Tuesday, 6 February 2018

Chittorgarh and Bundi: Rajasthan Part 12

India

Rajasthan

This post covers day 14 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.

This penultimate post takes us across southern Rajasthan from Udaipur to Bundi

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.

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An Old Stronghold and a City by a Lake

After a breakfast interesting enough to deserve its own brief post, we checked out and met Umed in the lobby. He confessed to having a minor coming together with a motorcycle after he left us on Saturday and had chosen not to brave the narrow lanes again. After tuk-tuking out to where he had left the car we looked sympathetically at the minor scratches.

Tuk-tuking out of the narrow maze of streets around Lake Pichola, Udaipur

Udaipur to Chittorgarh

We set off for Bundi, 250km and a five-hour drive from Udaipur with an intended long stop at Chittorgarh (spelt Chittaugarh on the map above) around the half way mark.

On a cloudy and cool morning Umed drove us out of Udaipur rounding the Chetak circle on the way. Chetak is the name traditionally given to the horse ridden by Maharana Pratap at the Battle of Haldighati in 1576, though without any historical evidence. The legend of the horse bravely carrying the Maharana to safety before dying of his wounds dates from a couple of centuries after the battle.

Chetak Circle, Udaipur

We also saw a toddler standing in the well of a motor scooter, a sight we have seen so often in South Asia we sometimes forget to find it alarming.

Girl on a motor scooter

An hour or so later we passed a wedding party…

Wedding party near Chittorgarh

…and around midday reached Chittorgarh.

Chittorgarh

The modern city of Chittorgarh – sometimes just ‘Chittor’ – has 120,000 inhabitants and makes its living from concrete, marble and lead-zinc smelting. Itself of little touristic interest it sits at the foot of an 180m high hill with an extensive flattish top. The earliest inhabitants quickly grasped the hill’s defensive possibilities and the first fort (garh) was built by Chitrangada Mori – sources agree on this but no-one says who he was and when he lived so perhaps he was legendary. The fort grew into the biggest in India, or possibly Asia, and is now a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

The hill is steep, the ascent involving several hairpins. At the top, inside two or three layers of outer walls, we met our local guide, a thin wiry man with an encyclopaedic knowledge of Chittogarh and a compulsion to share it, all of it if possible.

Muiltiple lines of defence on Chittogarh Hill

After looking down on the city below….

Chittor City from Chittorgarh

Kirti Stambh

…. we drove across the fort to Kirti Stambh. Just because we are in a fort, not everything has to be military. The 22m Kirti Stambh was built by a Jain merchant in the late 12th or early 13th century (though the top pavilion was added a century or two later). Jains are opposed to all violence and tower is dedicated to Lord Adinath, the first Jain Thirthankar.

Kirti Stambh, Chittorgarh

Next-door is a Jain temple….

Jain Temple beside Kirti Stambh, Chittorgarh

…. And both are adorned with sumptuous carvings, which would sparkle in the sunshine – if there was any.

Carvings on the Jain temple by Kirti Stambh, Chittorgarh

Suraj Pol, Chittorgarh

A couple of hundred metres along the curtain wall is the Suraj Pol, the ‘front gate’ of the fort (we entered through the back door overlooking the city).

Suraj Pol, Chittorgarh

The Suraj Pol is undergoing restoration. It is not unusual to see women manual labourers in India, nor is it unusual to see such flimsy footwear – or even bare feet – so near to a mattock. India’s record on industrial accidents is not impressive.

Restoration works, Suraj Pol, Chirrorgarh

Outside, the hill is steep but there is a graded path for horses and elephant, with the usual right-angle bends to stop a war elephant charging the door.

Outside the Suraj pole on an overcast and misty day, Chittorgarh

The view down to the plain, a long way below, shows the fort’s strength, but it also its weakness. The fort had ample water, the rocky soil retains it well and it is claimed they had enough for a garrison of 50,000 for four years, but all the food must come from the flat fertile land below.

