This far west the sun lies in until about 7a.m. so it is just starting to show as we set out to find breakfast. The book recommends a hotel on the east side of the station, across the tracks from where we are, so we climb up the footbridge steps and head in that direction. Before we are all of the way across we run out of footbridge. We adopt the Indian solution of jumping down off the platform and walking across the tracks to the road. The hotel appears to be undergoing extension work but the door is open and the watchman confirms that the restaurant is open for breakfast. He shows us through to a pleasant verandah with tables and chairs where we take a seat and wait. And wait. At last somebody takes our order, then someone else does. Tea arrives, as do R's Aloo Paranthas (tattie scones) and very good they are too. D has made the mistake of ordering something exotic sounding, mughali parantha, which turns out to be a tattie scone wrapped in an omlet. Excellent when it arrived. No marks for speed of service here but the food and surroundings are good and we are in no hurry.
Set up for the day, we walked into town to find an auto and a cash machine. We soon spot an ATM and try our regular trick of requesting 9900. The machine regrets that there are no 100 notes and suggests 9,500. To our great surprise this is delivered entirely in five hundred notes, a bit of a rarity so far. Not as rare as advice slips, which have failed to appear at any of our ATM transactions. Our plan is to visit Chittor fort , which sits atop a bluff overlooking the town. The first auto we try offers a fare of 150. We are feeling generous this morning and accept. By the time he has driven through the town and up the zigzag climb to the ticket window we are beginning to see this ride as good value. We turn down the suggestion of a ten point tour by auto as we hope to get in a bit of birdwatching. With this in mind R has left her binos locked in the luggage. At the ticket window a couple of guides make a half hearted attempt to sell their services but we have a map and a bit of a write up with us so we politely decline. The fee at the desk is Rs 200 per foreigner so D passes over one of his newly acquired 500s. "Sorry sir. No change". The chap next in the queue is frantically waving a hundred note so D suggests that they desl with him first then they will have change, but that option is not acceptable to the men behind the counter. They will accept a card payment but have to faff around switching the terminal on, making the man behind rather cross.
The first site after the ticket window is an extensive set of ruins called the Rana Khumba Palace which we enter, closely followed by half a dozen small puppies, followed by their mother. Unlike so many Indian dogs these look healthy and properly fed. As we progress around the site the more timid of them drop out and return to mum. The buildings are interesting, built on several levels and provide some decent shade. It is now warming up, although there is an intermittent breeze here on top, which helps keep things cool. We move on from the palace into an area which looks as if it was once a garden. The bushes are teeming with birds, bulbuls, sunbirds, flower peckers and others that we cannot identify. Then R spots some big birds wheeling high above which we identfy as Egyptian Vultures.
The next place we visit is a Jain Temple set in well maintained gardens with blossoming trees all around. We remove our shoes and climb the steps to the entrance, where we see that the caretaker has just mopped the floor inside. We retreat and take a walk through the gardens round the side of temple and find another entrance where the floor is dry. It is so quiet and peaceful here that it is hard to believe that we are in India. We walk out towards the east side of the plateau to look at the Tower of Fame and the view. The book says we will get a great view of the empty plains of Rajasthan. They must have been here in the fog as the plain is clearly teeming with population , industry and buildings. We sit here for a while in the shade, drinking water and eating biscuits. There are a lot more people about now. We make our way back to the centre of the plateau and visit a few more sites but the heat is getting oppressive and the crowds massing so we decide to call it a day.
As we walk back towards the car park a share auto stops and agrees to take us to the station. We squeeze in alongside a young couple for a thrilling freewheel ride back down the hill to the city. The couple get out in the centre and we carry on across the river to the station. We ask around for a taxi and a tall man in a blue checked shirt is summoned. D has the address on a piece of paper . Ravla Khempur Hotel near Mavli. D's pronunciation is quickly corrected. Mavli rhymes with Cowley. There seems to be some incredulity that anybody would want to go to Mavli or anywhere near it, but this hotel has been recommended by our top secret agent, who knows his Rajasthan. Mr Blue Check makes a couple of phone calls and D opens up the maps app. A price is named, we agree and another call made. Our guess is that BC is some kind of agent or broker, calling round until he finds someone to take the job and getting a cut of the fare later. Within five minutes a youngish driver pulls up in what appears to be a private car. He asks for a part advance on the fee for petrol and we stop on the way out of town. We are back where people leave the engine running while they fill up. The trip takes us west along a dual carriageway, some of which is toll road. D phones the hotel to say that we are coming and asks them to give the driver directions, which they do, About an hour out of Chittor we turn off onto a narrow country road which degenerates into a rutted track in a couple of places. Our chap consults locals regularly and at a village we are pointed up a side road, round a corner and through a set of imposing gates. We are at a Haveli with a sign in front that reads "The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel - For the Elderly and Beautiful."
It is the hotel that features in the film, not part of our plan specifically but now we are here, why not? The staff greet us, give us a choice of rooms and bring tea. To say that we are surprised is an understatement. We are told that the manager, Nitin, is out but will return later. Two ladies arrive in an auto. They have come from Udaipur, a real trek in an auto, and they just want to see the place. They are not even staying. We decide to check out the small village around while there is still light. One of the staff offers to act as guide but we are happy to take ourselves around. We soon attract a crowd of children demanding photos as well as some older girls who have quite good English. We find a shop for sweets and hand a few out. The hotel has a swimming pool under construction, a stable full of horses and some fabulous rooves that we explore to the full.
After two rather warm days and an overnight on the train we are ready for showers but have no towels and cannot get any hot water. The hotel is imitating art as the staff have disappeared, leaving us in a Marie Celeste. D's feet are so bad that he goes for it with cold water and one of our emergency travel towels. When he emerges it is to discover that Nitin has arrived and he quickly sorts out towels for us. He asks if we are comfortable and whether we like a beer. Is the Pope a Catholic? Kingfisher and papads are sorted and we discuss our plans for tomorrow. He seems surprised that we would want to go such a slow, strange route to Jaipur but promises to sort a taxi and a packed breakfast, which is a bit of a bonus. Dinner is fixed for 7 and we can enjoy drinks in the courtyard until then. The staff member who offered to be guide turns out to be the man in charge of hot water. There is a wood fired boiler on the roof which he looks after. Now he tells us. We are joined by one other guest, a lady from Brighton who has her feet under the table here, providing advice on interior design and the like.
We dine outside the restaurant by the almost complete swimming pool. The service is enthusiastic but lacks a little polish. The portions are huge and very tasty. We have a splendid supper before turning in. Early start tomorrow.
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