Adventure of the month

What do you do when India's 2nd largest Jain temple stands between you and your next scheduled stop? Easy, you hire a car and break up your drive with the coolest rest stop ever. The massive temple located in Ranakpur, midway between Jodhpur and Udaipur, is built entirely of marble and boasts 1444 carved columns with no two alike (well, maybe a couple are alike but no two are identical). We were there when the doors opened to visitors and stayed for what felt like minutes, but was probably closer to hours. I walked around completely awestruck, marvelling at the workmanship and artistry of each column, trying in vain to absorb each and every detail. As with the temples at Khajuraho, it was incomprehensible to me that prior to my research on India, I was not familiar with this site. And it is wonder-of-the-world level amazing! Were the temple anywhere else, it would be a major star attraction, but my theory is that India possesses such an embarrassment of riches when it comes

A sleeper train with bunks stacked three high brought us to our eighth stop, Jodhpur. Known as the blue city, not for its love of emotion-filled guitar-heavy music or the residents' inordinate sadness, but for the indigo blue tint used to paint many of its buildings, it is one of those places where you just know you can not take a bad photograph. The tiny cow-clogged lanes look so artfully distressed that you could swear that a team of decorators had recently come through with the latest shabby chic manual in hand. Our hotel lay smack in the middle of all that blueness at the foot of the Mehrangarh Fort, so even our pre-dawn arrival was not enough to keep me still for more than an hour or two. As soon as the sun peaked over the horizon, Laura and I were making our steep ascent up the hill, trying to keep an accurate count of how many ancient gates we had passed through, lest we bypass the entrance to the fort itself. Apparently, we were approaching from the back side, leading eve

It had been awhile since a new location usurped the title of "favorite Indian city... so far". Orchha was still hanging on strong but tragically for them, our 7th stop was Jaisalmer. Set in the thick of the Thar desert, Jaisalmer is something out of an arid fairy tale or as Lonely Planet puts it, a sand castle with a city attached. From the moment that we stepped off our over-crowded dusty bus and found a man with a bright Shahi Palace sign to the welcome drink that awaited us on the rooftop of the hotel, it was clear that this was the perfect place to kick back and relax. The hotel sits in the shadow of the aforementioned sand castle, or as it is better known, the Jaisalmer Fort, offering spectacular views from its rooftop lounge. Naturally, it is common to find backpackers hanging out on the multi-hued pillows at all hours enjoying the vista and kicking back on some spiced coffees. And to be clear, by spiced coffees, I mean Kingfisher beer. By this point, I had caught

I know I am not a normal tourist. The more offbeat and unusual an attraction is, the more I am drawn to it. In Paris, I made the obligatory trip to the Eiffel Tower, but it was the Sewer Museum that excited me most. My friend, AJ, still complains about a day sightseeing in LA that ended up in Watts (aka 'the hood') to see towers made of rebar and broken tile that had been erected by a local eccentric. I have dragged a carload of co-workers to the Funeral Museum in Houston. I live for this kind of stuff. Knowing this, it is no surprise how excited I was at the chance to visit the Karni Mata temple in Deshnoke. It is better known as the "rat temple", for its 20,000 or so furry rodents hanging out waiting to be fed and/ or venerated.

I am of two minds when it comes to Jaipur, the fifth stop on our journey throughout Northern India. On one hand, while I was there, I was extremely frustrated at the absurd amount of time wasted shopping, or to put it more accurately, sitting listlessly in stores. Our driver, Amar, had the unenviable task of making one avid shopper, one complete non-shopper and Laura, who could go either way, happy. Jaipur being a city well versed in shoving commerce down a visitor's throat, he usually opted for the path of least resistance and took us to a textile factory or a jewelry wholesaler or an antiques market or some other ring of Hell that I wanted no part of. I loathed it and by association, I loathed Jaipur and any moment not spent in a temple, fort or palace.

Our fourth stop was in Agra, the 'but' city. I call it that because everyone, Indian and traveller alike, will tell you what an unpleasant place it is, only to add "but you have to see the Taj Mahal". Following the spirit of the earlier India posts, this would be where I discredit this unfair myth and talk about how Agra is not really so bad. Let me tell you right now, that is not going to happen. The warnings and disclaimers are there for a reason. To begin with, Agra has to be one of the smoggiest cities I have ever seen. It's so bad that when we got off the train, we were sure there was a fire raging nearby. Our driver assured us there was no fire, this is just what the air in Agra looks like, air with the consistency of pea soup. Later, we went to a rooftop cafe that promised a Taj view and had to ask where, exactly, the Taj was. When someone pointed, all we saw was haze, no Taj. It didn't help that, even though it is the one building that everyone think

There are some decisions that are inspired and then there are those that are just plain dumb luck. Going to Orchha falls squarely into the latter category. None of the early versions of our itinerary had any mention of a stop in Orchha. The plan was to board a bus in Khajuraho and some twelve hours later, disembark in Agra. Laura and I had agreed to this and finalized the plans but as the date got closer, the prospect of such a long travel day was making me prematurely cranky. In hopes of changing this, I hit the guidebooks and the blogs searching for a suitable point inbetween that I could somehow pitch at this late date. Orchha immediately jumped to the forefront. The town has the standard combo of a fort, a palace and some Hindu temples, but where it gets a big gold star is in the fact that the palace doubles as a hotel and an affordable one, at that. A night living the life of a Maharani was something I could sell, even it meant we would have to cut short our stay in Khajuraho. W

My second stop, Khajuraho, led to the emergence of a pattern that would continue throughout the rest of our India travels. Of course, since it was the first occurence, at this point, it was not yet a recognizable pattern. I honestly believed that Khajuraho was and would remain my very favorite city in India. I loved the tranquility and accessibility of this small town and the temples we had come to see were remarkable beyond all expectations. It was unfathomable to me that any place on our itinerary could surpass this one. That is, until I got to the next city and felt the need to proclaim that one my all-time favorite, bestest place ever. I did this a total of four times.