Looking down from Chittorgarh to the plain below

The Story of Padmini

The fort was allegedly taken by Bappa Rawal, founder of the Kingdom of Mewar (later based in Udaipur) in the 8th century but that may be a story to account for the Mewar Dynasty (the Sisodias) holding the fort in the first place. They were to lose it (and regain it) three times in the next 800 years, each time with appalling consequences.

The Sisodias first lost Chittorgarh in 1303 to Alauddin Khalji, the Sultan of Delhi. Rawal Ratan Singh put up a stout defence and, allegedly, Alauddin Khalji offered to withdraw if he was allowed a single glimpse of Padmini, the Rawal’s queen and a woman of legendary beauty.

Padmini's Palace with its island annexe, Chittorgarh

Ratan Singh had made a long and dangerous journey to her home in Sri Lanka to win her hand after hearing of her beauty from a talking parrot, so the request required much thought. Eventually he allowed the Sultan to enter Padmini’s palace alone, climb the mirror tower and see not her, but her reflection in the surface of the lake.

This probably is not the mirror tower but the next one along. It is, though, a prettier tower and a better picture.
And as it never really happened the designation of one tower as the 'mirror tower' for the benefit of tourists seems pointless

Maybe the Sultan was satisfied by this, maybe not or perhaps it had all been a subterfuge because as he left his entourage grabbed Ratan Singh and hustled him away. The Palace now has a beautifully kept rose garden, perhaps this was where the kidnapping took place.

The rose garden by Padmini's palace, Chittorgarh

Padmini dressed the palace guard as women and sent them in curtained palanquins as a gift to the Sultan. Beware of Greeks and Sisodias bearing gifts as the saying almost goes. Bursting from the palanquins, the soldiers rescued Ratan Singh but lost 7,000 of their own men (surely a 'magic' number and certainly far more than could be transported in all the palanquins in Rajasthan) in the process.

Ratan Singh was free, but at such a cost he knew his cause was lost, Padmini led 13,000 women in committing johar, throwing themselves on to a huge funeral pyre, while their menfolk rode out to certain death at the hand of the Sultan’s soldiers.

Not a happy tale, and not the first mass suicide of this trip (see Jaisalmer). Strong historical evidence exists for Sultan Alauddin Khalji taking Chittorgarh in 1303, and for a mass suicide. The rest is fable; poets, story-tellers and Bollywood producers have embellished the story at their whim, but however the yarn is spun the objectification of women remains uncomfortably at its heart.

Vijay Stambh and the Johar Place, Chittorgarh

Despite the death and destruction, the Delhi Sultans were not that interested in Chittorgarh and 20 years later it was back in Sisodia hands. Two centuries of stability and prosperity followed, though not without continued military activity. We drove north to the Vijay Stambh, erected 1458-68 by Rana Kumbha to commemorate his victory over the Sultan of Malwa. It looks very like the Kirti Stambh, though it is 250 years younger and 15m taller. This is a typical Jain tower but built by a Hindu – pacifist Jains would never commemorate a military victory.

Vijay Stambh, Chittorgarh

Stability came to a jolting end in 1535 when the Sultan of Gujarat besieged Chittorgarh. Again, the result was johar, the women and children leaping onto a funeral pyre while their men rode out to die in battle. The Johar Place stands directly in front of the Vijay Stambh. Now a patch of green surrounded by ruins, some say the spirits of the dead still inhabit this terrible place (though I remain a sceptic on such issues).

The Johar Place, Chittorgarh.
Two 16th century johars took place here but Padmini's was at the Ratan Singh Palace further north

The Sisodias regained the fort, but Rawal Udai Singh was aware of its vulnerability and sought out a new capital, founding Udaipur in 1559. He was therefore not present in 1567 when the Mughal Emperor Akhbar embarked on Chittorgarh’s longest and bloodiest siege which ended in yet another act of johar. The Mughals handed Chittorgarh back in 1616 on condition it would not be refortified, but by then the era of castles was over.

