Day 5. Udwada - Bandra - Churchgate.

Ok, checked the map. There’s nothing between here and there. So, I write this after the last significant thing is done, with cocks crowing in the background in the very tranquil Udwada morning Udwada is a village about 8 KM of NH8 towards the southern Gujarat coast line. Its near Daman (which would be a nice place to check out if I wasn’t now strapped for time - I have a class to teach in Mumbai at 2). Daman is this old small portugese town used to be part of the portugese empire, now its just a little Union Territory surrounded on all sides by Gujarat – a Dry State. Making Daman’s main and most interesting feature … you guessed, its booze. But, back to Udwada. Udwada is where one of the oldest Parsi Atash Behram’s exist. That’s firetemples to you heathen non believers ;-) . This is a flame that was brought over from Iran when Zorastrian’s first came over by Sea in the 13th Century. This is the same flame that’s burning today, tended around the clock by Priests who have dedicated their entire lives to doing just that.

The three or four streets around the Atash Behram are completely old school “parsi maholla’s with Agasi’s” (says dad). Its quite pretty, relaxed, and completely Bawa. There are a lot of signs around the Atash Behram that say this prohibited, that prohibited, I thought it was rather amusing. The sad bit is there are a lot of old bungalows and plots that are just over grown with weeds. The whole town is a heritage site, and I just think that the families of the people who must have lived in those homes have either just forgotten and don’t care, or don’t exist anymore. Its like it’s a direct physical representation of an entire ethnic group heading for extinction.

Then we visited the Fire Temple, paid our respects. Dad was really happy that he’s now done this in his lifetime (He’s always wanted to… ) we said our prayers, I wore a Sudro and Kusti (traditional Zorastian religious under gaments) and it was quite a ‘welcome back to the fold’ moment for me. That, done, the Sudro Kusti is safely back in dad’s suitcase, and we’re on to more important things, like… A GOOD PARSI BREAKFAST. At the Hotel, Fried eggs, Kheema, Toast (really nice bread!) Jam, Butter and HOT HOT HOT tea with 6 cups lovely lili-chai in the pot (6, because everytime you poured 1 you lost two all over the table due to the high tech nature of the spout. There was much involvment between me, dad and the pot of tea to see if there was anyway we could avoid this needless sacrifice).

Breakfast safely put away, and tea consumed, and now we’re on the road for the only leg which is a timed segment qualifier.

We’re at the railway crossing outside Udwada where we’re watching a freight train go by. Dad is regaling me with a story of Mr. Chibber. Who told him of the time he got off his train at some platform in the middle of nowhere, India, and took a nap on the bench. The punch line being “ I opened my eyes, and there was a freight train on my platform!”

Though while the road is good, NH8 is pretty hectic traffic wise from here on in. But Dad’s driving, and its ok, apart from the few outbursts at Sumo’s that get up our butt demanding to be let past when there’s no where for us to move. Swines. Doesn’t help that after they’ve sufficiently annoyed us, Dad decides to teach them a lesson by not letting them past when we can. If you’re driving an 800, don’t tangle with the big boys. Period. Oh boy. We’re going to get a lot of stupid Mumbaikar long distance traffic now, and I know they’re all going to be ass-wipes. The road itself from Udwada to about 90km out of Bombay was fantastic. And the drive through the western ghats was breathtaking. Clouds, Rain (our first this whole trip), and general scenic beauty all around. Its hard to believe that such scenic beauty lies only a few hours outside the Black Smoke. But then the road got BAAAAAAD. I mean ridiculously bad. We went through potholes the size of truck tires. This was also a section of the road on which we saw the most number of overturned trucks… oof.

Its 9:am, we get on to the road by 9:10, and we’re off to Bandra where I have to TEACH at 2. This is the only day we’re doing a morning drive, as you may have noticed, the general routine has been wake up and breakfast around 7-8. 8-11. Sightsee around the locality. 11 – 11:30 hit the road, and next rest stop by 7:00 in the evening. So 6 hours of driving the route each day. 4 Days, 24 hours, and now we’ve got a final 4 to go. Average speed 60-70Km/h overall. So that, is a leisurely pace. If for some magnanimous reason, your parents are gifting you a Skoda Octavia instead, you’ll have a lot more sighseeing time, a lot less driving time, cause you’d be doing 120 easy on a lot of these stretches.

We paid three tolls on this section. Only one was worth it. We tried to ask for our money back at the second and third. Surprisingly, once we hit Borivalli, the flyovers on the western expressway took us right into bandra in style.

