Jaipur
India
Jaipur is known as the Pink City, even though it's more of a peach/salmon color. In 1876, the Maharaja (state ruler) ordered most buildings and monuments to be painted pink as a mark of hospitality to Prince Albert (later King Edward VII) on his visit to the subcontinent. Outside of a few main roads, I can't say the pink colour was overwhelming, although a few buildings here and there still retained the peachy hue.
Like most places we had visited in India, Jaipur was a dilapidated, rubbish-filled, dusty city. Horn intensity had reached a new level, and hecticness was at an all time high. Former city gates, imposing in size and painted the renowned salmon colour, separated new from old Jaipur and were often a source of traffic jams. Pedestrians fought for limited sidewalk space, causing most to walk on the roads amid a barrage of beeps and near misses. Navigating through the city wasn't exactly a peaceful affair.
Day one was all about the northern forts and palaces. I made the long walk up to the one furthest away, Amber Palace, stopping on the way at Jal Mahal (aka the Water Palace) and Panna Meena Stepwell. Jal Mahal was built at the bottom of a dried-up lake in 1699. Once the rains returned and filled the lake, it gave the effect of the palace floating on the water. With the sun sitting directly behind it, the palace was cast into shadow and I couldn't attest to its splendour (views from above later on were slightly more breathtaking). On the other hand, the 16th-century Panna Meena Stepwell was fantastic, its stairs creating geometric patterns that dazzled in the sunlight. I wasn't allowed to venture down to the bottom, but a temple backdrop and a site free of rubbish made it one of the more impressive stepwells I had visited.
On my way to Amber Palace, I was fortunate enough to catch a view of the building sitting in front of a man-made lake. The early morning sun was reflecting the palace's golden (or perhaps amber??) facade directly into the water below. It was a beautiful sight that I would have missed if I had been driven to the entrance like everyone else.
From the main road there was an uphill walk to reach the entrance. This was where I caught sight of elephants for the first time in India, which wasn’t a happy affair. Dressed up in colourful garb and their faces decorated with paint, the elephants carried tourist after tourist up the rocky path to the ticket office. Despite clear signs stating it was only a 10-minute walk, loads of visitors took advantage of the poor animals. It was a lowlight of my day.
Amber Palace, built in the 16th century from yellow and pink sandstone as well as marble, was one of the most striking sights I had seen in India. The royal family lived here until 1727, when their residence was moved to central Jaipur. Given the entrance fee was almost identical to the Taj Mahal, I was expecting big things. (I ended up buying a Composite Ticket, which allowed me entry into 10 sites across Jaipur. Only 4 were on my must-see list, but it was still better value in the long run.)
Thousands of tourists had flocked the venue, meaning I never had a moment to myself. Most of the main sights revolved around courtyards, offering picturesque shots of impressive architecture blocked by hordes of people. From the painted gate to the main temple (no photos permitted), the hammam to the royal apartments, there were photoworthy opportunities at every turn. Dozens of couples were taking advantage of this by having professional pre-wedding photos taken, a slight annoyance to us other visitors. A cooling system had been ingeniously created back in the day utilising evaporation, where cool winds were blown over a water cascade that was then circulated along pipes through the palace. I'm sure it would have needed it through the summer months, but not so much in January.
Undoubtedly, the highlight was the Sheesh Mahal (Mirror Palace), swamped with every man, woman and child trying to capture the perfect photo. Tiny reflective pieces of glass and coloured stones had been set into the walls and ceilings in a floral design, lighting up the space when the sunlight hit them at the perfect angle. It was a phenomenal space - the photos don’t do it justice.
Stairs led up and down the various sections in a maze-like fashion, which guided me to the exit sooner than I anticipated. Retracing my steps, I walked back and forth between the main courtyards, searching for any sections I had missed. I found a couple of extra rooms I hadn't spotted earlier, but overall the site was considerably smaller than it appeared from the outside. While there didn't seem to be as much on offer as other palaces I had visited, its grandeur was second to none.
On the way out of Amber Palace I spotted a sign that read 'Tunnel to Jaigarh Fort'. This was the next destination on my itinerary, and it sounded better than trudging down a road the long way around. The tunnel was formally a secret passage connecting the palace to the fort, to be used as an escape route if needed. Now it allowed tourists to travel between the sites, although I saw almost no one else along the way. Even though the 2 attractions were connected, they required separate entrance tickets. This was infuriating, as I just had paid for an expensive multi-site ticket at Amber Palace that you think would be valid here. Nope.