Samadhisvar Temple and Gaumukh Reservoir, Chittorgarh

Several ruined buildings and a couple of temples surround Johar Place. Finest is the 11th century Samadhisvar Temple. It resembles a Jain Temple but….

Samadhisvar Temple, Chittorgarh

…Nandi at the entrance proves it to be a Shiva temple.

Nandi at the entrance to the Samadhisvar Temple, Chittorgarh

Inside Shiva is shown in the Tripurti form which holds that Brahma and Vishnu are forms of Shiva and not different deities.

Shiva in the Tripurti form, Samadhisvar Temple, Chittorgarh

Behind the temple is the Gaumukh (lit: Cowmouth) Reservoir. Perched on the edge of the hill, it is fed by a spring, the outfall in the cliff carved as a cow's mouth. It was an important source of water during numerous sieges.

Gaumukh Reservoir, Chittorgarh

Chittorgarh has more to see, but it was time to move on. We said goodbye to our guide, left the fort and stopped at a restaurant half way down for a paneer curry and a bottle of Kingfisher.

On to Bundi

Another three hours driving took us to Bundi. On the way we passed overcrowded buses…

Overcrowded bus between Chittorgarh and Bundi

…and overloaded lorries. Marble being a local industry, we passed many lorries carrying unrestrained stone slabs. They are stable under normal conditions, but in an accident the lorry could tip over or come to a dramatic stop launching several tonnes of masonry at passers-by, or the driver himself.

Transporting marble, seen between Chittorgarh and Bundi

We reached Bundi just after five. It looked a nice little town built round a lake with a palace climbing the hillside opposite.

Bundi Palace across the lake.
This photo and the one below were taken the following morning when the weather and light were better.

We checked into a charming old Haveli down a narrow lane and met our new local guide.

Bundi Haveli

Bundi

Our itinerary said we should see the palace, but it was already closing for the evening. Our guide apologised, as though he was personally responsible for dusk, but we have seen many palaces recently and Bundi was never the grandest of Rajasthan’s many princely states. He offered to show is a stepwell and conduct a walking tour instead if we had the energy. It was our only chance to see Bundi, so we found the energy.

Bundi had seemed small as we arrived, but the old centre clusters below the royal palace on the hillside and the city has grown away from the hill rather than round it as we first thought. Bundi has a population of 100,000 and has or had 50 stepwells. All are abandoned, most have fallen into disrepair and many are used as rubbish dumps.

Dabhai Kund, Bundi

Dabhai Kund, one of the largest, was a ten-minute drive away. Built in 1658 it has undergone some restoration, though more is needed. I do not expect the authorities to replace the water, but they could remove the rubbish.

Dabhai Kund stepwell, Bundi

Step wells are major excavations. It is a moot point whether the ability of everybody to fetch water at once rather than queue for a bucket on a rope is worth the digging, but they are remarkable structures. Close up, the repeated lines of steps have a pleasing Escher-like effect.

Dabhai Kund stepwell, Bundi

Next to the well is the royal cremation site.

Royal cremation site, Bundi

And why, you wonder are there two domes, each above its own memorial? One is for the ruler, the other for his wife, because once her husband dies the best thing a woman can do is to set herself on fire. The voluntary (?) burning of women has occupied too much of this post. Under pressure from Hindu reformers and Christian missionaries, sati was banned state by state from 1829. There seems to have been little resistance to this particular colonial interference in local customs – perhaps they had all had enough.

Royal cremation site, Bundi

Fine Samosas, Bundi

Nearby we passed a stall selling ‘the best samosas in the world’ or so our guide said. They make 5,000 a day, he told us and for a few rupees we had one each (as did the guide and Umed) to put his statement to the test. We have eaten many samosas, perhaps not enough to judge the world’s best, but these were outstanding. They were fresh, with fine pastry and the subtlest spicing of the vegetable filling.

