Prior to leaving Bikaner for our camel safari, we enjoyed another sunny day exploring the crowded, narrow streets of the old city. Most of the old city reminds me of movies I have seen of medieval towns and I keep expecting to see someone open an upstairs window & throw out the slops. Instead, they usually j ust open the doorway to toss out the washing water and pee straight into the open sewers on the side of the road.

For a change, we thought we would visit the only luxury hotel in the old city and have tea in their garden. We had a bit of trouble finding the place as it is hidden away behind crumbling walls and even the rickshaw driver we hired had to ask directions three times. Instead of a large sign, there are 2 antique cars from the 30's in the entrance way of the Bhanwar Niwas. These belonged to the first owner, a rich merchant who built it as his home . The family still occupy the third floor of the building, but the rest has been converted into a luxurious hotel with huge rooms clustered around a 30 ft square courtyard. The management was only too pleased to show us several rooms as there were no overnight guests at the time. Each one was different, some with gilt painted walls, some with Italian tiles, but all were furnished with family heirlooms and several contained display cases of rare figurines and sculptures. Despite the richness of the rooms, I found the atmosphere much colder than the smaller Bhairon Vilas we visited the day before. After tea, we picked up a non-guide, a 15 year old, who despite being told we were not paying him, led us through the twisting alleyways to the local spice market, where the smells emanating from the open sacks are wonderful and varied. I ended up buying small packages of saffron, which are supposed to be a bargain. Our friend Billij insisted on showing us the famous Jain temple, which is open to the public. The Jains are a very ascetic sect, but their temples are the most richly decorated of all the religions. This one was built in the 16th C by a local merchant and has three stories, each with its own Buddha, and windows opening to all four sides with great views over the city. There was not one inch left without a brightly coloured painting depicting stories on all the interior walls. There was a Hindu temple right next door, but all we were permitted to see was the closed silver doors as only Hindus are allowed inside. They were even upset at my attempt to photograph the closed doors. Oh well.

Yes, we survived our first Camel Safari, although we didn't expect to enjoy a thunder and lightening storm in the desert and end up taking shelter from the rain under a camel cart. Sunday started innocuously enough as Ray & I, our guide Ganesh and the Safari manager, Vinod, were driven by jeep into the desert country south of Bikaner to a small family farm where we met the family and admired the artwork decorating the buildings. Most of the women wore a wide skirt topped by a short sleeved tunic and topped by a long, almost transparent scarf, which they kept over their head and face. Men, other than their own family members, are not allowed to see them. The compound was surrounded by six foot mud walls covered with chevron patterns the women make by holding their baby fingers together in a V and pressing into the wet clay and dung mixture. The houses in the compound were also built from mud and dung and arranged around an open courtyard, containing a fire pit for cooking. The courtyard itself was bordered with painted scallops and the center of the courtyard was painted in an intricate white and red design, making a lovely outdoor carpet. This is where we said goodbye to Vinod and got on our camel cart with the camel drivers, Amrat and Bhaji, and rode 10 minutes to another family compound to pick up our riding camel.

Since Ray & I were the only two people for the Safari, we were provided with one riding camel and one camel pulling a cart with our belongings. We named the riding camel Hari, because he was a cute, docile 3 year old. The 9 year old camel pulling the cart was christened Oscar, because he was older, fatter, lazier and somewhat cranky (remember the Odd Couple?). The beauty of this arrangement is that you take turns riding the camel and then take a break and travel in relative ease on the cart. I am told we actually had dromedaries, with one-hump. The camel saddle had a small backrest, like a western saddle, that fit behind the camel's hump. We sat behind the hump on a cloth blanket and a quilt, which we folded double for more padding, with our legs dangling over the sides. Like riding an elephant, you have to go with the roll ing motion of the animal. Bhaji rode on the camel cart holding the leads for the riding camel, so we never had to worry about the camel wandering off. In fact, we were glad that Oscar, pulling the cart and setting the pace, was rather lazy as it was more comfortable riding a slow moving beast. Ray was quite taken with the design of the camel cart. It was very sturdy and well made and was decorated with borders of inlaid silver coloured metal in the favourite chevron design.