In complete contrast to Amber Palace, the 18th-century Jaigarh Fort was almost devoid of tourists. I virtually had the place to myself. It was a much larger, more expansive site, but most of what I saw was wide, empty, concrete courtyards. Disappointingly, entry was forbidden to the most impressive courtyard, which contained manicured gardens, a large archway and muraled pavilion. Walking along the fort walls was permitted around most of the site, providing views back down to Amber Palace and the hills beyond.
Near the entrance was a small photography exhibition of local Indians I knew nothing about, as well as an armoury section. There was also an underground water storage system I could explore, which didn't rival any stepwell I had seen but was still eye-catching. A lot of fuss was made about a gigantic cannon that looked like it had been made thousands of years ago - I honestly don't know how it managed to fire anything. When it was built it was the largest cannon ever to be constructed on wheels, although it was never used in battle (not surprising, by the look of it). In the end there wasn't much that grabbed my attention, but I did enjoy its grand size and relative emptiness.
It was a 6 km walk down an undulating ridgeline from Jaigarh Fort to Nahargarh Fort. On the way I passed several viewpoints out over Jal Mahal (Water Palace), where the sun was in a better position but I was now many kilometres away. Nahargarh Fort (part of my Composite Ticket) felt very much like a tourist village, consisting of numerous restaurants and souvenir stores. A stepwell with curved steps was located just inside the entrance, the first time I had seen this style in a stepwell. Meandering along one path I discovered Sunset Point, which showed me nothing more than a hazy view of the city below. Although it's called the Pink City, it was definitely not pink gazing down at the buildings from above.
The main sight here was the Shri Madhvendra Bhawan, a series of 10 interconnected apartments. One apartment belonged to the Maharaja, while the other 9 were for his concubines. Each of the 2-storey apartments were almost identical, painted pale yellow and adorned with floral motifs, broad archways, a fireplace and dark wooden doors. Stairs led up to a rooftop, which provided murky views of Jaipur in all directions. Again the pre-wedding shoots dominated the space, making it difficult at times to take photos of the incredible architecture.
I was contemplating visiting the Palace of Mirrors within the fort, but when I learnt that it was part of a wax museum of famous Indians I had never heard of, and that I had to pay for another expensive entrance ticket, I decided to give it a miss. Instead I followed a steep path down the mountain, bypassing another curved stepwell, one of the largest I had seen so far. As I descended, the views of the city became marginally clearer, allowing me to observe hundreds of kites flying high above the buildings. It was nice to see such a simple outdoor activity continue to be popular in this technology era.
Day 2 saw me heading out east, walking through the quiet, early morning streets where the only people about were street sweepers. I eventually hit a hill lined with monkeys and cows that led up to the Sun Temple. I was asked several times if I wanted a 'monkey master' to help ward off the macaques, but I felt confident that I could brave the animals alone. Dedicated to Lord Surya (the Sun God), the Sun Temple wasn't much to look at. It was a tiny space, only a few steps from one end to the other. On one side were a couple of creepy-looking idols draped in flowers, while a nearby priest chanted from a religious text. The highlight was the view over the city, which would have been spectacular if the air had been clear.
Down the other side of the hill was my favourite attraction in all of Jaipur: Galta Ji, aka Monkey Temple. Set in a hazy valley surrounded by tall mountains, Galta Ji was a sprawling site consisting of several pale yellow temples with faded green and red decorative motifs. Everywhere I went, someone wanted to give me a blessing (for a donation, of course). A small pond was situated at one end, creating a crystal clear reflection of a golden temple on the surface below. I couldn't believe the site wasn't crowded, given it was free (a rarity) and extremely picturesque.
Although the buildings and mountain setting were stunning, it was the macaques that made the place memorable. There were hundreds of them, roaming the site in packs and sporadically taking on unsuspecting tourists. At one point a baby monkey leapt onto my shoe; another tried to grab a woman's scarf. Danny witnessed a series of 3 monkeys repeatedly jump on a man's backpack, resulting in an untold amount of panic. Maybe those monkey masters weren't entirely a tourist trap. I was completely enthralled by the animals, watching them groom and fight each other, crawl across railings only a metre in front of me and leap between various structures. At times they all marched out of the venue en masse, only to return a few minutes later. If I didn’t have a lengthy to-do list, I could have spent hours observing them.