Oh boy. Better spend the next 20 minutes coming up with a course plan for today.

Got into Bandra, at exactly 1;15 had a quick lunch with Manek. Then Dad and I parted ways for the first time on this trip. I went to teach at MET. Got that out of the way, and then – since I was in Mumbai I had to see a Bollywood sight, so went and hung out with a starlet just so that I could say I’d done it all! ;-) She happens to be my closest friend in this city as well, so hey. Watched Zodiac with her and have now caught a MERU cab (I’m treating myself) for the final leg to Churchgate. I guess this is it. End of the road trip the second I step into court view!

Right. Off I go. Final seg pics will be on line shortly, and once I figure out how to get bloody Picassa and Blogger to work together properly (Google, do something about this, because it AIN’T intuitive, and that’s surprising coming from you guys! –Snook cocked, pra. ;-) )

And my cell phone is starting to beep and buzz. Which means we’ve got signal, and Bombay can’t be far away. I’ll reedit parts of the blog to put in distances and map references and driving times later. Also insert some select pictures from the trip at appropriate places in this. But, this is the last entry on this little blog! Unless I do another ‘roadtripwithdad’. Which, hey, may just happen! All it’ll take is for him to gift mom a car!

Day 4: Ahmedabad – Adalaj Wav (Baoli) – Udwada.

Woke up nice and chirpy for the sleep at the Cama hotel, had a few laughs a big big breakfast and set out to see Adalaj Baori which is 19 km north (yes, the other way) of Ahmedabad, drove right past Sabarmati Ashram (Gandhi's main crib from where he basically ran the independence movement) and after some insane city driving and getting pulled over by traffic cops for not having these silly yellow stickers on either side of our headlights (which we would spin by acting like we stopped to ask them for directions, and telling them we're from Delhi and going to Mumbai). We found ourselves at this amazing step well. I think it's the largest of its kind ever. Its so ornate, and exquisitely carved that it does take the breath away. Dad was much impressed, as was I. An old gentleman with a lathi was sitting at the first landing down (its five stories deep). When I casually enquired what the four rooms around the landing were, he engaged dad in a heavy Gujarati accent and told him the entire story of how the Maharani of the time wanted her husband to build her this, and he died half way through the construction, and how other Mughal Muslim royal princes and suitors tried to woo her by helping her with each of the next levels. I've taken two video shots as well to give you a sense of the quite calm and solitude. It was at least 10 degrees cooler on the 3^rd and 4^th levels than up at the surface. And well worth seeing.

Back to the Cama hotel (turns out everyone who even isn't in Ahmedabad knows it – aunt wasn't surprised when we told her we were staying there, and she's never even been to this city). Then we went in search for the road to Baroda. Now, I've decided. Maps of India, Road Atlases bought by dad and other such AA aids we had were all CRAP. At the end of the day, it was the Lonely planet guide's little city schematics that made the most sense, and that helped me get to most places. Dad's been very impressed by my navigation in cities unknown, I owe it to the LP, hands down the best thing you can have on this trip (and a little charm with which to woo the locals to not give you bad directions when you most need them). So, we drive through INSANE Ahmedabad traffic and finally after many more interactions with cops that turned into amazing efforts at helpfulness to two gujarati speakers. (well, one quasi-speaker). We found our way to NE1. Wait, this isn't NH8. Nooo. Forget about about National Highway's, this is National Expressway 1. This had to be the fastest and smoothest road we've taken so far. Both dad and I were thinking, if only these wheels were balanced a bit better so the car wouldn't wobble past 80 (kph). But hey, it was smooth booooring driving. We stopped at a proper NE style pull over rest station with all the mod cons like a snazzy food court and other such conveniences. It was a sterile sterile place, and really boring. The Chinese we ate for lunch was as dull. Then we scooted all the way to Vadodra. Then, things got interesting. You see. After Vadodra, we had to get to Surat, and this chunk of road has us harking back to driving in India of last year. Miles of potholed surfaces with the two or three smooth stretches in between major diversions and single lane backups across rivers, (Oh, we crossed the Narmada and the Godavari .. nice moments). Truck traffic beyond belief with very obnoxious bus drivers and private taxi drivers always cutting in, hogging our behind it was not NOT fun. But after Surat thankfully the road turned back into some very nice 4 lane highway. From where we had to hightail it to Udwada to make it to this one horse town in time for Dinner. But generally there is a consensus in this car that Gujarat is not the best state for a casual drive through. It's all about getting from one end to the other as fast as possible.

