizon (and for us to take pictures to that effect).
We buried ourselves in the sand, had a campfire (including singalongs, which our guides asked us for) and slept under the stars. It was wondrous to be so far away from the 'usual' environment, and so comfortable to be lying on the cool sand after the heat of the day.
In the morning we munched on bananas and set off again on our camels. Mine was called Mrs India, and was apparently already, at the age of five, already a grandmother.
We rode for a couple of hours, managed not to tumble off whilst galloping (my camel guy even made motorbike noises while the camel ran, it really added to the experience) and got back into the city.
After spending the day wandering around the fort (naturally after having showered and washed all the lovely sand out of ears and hair and toes), shopping for leather bags and shawls (oh we do fulfill tourist expectations) we boarded a bus heading to Pushkar.
(I feel I am omitting something by not mentioning that of course, we did not simply board the bus. We hurriedly caught rickshaws down the hill, found that, unusually, the bus had been early, and left, without us, and we caught more rickshaws and attempted to still catch it. We didn't quite manage, but we got on another bus, pretended to have seats and sat very still whilst the ticket collector came by. Oh India.)
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