The best samosas in the world, Bundi

Sukh Mahal, Bundi

Our walking tour continued by car (!) to the Jait Sagar Tank, an artificial lake on the edge of town. The Sukh Mahal was built beside the lake around 1800 as a pleasure palace/hunting lodge for the Maharao of Bundi. Rudyard Kipling stayed here at some time in the 1880s and either wrote Kim here or was inspired to write it here, depending on source. As Kipling left India in 1889 and Kim was published in 1901 this may be fanciful. It is open to the public, but not at this time of day.

The Sukh Mahal, Bundi

Bundi Market

Back in the town we let Umed go and continued on foot.

Back to Bundi market

We walked through the flower market….

Flower market, Bundi

...and the vegetable market where some stalls were well stocked…

Larger stalls, Bundi Market

….while and others sold whatever meagre produce the stallholders could get or grow.

Small vegetable stall, Bundi market

We stopped to taste some carrot-based sweets.

Sweet stall, Bundi

Beyond the gate into the old city...

Through the gate, Bundi

…were more stalls, clothes shops, weavers, welders and knife sharpeners. In small offices and banks high enough off the ground to avoid the monsoon floods, clients sat on soft floor coverings and leant against pillows while business was conducted on desks only inches high.

Business, Bundi-style

Krishna Tea Stall, Bundi

Our guide suggested a stop at Krishna's tea stall.

Mr Krishna boils up his tea, Bundi

This place is something of an institution and we clambered up to the only two seats while Mr Krishna crushed the spices for our masala tea with a stone and set about boiling up the sweet milky tea.

His tea, peppery with a hint of cardamom, was quite exceptional and if ‘the best tea shop in the world’ is as extravagant and unprovable a claim as the best samosa, the combination of quality and ambience was truly memorable. His vast visitors’ book has comments from customers from across the globe, and we added our two-pennyworth.

Mr Krishna, Bundi

While drinking our tea we were entertained by a passing wedding party.

Wedding party, Bundi

We may have missed the palace, but the evening had been far better than yet another palace visit. Back at the hotel we dined on vegetable biryani and lamb mughli.

07/02/18

Bundi Morning Photographs

The morning weather was much brighter, and before leaving we had a short stroll to see what we could see. Our sightings included a small hairy piglet…

Small, hairy piglet, Bundi

…another red wattled lapwing….

Red wattled Lapwing, Bundi

….and Lynne, the lake and the palace.

Lynne, the lake and the palace, Bundi

Umed arrived and we set off for Ranthambore.

Rajasthan, Land of Princes

Part 1: Jaipur and Amber (or Amer)
Part 2: Mandawa, Town of Havelis
Part 3: Bikaner, Sweets and Palaces
Part 4: Across the Thar Desert from Bikaner to Jaisalmer
Part 5: Jaisalmer in the Heart of the Thar Desert
Part 6: Jodhpur, Not Just a Pair of Trousers
Part 7: Rohet and the Bishnoi People
Part 8: Narlai, Small Town, Large Rock
Part 9: Ranakpur Jain Temple and on to Udaipur
Part 10: Udaipur (1), Royal City
Part 11: Udaipur (2) Bagore Ki Haveli and Dal Baati Churma
Interlude: Breakfast Thoughts in Udaipur
Part 12: Chittorgarh and on to Bundi
Part 13: Tiger Hunting in Ranthambhore

THE END

Breakfast Thoughts in Udaipur: Rajasthan Interlude

The Breakfast Habits of the Chinese and Others

India

Rajasthan

This post is an ‘interlude’ in our journey round Rajasthan. The incident described took place in Udaipur at the most southerly point of our route, but it could have happened anywhere in India – and we saw something very similar in Sri Lanka in 2015.

