Sunday 4 February 2018

Udaipur (1) Royal City: Rajasthan Part 10

India
Rajasthan
This post covers day 12 of a 16-day journey around Rajasthan.

The size of Germany, Rajasthan is the largest of India’s 29 states. With the Thar Desert covering the north and west it is one of India’s less densely populated states, though with 200 people per km² (the same as Italy) it is hardly empty.

Udaipur, the southernmost point on our circuit of Rajasthan

In the 11th and 12th centuries the rise of the Rajputs created some 20 or so petty kingdoms ruled by Maharajas - the ‘Rajput Princes’. These kingdoms, at first independent, later vassal states of the Mughal or British Empires survived until 1947, when the Maharajahs led their ‘Princely States’ into the new Union of India, creating Rajasthan (the ‘Land of Princes’). The rulers became constitutional monarchs until 1971 when the Indian government ended their official privileges and abolished their titles. ‘Maharaja’ is now a courtesy title, but most remain leading members of their communities and some are still immensely rich. Several, like their British counterparts, have supplemented their income by turning forts and palaces into tourist attractions and hotels.

-o0o0o-

Udaipur – A Little History

Maharana (a local variant of Maharaja) Udai Singh II ruled the Kingdom of Mewar from 1540 to 1572. He was the 53rd ruler in an unbroken line stretching back to 530 CE and the 18th Maharana of the Sisodia Dynasty which has lasted from the 1326 to the present day.

In 1558, with his capital at Chittogarh besieged by the Mogul Emperor Akhbar, he founded a new capital 120 km to the south west. With a maharaja's customary modesty he named the city Udaipur after himself.

He built his palace on the northern shore of Lake Pichola, an artificial lake created two centuries earlier but greatly enlarged by Udai Singh damming the Ayad River. Lake Pichola is now one of a series of lakes giving Udaipur its ‘City of Lakes’ tag.

The Royal Palace across Lake Pichola from the Lake Pichola Hotel

Across the Chand Pol Bridge

After breakfast local guide G arrived to conduct a walking tour of Udaipur. The Lake Pichola hotel is on the north-eastern arm of the lake where it narrows towards the canalised river. Following the alley Umed had driven down yesterday we soon reached the Chand Pol footbridge over the river.

The alley from the Lake Pichola Hotel

We crossed this bridge multiple times during our stay, but neglected to photograph it. Instead here is one from the bridge looking down the canal to the road bridge at the entrance to Swaroop Sagar, the next lake along.

Along the canalised river towards Swaroop Sagar

On the far side we walked beside the lake and…

Beside Lake Pichola

…past a Hanuman shrine.

Hanuman Shrine beside Lake Pichola

And paused to enjoy the view back to the Lake Pichola Hotel.

Lake Pichola Hotel

We reached the Gangaur ghat…

Gangaur Ghat, Lake Pichola

…and strolled through the yard of the Bangore Ki Haveli, about which much more tomorrow.

Bagore Ki Haveli, Udaipur

Jagdish Temple

100m back from the ghat and built on a high platform is the Jagdish Temple.

Jagdish Temple, Udaipur

Hemmed in by buildings, it is difficult (I found it impossible) to give a true impression of its size in a photograph….

Jagdish Temple, Udaipur

…though the details of its fine carving are easier.

Jagdish Temple, Udaipur

Built in 1651, the temple is dedicated to Lord Jagannath, regarded by Hindus as an avatar of Vishnu, but also respected by Buddhists and Jains. His idol is usual a carved wooden stump with large eyes but here it is black marble – though still with large eyes.

Lord Jagannath, Jagdish Temple, Udaipur

The temple is built on several levels, the steps sometimes providing a good place for people to gather…/p>

On the steps of the Jagdish Temple, Udaipur

…while the top of the final flight gives a view down to the little square where City Palace and Jagdish Temple Roads meet.