The desert we rode through was not really wilderness as it was dotted with family farms, consisting of several small round mud huts, and scattered throughout were people herding cattle and working in the fields. The land was quite flat and it wasn't until later the first day that we encountered any sand dunes. Even then the sand dunes were not extensive, so they cannot be compared to visions of the Sahara. In contrast to the cities and towns, the absence of garbage, the clean air, the quietness, and no other tourists at all, was welcome. Vinod varies his routes so that the villagers don't get used to being a sideshow and consequently, they are just as interested in us as we are in them. We flushed out many antelopes from their shelters under the trees and bushes. They are protected and so are almost tame. When we stop ped for lunch, they came up quite close before darting off again, probably waiting for us to leave their favourite resting spot. There were birds everywhere. We didn't have a bird book, but I could identify the vultures, hawks, sand quail and several sparrow types. In many of the fields, the people were harvesting cattle fodder from small bushes. They cut the bushes, beat the leaves off onto sheets and stuffed the leaves into sacks to bring to the market, where they sell it for Rs 4 per Kg. The dead branches become natural fences around the fields and the red berries produced by the plants are a favourite snack. We were given several to try and decided they had a consistency of a dried apple peel, except the pit was the largest part of the fruit and they were a little on the tart side.

We stopped for lunch the first day at an abandoned farm house that provided shelter for a cook fire and shade for us. Lunch was chapatis and a vegetable curry mixture. Our guide, Ganesh, claims that the best flavour for the chapatis comes from wood and cow dung, which Bhaji collected for us be fore lunch. He claims propane or kerosene destroys the flavour. He insisted on giving me the receipe for the curry, so here it is. Of course, he doesn't consider this to be particularly spicy and would add lots more chillies for himself. He cooked potatoes and onions for us, but he says any combination of vegetables would work.

Potato Masala

Masala mixture:
1 spoon chilli powder
1 spoon turmeric
7 spoons coriander
1 1/2 spoons salt (or to taste)
1/2 Kg cleaned, unpeeled potatoes, cut up
4 - 5 small red onions, cut up
some cumin seed
a few garlic cloves, cut up

Put a little oil in an iron pot over the fire and heat. Add cumin seed & garlic and half cook (do not burn). Add a little water to masala mixture in a cup and pour into garlic oil & heat a little. Add potatoes and enough water to half cover the potatoes. Cook until potatoes are soft, then add raw onions and serve with chapatis.

It clouded over in the afternoon, which I thought was just as well, since the sun can be pretty hot. We rode through one village and stopped at the communal water tank to water the camels and get drinking water for Ganesh and the camel drivers. Ray & I were provided with lots of bottled water. There were several other camel carts with huge metal boxes at the tank and their drivers were hand filling them from the water tank. The farms do not have individual wells. Instead, they each have concrete tanks sunk into the ground to collect and store water during the July rains. When that runs out, they must travel to the communal water supplies to replenish. Out of town again, we made one more stop at a family compound to buy milk. This took a little longer than we expected as they had to go catch a cow and milk it. By this time the sun was going down, so it was dark whe n we found our campsite in a sand dune. The camels were unhitched and tied to a nearby bush where they enjoyed a large sack of those yummy leaves. Supper was cooked and eaten in the dark, so Ray & I made good use out of our flashlights, as there were no other lights provided. Our dinner came on a communal round tray with rice and dahl (lentils) in small bowls. You are supposed to eat everything with your hands, but since Ray & I are inept, we used the spoons provided. After dinner, the dishes are washed using the desert sand as an abrasive to scrub off the grease and soot from the fire, then rinsed out with water. It works.

