I don’t think I ever heard of Bikaner before planning this trip. And I wouldn’t have chosen it as a stop except for my curiosity about the Rat Temple, not far down the road. But we’ve enjoyed a fascinating day today, visiting a Jain temple, a well-preserved 16th century fort/palace, and a camel breeding farm, and driving thru much of the town to get to those places.
Our room is very secure while we’re out, but it can be quite a challenge to get the door’s big padlock to close and lock.
The guide pointed out on a long stretch of road that dogs had placed themselves every 10-20 feet down the opposite side of the road - but none were on our side. The reason? People come in from the villages every day to work, and throw food to the dogs!
We definitely know we’re in the desert from the profusion of camel carts.
On our way to the Jain temple we came across this attractive family group. This would be a good time to note that everyone in India has been friendly to us. They’re drawn by curiosity, of course, but all I have to do is say hello or smile back and they return the smile or nod. Kids are especially friendly. BTW, we learned the most tourists in this area come from France, followed by Spain, Germany, and the UK.
We visited one of two Jain temples in town, both built by brothers who had no children but wanted posterity nonetheless. This one was small but overwhelming. It’s hard to choose just a few photos to give you a sense of its frescoes, gold leaf scrollwork, miniature paintings, etc. Here are a few - plus the welcomer/guard/whatever. (Temp was mid-50s at best.) We are learning something about Hinduism but for me the more I learn the more confused I get.
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| Visions of what hell will be like |
Leaving the temple, we found a sweatered goat looking for food, and an open drainage canal. Just down the street we found some very modern houses. There certainly isn’t any zoning here.
Next stop was Junagarh Fort, begun in the 16th century and expanded through the years. Never conquered, the building’s preservation is excellent. Inside: 37 palaces (though they seem to designate individual rooms as palaces), temples, and pavilions, many sumptuously decorated. It took us almost two hours to make our way along the tour route, it was all so interesting.
One tiny temple area is just inside the grand interior gate. While we waited for the guide to get our tickets, we watched most of the other visitors stop to make an offering, ring the bell, etc. Then, a big treat, and Kenneth recognized it right away: a newly-wed couple arrived with what I assume were two very proud and happy mothers (the groom also looks delighted; I wasn’t so sure about the bride). The give-away: the cord connecting them (look carefully in the second photo). Of course Kenneth spoke up right away and congratulated them, and the mothers had them stop just long enough for a snap. Next, they sat for a blessing (I assume). We’ve been learning about marriage traditions from our guide, and K finds the old village tradition of parents arranging marriages fascinating.
First stop: an exterior wall of one palace section that shows Muslim architecture at the top level, Hindu in the middle, and western European at the bottom. The Hindu maharajahs here were smart: when the powerful Mughal traders came along, they worked with them. This must have been a very important post on the southern silk route.
Some attractive restoration has been done, including this ceiling:
My favorite room was a small one, not glittery grand: the Cloud Palace. The story: after several years with no rain, the maharajah wanted to show his children what rain was, and designed this room with clouds on ceiling and walls and showers at the bottom. Yellow streaks of lightning are curvy in this tradition.
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The most sumptuous was the late 18th century Hall of Private Audience. The arch over the throne cushion was decorated with diamonds, rubies, and emeralds, not the colored glass we see now! The room was full of mirrors and gold, making it even more dazzling when a few lights were brought in. Oh my.
Another beautiful area has been restored in the oldest part with fine Persian-style miniature painting and elegant ceilings.
Another fabulous decorative wall/ceiling:
Here’s the founding ruler's low bed with silver legs: low so no enemy could hide under it and designed so his feet touched the ground while he slept, so he could jump up quickly to fight off murderous intruders.
One gallery exhibit was “beds” of daggers, nails, and swords - used for dancing entertainment!
As we left the tour route a family approached me, several with special Indian sweets in their hands, encouraging me to taste them. They seemed so enthusiastic and so genuine, and I recognized the bright yellow pastey one as a special gift many brought for the rats. So I pinched off a tiny bit of that as well as of a white crunchy ball, both sweet and really pretty tasty. They wanted me to eat more, but I persuaded them to let me take a picture of the group instead.
I do enjoy being places where there are not crowds of American tourists! And I was pleased that this historic site was full of Indian tour groups and visiting families. Kudos to the maharajah who turned this into a tourist site, and for sharing all his fabulous possessions for the displays. BTW, there will be no more maharajahs in Bikaner, as there were no sons from the last one. It’s his widow, daughter, and 33-year-old granddaughter (very marriageable, I’d say) who live in the palace just behind us. One big difference between this fort museum and the one in Jodhpur is that this one hasn’t hired an American to set up a museum shop, produce books on the displays, etc. Disappointing to just be able to get a few postcards.
Next, I agreed to a stop at an “embroidery factory” whose proceeds, the guide assured us, go to support not only families in the villages but also the Red Cross. The story is that textiles made in the villages come in here for sale (many demonstrations and a curious mind leave me unsure of the credibility of any merchant). It was a bit like the “warehouse” in Jodhpur, and with an equally talented “sales rep.” Two women were working on finishing up a big embroidered patchwork bed cover. And very faded color pictures of looms, etc. were posted on one wall. The fellow brought out at least 5 different kinds of scarves, varying in design and fiber. My favorites were the simplest (though not inexpensive) solids, made of camel wool (from the softest part, the neck) and silk. But I had already bought a scarf yesterday as a Khimsar memento, and resisted. He was disappointed not to be able to sell me one of the richly embroidered big pieces for bed or table; but old age has made me better able to resist beautiful purchases!
