The train. An overnight train. I was recovering physically and emotionally and here we were boarding an overnight express train to take us back up towards Delhi again. 

This was the train we were taking to Jaipur. We had now finished our two ‘charity’ stops. I think we were all emotionally and physically worn out. Now it was time for some rest and relaxation.

But it did mean getting back on an Indian train… see previous blogs for my mis-adventures on the Indian railways.

Blash, splosh, splat. Adventures in an Indian train toilet.

Surely it could not be as bad as the first trip? Thankfully due to a constant diet of very safe potato, cauliflower, water, Chi and a couple of glasses of coke my stomach was in no mood to play its tricks again. 

The greatest compliment that I can pay this journey is that I can recall so little of it. One might almost say it was a positive Indian train experience. The heat had made us tired, we were mentally catching up with ourselves but on this trip we were altogether in one carriage. 

I think it was first class as I recall clean white sheets being delivered. Sitting on the top bed I watched the landscape go by, this ancient, traditional agricultural society. Watching as small villages came and went. Small herds of oxen, cows or goats. People whose lives I would never encounter and never understand. They would live their lives in their society and I would live mine in mine. 

We crossed great rivers and long, seemingly unending plains. And then I slept. I slept very well. I do not even think I visited the toilet once. Thank you.

Tuesday 30^th October 2012

Morning, and the train pulled into Jaipur. I hadn’t seen the city approaching and I was geographically at a loss again. Another time I would enter the city properly, but for now it was a rush at the train station. 

Gilly commandeered some tuk-tuks and we were off racing each other through the streets.

It was a city, unlike Delhi the traffic was moving and everything seemed less hectic. The race was exciting, we got to know the tuk-tuk drivers well as we trusted them and they would escort us for the next few days.

We criss-crossed roads and then entered a mixture of large houses, banks and grand hotels. Rising at the end of the street was the Umaid Bhawan hotel https://www.umaidbhawan.com/, a magnificent building with domed towers and balconies high above our heads. Surely we would not be staying in a place as luxurious as this?
(I have no affiliation with the hotel and the website address is here for reference only – but if you read on you will realise my affinity with the place and staff).

Our accommodation so far had consisted of our hotel in Delhi, the train to Sevagram and the huts at the Centre. Each one had created their own challenge.

Walking through the doors of the Umaid Bhawan lifted my spirits. It was full of white marble with black inlays. There was a sense of luxury and refinement that we had not seen elsewhere. The manager was welcoming and you sensed that he was in total control.

He summoned a group of porters, all professional and polite, and they whisked the students efficiently away to their rooms. With all the paperwork completed Gilly took her key, I took mine.

After a short journey through a maze of staircases, all finely decorated with paintings and sculptures, I entered my room. 

(In your mind I would like you to start  humming the glorious finale from the Hallelujah Chorus)

Luxury, absolute luxury. A big double bed with a sumptuous mattress and luxurious white duvet. White marble floors, velvet hanging curtains and a bath and shower that looked (and worked) as if they were new. And a fridge – fully stocked. This room was of the highest standard and you would have felt the luxury no matter where in the world you were, and you would expect to pay a lot of money.

Everyone was excited and exploring, there was less need for security than Delhi. It was like there were secret passages, but they all eventually came out in the reception of the roof-top restaurant.

I was going to cash-in here. I went to the bar. Unfortunately it had just closed, but the staff were so well trained in serving their guests, the bar man approached me and asked what I wanted. I asked for a couple of cold bottles of Tiger beer. He took my room number and said they would be along soon.

Back in my room a few minutes later there was a knock on the door. There stood a cheery porter with a tray that had two large bottles of beer and a Tiger beer glass. I overpaid, thanked him and sat on my bed with a cold beer poured.

Luxury, absolute luxury. I felt a wave of relief crash over me, it was quite emotional. For the first time since we stepped out of the airport I was totally at peace. Jaipur was going to allow me to recharge my batteries and take stock of what was happening. It was an oasis in the middle of the turmoil that was swirling around in my head.

I have a confession – the Tiger beer glass remains with me to this day, every time I drink from it I recall the pleasure of the UmaidBhawan. May I apologise to the manager, but hope through these scribbled muses somehow he will receive recompense. 

The evening meal was be taken on the roof that evening. It offered stunning views over the rooftops and to the hills beyond, where the pink palace was situated – our destination in the morning. 

We could order from the menu with absolute confidence and we sat and talked late into the night. Gilly was relaxed and suddenly there was a new bright atmosphere. As the night went on the city skyline lit up, we could hear the vibrant city. But I was happy to be behind these walls, protected and looking out. 

With wi-fi available it was a chance to get messages and photographs home. At the end of the night the room was waiting for me, with its effective air-conditioning. Lying in that comfortable bed I drifted off to sleep, comfortable and at peace.

Breakfast was efficient, Harry tried a curry based breakfast, others ordered eggs as we could watch them being cooked in front of us. Harry would always experiment with the food, he was certainly putting himself forward as someone embracing the culture fully. But that was what the trip was about, and I think that was lost on me at this point. I played safe with the food – too many memories!

Jaipur is one of places that is on the checklist of most tourists. The city is ringed by large, spectacular hills which are adorned by various buildings. There is pink and orange everywhere, partly due, I think, to the local pink granite.

Next time we venture out into the pink city…