Ganesh prepared our bed site for us next to the camel cart. He hollowed out a rectangle big enough for the two of us, lined it with a blanket, and covered it with two quilts. Amrat and Bhaji snuggled down under the cart and Ganesh made himself a bed at the edge of the cart. Soon after we all retired, it started to rain softly, then stopped. This happened about three times, then let up. I pulled the top quilt up over my head and stayed dry enough, although I found it hard to get comfortable in the sand. It is not the softest surface to sleep on. Sometime after midnight it began to rain again, but not hard enough to penetrate be l ow the top quilt. Finally, the thunder we had heard in the distance came in closer and we were treated to a thunder and lighting show. With that, Ganesh got up and started removing the sides of the camel cart to make a larger roof area and to put his own bedroll underneath. When Ray said we were getting wet, Ganesh threw a third quilt over us. Ray was not pleased as we were not cold and it was still raining and it was starting to soak through. It was at this point that Ganesh confessed that he had left his bedroll, including a large plastic sheet, in Bikaner. His timing could have been better. We decided we had had enough rain out in the open, so we announced we were joining everyone under the cart. It was a bit of a squish, and it leaked a bit over us, but we stayed dry.

Not the best night, so nobody was very quick to get up in the morning. At least that was the end of the rain. The morning skies were clear and remained that way. Looking at the sand, Ganesh estimated it had only soaked through 2 cm , but that was enough to wet all the quilts and blankets. They had to be dried in the sun before we took off in the morning and then taken out again at our lunch spot. The riding on Monday was similar to the day before. Whenever we passed through villages or stopped for lunch, we attracted the attention of the local people and the children who came to visit and to say hello. They were curious but shy and very polite, and we didn't encounter any begging. It was dark again by the time we stopped for the night at another sand dune. This time we put an extra quilt under us and I used the small foam pads we carry with us for such emergencies and I was quite comfortable and slept well. Being tired helps as well. It was still eerie waking up in the middle of the night to see the shadows of the camels sitting peacefully in the dark.

The last day we stopped in a village and visited a band of gypsies camped at a crossroads. We wanted to take pictures of the men mending tin pots, but they demanded payment, which Ganesh refused to pay. Another man agreed to be photographed, so Ganesh snapped his picture for us, but then he changed his mind and wanted rupees. Ganesh promised to send him a copy of the picture, so we will have to remember to forward some when we return home. After lunch, we went with Amrat and Ganesh across some desert fields to a farmhouse to buy lentil seed. The family invited us in to see how they the extended family of one elder father, his three sons and their wives and children lived. All very compact and communal, but Ganesh was not successful buying seed as they wanted more than the current market price. We had less than an hour's ride that afternoon before reaching a small town on the main road and the end of our camel safari. We caught a local bus for the short trip back to Bikaner and Vinod's house. I think the most memorable aspects for us were visiting the villages and family compounds and seeing how the desert people live. It was very relaxing and a good change from visiting forts and palaces.

Vinod was entertaining two young girls, one Australian, one from Merrickville, near Ottawa, and giving them a sales pitch for his Safari. We all had supper and the girls returned to their guesthouse to pack up and take a Safari the next morning. We were staying the night at Vinod's. The next morning, shortly after the girls returned, another young lady came into the room. I looked at her and asked if we had met before, but she said she didn't think so. She was catching a ride to see the famous Rat Temple near by and was putting off a Camel Safari until her seat healed from bareback riding a horse a few days before. She started talking to the girls and mentioned she was from Canberra, Australia. I finally realized she was Penny, the elder daughter of Jill and Brian Jones, the Australian family who rented the house next door to us in Ottawa nearly 3 years ago. She was shocked, but did remember us and was thrilled when I showed her a photo of Ray in front of our house, shovelling snow after the ice storm when they still lived there. What a small world it is. Anyway, after talking to us, Penny made a snap decision to join the 2 girls on their Safari. I hope it worked out well. We left them to catch the bus to Jaisalmer.

The bus ride was boring, but made less so by talking to several Indian people on the bus. Once again we were the only Westerners, so anyone who speaks some English uses us to practice. Ray chatted to one young English teacher, returning to his school after an end of term holiday. After he left, the young man sitting in front of us insisted on sharing part of his lunch with us and chatting. He asked if we would send him a postcard from home, so we exchanged addresses.

