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Mukul had asked if we could bring him a cup of tea in the morning when we made ours. We promptly made a cup and I arranged it with some biscuits on a tray. It was nice for us to be able to serve him for once! He was on the phone when I knocked on his door and we gave each other happy Diwali wishes. He refused the cookies but said that the tea made his day. I photographed the paintings in our room while we got ready for the day.
Craig and I wandered around discovering new rooms and hallways in the palace on our way to breakfast. Finding the dining room wasn't exactly straightforward. There were so many rooms! We found ourselves in a fancy room which overlooked the sunken dining room. There were scalloped arched doorways which were detailed with gold paint. Pink and white marble columns reached up to the high ceilings. Brown and white geometric marble tiles made up the floor. There were glass globe light fixtures, and red and gold glass Christmas bulbs dangled from the ceiling, presumably as Diwali decorations. Mirrored mosaics of tree and peacock motifs decorated the walls. We sat with Mukul at one of the elegantly appointed tables. There were fewer Indian food choices here, so Craig had a made-to-order omelette with cheese, onion, and mushroom. I had watermelon, pineapple, and cereal. The Rawat had been eager for Mukul to hear a new audiotour of the palace. They brought Mukul a headset and he listened to it during breakfast, as our schedule wouldn't really permit him to hear it otherwise. He heard the introduction by William Dalrymple and after that a Q&A style guided tour of the palace from Rani Saheba and Rawat Sahib. A young man came over to introduce himself to Mukul. He is from a royal family elsewhere in India, and is trying to learn how to convert their palace into a heritage hotel. Mukul’s reputation preceded him, and Rawat Sahib’s family had told this young man that he should make it a point to meet him. After breakfast Craig and I went into the gift shop where all items offered for sale are hand-selected by the royal women. We bought three silk scarves, a book about the palace (for 40 rupees only!) and a miniature painting from the artist who is helping to restore paintings in the guest rooms. The Deogarh School of miniature paintings is an offshoot of the Mewar School of Udaipur.The painting was incredibly detailed, and depicted a Hindu wedding. Craig and I pictured Mukul's son Sukumar and his fiancee Sonam as the bride and groom. The painting had Hindi writing on the back, so we would need to find a way to display it so that both sides are visible. We wandered around the property a bit and I took a picture of the swimming pool. Once again we hadn't had time to utilize this lovely amenity. As we returned to our room, we took one of our final rides in the charming little elevator. Because the palace had been retrofitted for accessibility, there apparently had not been room for a full-sized elevator. In fact it was so small that people can't fit along with their luggage. Employees take luggage on the stairs and only guests ride in the elevator. The back wall of the elevator is decorated with a mirrored mosaic of lotus flowers, parakeets, and butterflies. When you reach your floor, you have to be sure to manually close the door. Otherwise when someone summons the elevator, it won't come. Shortly after 10 o’clock we checked out. While we were getting settled in the car, we got to say goodbye to Rani Saheba and Rawat Sahib's son and thank him for his family's incredible hospitality. As we drove, we arrived at a railroad crossing. A worker manually closed the gate across the road, so we needed to wait until the train passed through. We are used to train crossings where the gates are automatically tripped by the approaching train. This was totally manual, and there was no sign of the train at first. We wondered how long we would need to wait. As more and more people arrived at the crossing, they didn't line up behind one another, but instead extended side by side, the entire width of the road. On the other side of the tracks, the same thing was happening, and soon there was a wall of motorbikes pointed right at us. When the train finally passed and the worker manually opened the gates, it was a free-for-all as vehicles faced off yet somehow everyone got through safely. We stopped in Charbhurja Village and walked up the streets lined with houses and businesses. The locals were wearing extremely colorful clothing. It was an old city and we enjoyed some of the architectural details, such as a brass door knocker depicting parakeets, which was covered in multiple layers of chipping paint. We walked up some marble staircases shaded by banana trees to a shrine of Krishna. We got a yellow tilak on our foreheads here. The shrine was surrounded by embossed metalwork, and the effigy of Krishna was bedecked in marigiolds. There was a group of children who were very interested in us, and I really piqued their curiosity when I had to change the memory card on my camera. They gathered around us and watched with interest. One of the boys told us that he had come from Mumbai just to worship in this particular temple. We got back into the car and continued on toward Udaipur. The roads were getting more