A Trip to the Village

Like many people living and working in Bombay, our driver Sagar comes from a village, where he lived until his immediate family moved to the city for work a few years ago.  The vast majority of India's more than one billion residents live in rural communities which have changed very little for centuries, with extended families living together to work the land and the way of life being strongly ruled by religion and tradition.

We know that Bombay is not the "real India" and that we would need to travel into the countryside to see how most Indians really live.  This is not a typical tourist experience and we were very lucky to have the opportunity to see authentic rural life when Sagar invited us to stay at his family's ancestral home in a small village called Shenwadi, 350km south-east of Bombay.  Sagar's grandfather and various members of his extended family are based there and he speaks of the village often, visiting whenever he can.

Sagar was excited by our enthusiasm to see his home and put an impressive itinerary together for the weekend.  We set off early on Friday morning and first drove up to Sagar's home in Airoli, a northern suburb of Mumbai, for (a second) breakfast and chai and to meet Sagar's mother.  We were welcomed into his home (a single room for his family, as is common in Mumbai) and met Sagar's friend Sagar (easy to remember), who would be joining us on the journey to the village. 

The journey was long but we travelled via Mahabaleshwar, a hill station 250km from Mumbai.  The geography around Mahabaleshwar is impressive; the hill station is set on a wide plateau 1500m above sea level and the views from the road on the ascent and from the hill station itself are incredible.  Mahabaleshwar is famous for strawberries and honey; there are farm shops and strawberry sellers everywhere, and it has many amazing look-out spots named after intrepid Victorian travellers.  We couldn't spend too long in the town, just long enough to enjoy a Gujarati thali for a late lunch, before setting off for Sagar's village, Shenwadi.

 Horse riding on Table Point near Mahabaleshwar

 View from the road curving down from the plateau

Monkeys in Mahabaleshwar.  There's a very small baby hidden curled upon next to the monkey lying down

We spent two nights in the village.  This was a huge eye-opener in terms of seeing a way of life which is so entirely different to our own.  Simply, the way of life in the village has changed very little for hundreds if not thousands of years, with deeply entrenched culture and tradition dictating the way of life.

We stayed in a small house outside the village which belongs to a relation of Sagar.  Compared with the other houses we visited, this was the height of luxury.  It had a bed (of sorts, we took our own bedding), proper stone flours and an outdoor wash room and squat toilet.  We were slightly perturbed when another family seemed to be living there when we arrived but it seemed that they were supposed to be in the room next door and were quite happy to move out.  We felt very guilty but Sagar didn't seem at all bothered!  The kind mother whose room we had invaded spent the next two days making chai and offering to boil hot water for us!

We ate with Sagar's family during our stay.  The members of his family in the village at that time were two uncles, their wives and two children (Prasad and Pooja, aged 12 and 15).  Sagar's ancestral home is old, over 50 years, and has five rooms, all with uneven mud floors and no separating doors.  None of the village houses we visited had any furniture (people sleep on mats on the floor) and all cooking is done over an open fire in the kitchen (gas is too expensive).  There is electricity, the notable modern features are a television and mobile phones, but on the whole the house could be from a past century.  None of Sagar's family speak any English so our (limited) Hindi did come in handy.  They cooked fresh and tasty vegetarian food for us throughout our stay and could not have been more welcoming.

Upon arrival at Sagar's ancestral home.  There is no furniture - we sat on mats on the floor 

Dinner on the evening we arrived.  The fresh sweet curd (closest to the camera) was a particular highlight 

Chilli press - a family business - and Prasad 

Joining in with the food preparation, all cooked over an open fire

On Saturday morning, Sagar insisted that we should have hot water for a wash, which involved heating a pot of water over an open fire!  It was fun but I'm glad that we don't have to do that every morning...