Down to City Palace Road from the Jagdish Temple

Udaipur City Palace

The Elephant Zone

On our way to the palace G led a small shopping detour, which I shall return to in the next post.

While G bought tickets we waited outside the Badi Pol, the outer gate, its solid wooden doors equipped with the sort of studs you would not want your best war elephant to head-but.

Between the Badi Pol and the Tripoliya Gate is the ‘Elephant Zone’.

Walking up to the Tripoliya Gate though the elephant zone, Udaipur

To the left was the stable for the lead elephant and in the 19th century a dozen or so of the Maharana’s 100 elephants would be on stand-by here. Later Maharana’s kept succesively fewer elephants until by the 1960s there was just one Royal Elephant, and he retired in 1971. Shriji Arvind Singh Mewar the 76th and current Maharana recently re-established the tradition. His Royal Elephant stands, forever morionless, beside the Tripoliya Gate caparisoned with symbol of the Kingdom of Mewar, a sun with a moustachioed face.

The last Royal Elephant, Udaipur Palace

On the flat ground, inside the gate the 61st Maharana Sangram Singh II (r1733-51) built a low wall for elephant fights. The competing elephants stood either side of the wall and attempted to pull their opponent into it.

The wall for elephant fights - and a portable panther trap

Inside the place is a photograph of the very last elephant fight in 1951.

The last ever elephant fight, Udaipur City Palace

Inside the Palace

Like many Rajasthani palaces, Udaipur Palace is built on a hill, but it is a low urban rise not a commanding height like Amber, Jaisalmer or Jodhpur. The exterior is most easily photographed from across the lake - or from the boat to Jagmandir.

The City Palace and jetty, Udaipur

We entered through a modest door surmounted by the royal emblem.

Mewar arms over the City Palace doorway, Udaipur

Inside a young man was placing fresh flowers in a shrine to Ganesh, who should always be present at beginnings and entrances.

Flowers for Ganesh, City Palace, Udaipur

Building started in 1551 and has continued through 22 generations of rulers, creating a complex of 11 separate but interlinked palaces. Between them are courtyards (chowks), corridors and stairs. External defences are limited by 16th century standards, but the corridors are low and zig-zagged, and the stairs uneven to hamper any attempt to storm the palace.

The palace is huge, the largest in Rajasthan, and what follows are edited highlights not a comprehensive guidebook.

The Rai Angan (Royal Courtyard) was the first section of the palace completed.

Rai Angan, Udaipur City Palace

From here we entered the garden of the Badi Mahal (Great Palace)…

Garden of Badi Mahal, City Palace, Udaipur

…with the audience hall off one end.

Badi Mahal, Udaipur City Palace

George V visited his Indian empire eighteen months after coming to the throne in 1911 and the rulers of all the princely states were invited to meet him at a Great Durbar in Delhi. Chairs were set out for the princes but in a calculated snub Maharana Fateh Singh of Mewar declined to attend, leaving his chair empty. His empty chair now sits in the Badi Mahal in his palace.

The Maharana's empty chair from the 1912 Delhi Durbar

Without noticing how much we had climbed, we discovered we were now high enough to see right across the city.

Looking across Udaipur from the City Palace

Another garden courtyard led us into the dazzling Sheesh Mahal (Palace of Light and Mirrors)…

Sheesh Mahal, Udaipur City Palace

…and then to the Mor Chowk (Peacock Courtyard).

Mor Chowk, Udaipur City Palace

The chowk is 17th century but the glass-work was added two centuries later. There are peacocks on the balcony…

Peacock, Udaipur City Palace

…and on the ground floor.

More peacocks, Mor Chowk, Udaipur City Palace

From here we went through some more domestic room…

Domestic room, Udaipur City Palace

…before ending in the museum where the star exhibit was a case of 35 Lalique crystal bottles. Beautiful but probably useless, it has been passed round the Indian nobility as a wedding present since 1930.

