Tuesday, 6 February 2018

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 NescafĂ© 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.

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 spent this day in Udaipur, the southernmost point on or tour 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.


-o00o-

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.

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 CafĂ© 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 CafĂ© 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 dĂ©cor - 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.