Our home for the weekend (through the door on the right) 

Heating up water for washing 

A village scene 

Bapu enjoying his breakfast 

House water storage 

Outside the front door to the house

After breakfast, we visited the nearby town of Aundh including a temple of top of a tall hill with spectacular views and a charming museum documenting the history of the area (complete with a western section including a print of the Mona Lisa).  The 5 rupee foreigner entrance fee confirmed that we were truly off the tourist track.  We were accompanied by the two Sagars and Sagar's impish cousin Prasad and had several stops on route to see the village well, some impressive trees and Sagar's friends working in the fields.

Irrigation by hand 

On the way to Aundh (we're standing on a large log next to some impressive trees) 

The hilltop temple 

With the two Sagars on the walls enclosing the temple 

Prasad 

The two Sagars 

The history of Aundh museum 

Aundh museum

We then visited a cattle market in Aundh which was fascinating.  A good ox seems to sell for between 20,000 and 30,000 rupees and many had been daubed in various bright colours to make them more attractive!  We were to meet Sagar's uncle (Prasad's father) who was trying to sell one ox and buy another, but had unfortunately not been successful.  After some cattle browsing, and confirming that we would not be able to fit one in the car, we settled at a nearby food area for jalabi (deep fried batter swirled soaked in syrup, very tasty, not so healthy) and bhel (crispy snacks) for a light lunch.

Aundh Cattle Market 

Making jalebis 

Lunch (all with an orange hue) 

Pink cows - to attract attention 

Cows with painted horns, again, they are considered to be more attractive this way 

Sagar's uncle on his way home from the market

We visited the fort at Bhushangad on the way back to the village, a steep hill with a temple and fort on the top where Shivaji (Maharashtrian hero) was thought to had lived for a while.  Again, the views of the surrounding countryside were amazing.  I think I would have been more interested in crop irrigation techniques in my Year 9 geography class had I seen this live at the time.

View of the fort from the road 

Philip at the top of the fort

I returned home for a snooze whilst Phil went out to get a village haircut (30p but he left a 20p tip) and played cricket with the locals, where he was pleased to get a respectable score before been caught out (village rules allow one bounce before a catch, much to Phil's disappointment).

Haircut, village style 

Hitting a four (so I'm told)

Before dinner, we visited Sagar's second family home in the village to meet his grandfather and admire the various family cattle.  We watched Sagar's aunt milk the family buffalo, which was then boiled and served to us fresh.  It is very rich and creamy.  Once our presence was known, every house in the village wanted to invite us in and give us milk which was very kind, although there's only so much fresh buffalo milk that one can take!  After a simple meal of dal and pooranpooli (tasty sweet bread) at the family home, we retired to our room for an early night.

Milking the buffalo (we didn't try it) 

With a cheerful local family

Sunday 26 January is an important day in India; Republic Day, where I understand the aim is basically to celebrate all things Indian.  The village had various flag raising and national anthem ceremonies (Indian's are very proud of their country) and the children of the village participated in a parade through the village.

Rather embarrassingly, given that we were the only non-Indians in the village and, worse, British, we were asked to raise a flag to mark Republic Day.  We were treated as honoured guests which was very touching, and it was great fun watching the celebrations, even if we felt a bit daft not knowing the words to the national anthem (although we managed the customary salute pose).  Sweets were given out to children (Sagar marched us to the shop to make sure we had lots of bags ready) and we visited the primary school where the parade had gathered.  Phil was asked to make an impromptu speech which he did well, albeit very few people had any idea what he was saying in English.

A decoration in the street 

Lining up for drills in the local primary school 

On the wall of the primary school 

Mysterious coconut bashing ceremony before the flag was raised 

Raising the flag which unfortunately got stuck.  A man climbed quickly onto the roof of a nearby building to sort it out

After the parade (and another yummy breakfast), we visited the secondary school in the village, which accommodates children aged between 10 and 16.  This was excellent and we visited every classroom where the students were waiting for us.  Our visit was clearly a great novelty and I was impressed with the teacher, who was positive yet articulated the challenges of getting children to attend school regularly in a rural area.  Whilst the children were dressed smartly. there were no books or obvious resources, other than blackboards.  The children did not appear to have anything to write with or on.  Infact, I didn't see pens, paper or books anywhere during our visit to the village.