We were in Udaipur in central southern Rajasthan

As we plonked down our fruit juice and tea cups to 'claim' our morning breakfast table we noticed a lonely bottle of soy sauce standing sentinel on an adjacent table. By the time we had returned from the buffet it had been joined by a stack of pot noodles, and a waiter was approaching bearing a large jug of boiling water. A party of a dozen or so Chinese tourists had occupied a long table behind us and the Chinese tour manager sat behind the soy sauce and noodles doling them out on request. It is easy to mock, and indeed we had a quiet smirk, while acknowledging that British tourists can sometimes be notoriously inflexible, and not only when faced with ‘spicy food’ - I know a restaurant in Portugal that advertises 'all day English breakfast' and is rarely short of custom.

On the other hand, many travellers of all nationalities make it a point of honour to eat local, though maybe I am a little hardcore in eating local lunch, dinner and, particularly, breakfast. In France I eat croissants (doesn’t everybody?), in China I enjoy noodles with vegetables and soy sauce and today from the Indian section of the buffet I had selected sambar with idlis and coconut chutney - perhaps a touch south Indian for Rajasthan, but let's not be too picky.

Sambar, idlis and coconut chutney

But most European visitors eat a largely European breakfast. This generally includes Lynne, and once in a while me - I occasionally yearn for a comforting fried egg. We have stayed in several non-tourist orientated hotels in China where only a Chinese breakfast was available, but generally, throughout Asia you can choose between a local breakfast or something more or less western*. And so it was today, there was a choice between Indian and western, the western option being overwhelmingly taken by western customers - indeed I might have been the only European (or North American or antipodean) to take the Indian option.

I thought this post needed more pictures, but apparently I rarely photograph my breakfast. This one is from Marari Beach, Kerala

The fruit would suit everyone, Indian, European or Chinese, but only the Indians seem to have spotted that a squeeze of lemon turns papaya from ho-hum to magnificent....but I followed this with....

But what about the Chinese? There was no option for them. At the time of day when many people feel the need for something familiar, they were offered nothing, so they brought their own pot noodles. It looked odd, but I understand and, to a certain extent I sympathize (but I still think they should try the sambar and idlis).

....largely the same breakfast as at Udaipur, though with a dosa instead of the idlis

*In China (and elsewhere) this usually means sweet, flaccid bread, a scrape of something yellow which certainly won’t be butter, and jam whose only discernible flavour is sweet. It is always worth avoiding, as is the glass of black, unsweetened Nescafé which well-meaning Chinese waiters occasionally try to force on tea drinking Brits.

Monday, 5 February 2018

Udaipur (2) Bagore Ki Haveli: Rajasthan Part 11

India

Rajasthan

This post covers day 13 of a 16-day journey around Rajasthan.

We spent this day in Udaipur, the southernmost point on or tour of Rajasthan

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Dal Baati Churma and a 'Cultural Show'

Lynne had not been feeling well yesterday afternoon and was up early after a disturbed night. She had a soak in the bath, breakfasted early on comfort food - scrambled egg, dry toast, papaya and cake - and we sat on our balcony to survey Lake Pichola. The morning was overcast and the temperature well down on yesterday morning.

Lake Oichola and the royal Palace, from our hotel balcony, Udaipur

Our programme was blank except for an evening cultural show at the Bagore Ki Haveli, but we had told Umed he could take the day off, so we had to buy our own tickets.

When Lynne was feeling stronger, we made our way to the haveli on the other side of the lake, near the footbridge we had crossed half a dozen times already.

Bagore Ki Haveli

Bagor Ki Haveli entrance, Udaipur

We passed by yesterday on our way to the Jagdish Temple, pausing only briefly to look at the courtyard as we walked up from the ghat.

The Gangaur Ghat and Lake Pichola from the Bagore Ki Haveli courtyard

It was well worth a second glance.

Outer courtyard, Bagore Ki Haveli, Udaipur

The Thikana of Bagore, the district round the small town of Bagor (sic) 130km north-east of Udiapur, was ruled by hereditary thikanedars, members of a junior branch of the royal family in Udaipur. The haveli was built by Armchand Badava, chief minister to one of the 18th century thikanedars.