Lalique crystal bottles, Udaipur City Palace

And of interest to Staffordshire residents there is a golden (presumably gold-plated) JCB, a thank you present to the Maharana from Anthony and Carole Bamford, the chairman of JCB and founder of Daylesford Organics respectively.

Golden JCB, gift of Lord and Lady Bamford, Udaipur City Palace

Jagmandir

Perhaps we spent too long in the palace, but once we were past the golden JCB, G rushed us down to the jetty. As soon as we were aboard the boat set off for Jagmandir.

Pulling away, we passed a ghat where a girl in jeans and tee-shirt was taking a selfie, while an old woman was doing her washing in the heavily polluted water. India is in a state of flux.

Ghat with selfie and washing, Lake Pichola

Lake Pichola has two natural islands, one occupied by a hotel, the Taj Lake Palace, the other by Jagmandir Palace. Though built a hundred years apart they are very similar, and after carefully studying pictures of both I am not entirely sure which is in my photograph!

Jagmandir - or Taj Lake Palace - anybody's guess,

Jagmandir was built during the first half of the 17th century by three successive Maharanas, acquiring its name from the last of these, Jagat Singh I.

There is not a lot to see, but there is a pleasant garden to stroll round,….

Garden, Jagmandir, Lake Pichola

…frangipani trees…

Frangipani, Jagmandir, Lake Pichola

…and a view back to the Royal Palace from a terrace lined with marble elephants, though the ravages of time mean that many tusks and trunks are polystyrene.

Udaipur Royal Palace from the Jagmandir elephant terrace

Being an island, Jagmandir has been used as a place of safety. In the mid-1620s the future Mughal Emperor Shah Jahan fell out with his father and sought asylum in Mewar, living for a time on Jagmandir with his wife Mumtaz Mahal and two of their sons. The people of Udaipur like to believe it was the architecture of Jagmandir that inspired Shah Jahan when he built the Taj Mahal, the great memorial to Mumtaz Mahal who died in childbirth in 1631.

The resulting friendship with the Mughal Empire brought peace and prosperity. This ended when marauding Marathis started to dismember the kingdom and in 1817 the Maharana turned to the British for help. They defeated the Marathis and restored Mewar’s traditional lands in return for Mewar accepting the ‘paramountcy’ of the first the British East India Company and later the British Empire. Under the raj the Princely States enjoyed much autonomy and were little involved in the 1857 Indian Rebellion (or ‘Mutiny’). During this time Maharana Swarup Singh used Jagmandir to shelter European families fleeing from Neemuch, over the border in Madhya Pradesh.

Leaving the island, I was relieved to note the resident crocodile had been safely tied up – despite being stone.

Tethered crocodile, Jagmandir, Lake Pichola

Lunch at the Gateway, a Lazy Afternoon and a Disappointing Evening

G met us at the jetty and we walked back round the palace. We declined his offer to show us the jewellery shops, but accepted his recommendation of the Gateway Restaurant. He left us there once we had assured him we could find our own way back to the hotel. We are not helpless and prefer not to be too obviously patronised.

The restaurant, on a terrace overlooking Royal Palace Road 50m outside Badi Pole had a wide-ranging menu, though snacks were limited. Our mixed veg pakoras with a mint dip and onion salad, were tasty and nicely presented.

Pakoras and an onion salad, Gateway Restaurant, Udaipur

We strolled back to the Jagdish Temple and then took the wrong road. We began to suspect we had erred after a couple of hundred metres and when we reached an unfamiliar clocktower, we knew we were wrong. Perhaps G had been wise to question our assurances, perhaps we did need patronising. The Ghantaghar Clocktower, for such it was, was built in 1876 and is the oldest clocktower in Udaipur. It marks the centre of the gold and silversmiths district – a little downmarket from the jewellery shops G had in mind.