The local secondary school.  There are six year groups and one classroom for each.  Classes are taught in Marathi

 

With the school teachers 

This sign apparently emphasises the importance of attending school and not skipping classes!

The difference in status for men and women in society is stark.  First, women are far less visible on the streets in the village.  In the Republic Day celebrations, the attendees were children and men, I was the only women with the exception of a few school teachers in the school parade.  In the school, the gender balance was fairly even up until the final class at school (10, aged 15 and 16) and yet the girls in the village are expected to be married at 18, and Sagar said that being unmarried at 21 would be considered old.  It reminded me of a Jane Austen novel, Indian style!  All the women I met were charming, welcoming and happy (from what I could see) but I find the lack of opportunity to change their position in life difficult and unfamiliar.

To finish our visit, we exchanged gifts with our hosts.  We had bought lots of sweets and other edible goodies from Mumbai as well as some money in a decorated envelope (all prepared on the advice of my work colleagues).  The gifts we received from Sagar's family were extremely generous and humbling.  A pink sari for me, and a Gandhi cap with clothing material for Phil, along with two coconuts.

Exchanging gifts before leaving the village

Sagar's one disappointment was that he was very keen for us to try freshly cooked chicken in the village, but this would have involved us staying until Sunday afternoon and hence driving back to Mumbai in the dark and getting back in the early hours of Monday morning, so I put my foot down!  Sagar loves chicken so I suspect that this plan was driven at least slightly by this factor.  Chicken or no chicken, the village was a truly memorable experience and one which we are privileged to have enjoyed.

Our First Indian Wedding

I have always wanted to go to an Indian wedding.  I went to one when I was seven, but I'm not sure that counts, as I can't really remember it.  Anyway, going to an Indian wedding has been firmly on the to-do list for our time in India.  The obvious first step is being invited to one, but Indians are generally kind hospitable people who invite many family, friends and not-so-close acquaintances to their weddings, so we were pleased when the first opportunity came up last week.

As my team at work is growing quickly, I've spent lots of time interviewing candidates and we have recently made an offer to a student actuary who is joining us in February, following his wedding and honeymoon.  A few days ago, he arrived at our office, completely unexpectedly, to hand over a wedding invitation!  Excellent.  I would be more than happy to represent work at this event.

My original plan was to go in a sari, and I tried on a few options at a colleague's house, but for various practical and protocol related reasons, it was eventually decided that I should wear western dress instead and save the sari for another time.  The wedding invitation indicated that this is a traditional Maharashrian wedding (apparently) which differs from a big Hindu wedding in that (i) the ceremony tends to be smaller and quicker; and (ii) it takes place in the morning followed by lunch rather than being an all night affair.

We arrived at the wedding hall at 1030, where the guests were entering the hall.  All the men seemed to be going in first so Phil and I split up at this stage in an attempt to follow the correct protocol. Once inside, we watched the various ceremonial activities which involved lots of music, dancing and singing.  The bride arrived by being carried to the groom in a ceremonial seat held over the heads of six men and the dresses / jewelry / make-up of the bride (and everyone in fact) was stunning.  After the initial procession, the bride and groom processed up to the stage where they sat and performed various other traditional rituals, which seemed to involve lots of walking round a (real) fire.  After two hours of so, this all seemed to be over and we were able to go up and greet and congratulate the bride and groom.

Ceremonial carriage

The groom with leaves 

Lots of very colourful women

Whilst all this was going on, waiters (wearing rather unusual and cool Chicago gangster hats) handed out fruit juice and Indian nibbles to keep everyone entertained.  The guests were happily socialising whilst the ceremony was going on, very different to a church wedding in the UK.