Armchand Badava might only have been a functionary of a second-grade ruler, but he undoubtedly had money, and the house he built with courtyards, terraces, balconies and 138 rooms is nearer a palace than a standard haveli.

Inner courtyard, Bagore Ki Haveli, Udaipur

From its 17th century highpoint, decline was inevitable and in 1986, after lying derelict for 50 years, the haveli was passed to the Western Zone Cultural Centre. WZCC have restored the building which now houses cultural shows and two museums. When buying our tickets for the evening show we decided to look round the museums as well.

Bagore Ki Haveli Puppet Museum

Rajasthan has a long tradition of puppetry and it would doubtless feature in tonight’s show. One room on the first floor was given over to a display of puppets. In one large tableau the thikanedar sits on high in the widow, the light forcing all who speak to him to lower their eyes. First minister, Armchand Bavada, sprawls in his chair on his boss’s right, while the lesser members of the court sit in front, and all watch the dancing girl.

The Thekanedars court, Bagore Ki Haveli, Udaipur

There was also a fine camel. The man who had been sweeping the floor came to talk to us, and then show us what was for sale. Inevitably we ended up with a (smaller) camel - our grandson’s lego army needed a camel corps.

Camel, Bagore Ki Haveli
If he is eloping with the young lady on the pilion seat, he may find she has fallen off long before they reach their destination.

Museum of Rajasthani Life, Bagore Ki Haveli

The rest of the house showed aspects of life here a couple of centuries ago. There were rooms for entertaining…

Room for entertaining, Bagore Ki Haveli, Udaipur

…and rooms for ablutions. The bathroom arrangements in the Queen’s Suite changed with the seasons. At this time of year, pithi (a paste of turmeric, gram flour and fresh cream) would be applied to a lady’s skin and gently washed away by a mixture of sandalwood, milk and warm water poured over her by maids while she sat on the wooden seat.

Room ablutions, Bagore Ki Haveli, Udaipur

We passed through ornate doorways…

Ornate doorway, Bagore Ki Haveli, Udaipur

…to see a collection of musical instruments…

Musical instruments, Bagore Ki Haveli, Udaipur

…and a gathering of turbans. Who knew there were so many different ways to tie a turban? As we have discovered on this trip (the mahout in Amber, the hotel guide in Narlai), many apparent turbans today are actually hats.

Turbans, Bagore Ki Haveli, Udaipur

They also have what they claim to be the world’s largest turban, though no one could ever have worn it.

The world's biggest turban (allegedly) Bagore Ki Haveli, Udaipur

We finished at a tableau of a wedding procession, which was appropriate because….

Wedding procession, Bagore Ki Haveli, Udaipur

Wedding Procession, Udaipur

…a little later on we encountered the real thing though, inevitably, a little less grand than in Bagore Ki Haveli.

Men carrying umbrellas were followed by a sound system (calling itself a ‘band’) loud enough to make the whole street take notice…

The start of a wedding procession, Udaipur

…followed by two drummers and a rather self-conscious looking groom on horseback with a younger sibling sitting in front of him.

Drummers and a self-conscious groom, wedding procession, Udaipur

At the end came the female relatives in their best saris.

Female relatives, wedding procession, Udaipur

Serious Textile Buyers, Udaipur

On our way to the royal palace yesterday, G our guide for the day had diverted down a narrow alley to a small courtyard. Walking through the shop opposite brought us to a bigger courtyard and a bigger shop. Despite its external appearance the shop was an Aladdin’s cave of textiles. It was vast, more and more rooms reached deeper and deeper in the sprawling building (or were they using TARDIS technology?). The staff were very attentive, but not wishing to carry our purchases around all day we bought nothing, but promised to return.

