"Brothers and sisters, the time has come for each amd everyone of you to decide whether you are gonna be the problem or whether you are gonna be the solution.
You must choose, brothers, you must choose. It takes five seconds, five seconds a decision, five seconds to realize your purpose here on the planet. It takes five seconds to realize that it's time to move. It's time to get down with it. Brothers it's time to testitfy. I want to know, are you willing to testify? ... "[MC5 - Ramblin 'Rose live, opening speech]
Kick out the jams
Strange that on this beautiful morning, in one of the most uncommon places in the world, on waking up my iPhone is playing this very song. MC5. Their most famous song Kick out the jams begins with the unforgettable call Kick out the jams, motherfuckers. I agree. Just great. And is still true today. This energy, these dynamics.
The quintessence of the Sixties. The wonderful, unforgettable years. When everything changed.
But what am I talking about bygone days. I am here in Jodhpur, sitting on the roof terrace and enjoying an exquisite breakfast. My head is still heavy from sleep but ready for another day in Rajasthan. It is said that chemical processes in the brain, physiologically triggered for example by effort, create the impression of perceiving the world in a different way. The sky is bluer, the air smells fresher, a strange bliss flows through the body.
Perhaps it does not need any effort, no emaciation by hunger and thirst, to evoke this bliss. It is enough to sit and dream at breakfast on a morning like this. But as we know, the pleasure does not last. Because it is necessary to travel on. To Bikander at the edge of the desert. To the red city.
On this wonderful, clear and spicy-smelling morning I regret having to move on again. But time is running out! The hotel manager tells me that the government buses to Bikaner leave every hour, so there is no hurry.
So one last time walking through the alleys of the blue city. By the way, the colour blue marks the affiliation of the inhabitants to the caste of the Brahmans, but today non-Brahmans have also adopted this custom. It is said that the colour is an effective means of repelling mosquitoes. This seems to me to be more a characteristic that applies to the present day. It seems to me that there are actually no mosquitoes here …
There would still be so much to see. For example, north of the fort is the Jaswant Thada, the memorial building for Maharaja Jaswant Singh II, who died in 1895, or the Umaid Bhavan Palace, which is one of the largest and most impressive palaces in Rajasthan. And also the city's three stepped fountains. And so much more …
Everything they need
So I walk slowly and once again with the feeling of being in the absolutely right place at this moment, through the busy streets, greeting left and right, now no more with Julee but with namaste, and get some astonished looks.
A stranger in this place at this time seems to be rather an exception. People are relaxed, chatting, laughing, exchanging the latest news. These people do not need Facebook. They have everything they need.
Their future, however, is written in the stars. The climate in Jodhpur is hot and dry (desert climate); rain normally only falls during the monsoon season (mid-June to mid-September). The Climate Crisis has led to a drastic shortage of drinking water in large parts of India. This is particularly noticeable in Jodhpur. The city is one of the 21 major Indian cities whose groundwater reserves will be completely depleted in 2020 according to the government agency NITI Aayog.
The prospects are bleak. And once again it becomes clear how much climate change affects regions that are least guilty for the problem.
After a quarter of an hour I arrive at a large square with the Clock Tower in the centre, a relic of old British rule. Eventually I end up in a wholesale shop, where the owner proudly mentions the many buyers of his wonderful fabrics in Europe. While we are sipping a cup of tea, he proudly tells me about his business successes. Once again I am impressed by the business acumen of the people.
But this is no wonder, as Jodhpur has a long history as a trading city. Situated on a busy trade route that once connected Delhi with the province of Sindh, the city was built from the profits of the caravan trade in opium, sandalwood, dates and copper. Today Jodhpur is the seat of several educational institutions and a garrison town. The main economic sectors are the furniture, metal and textile industries. Most people, however, work as small traders, craftsmen, traders and in the service industry (rickshaw drivers, porters etc.).
With horse rishka to the bus station
Finally, a horse rickshaw takes me to the bus station. The coachman repeatedly shows me five fingers for 50 rupees before departure, so that there might be no misunderstanding about the price to be paid. I finally give him 100 rupees, but he has to promise to spend the extra money for the horse ...
The government bus
The fact that one should not believe certain statements concerning the availability and departure dates of the buses is something I know. A bus every hour?
The bus, whose engine is just being started, is the last one to Bikaner on this day. So I was lucky again. It is a typical government bus, primarily intended for the locals, and this is also reflected in the price. I pay 245 rupees, which is about the equivalent of 3.50 Franks, for a good six hours' drive.
Of course the bus is old, in bad condition, there is neither aircon nor fan, the hot air from the open windows must be sufficient. I like it like this. No idea why I feel so comfortable in these horrible vehicles. After a short time a young Indian man sits down next to me, introduces himself and a three hour long, extremely entertaining and informative discussion with the focus on India starts. It is amazing how much I learn about his country from this young man, almost eighteen years old, and once again I have to admit that I still don't know or understand anything.
Cows infirmary
After about half the way he says goodbye, I stay behind, now having a little more time to enjoy the view, the semi-desert scurrying past where camels, cows, goats are in search of food. At some point a large multi-part open hall, where there are nothing but cows. Apparently this is a kind of infirmary for injured and sick animals, which are cared for and nursed back to health. Who would have thought that. It is financed by donations from the faithful, who give everything for their beloved sacred cattle.