Ghantaghar Clocktower, Udaipur

Everybody makes mistakes, and we are indeed not helpless so we made our way back to the temple and took the right road. Approaching the footbridge we were engaged in conversation by a young man who claimed to have visited Birmingham and said his family would be taking part in an art exhibition at the NEC later in the year. This may (just possibly) have been true, but he was extremely keen for us to visit his shop - and annoyingly persistent.

Once we had shaken him off, we dropped some money in the tin of a disabled beggar on one side of the bridge and stopped to watch a man making stone elephants, cobras and other ornaments on the other side. After a brief haggle we became owners of a small but pleasing stone elephant.

A manufacturer of small stone elephants, Udaipur

Later we came back over the bridge, skilfully avoided the annoying artist and found our way to the Café Edelweiss near the temple.I am unsure how really German this ‘Real German Bakery’ is but they provided us with good coffee, a chocolate ball and a brownie.

Dusk found us on the lakeside terrace of the hotel next to ours. A large (Indian distilled) Blue Riband gin made an appropriate sundowner.

Sundowners beside Lake Pichola, Udaipur

In the evening we headed for the Savage Garden, a restaurant under the same ownership as the Café Edelweiss. Signs on walls pointed us down ever darker and narrower alleys, but we persevered bravely until we eventually found the restaurant. It occupied what seemed to be the stairwell of a larger building with two or three tables on each landing. There was no one else enjoying the food or bare concrete décor - we went right to the top to find out. Lynne had already decided she did not want to eat but I was hungry. The menu had too many ‘international’ choices for my liking but I went for murgh makhani (butter chicken), a usually reliable stand-by. Murgh Makhani is never the hottest of curries, but this had been completely de-spiced in deference to the perceived taste of the crowds of European who had somehow failed to arrive. It resembled the under-seasoned Bolognese sauce of a fourth-rate Italian restaurant in Stoke-on-Trent*. Lynne chided me for my lack of research, but I had imagined that being under the same ownership as Edelweiss would be some sort of guarantee – I was wrong.

*to be fair, there are some Italian restaurants in Stoke that are far better than fourth rate.

Saturday 3 February 2018

Ranakpur: Rajasthan Part 9

India
Rajasthan
This post covers day 11 of a 16-day journey around Rajasthan.

The size of Germany, Rajasthan is the largest of India’s 29 states. With the Thar Desert covering the north and west it is one of India’s less densely populated states, though with 200 people per km² (the same as Italy) it is hardly empty.

We drive from Narlai to Ranakpur and then to Udaipur, the southernmost point of our journey

In the 11th and 12th centuries the rise of the Rajputs created some 20 or so petty kingdoms ruled by Maharajas - the ‘Rajput Princes’. These kingdoms, at first independent, later vassal states of the Mughal or British Empires survived until 1947, when the Maharajahs led their ‘Princely States’ into the new Union of India, creating Rajasthan (the ‘Land of Princes’). The rulers became constitutional monarchs until 1971 when the Indian government ended their official privileges and abolished their titles. ‘Maharaja’ is now a courtesy title, but most remain leading members of their communities and some are still immensely rich. Several, like their British counterparts, have supplemented their income by turning forts and palaces into tourist attractions and hotels.

-o0o0o-

Rajasthan's Finest Jain Temple

Narlai to Ranakpur

Breakfast at Narlai was a little better than the dinner; my sambar and idlis were good, but Lynne’s French toast was sweet to the point of inedibility - saffron rice and scrambled egg proved a better choice.

Narlai is 50km from Ranakpur, where the huge Jain temple does not open to non-Jains until midday, so a leisurely start was in order. By 10.29 we were sitting outside the fort waiting for Umed who arrived at 10.30, precisely on time as always.

10.29 outside Rawla Narlai
The journey continued through flat, dry land, studded with rocks, though none as impressive Narlai’s.

Another rock south of Narlai
There is always something to see on a drive through India…

Goats and goatherd on the road to Ranakpur
…and as the countryside became greener and hillier we encountered an apparent sit-down strike by the local monkeys, though their solidarity evaporated as we approached.