The arrival at the bus stop in Jaisalmer was the worst yet. We were absolutely besieged with offers of rickshaws and advice for multiple different guesthouses, especially as we were the only business in sight. We ended up sharing a rickshaw with 2 other westerners who had ridden out to the bus expecting to meet friends. We agreed to stay in a small guesthouse in the town area below the fort. Quite inexpensive, but you get what you pay for. We did have a nice room, but had to fight for blankets and hot water. The management was very pleasant but can't deliver all that they promise, but we are too lazy to switch. Fortunately, we are enjoying Jaisalmer and much to our surprise, we are not being hassled by the sidewalk merchants and non-guides. They are all being very friendly and taking 'no' for an answer. This is the most popular place to take camel safaris, but we have done that, so we resisted all sales pitches with clear consciences.

Thursday morning we walked through the streets of the golden fort, built of yellow sandstone in 1156 on a ridge overlooking the desert. It is not a museum, but is the home for about 1/2 of Jaisalmer's population. You can stay in guesthouses within the fort walls and visit the still operating and beautiful Jain & Hindu temples. Much restoration is taking place and the streets are surprisingly free of rubbish. We walked up to the rooftop of one building at the invitation of the owner to admire the view. Of course, he would have been more pleased if we had bought one of the miniature paintings they paint and sell there, but there was no hard sell. In the afternoon we wandered around the town outside the fort gates to view the havelis. These houses were built of sandstone by local luminaries 300 - 400 years ago and sport richly carved balconies on every window. In front of the Patwon ki Haveli, there was a large crowd of people. We realized as we got closer that there was a f ilm crew on site and that some Indian stars were causing great excitement amongst all the school children clustered about. We paid our Rs 5 to enter the havelis and climb to the upper floors where we had a good view of the filming. Apparently it was a music video and from the looks of it, funded by the Jaisalmer Tourist association. The havelis were interesting too with carvings on every available surface, and bats hanging in the dark recesses of some of the stairwells. We avoided those stairs. We finally tore ourselves away from the filming and went to visit the Nathmal ki Haveli, a few blocks away. The great-great grandson of the builder, a prime minister 300 years ago, showed us around. Some of the rooms were covered in murals and the outside was the same intricately carved sandstone. The family now operate a small shop with textiles and other very nice handicrafts. There were beautiful hand embroidered woolen scarves, that had I thought I might wear, I would have bought. Instead, I purchased a small length of hand printed cotton that may end up as a vest when I get back home. If you can't carry very much, you don't buy very much.

That night we went to the recommended Trio restaurant for dinner. This, like the other restaurants in Jaisalmer, mostly on rooftops to take advantage of the views, served excellent food at reasonable prices. The extra at the Trio was the Rajastani traditional music and dancing performed by 4 men and a young boy.

Saturday we walked just out of town to visit the Gadi Sagar, a man-made lake, or tank built centuries ago and used as the main water source for Jaisalmer until a canal system was built to replace this chancy source. The surrounding temples a nd pavillions were very pretty, but the little water remaining was green and putrid looking. We wandered around for a while and then watched the same film crew as yesterday set up for their next shoot at the lake, but we didn't wait for the actual filming this time. Instead we visited the Folkloric Museum and Cultural center nearby. These are the personal projects of a local teacher to try to preserve knowledge of the local handicrafts and history of the desert peoples. It was a small but interesting collection. On our way back to town we visited the last haveli of note, the Moti Mahal or Salem Singh ki Haveli, built a powerful prime minister 400 years ago. Included with the Rs 15 admission was a guide who provided us with more information about the construction and decorations than we ever really wanted to know. We kindly said goodbye and went on with our life.

Well, it time to move on again, so we have booked seats on the bus to Jodhpur tomorrow morning. More forts coming up. Rajasthan is full of them. Wish us well.

Our Camel Safari supplier was www.vinodesertsafari.com