Gangster waiter 

The bridal party on the stage 

There were lots of camera stations and video cameras in the hall

With the ceremony over, and rather full of nibbles, we were ready to head off shortly after 1300, but the man at the door insisted that we go downstairs for lunch. This was incredible, and explained the reduction in the number of guests upstairs.  There was a vast dining halls with many food stations serving delicious goodies.  We paced ourselves, knowing that we would be running the next day, but it really was delicious.  Phil made a slight error with the range of mouth freshening sweets that he sampled, which were a little potent even for Phil,  but the food was otherwise delicious.

One of many Ganeshas 

At the entrance to the hall 

The band - very loud! 

The basement of the hall with a huge array of food

One stark difference between this Hindu wedding and a typical UK wedding was that no alcohol is served, but you genuinely didn't miss it.  The colour, energy, singing and dancing was more than enough in itself.

We were the only non-Indians at the wedding where there were hundreds of guests.  We clearly stood out, but many people were friendly and welcoming to us, even if there was a bit of a language barrier at times. We felt very welcome and pleased that Vishwa and Dhara had invited us to share their day.

Our First Mumbai (Half) Marathon

Several months ago, shortly after moving to Mumbai, Philip and I decided to enter the biggest running event in India's calendar, the Standard Chartered Mumbai Marathon.  Whilst the marathon is the main attraction, drawing elite runners from around the world, the event actually includes a half marathon and several shorter fun runs, with approximately 40,000 people participating in total.  It's the one day of the year when the major routes of South Mumbai are cleared of traffic and there is the opportunity to run freely in the open on Mumbai's streets, a rare privilege in this busy city.

At the time we applied, I hadn't run a 10k, never mind a half marathon, and so I decided that running the half marathon would be more than stretching enough in itself.  Phil, bravely, decided it was time to try the full marathon distance.  Getting a place is non-trivial - you have to apply very quickly on the day that applications open - but you will usually manage this if you have a 10k or half marathon timing certificate to prove that you can run.  I didn't, but saw that there is a special category for women without timing certificates to encourage women who haven't run much before to get involved.  I tried this route, and it worked, albeit I knew that a consequence of this approach would be starting right at the back of the field...

We both enjoy running and did a bit in the UK, but it is only now that we are living in Mumbai that I realise that I took the running opportunities available in the UK for granted.  There are several challenges with running outdoors in Mumbai - there is very little green outdoor space, the air is badly polluted (particularly at certain times of year) and it's hot and humid.  But we like a challenge, and it's always fun to run, so we've tried to keep it up despite the barriers.  Phil often gets up at 6am on a Sunday to meet with a group of running friends, and I've tried to keep up running in the gym and more recently at Joggers Park, a 400m walking/running track fairly close to our apartment.

Saying that, we were both under-prepared for our respective races.  I had been doing two to three runs a week on a treadmill in the gym in November / December, which is better than nothing, but doesn't prepare you for outdoor running conditions.  I then got a sore throat / cough / cold just before Christmas which I didn't shake off (eventually with the help of antibiotics) until a week before the half marathon, resulting in little to no training in that period.  My entire outdoor training consisted of one 13k run at Mahalaksmi racecourse (the best place that we've found to run in the city) last week.  Oh dear.  Phil had done more than me, with a couple of 20k+ runs, but he's only really been in training for a couple of weeks where as a marathon requires months of prep.  He is naturally fit, but would his legs be strong enough without sufficient miles on the clock?

Mindful of the fact that my training plan had been light to non-existent, I set myself three simple objectives for the race.  1)  Finish. 2) Don't get injured. 3)  Try to go under 2 hours if possible.  Whatever the outcome, the atmosphere at the half marathon is supposed to be fantastic so I decided that I might as well just try to enjoy it.

Following eating a big bowl of pasta for dinner, we went to bed early last night given that our alarm was set for 330am this morning.  Both our races would be underway by 6am, we had to get there an hour before and travel to the starting point (different for the half and full marathon).  Overall, the early start is worth it to avoid the heat, but it's hard to appreciate that at 330am on a Sunday!  Phil got a lift down south to the start of his race whilst I wandered down the road (trying to avoid the scary feral dogs) to the half marathon starting point located conveniently close to our apartment in Bandra.