This does not look like Udaipur's premier textiles shop, but it is

And today we did return, hoping to find some gifts to take home. As we wandered from room to room looking at this and that, yesterday’s attentive salesmen seemed strangely absent. Eventually we encountered four people around whom the whole staff buzzed like bees round a honey pot. Like many Americans they spoke more loudly than necessary so we soon discovered the bargaining for a particular blanket-sized piece of cloth had reached 29,000 rupees (£320). With five or six other items already selected their expenditure was already well into the thousands, so unsurprisingly our desire to spend £20 on a few cushion covers was causing few ripples.

We got our cushion covers in the end. What shocked me was that anyone should spend that much on a piece of cloth. If I was going to blow £320 on pointless luxury, I would buy a bottle of Burgundy (you can get a half-decent Burgundy for that price) and it would give me more pleasure than all the textiles in India. We are not all the same – it would be a dull old world if we were.

Dal Baati Churma

Being fans of the south Indian Thali (I wrote about it here) we were interested to see many small restaurants advertising ‘Rajasthan Thali’. We picked such a place opposite where we lunched yesterday and sat on a bench in a small scruffy upstairs room overlooking City Palace Road.

Still protecting her stomach, Lynne was happy with her bowl of chips, but my thali was not what I expected. Perhaps there had been a miscommunication, perhaps there is no ‘Rajasthan thali’ and this is what you get. As I discovered later, this is dal baati churma, Rajasthani comfort food, very typical and easily overlooked by tourists.

Dal baati churma, Udaipur

Dal, lentils or pulses in a spicy broth, is familiar and is often eaten at breakfast. Baati are unleavened spherical wheat rolls. They are hard, dense and very dry - the lack of water in the dough is said to have made them popular in this desert region. Churma is also made from wheat, coarsely ground then mixed with ghee and jaggery. It is sweet and lovely and higher in calories than is good for me. A glass of lassi, a pappad and slices of mild sweet onion completed the dish.

It was not what I ordered (I think), but I am always pleased to encounter a local speciality, even by accident. The dhal was good, the churma irresistably moreish and although I would not seek out baati again, I would not go (far) out of my way to avoid them.

Our afternoon involved more shopping and wandering round the ever-interesting streets....

Street in central Udaipur

...and ghats of Udaipur until we returned to our hotel for Lynne to make up some lost sleep.

Ghat beside Lake Pichola, Udaipur

The Bagore Ki Haveli Cultural Show

In the evening we returned to the Bagore Ki Haveli and joined a long queue. Foreigners were hooked out and sent to join a much shorter queue, which was slightly uncomfortable, but foreigners of all hues pay almost twice as much as Indians so perhaps we were due better seats – or indeed seats at all, much of the audience sat on the floor.

The crowd, far more Indians than foreigners which is always encouraging at these shows, was marshalled into the auditorium and we sat on the indicated benches, and then everyone budged up to let more in, and then budged up again. I doubt UK fire regulations would have permitted quite such a large and densely packed audience in an old hall never designed for crowds, but we settled down as the band set the mood….

The band, Bagore Ki Haveli, Udaipur

….and then the first group of dancers twirled around with fire on their heads.

Dancers twirl with flames on their heads, Bagore Ki Haveli, Udaipur

Four girls with quick changes demonstrated various regional dances each one explained in advance in Hindi and English. A choreographed battle between good and evil changed the tempo…

The battle between good and evil, Bagore Ki Haveli, Udaipur

…and there was the inevitable puppet show.

Puppets, Bagore Ki Haveli, Udaipur

The finale involved a dancer with pots on her head…

Balance pots, Bagore Ki Haveli, Udaipur

…and then more pots….

More pots, Bagore Ki Haveli, Udaipur

….and finally an unfeasible number of pots.

Even more pots, Bagore Ki Haveli, Udaipur

And so the show ended. I am generally wary of these events, but this was slick, professional and genuinely entertaining.

We made our way back across the footbridge and along to our hotel. It was a bit late for dinner and we thought it wise to give our stomachs a rest, so we just had a nightcap instead.