Grey langurs on the road to Ranakpur
Ranakpur Jain Temple

Around midday we reached the Aravalli Hills, which curl for 700km around the southern limit of the Thar desert. The Ranakpur site, nestling in the edge of hills, contains five Jain temples but ‘The’ Ranakpur Jain temple, the biggest and finest and the one everyone comes to see is the Chaturmukha Dharanavihara.

Construction began in 1437 after Dharna Shah, a wealthy and devout local Jain, was inspired by a dream. He gained sponsorship from Rana Khumba, ruler of Mewar (the Kingdom of Mewar had its capital at Udaipur and is very easily confused with the adjacent Kingdom of Marwar, ruled from Jodhpur) and engaged an architect named in an inscription as Deepaka.

Just a part of the RanakpurJain temple
 The white marble building took over fifty years to complete. It has suffered ups and downs over the last 500 years but for the past century it has been managed by the Anandji Kalyanji Pedhi trust, a charity that safeguards over 1,000 Jain Temples. They funded its restoration and continue to maintain the buildings in excellent condition.

Inspecting the impressively comprehensive ‘Do Not’ notice filled in the time while Umed queued for our tickets and ‘compulsory audio guide’ (4). Mostly the rules are reasonable; 11 could cause upset but is (I suspect, though without evidence) routinely ignored as is 8b (I have evidence for this – my trousers did not fall down). 8d contradicts 5.

Indians love a list of regulations (and then ignore those they don't like)
Jains make up 0.36% of the Indian population, a small proportion but that still means almost 5 million people. Rajasthan is home to 650,000 Jains - 1% of the population and the second highest proportion after Maharashtra. Jains are generally better educated and wealthier than their fellow citizens, the literacy rate among Jains being 95% compared to the national average of 74%.

We made our way to the entrance…

Entrance, Ranakour Jain temple
…where Akichaka, a bearded man with five bodies representing the five elements - fire, water, heaven, earth and air, is carved on the ceiling.

Akichaka, Ranakpur Jain temple
The interior is filled with pillars and spaces.

Inside the Ranakpur Jain temple
Beneath the central dome is a platform surrounded by intricate carvings. As I discovered, any non-Jain venturing onto the platform will be told, politely but firmly, by the orange-scarfed guardians that this sacred area is not for them.

Platform beneath the central dome, Ranakpur Jain temple
Around the perimeter are a wealth of carvings and statues, some I could not interpret….

Somebody on an elephant, Ranakpur Jain temple
…while others are of Tirthankaras. The object of a well-lived Jain life is to cross over the endless stream of lives and rebirths and so achieve moksha (like the Buddhist nirvana). The Tirthankaras are guides in this endeavour which is achieved by practising non-violence, honesty, chastity and non-attachment to material possessions. Time moves like the wheel of a cart, so any point on the circumference has an ascending half-cycle and a descending half-cycle. 24 Tirthankaras are born in each half cycle; Adinatha, the first of the current half-cycle was born 1 million years ago, the last, Mahavira lived in the 5th or 6th century BC. The Tirthankaras are deeply respected but not worshipped, though the temple is dedicated to Adinatha. I would not like to guess exactly who is depicted in the images below.

Tithankaras, Ranakpur Jain temple
If the central dome is off-limits there are plenty more you can point your camera at…

Dome, Ranakpur Jain temple
….while other carvings depict Parshvanatha, the 23rd Tirthankara surrounded by the heads of 1008 snakes - and innumerable tails….

Parshvanatha, the 23rd Tirthankara surrounded by the heads of 1008 snakes - and innumerable tails, Ranakpur Jain temple
….Jambudvipa, the realm of terrestrial life,…

Jambudvipa, the realm of terrestrial life, Ranakpur Jain temple
… and the 863 Jain temples on Mount Shatrunjaya in Gujarat [We climbed the 3750 step to the top of Shatrunjaya Hill in March 2019. Click here for that post.]