On the whole, the event was extremely well organised.  The races set off on time, everything was clearly sign-posted, the chips worked, there was lots of water/juice/biscuits/oranges on the route and the level of dis-organisation and carnage in the holding pens was low.  Security was high, as is necessary in Mumbai, given the attacks in the city in recent years and high and international profile of this event.  The biggest challenge for me was that I was in the last pen, albeit I made it to the front of the area by arriving early.  I was therefore stuck behind lots of people who didn't attempt to run when we crossed the start line, which led to a lot of dodging and weaving between people for the first 7k to 8k, making it difficult to settle into a running rhythm.  I finished around 1000 out of 12000 people, but started more than halfway back, so there was a lot of overtaking going on! It does though increase ones confidence to be overtaking the pack rather than being overtaken yourself. It is good for one's morale....

The first half of the race took place in the dark and involved crossing the Bandra-Worli sealink which was rather exciting.  The sun came up after the first 10k and I was feeling relaxed and comfortable (probably owing to the slow start) up to the 13k mark.  Unfortunately, there is a hill lasting over a kilometre between 13k and 15k which I did not like, at all, and I could feel that my legs were beginning to suffer.  Unfortunately, my visions of sprinting off for the last 5k using my remaining energy did not come to pass and it felt more like a matter of hanging on, but I'm pleased that I ran all the way and finished spot on 2 hours.  The second half of my race was still faster than the first and I suspect that I would have found the end of the race much easier had I actually done some long runs beforehand, so I've only got myself to blame.

I felt remarkably fine after the race, probably because I'd been munching on the various food/drink options on offer throughout, and recovered by enjoyed a complimentary massage in the recovery tent and collecting my medal.  The post-race area was vast with a vibrant atmosphere as the participants enjoyed their post-race refreshments.  This is still India though, and there were lots of street urchins keen to take my food goodie bag off my hands.  After a couple of biscuits, I decided that they needed it more than me and gave it away.

Whilst I was feeling chirpy, Philip was having a tough end to his race.  He stayed on target for the first 21k but his feet blistered badly after that (they are really quite disgusting) and his legs began to suffer.  He still ran what I think is great time, 3h50, but this was below his expectations.  He was a funny shade of grey when I met him after the finish line, so he did a great job to finish, although is now struggling to walk, and cannot currently do stairs!  This just proves that a marathon is a big undertaking.  My feedback point to Phil is that a pair of new and proper breathable sports socks might be in order (he wears normal black work socks with his running trainers...) so I hope that this will make a difference next time.

There were several brilliant-ly Indian aspects of the event.  The streets were lined with musicians for the final few kilometres (huge speakers, very loud music) and the crowds were very enthusiastic throughout the race. There were some runners who were awe-inspring.  Phil was overtaken in the marathon by an old man running in bare feet wearing an old open shirt and loin cloth.  I also saw the elite marathon runners at one point who were tanking along, quite incredible over that distance.  My favourite part were the "Cool Zones" which were shown on the race map and turned out to be rows of air conditioning units (outside!) making no difference to the race temperature whatsoever.  A nice try, but probably not worth it for next time.

We went home once Phil had finished as he wasn't feeling great but he managed a post-race photo once we got home.

My race number indicates where I came in the pecking order 

A bit tired

After a good snooze, we had a mountain of breads and curry as a mid-afternoon meal and everyone is now feeling much better.

Unexpected lighting

As you might expect in Mumbai's Catholic hub, there were a reasonable number of decorations in our area, Bandra, over Christmas and New Year.

The best, however, arrived when I would usually expect lights to be coming down. Last week, our street only was transformed into a tunnel of lights. The photograph below doesn't do it justice, but there are white, yellow and green lights strung densely along the full length of our street (a few hundred metres), creating an awesome tunnel effect.