windy and decreased in altitude. We noticed a lot more green trees and scrub brush. The landscape was becoming less deserty. We stopped and Mukul got some photos of women and children worshiping snakes at an animist shrine by the side of the road. Then we drove through the village of Sadri. As we passed through Ranakpur, we stopped at the King’s Abode, a brand new hotel which was gearing up for its first onslaught of Indian tourists over the Diwali holiday. The lobby had some very interesting antique carved wooden doors on display as artwork. We were led to the spacious dining room and enjoyed our traditional lunchtime treat of lassi and fritters. Craig and I relaxed at the table while Mukul took a quick tour of the property. He is friends with the owner and had promised to stop in to see the new hotel. Then we went to the nearby Shri Ranakpur Jain temple. We needed to leave anything made of leather in the car, so we entered barefoot. It was a three-tiered temple with many sikharas (steeples) visible from the front. We climbed a staircase and entered the temple. According to The Rough Guide to Rajasthan, Delhi, and Agra "The main temple was built in 1439 according to a strict system of measurement based on the number 72 (the age at which the founder of Jainism, Mahavira. achieved nirvana). The entire temple sits on a pedestal measuring 72 yards square and is held up by 1440 ( = 72 x 20) individually carved pillars. Inside, there are 72 elaborately carved shrine, some octagonal in shape, along with a main deity (a 72-inch tall image of the four-faced Adinath the first tirthankara) encased in the central sanctum." (350-351)No two of the 1440 columns are alike. The temple is made of white marble. Though photos were allowed within the temple, it was forbidden to photograph the shrines of the deities. I respected these rules, but one of the guards thought that I had photographed one and demanded to see the photo. When I showed it to him on the camera, he was satisfied. I imagine if I had actually photographed one of the forbidden shrines, he would have made me delete the photo. The ceilings of the temple were elaborately carved in lotus motifs. Crystal chandeliers hung from their centers. Some of the sikharas were being restored, and wooden scaffolding surrounded them. We saw statues of people riding elephants. These people were patrons who had helped to pay for the construction of the temple, so they were bestowed with the honor of having their likeness within the temple. Mukul told us about the Jain religion, which is based on causing no harm to any living thing. Some Jains even cover their mouths with a mask to prevent accidentally ingesting insects, thereby inadvertently destroying a life. The pavement was very hot and my feet were on fire as we walked back to the car. When I had left my leather shoes in the car, I hadn't been aware that I could have left them right at the door to the temple. We got back into the car and continued on toward Udaipur. We passed wells where bulls were walking in circles to pump water. We passed a group of women in turquoise and blue dresses with large gold hoop noserings and silver necklaces who were on their way to a wedding. We crossed the mountains and traveled on a highway that was largely deserted. It seemed built to handle a lot more traffic than it was now getting. There were some tiimes when our side of the highway was closed and we had to drive in the opposite lane. We saw rockslides on the side of the road as we passed through the rocky mountains. As we entered Udaipur, we started to see streets bedecked in garland for Diwali. Crystal chandeliers hung over the streets from impromptu bamboo and PVC scaffolding. Streetside vendors sold mountains of marigolds. Red, white, and blue fabric scarves were draped radiating outwards from a utility pole evoking the image of a circus tent. There were booths selling fireworks on every street. Mukul would be staying with his good friends the Jain family in Udaipur while we would be treating ourselves at the Taj Lake Palace Hotel. Although we do not usually stay in incredibly fancy hotels, Mukul had stayed here before and told us it was something we should experience at least once in our lives. We had decided to splurge and spend the next two nights in this world-famous luxury hotel. The arrangement would work out well, we would get to experience an out-of-this-world hotel and Mukul would get to spend time with his friends for the holiday. Before checking in to the hotel, we stopped in town at the Jain family's pashmina store. We took off our shoes and entered the shop. They had just finished a puja when we arrived. They put tilaks and grains of rice on our foreheads, and tied colored cords onto our wrists. The family was very friendly. They had a 5-year-old boy named Golu and a toddler girl named Pari, both of whom were noticeably afraid of us. Both were all dressed up for Diwali. I looked around the beautiful merchandise and picked out a pink patterned silk scarf, which would match the outfit I was wearing for Diwali, as well as my pink bangle bracelets I had bought in Jodhpur. Craig picked out a shirt and they threw in a nice scarf at no charge. Since Diwali is a time for renewal (much like the New Year), they had started new log books, and we were their first customers (which seemed to bond us with their family). We thanked them for their hospitality and then got back to Rajendra and the car. we drove to Lake Pichola and had our first view of the shining white Lake Palace Hotel, seemingly floating on the surface of the blue water (it actually rests on a small island called Jag Niwas, but the island is not visible). The only way to reach the hotel is by boat, and there was a lot of security just to get near the dock. (Once again this was a Taj property, so the attention to security is understandable given the attacks that had recently been made on their Mumbai properties). The guards opened our hood and trunk, and wheeled a mirror under the vehicle. Once we were cleared, we drove up to the dock (which consisted of wrought iron gazebos and plush chairs in the shadow of the City Palace Museum) and got out of the car to check in. We were given our security card which would be necessary for taking the boat back and forth to the hotel. Since Mukul was not a registered guest, he was not allowed beyond the dock. We made plans to meet Mukul back here at the dock at 7:30 tonight, and then said our goodbyes. Our hand bags were searched and we had to pass through a metal detector. We rode in the boat with a lady from South Africa. Our boatman was wearing a navy blue beret and a uniform reminiscent of a French sailor suit. The City Palace on the lakeshore was shining in the golden late afternoon sunlight. A few minutes later we arrived at the hotel. It was a very short walk from the dock, but nonetheless, a uniformed doorman met us as we stepped off the boat and shaded us with a parasol as we walked across the marble patio to the door. Right from the get-go, they were treating us like royalty. It is a treatment that we are not used to, and to some degree it makes us a little uncomfortable. The contrast between rich and poor is so prominent in India that you can't help but reflect on the fact that while you are staying at some of the finest hotels in the world, there are people who don't have enough to eat. When you buy into luxury travel and accommodations, you cut yourself off from that reality in your own private oasis. We usually prefer to stay more grounded, which is why we only splurge like this for a night or two. We certainly don't take the accomodation and service for granted. The staff were making a colorful Diwali "carpet" on the marble patio with what looked like colored sand, and placing tea lights in it. They served us their house specialty drink (orange juice, rose water, and cardamom) while we sat in the elegant lobby and they summoned our butler. We have a butler? Apparently they come with the rooms. He led us across a lovely courtyard which boasted turquoise pools of water, green lawns, and meticulously groomed hedges. We came to another wing of the hotel and we were led down a corridor to room 243. The furniture was dark wood with lighter wood inlay. We had a king size four poster bed and a flat screen TV with DVD player. There was even a list of DVD's that we could borrow from the front desk (which included "Octopussy", the James Bond film which was filmed on premises). White painted crown molding adorned the ceiling, and the walls had hand painted murals of birds, trees, and flowers. A wooden lattice on the ceiling supported hanging glass light fixtures and a ceiling fan. There was a small complimentary bottle of wine and two apples set up on the table with a rose petal floating in a dish of water. The bathroom was floor to ceiling marble. The room came equipped with a sachet of power adapters, silk sleeves for the complimentary water bottles (to hide the "ugliness" of the water bottles), and even a pillow for the bathtub! We each got a pair of white terry cloth slippers and a bathrobe. There was a comfortable-looking chaise lounge, and the large windows were framed by gold brocade curtains. We wandered around to see the hotel and its surroundings in the late afternoon light. Then we sat in the room and enjoyed the red wine while looking out the window at the beautiful lake view. The hotel TV channel showed a program which traced the history of the hotel. It was the summer palace of the Maharana of Mewar dating back to the 18th century. Our room had already been turned down for the night. Little floor mats were placed on either side of the bed, with a pair of slippers on each. There was a wooden tray with a white linen doilie sitting on the bed. On it were two chocolates, an orchid, some hand lotion, and a card which read "O Magic Sleep! great key to golden palaces - Keats." Red and green silk rope tassles hung on the back of the door (much more classy than a traditional do not disturb placard). As the sun set, the color of our view progressed from blue to pink to black. The City Palace Museum and other hotels around the lake lit up with strands of white or blue Diwali lights which reflected upon the surface of the water. Diwali comemmorates the return of Lord Rama after a 14 year exile and the vanquishing of demon king Ravana. The people celebrated by lighting of small clay lamps called diyas and lighting off firecrackers. Modern-day Diwali seems like like Christmas, New Year’s, and Fourth of July all rolled into one. Homes and businesses are decorated with garland and strings of lights. People