Camels. Part 2.

I’m sorry (as always) that it has taken me a long time to write part 2, but thank you all for your generous patience.

Days 2 through 7 of the safari passed slowly but pleasantly. We would wake up pretty soon after sunrise to a cup of tea, eat porrige or toast for breakfast and be in the saddle by 8am. Riding until lunch, Joe and I would discuss politics, our childhoods, play 20 questions and eye spy. Sophia and Ariana would share an ipod and we all plodded along.

As it came towards lunch time and the temperature steadily increased, the saddle became less and less comfortable and I began to think about food. Looking back on it, I don’t think the guides were actually very good cooks, but when you’ve spent hours in the sun and all you want is lunch and shade, the simplest curry tastes wonderful.

After lunch we would ride until sunset and then settle down, spread out our mats and blankets and help prepare dinner, which normally meant peeling garlic by mobile (cell phone) torch. The days were largely uneventful. Champa seemed to know people all over the coutryside and we were always welcomed with chai and curious stares. Sometimes we sat on our mats, like children too young to understand a family gathering, as Champa talked to the owners of the various fields and gardens where we would be spending the night. Some times we were ignored, sometimes our most mundane actions were observed by a fascinated crowd and sometimes when the crowd realised we had cameras, the field became the set of an impromptu photoshoot.

One lunch time as I was decorating my foot with henna, about 50 local women and girls turned up. They all gathered around to watch my very amateur work and to my surprise Champa told me that one woman had said, “I had no school. I can only do simple mehendi. You do very pretty henna. You must have had a lot of school.” The woman’s daughter then stretched out her hand and asked me to do a design for her. I did her palm and another girl’s too. As I drew, I wondered if many other Ragastani village girls had ever had their mehendi done by a foreigner. It seems unlikely.

In the beginning, we were very conscientious about drinking bottled water only. But as the safari progressed, the water supply dwindled and our dehydration increased we became more confident about our youthful invincibility and sampled water from various wells, pots and troughs across the countryside.  Although some would say that in the middle of nowhere, with a camel as the only form of transportation, testing rural water supplies was risky and possibly very stupid, somehow we survived and suffered no obvious ill-effects. As for dormant parasites.. well, no one’s perfect.

A definite highlight of the safari was our rest day. On our second last day, we rode only a few hours in the morning and then stopped at a temple to relax and have the day off. To our absolute delight, the temple had a shower! Or, at least had a hose, a large clay pot and a secluded area and so we took it in turns to undergo a radical transformation from dusty, sweaty and definitely smelly to clean, fresh and golden brown. It was a magical experience, even with the giant spiders and dangling hornets that crowded the tiny shower space.

After a very enjoyable week we found ourselves a mere 13km from Jodhpur and with only one night left under the stars. Unfortunately, Champa, who had technically been drunk from about 10am every day, decided to get absolutely wasted that night. Even more unfortunately, Govind decided to drink some whisky as well and we ended up basically baby-sitting our guides. Govind got very upset, began crying and insisted that in one hour he was going to take the camel cart, which contained all our bags, and drive it back to Pushkar. Champa tried to cook us rice-pudding, which was disgusting and none of us ate, and then started trying to provoke Govind. Although they seemed pretty harmless, for safety’s sake, we kept them occupied and apart. Our third guide, Dharmu just laughed the whole time.

The next morning annoyed me. Trotting on our camel was very painful, especially in my seat and despite our proximity to Jodhpur, Champa kept us riding at a fast pace. His only incentive was to reach the next town and his next drink. But we made it into the city safely and after a brief pay negotiation due to the unfortunate events of the night before, we parted ways with our guides and began our assimilation back into the real world of beds, hostels and superfast (60km/hour max) auto rikshaws.

It was an interesting and educational experience for many reasons. Although it first appeared very touristy and possibly tedious, there really are not many other ways to travel through the countryside like that, stopping in homes for chai, sleeping in fields under the stars and really seeing first-hand how rural Rajastanis live.