The closest thing I've seen to this before is in Las Vegas, but these lights are much more tasteful. Our driver has asked around and found that they have been assembled by a local crore-pati (has at least one crore, equating to £100k); A K Motiwala, who owns a jewelry shop at the end of the street. Why he's done this, we do not know, it's yet another of the rather unexpected (but very nice) things that can happen in Mumbai.

Our street, 1st Road Bandra, shortly after sunset

Family trip to Rajasthan

Following the excitement of Christmas Day, and once my family had been allowed a three day rest in Mumbai following their flight from the UK, we set off for a six night holiday to Rajasthan.  No-one in my family is very good at doing nothing, so we had planned a three stage action-packed trip to Jodhpur, Jaisalmer and the countryside outside Jodhpur.  We arranged the holiday to attempt to give my family a realistic view of Indian life - staying in hotels in the midst of the action, and travelling on trains and plenty of autorickshaws - but would it be too basic for their requirements?  We would find out...

As an aside, I should say now that I made a little error.  I knew that Rajasthan would be colder than Mumbai but it was quite a lot colder than I expected, especially at night, so it was a rather chilly holiday.  My brother Peter tried to counter this by buying a 200 rupee fake sleeveless Puma bomber jacket, but I hadn't quite prepared me or anyone else for the UK-like conditions (it wasn't raining though!).  We were glad to return to the warmth of Mumbai at the end of the trip.

First, The Blue City, Jodhpur, where we stayed in a beautifully restored haveli in the heart of the old city.  The old city is true India; packed with cows, people, dirt, noise and relentless energy and activity, but Bristow's Haveli was a haven in the midst of the craziness. 

The majestic Mehrangarh fort

 View of the fort from the vibrant central market and clock tower

Rajasthani-style autorickshaw

 

 

The first gate to the fort 

The sleep climb up to the fort - a bit tricky for invaders 

Mum and the musicians 

Beautiful furnishings at Bristow's Haveli 

The palace inside the fort.  Home to the local royal family for over 500 years, though they've now moved to a new palace down the road. 

One of Jodhpur's newest and most exciting attractions is a series of zip wires across the fort.  As this meets British safety standards and comes endorsed by Boris Johnson, my parents and brother gave it a go. 

On firm ground during the zip wire trip 

The nearly royal mausoleum 

More marble

After two nights enjoying the wonderful food and hot water bottles in Jodhpur, we had an early morning start to catch at 735 train to Jaisalmer.  We made it to the station for the required time without a problem but, sadly, the train didn't fare as well as us and finally turned up just after 11 o'clock.  Four hours waiting in a train station truly exposes you to the sights and smells of India (the toilets were some of the worst I've ever encountered, and I've seen bad things after living in India for 7 months) and we were all glad when the train started moving at 1130. 

Once we were on our way, my parents and brother seemed to thoroughly enjoy the adventure of travelling in Sleeper class although there was a lack of chai and chaat wallas in the train so we all got a bit peckish.  The highlight of the journey was when my father and brother got off the train at a station in search of chai, assuming that the train would be stationary for a while, as at all the previous stops.  Unfortunately, they hadn't been gone for long when the train started to pull out, accelerated quickly, and left the platform behind.  We had accidentally left them on a station platform 100km from the nearest big city!  Or so we thought....after 10 minutes of my Mum panicking and Phil and I marvelling at the apparent mess of the situation, they wondered into our carriage having jumped on further down the train.  Drama over, we settled down to enjoy the rest of the journey and play cards with a local (as is traditional on Indian train journeys).

We arrived in Jaisalmer an hour before sunset and were warmly welcomed to our hotel by our hospitable host Krishna with a beer / chai on the roof terrace and a chance to fly the hotel kite over the roofs of the city.  We spent one night in Jaisalmer itself before travelling to the desert for our overnight camel safari.

 Kite flying over Jaisalmer fort at sunset

 

Lots of hungry pups of different sizes, not all belonging to the mother dog... 