And once again - he who understands India understands the world.
A truly princely room
A TukTuk takes me to my hotel, along miserable, ghastly roads, and stops at the entrance of a beautiful ancient palace. Golly! This is my hotel? As a matter of fact, I have ended up in a former Maharaja palace, I am led into a huge room full of mirrors, precious sofas and armchairs and a gigantic canopy bed.
For a moment I am speechless, because neither my current appearance nor my clothes nor my luggage correspond to the usual customs of this establishment. In the huge inner courtyard, a mixed group of Germans and Swiss tourists have gathered and listen to the explanations of their guide.
I am invited to the gala dinner, but I am happy to do without it and let a young Indian, who runs a shop in the same alley, chauffeur me into an Indian restaurant, where I have a wonderful paneer butter masala ...
The organized group has already left early in the morning, presumably to the next hotspot to be reeled off in quick succession. And so it seems that I am the last and only guest It feels almost a little bit lost in the huge building, where apart from me there are only generations of birds that have found their home in the courtyard and a few silent ghostly servants. Very strange.
Amidst the stench and the heat
The route through the city, through the winding alleys going in all directions, sometimes nowhere, is a demanding task for a competent navigator, which I am not, of course. But at least I somehow make it to the centre of the city, i.e. where I like it best, in the middle of the biggest hustle and bustle, where the noise, the stench and the heat are the worst. Where camels pull heavily loaded carts. Where at least as heavily loaded and completely overcrowded TukTuks find their way through the turmoil.
Bikaner - on the edge of the desert
Bikaner is – as I will soon find out – not one of the tourist hotspots of Rajasthan. Which is very welcome for a change. Nevertheless, almost 700’000 inhabitants live here, which is not obvious at first sight. The desert Thar is located south, but its proximity is noticeable. The climate is warm to hot and dry; the amount of rainfall, which is extremely low for Indian standards, is less than 250 mm/year and falls mainly during the summer monsoon season. Like Jodhpur, Bikaner is one of the 21 major Indian cities whose groundwater reserves will be completely depleted in 2020.
It is important to explore a city on foot, not where the (normal) tourists go, but where real life takes place. Where all five senses are addressed. Where the ears throb. Where the heat evaporates the brain under the hat. Where the eyes rush continuously from one impression to the next. Only then can you feel it, see how it ticks, and then you can calmly switch to a means of transport.
Only then you really get to know it. You can feel its pulse, the energy flowing through the streets, life in its most varied form.
Louis XIV and no tourists
As already mentioned, I am travelling with light luggage, and since my laundry service is massively delayed (or did the giggling women misunderstand me?), I am forced to wear yesterday's sweaty clothes again. It's a bit uncomfortable for me, but I do like Louis XIV and, to celebrate the day, apply a little more deodorant and perfume (!?) to cover up the possibly somewhat strong smell.
But since it is not unusual for such olfactory attacks to get up my nose from all sides, I don't feel particularly guilty. After all, I'm not going on a date, but only on a long walk through the city and possibly to the next fortress, which - as it will turn out - is not much different from all the other fortresses I have come across so far.
Just, where are all the tourists? I don't mean the selfies-crazy Indian tourists, but the pale-faced ones with the reddened cheeks and the sunburned thighs and the shapeless hats on their heads? Not a single one of them. I strongly suspect that Bikaner is not one of the preferred destinations.
Did I mention it's hot? It is hot.
And another palace - the Junagarh Fort
After Jodhpur and its Meherangarh Fort, it is difficult for any other palace to compete. The Junagarh Fort, built of bricks and covered with reddish-yellow sandstone, in the interior partly also with white marble, indeed has it hard. Today, the fort is one of the best conserved Rajput palaces; however, it serves to a large extent as a museum.
Filigree, sometimes cheesy wood, lacquer and stucco work with mirror and glass inlays as well as wall paintings adorn the interior.
Saffron and other spices
In the evening - in fresh clothes, showered and blow-dried - I let my permanent Indian companion persuade me to visit the Spice market (which I don't really want, but the guys' strategies are so clever and refined, that you recognize them, but still knowingly fall into the trap).
So I buy overpriced saffron ( at a friend of my friend), get chauffeured to a cheap restaurant (no friend of my friend?) with an overpriced TukTuk (another friend of my friend) and finally buy overpriced small Ganesh statues (at the brother of my friend). And all this in full knowledge of how it is done. On the other hand, the costs are still bearable, and sometimes you have to pay tribute to such obvious talents without constantly thinking about your own wallet.
So the last Maharaja night. I have inquired, and the feeling has been confirmed: I am indeed the only guest. I feel like Van Helsing with Count Dracula in his castle in the Carpathians. Maybe the enchanted soul of a long-faded Maharaja is haunting the place and is looking for redemption (but not with an unsuspecting Swiss tourist who just happened to end up here). I don't care, the night is silent and clear and hot as hell ...
P.S. Matching Song: James Brown - Body Heat
And here the journey continues ... to Jaipur
