Bundi
India
Bundi felt well and truly off the tourist trail. Not only due to the relative absence of other travellers, but also the lack of trying to make anything look pretty or clean. Pastel-coloured buildings seemed ready to crumble to the earth ('old world charm' they called it) while rubbish was strewn about in all directions. Every kid in town would say hello, stare intensely or ask for money - we felt like a bit of a novelty. Cows and macaques ruled the roads, with a scattering of dogs, goats, pigs, langurs, buffaloes, chickens and guinea fowl thrown in for good measure.
The old town, consisting of quiet, narrow, twisting lanes, was a place where time stood still. Bundi Palace and Taragarh Fort stood proudly on the side of a mountain overlooking the town, providing photo opportunities from multiple locations. The region outside the city walls felt like one giant, chaotic street market, selling all manner of goods from fresh food to clothing to household items. It was just as hectic as anywhere else we had visited. The blessing of being a non-touristic city meant that we had most of the attractions completely to ourselves, a rarity in India.
One reason I wanted to visit Bundi was that it is famous for stepwells, ancient water storage structures used for drinking, cooling, farming and spiritual rituals. Over the last 500 years more than 100 stepwells were built in Bundi, but now approximately 50 remain. Only a handful were open to the public. I love the symmetrical geometric shapes formed by the stairs leading down into the wells, so I was looking forward to seeing a range of designs while I was here.
It didn't live up to the hype. Apart from the most popular stepwell, Raniji Ki, the others had been left to go stagnant and had become a rubbish tip (much like the rest of town). It was a shame, as they would have looked spectacular with a little care. First stop, Bhawaldi, was locked, but through the gate we could see a beautiful coloured archway sitting over the steps leading down to the water. Next up, Nagar and Sagar, were twin stepwells on opposite sides of a road, filled with a toxic-looking green liquid dotted with plastic trash. Dhabhai Kund we wouldn't have found without local help. It was in an okay condition but the power station in the background wasn't exactly picturesque. Bhoraji Ka was the largest we saw and almost clean, but lacked the crisscross staircases that make stepwells so photogenic. We passed several others on our travels, but they were all behind fastened gates with no way to view their interior.
The clear winner was Raniji Ki, the only stepwell we had to pay to enter (and it was worth it). Descending a set of stairs, we were led down to what looked like an old, underground railway station. This was the first covered stepwell we had visited in India. Through a set of decorative pillars topped with elephants, we gazed at a still body of murky water stretching out before us. Apparently the stepwell is 46 metres deep, but the water prevented us from seeing all the way to the bottom. Sculptures of gods and goddesses lined the sides, while a stone archway stood at the far end. The dark reflection on the water's surface created an imposing, sombre ambience that could have formed part of a movie set. It wasn't your typical stepwell, but it was stunningly beautiful.
Slightly out of town was the 84-Pillared Cenotaph, a 17th-century sandstone structure built by the ruler of Bundi at the time. There are debating theories about why he constructed the cenotaph: some say it was a memorial to his foster brother, others claim it was in honour of his wet nurse. Either way, it was an impressive monument, and whoever it was in memory of would be happy with the sentiment.
There are 2 main lakes in Bundi. Nawal Sagar, an artificial lake in the old town containing a partially submerged temple, offered another view of the palace and fort on the hill. Jait Sagar Lake, slightly north of town, was created in the 14th century as a water reservoir and place for relaxation. On its south side lies Sukh Mahal, an 18th-century summer palace that is renowned for being the place where Rudyard Kipling stayed for a couple of days in 1892. While here, it is said, he drew inspiration for, and began writing, his well-known book Kim. We were expecting big things, but what we found was a very small, narrow, 2-story building, painted pale yellow, with tranquil views out over the water. It had definitely seen better days. We were allowed inside a couple of rooms, one of which displayed a little information about Kipling and photos of his life. Off to the side was a tiny museum, containing paintings and photos of Bundi over the years. It was an interesting site to explore, but it didn't have the wow factor I was expecting after reading up on the site.
The following morning we made our way up to the main sights: Bundi Palace and Taragarh Fort. Infuriatingly, it was only after we purchased our full priced ticket that we were informed the fort was closed due to a tiger roaming the grounds (definitely not something you would come across in Australia). Apparently it had been there for 2 months, feeding on monkeys. There didn't seem to be any hurry to move it along. So that left us with the palace, which ended up being well worth exploring. It was the first time we had run into other tourists in Bundi, although it still felt like we had the place to ourselves.
Construction on the palace began in the 17th century and was added to by different rulers over the next 300 years. Nowadays, it is considered one of the largest palatial residences in India. Apparently it is connected to the fort by a secret passage, but sadly we didn’t have the chance to investigate this. Most of the palace, like the rest of Bundi, was a crumbling mess, but this only added to its allure.
Macaques roamed the exterior walls, causing us to stay well clear of that area. The lower levels consisted of a rabbit warren of rooms that weren’t on the marked trail, but they were open to explore. Most were filled with rubble and plants growing through the floor, as though slowly being reclaimed by nature. Clearly no effort had been made to restore this section since the royal family left in 1948.
Walking up the steep, rocky entranceway to the top levels, we entered the touristy part of the palace. The arched doorway was flanked by 2 stone elephants, which set the theme for the rest of the day. Helpful directional signs guided us around the expansive site, although annoyingly there was no information to tell us what we were looking at. We were guided in and out of a variety of stately rooms, courtyards and art galleries, with murals along the walls depicting daily life, hunting scenes and Hindu stories. In general, the building was in surprisingly good condition given its age. At the very top of the palace was a beautiful garden with another art gallery attached. The artworks, belonging to the Bundi school of art, are known for being colourful and incredibly detailed, which we could attest to. Overall, while it didn't have the polish or extravagance of other palaces we had visited, or any artefacts or displays other than the paintings, it was still a fascinating place to visit. The lack of crowds also added to its appeal.
After climbing up a path filled with thorns and kite string to an unofficial lookout over the town, we grabbed lunch at a rooftop cafe. Most rooftop cafes in town were closed in by cages to keep the monkeys out, which felt a bit like a reverse zoo. While waiting for our food, an extremely loud, very long procession came waltzing down the street. Loudspeakers blared nightclub-style music from cars and trucks, while hundreds of people followed behind. Most of the men wore white shirts with orange turbans, a common outfit in the Sikh community. Given the main float contained an idol that was being fanned by 2 men, we can only presume the parade had a religious significance. Whatever it was for, it was the only time we could ever call the old town of Bundi 'lively'.
Our ticket to Bundi Palace included entry to Kshar Bagh, a garden 4 km north of town containing cenotaphs of the royal family of Bundi from the 16th-19th centuries. While Danny was off doing one of his favourite activities (exploring the markets), I decided to take advantage of the free sight and see what the fuss was about. When I arrived, I was asked to sign in an entry book. I was the only person who had visited today (it was 3 p.m.). No one had visited yesterday. The guard at the entrance was keen to show me around, warning me of aggressive monkeys. Clearly he wasn't expecting anyone else to turn up.
I hadn't heard of Kshar Bagh in my research of Bundi, and it quickly became obvious why. The small garden was entirely overrun with weeds, and the cenotaphs had clearly been abandoned to the elements. Apparently there were 66 cenotaphs in total, but only a dozen or so still had standing pavilions - the rest were just empty platforms. The pavilions were adorned with beautiful elephant and horse carvings, which were the highlight of the site. It didn't take me long to walk around the tombs and be on the road again back to Bundi.