Lots of shops inside Jaisalmer fort.  Amongst the hawkers, I found a friendly lady who runs a women's village cooperative and was selling lovely table runners and wall hangings.  I picked up a couple of these and a camel bone massage ball (admittedly that was an impulsive purchase).

 On the walls of the fort

 A cow being fed a breakfast of chapattis



Jaisalmer fort in the sun from the roof of a spectacular old haveli 

 The royal cemetery for over five centuries of royal rulers

The camel safari exceeded my expectations and I would thoroughly recommend the company that we used, Pleasant Camel Safaris.  It was not luxurious, but we were very well looked after and had an authentic and good value experience.  I was expecting to dislike the camels but they were lovely - very well behaved, predictable and clearly cared for well by their owners.  My own camel, Captain, lead the way on our second trip although Philip was sadly stuck with the plodder which struggled to keep up with the group, however much he chivvied it along with the reins.  David the camel was a bit flatulent (as were they all really) but we bonded well and no-one was bitten or thrown from the saddle, a good result.  Peter had a young racing camel and its owner, a cheerful local, took Peter galloping over the horizon on several occasions.

Another highlight of staying in the desert was the stars which were crystal clear, with no clouds or other natural light anywhere near our camp.  We slept on roll-out mats under a large pile of blankets so we could look directly up to the sky.  I found this wonderfully cosy.  Unfortunately, Mum and Dad weren't listening to the instructions and three Taiwanese girls in our groups took their extra blankets without M&D realising what they were missing.  Oops.  Phil and I slept for ten hours whilst they, apparently, slept for zero, so on average we did alright for soft westerners spending a night outside.

The safari trip was a true back to nature experience and using the lavatories involved finding a suitably bushy plant and asking everyone else to turn the other way.  Unfortunately, this was a bit too natural for my Mum who insisted on walking to the Pakistan border for every toilet trip - we thought we'd lost her for good on one occasion, but she made it back to the camp eventually.

Bubli the camel, before I moved to Captain

Dad with his holiday hat 

Marching in a line 

David and Philip (in his holiday hat)

Resting 

Returning from a long toilet trek 

Happy camel 

A cosy bed for the night (for some) 

Sunrise camel

After the adventure of the train, we had a trusty and punctual car to take us to the final location, Chandelao, a little village 40km outside Jodhpur.  The hotel was quiet and relaxing after our action-packed itinerary.  Phil managed to run most of a marathon on quiet roads around the village (though nearly asphyxiated himself with dust) and I pottered around the village and visited a local arts and crafts cooperative for the women of the village.  My Dad, on the other hand, spent most of the first day moaning that the lamp in his bedroom had a frayed wire and would therefore not meet UK Health and Safety standards; and the second day moaning that the hotel hadn't fixed this following him raising the matter.  Three words - This Is India.  In a country where whole families travel around by balancing precariously on a wobbly scooter, no-one will prioritise fixing a lamp (sorry Dad).

Ladies working to produce colourful crafts for sale.  I bought a block print blue bag, my new favourite 

The door to our room at our hotel in the village - a converted Indian mini-stately home

Chandelao Garh - We were staying in the room on the second floor at the front with the coloured windows 

Spooky stuffed tiger, quite mouldy, with Peter

As is traditional, we all went to bed at 9pm on New Years Eve, after watching a bit of the music and dancing laid on by the hotel.  The dancing ladies balancing pots filled with fire on their heads were pretty impressive, but sleep overtook us (the camel safari night was still affecting some people...) so we were all extremely anti-social and agree to say Happy New Year in the morning and head back to Mumbai.  Quite right too.

Veronica coped admirably with the washing on our return.  Unfortunately we'd had a slight incident before the holiday where all Pete's expensive white t-shirts and shirts were washed with my new bright red kurta and came out a deep shade of pink.  Thankfully, pink seemed to suit him well and it gave him a good reason to get some new shirts tailored in Mumbai as replacements.

We're now home alone again but with lots of blogging with which to catch up.  There's more to come soon...