wear their best clothing and jewelry and buy gifts for one another. People line up at confectioners’ shops to buy sweets. And EVERYBODY lights off fireworks. The hotel was having entertainment (Rajasthani folk musicians and dancers) starting at 7 o'clock, and would be having fireworks afterwards. It was certainly something we would have attended had we not been invited to the Jains' house, but the opportunity to get to be included in a family's traditional Diwali celebration was a once-in-a-lifetime chance. So at 7:15 we headed to the dock, passing the tea lights on the Diwali carpet. We took the boat and left behind the Lake Palace Hotel shining on the water. We met Mukul and Mr. Jain at the dock. Mr. Jain drove us through the city to see the garland and all of the Diwali lights. People were out and about, and we even saw kids on a Ferris wheel. Firecrackers were going off everywhere. After driving through town we arrived at the Jain household. We greeted Mr. and Mrs. Jain, their two daughters, their son and his wife, 5-year-old Golu, and his toddler sister Pari. Golu and Pari were still rather skeptical about us large foreigners, but they took to Mukul straightaway. The family convinced Golu to show us his assortment of fireworks for the night, and this quickly broke the ice. Golu's eyes got wider and wider as he piled up various packages of fireworks on the couch next to us. We "oohhed" and "ahhhed" sufficiently for Golu. He whispered to Mukul that he had even more fireworks, and scurried off to retrieve another bag which he dumped out on the couch. The men decided that it was time to head outside to light some fireworks. Golu's father lit a sparkler for him, Golu waved it through the air as if he was using it as a paintbrush. One of the men lit off what turned out to be a fountain of orange sparks. Loud firecrackers punctured the night. Golu was beside himself with excitement. He would grab passersby who came by the house and lead them immediately to his fireworks stash to show off. He was so overwhelmed and excited that once a firework was lit it didn’t really even keep his attention - he would run back into the house to choose the next one to light. We were called inside to dinner. One of the Jain daughters is an artist, and she had some lovely artwork displayed in the dining room. The women of the household prepared and served a lovely meal of potatoes, bottle gourd, lentils, poori, and rice. Mrs. Jain refused to eat until everyone else had been fed. We were still a bit uncomfortable being served to this extent. We wished that she would have joined us for the meal, but it seems to be traditional that the women (and especially the matriarch) eat last. Everything was spiced to perfection. It was unlike any Indian food we had ever had in the USA, spiced for an Indian palate rather than an American one. We loved every bite. Just when we thought we had stuffed ourselves to the bursting point, we were given plates full of deliciously decadent home-made Diwali sweets. It was all so delicious. After that fantastic meal we went into the guest room (which, per tradition, faces east) and had a Diwali puja. They showed us their altar with representations of Hindu gods. They had hung marigolds. Mr. Jain explained the significance of the various iconography and rituals: Ganesh was hung over the doors as a gatekeeper, and Lakshmi brings prosperity. Swastikas were painted on the wall. In our western minds these are equated with the Nazis, who appropriated this ancient symbol of auspiciousness. We can't help but to see it through that lens at first, even though we know that it is the antithesis of its true meaning in the East. The Jains played a CD on a small portable stereo and chanted along with it. They put a tilak and rice grains onto our foreheads. They tied a colored cord around our wrists (my left and Craig’s right). They burned a leaf on a tray and we all took a turn moving the tray in a clockwise circle 3 times as everyone chanted. Mr. Jain put tilaks on all of the gods depicted within the room and stuck food on their mouths as offerings. We left at around 10 o’clock, after thanking the Jain family for kindly opening up their house and family to us. We also said goodnight to Mukul, who would be spending the night at the house. The Jains' son, his wife, and the two children drove us back to the lake so that they would get a chance to see the Diwali lights in town. By now Golu was so comfortable with us that he climbed onto Craig's lap on the back seat of the car. When we reached the dock, we could see the hotel shining white on the lake. We said our thank yous and goodbyes, and took the boat back to the hotel along with an Australian couple who had also spent Diwali in town. When we returned to our room, we found an assortment of Diwali sweets garnished with a rose petal on our table. We got drinks from the minibar (a Mirinda orange soda for me and a Kingfisher beer for Craig) and headed outside to the patio. We relaxed in a marble gazebo, watching fireworks from across the lake. It was a nice relaxing ending to a a busy, fun day. We were enjoying ourselves and wanting to stay up, but we knew we needed to be up early again tomorrow. We went to bed at 12:30. View Larger Map |
                 
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