To get more value out of my pre-purchased Composite Ticket, I walked over to Sisodia Rani Ka Bagh, a palace and garden complex I hadn't heard of before arriving in Jaipur. It was constructed in 1728 by the Maharaja as a symbol of love for his second queen. Entry was forbidden into the compact, narrow palace, but the manicured, symmetrical gardens filled a good chunk of my time. It was a shame the numerous fountains and ponds were all empty, as the vast grounds would have looked magnificent. Palm trees lined the perimeter, pavilions ran down the centre and murals depicting the life of Lord Krishna were painted along the outer walls. The palace itself was decorated with floral designs both inside and out (I could peek through the windows). It was a beautiful setting, and it wasn't surprising there were again numerous pre-wedding shoots taking place.
Just down the road from Sisodia Rani Ka Bagh was Vidhyadhar Bagh, a series of gardens created in 1988. This was another site I wasn't aware of until I discovered it was part of the Composite Ticket. Clearly it wasn't considered a highlight of Jaipur, as I found myself alone most of the time. It consisted of a linear park split into 2 sections. The first contained an empty stepwell, empty fountains and an empty upscale restaurant. The second part was much larger, comprising terraced lawns, pavilions, a couple of tiny palaces and a stepwell filled with algal green water. Being right on a main road meant it wasn't the most peaceful site going around, nor was it the most picturesque. I was glad I hadn't spent any extra money to come here.
It was another long walk along deafening, congested roads to return to the old town again. My first stop here was Hawa Mahal, an orange and pale yellow sandstone palace with white decorative trim, built in 1799 by the grandson of the founder of the city. It is also known as the Palace of the Winds due to it having 953 windows that allow cool air to flow through the building. Hundreds of visitors had crowded into the compact site; it took an eternity to move anywhere. The palace consisted of several storeys and was centred around countless courtyards. Most of the time I didn't know where I was or where I had already been. A few rooms encompassed stained-glass detail in the walls, using primary colours in simple geometric shapes. Latticework covered most of the windows, which originally allowed royal women to observe daily life or festivities without being seen themselves. Each time I climbed another level, I was given higher views over the building and, eventually, out over Jaipur. There was no doubt it was a majestic building and I loved exploring the various courtyards, but fewer tourists would have made the experience far more enjoyable.
I definitely wouldn't have visited Isarlat Sargasouli if it wasn't on the Composite Ticket. The 7-storey octagonal tower was, at one stage, the tallest building in Jaipur. Built in 1749, the Victory Tower was constructed to commemorate the Maharaja's triumph over his half brother in a battle for the throne of Jaipur. A bumpy ramp spiralled up the narrow interior all the way to the top, where there were 360-degree views of the city. While nearby buildings were visible, those further away disappeared into the thick smog. It was worth 5 minutes of my time, but it wasn't something I would have paid for separately.
Jantar Mantar is a collection of 19 astronomical instruments spread out over an outdoor park. Built in the 18th century by the ruler of Jaipur at the time, they were constructed using sandstone and marble to more accurately calculate time, predict weather and record the position of celestial bodies. The most famous instrument here is the world's largest stone sundial, measuring 27 metres high. Incredibly, the shadows can tell you the current time with an accuracy of 2 seconds. Combining aesthetics and function, it was a fascinating and educational site to walk through. By eavesdropping on a guided tour group, I learnt how to read the exact time on one of the smaller sundials, which I found quite mind-blowing. I had no idea how most of the instruments worked (the information signs were far too technical for me to understand), but they looked impressive nonetheless.
My final stop in Jaipur was the City Palace, requiring a separate, overpriced ticket to the Composite Ticket. It is the current residence for the Jaipur royal family, ruled by a 26-year-old Maharaja (he was only 12 when he became head of the family). Rajput rulers left Amer (where the Amber Palace is located) and established the city of Jaipur in 1727 due to the increasing population and declining water availability. The City Palace was built soon after their arrival. By this stage I was a bit palaced out, so I don't think I took the time to fully appreciate this prominent site.
I wandered through various courtyards and museums, bypassing the expensive restaurants and souvenir stores/artist workshops. There was a mishmash of architectural styles, and each section appeared distinct from the rest. One courtyard in particular was jaw-dropping, consisting of four smaller gates that were intricately decorated with individual themes, such as peacocks or lotuses. Clearly some areas had been restored and modernised over the years, displaying bold colours that didn’t flow with the general theme of the palace. Nothing in the museums captured my attention, not even the modern art exhibition, which seemed incongruous with the rest of the site. Several areas were only accessible with an ultra-expensive ticket, which I was not prepared to pay for. Overall the City Palace was interesting, but it wasn’t my favourite attraction in Jaipur.
While most of the sites had been first class and I was glad to have explored Jaipur, I wasn't sorry to be leaving the loud, frantic, expensive city behind.