The 863 Jain temples on Mount Shatrunjaya, Ranakpur Jain temple
While wandering we were approached by a young man in an orange scarf who offered to pray for us and our families. Given the events at home alluded to in the Jaisalmer post, Lynne readily agreed. I suspect prayers can only be of comfort to those present, but no doubt Jain prayers are as good as anyone else’s, and can do no harm, so I went along with it. We retreated to an empty corner, where, with quiet solemnity, he said some words in English and (I assume) Hindi and gave us a blessing. I gave him some rupees, which he seemed to expect after reminding us he was a volunteer and received no payments for attendance at the temple.

The Road to Udaipur

We spent over an hour at the temple before returning to the road and driving deeper into the Aravalli Hills.


Driving through the Aravalli Hills
Restaurants seem to be springing up alongside the road as visitor numbers grow at Ranakpur. We stopped for lunch at a restaurant in a wide valley with small farms studding the hillsides. We sat on a breezy terrace sharing a curry of paneer and peas as tractors dragging loads of heavy stones trundled past, each one playing loud, cheery music.

Back in the car we passed through the small town of Sayra.



Sayra - small town Rajasthan
A little further on Umed spotted a pair of oxen plodding round in circles and brought the car to a stop.


Oxen plod round in circles, near Sayra
The couple in charge seemed used to receiving curious visitors and greeted us cheerfully. The oxen turned a wheel over which a chain of buckets delivered water from a well. The irrigation system might be antiquated, but the rich green of the surrounding fields proved it was effective.


Wheek and buckets, irrigation system near Sayra
The well was deep, the chain of buckets long and the steps descending inside the well looked scary.


Looking down into the well, near Sayra
The route so far had been slow but the last 50km into Udaipur should have been on Highway 27, a large modern dual carriageway. Before reaching the junction we encountered a ‘road closed’ sign and a diversion. Umed swung off onto a tiny local road, ‘the real India,’ as he said ruefully.

It was a long journey through small villages…


Small Village on the way to Udaipur
….with small, unsophisticated temples.

Village temple on the way to Udaipur
We reached Udaipur when the rush hour was at its peak.

Arriving in Udaipur

Udaipur may be a city of half a million people, but the centre is a warren of narrow lanes like those you might expect in a village – only much more extensive. Umed was navigating by means of his phone, but it could not cope with the small streets and frequent irregular junctions. Udaipur is known as the City of Lakes, and with good reason; a missed turning can lead you to a narrow one-way bridge and once across the lake a return bridge may be some way distant – and not necessarily over the same stretch of water. Umed made a couple of circuits of the centre (we noticed) and asked a few locals whose well-meaning assistance was not always helpful. He was becoming increasingly tense, his professional pride hurt by his inability to work out the labyrinthine streets. Eventually we turned off a lane into the sort of alley no one would expect to lead to a four-star hotel, and after a hundred metres, there it was.


Perhaps you would expect to find a posh hotel down here - I don't think I would

We checked in and said goodbye to Umed for the day and advised him to rest.

Our room had a balcony over Lake Pichola…

Our balconey overlooking Lake Pichola
…with views across the lake to the Maharaja’s Palace.

The view from our balconey across Lake Pichola
On being asked at check-in if we wished to book a table on the roof terrace, we had hesitated, unsure of other local dining options. ‘It’s the last table,’ we were warned. That settled it, who would not choose to dine beneath stars.

A blurry night-time photograph pf the hotel's roof tertace

We discovered that the whole restaurant was on the roof, the ‘roof terrace’ being just three elevated tables, but they did have the most splendid view over the dark lake and the floodlit buildings beyond. The Dunghaar Maas (smoked lamb) and Aloo Gobi Adraki (potato, cauliflower and ginger) were very good and left just enough space for a Gulab Jamun, my favourite Indian sweet.