Time for a break, so back to the hotel complex for lunch at the other one. On the way, a good photo-position for another of the zillion camel carts on the roads in Bikaner:
The hotel was just at right angles to ours, built of the same reddish pink sandstone. Inside was a lighter, more “modern” design with an attractive green and blue color scheme. But getting - and paying for - lunch was a slow process. It was hard to find lunch-type items on the menu that didn’t include fresh fruits and vegetables (we are being very very good). The ones we chose were “not available,” the server said - even though we chose them from lists that indicated they could be ordered at this time of day. We settled for tomato soup and butter naan, thankful again for our US snacks in the room. When it came time for the bill, it seemed the fellow had never dealt with someone who wasn’t staying in the hotel. Others having lunch were all German and seemed to be part of a tour group.
On the short walk back to our palace, K pointed out the Fire system:
Back in the car at 4. It has gotten easier to understand our guide, and K asked him to review the marriage customs again while we drove to the national-government-funded Camel Breeding Farm. Interestingly, the sign at the entry said it’s part of the Ministry of Tourism! This turned out to be much more interesting than either of us expected. Our guide had told us camels are 2-humped animals that only thrive in the cold north, and there are only 33 in India. The one-hump ones we see here are the desert types, and are actually dromedaries, but for practical purposes everybody refers to them as camels. In addition to breeding nearly half the camels found in India (including for the border patrol), this place does research. Our first stop was a museum with displays on the broad variety of products made from camel hair, hide, and bone. Big photos showed performing camels and camels decorated with hair clipping!!
Many Indian tourists, including an attractive group of girls form a Delhi school - and one Japanese group - were visiting. Everyone knew to come in late afternoon when the camels had come in from their afternoon grazing on the desert. In one area kids two at a time got rides on a camel. Several big corrals had females gathered around a feeding trough. The males were housed separately (if they were with females, the males would fight, we were told). Of course since it’s a breeding farm, there are many more females. The staff has become expert at getting semen from the best males and impregnating the females that way, anyway.
I’ve never been in a position to get a good, safe photo of the rear-view of a camel.
This fellow was especially handsome, we thought. The guide said the high hump was an indication of his exceptionally good health.
The last corral we stopped at was for pregnant camels and babies. Even the “blonde” camels have dark-haired babies; you can tell the age by how much black is still on them. A 5-day old was lying next to his mother, with a man stationed nearby to make sure no other camel tried to bother it.
It was fascinating to watch the interactions in the area as they fed, moved to a corral with water, returned. At one point a big bowl of camel milk was placed on the ground and a gang of youngsters came over to drink (the guide thought they might be ones having trouble getting enough from their mothers - though we didn’t notice a system for recruiting them). It was funny to watch them deal with the empty bowl at the end.
I was hoping to find some little camel hide souvenirs at the bitsy shops on the way out. But the village ladies had not provided quality stuff to the merchants. I loved the necklace with camel teeth, but reminded myself I rarely wear the fascinating seed necklaces I got in Cuba, and I didn’t think anyone else I know would be eager to receive that as a gift, so I left with no packages. (My one regret: not getting it!)
We drove back through a new part of Bikaner, with very impressive houses. I knew they had to be here.
I took a walk around the park in front of our hotel and was surprised to see a big flock of green parrots flying back and forth among the trees, then returned to the lobby for a chat with the charming young reception guy. Turns out he was married in December, and told me all about his arranged marriage. More modern than our 34-year-old guide, he was allowed to actually meet and have a conversation with the bride before the commitment. I wish we had gotten into this yesterday, as he would have loved bringing in his photo album. But we leave Saturday before his afternoon shift. The lobby walls and ceiling, btw, are especially beautiful in the evening light:
The dinner buffet was surprising - rice, potatoes, pasta, and cauliflower mornay (can you believe the starch and the whiteness!) plus fish, after a starter of “cream of vegetable” soup. We weren’t as hungry when we left as we were last night. Then, while K read the NYTimes in the lobby on my iPad, I had a massage. The price was so cheap, and the traditional Indian Ayurvedic one was at the top of the list. I figured this was the place to do it (and maybe I’d sleep better). I had seen the door to the massage room open earlier, then wondered if I should cancel. A cluttered small space with two beds, no “donut” to hold the face down. But I went anyway for what turned out to be a very memorable experience. First, two women were in there and they chatted away as I undressed - no leaving the room while I got under a cover. They continued to chat for quite awhile as the work got underway. But it was all I could do not to laugh out loud….A new tourist group has arrived and they must have arranged for a special performance - in the room directly under this. A rock band with amplifiers couldn’t have made more noise. The cupboards in the room vibrated. I guess it was better that it was full of percussion and not the “whine-singing” from last night. But it lasted at full volume the entire 45 minutes of the massage. And the woman pushing the gallon of oil into every pore of my body was a super-strong little thing. I expect to have bruises on my legs for days.
Off tomorrow to a most splendid hotel in a most splendid city. Come along with us!
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