So here we are, so glad we're out of our car, and quite thankful that Bombay is only 4 hours away. I parked the car in front of a sign that said, Alcohol strictly prohibited on these premises. Dad walked into the reception of this Parsi establishment in this very Parsi town and said, can we get a beer to our room? Sure! Thank god for Parsi's!

Then we settled in for a home cooked meal which would leave my brother so amazingly jealous. It was Sali Murgi, Fried Boi (an amazing kind of fish), and Rotlis. Followed by Lagan to Custar.. MM mm MMM MMM mmmmhhhhh! Eat your heart out Bhai.

So now, TV, blog, sleep. No decent network here, so post the pics tomorrow.

G'night all! Oh, and a Happy Navroz Mubarak to all of you too! From Dhun Dee and Me.

Day 3. Kumbalghar – Udaipur – Ahmedabad.

Today morning: The fort… wow wow wow.

Panic SMS’s received the second we were in network range at Kumbalghar Fort from Mom. You’ve been out of touch!!! No Mom, we’re safe, no Dakoos here either. After describing Kumbalghar to her on the phone, and seeing that she was happy that dad was safe and in good hands (and I’m sure she also checks with Dad that I’m safe and in good hands), she was nice and jealous and wished to be here. Dad wants to come back. So it’s a winner with him, and it makes the 120 KM detour totally worth it.

This place was incredible - what a magnificent sight it must have been to the people who were ruled by it. Even now, it dwarfs anything I’ve seen in terms of the scale of what was being made.

Kumbalghar is built on the highest peak in the Arravalis. It has battlements that circle around the crests of hills for 36KM’s. Creating a Mewar fort that is so impregnable, huge and safe that it has only fallen once to a combined force of a bunch of different outside invaders, and that too, only for 2 days – in its entire history. It has some 302 temples in its grounds, amazing water bodies, a wildlife sanctuary, and the terrifically high badal mahal which at 1100M above sea level, commands what must be one of the most magnificent views on this whole drive.

After Dad checked out the ramparts (from where he kept being possessed by spirits of the watchtower guards – “Ohhhhhhhhoooo Sooono!!! 20 Paltan Ghorde Wale or 10 Top Hathi ke saath hamare dakshin dwar pe hamla kar rahe hai!! Fauz ko Jagaooooo!” he did this more than once. I think he really wanted to stand guard on the fort – he would have been so good at it too! I hired us a tour guide, Dad decided he was no good, the tour guide decided we weren’t interesting. Dad called it the quickest 100 bucks the guide has ever made. “This is the Kitchen where they cooked food to be sent to all the outposts along the 36 KM ramparts (6 horses wide at the top), that’ll be a 100 rupees thank you very much!”

Having been significantly wowed, and rather happy with the fact that it was time well spent, dad drove the first leg down this single road route extremely conscientiously, patiently waiting for Herd’s of asses and Buffaloes heading to their water holes to be done with their business on the roads .

This amazing single lane b road that was for the most part smooth and beautiful took us all the way into Udaipur. It way it wound through the hill ranges was just phenomenal. For a while we found our route interweaving with this beautiful river that had cut its way through the Aravalis. 80 KM stretch of driving, 2 Hours, blissfully beautiful.

Just outside Udaipur we come across these massive concrete bunkers lined up side by side at 500 yard intervals with two walls and a roof, each one big enough to hold a 727. I thought what the hell are these? Then we see it…. This massive amount of blasting and construction taking place to build what I suppose will be the continuation of the NH8 superhighway from Udaipur to Ajmer. They’re not joking about the size of this golden quad project, and after Udaipur, we’d see what the end result of that madness is.

Then we hit Udaipur. The discussion of “Drive On” vs. “Stop and smell the roses” came to a slightly tough impasse. I was about to be seriously vetoed and ordered back to NH8 when Dad saw the narrow streets, but an obstinate push on by an obstinate son got us to the Ameri restaurant. Which is on this peninsula thrusting into the lake in the old city. Its gorgeous, with a great view of the Udaipur ghat that lines the banks of the Pichola Lake with hills behind it… and it was damn good mutton biriyani to boot. We chilled there till 3, then got a bit panicky about the fact that Ahmedabad was a good 240 km away. So off we went. Picked up NH8 and the reason for panic was gone. It turned into this amazing 4 lane expressway that wound its way through the southern hills of Rajasthan, the land was green, verdant and rolling countryside, and passing us at 80Kmph. It was a great drive and reminded me of the drives I would take across the US when I was in college there. We always stick around 80 km an hour because at 82 the wheels of our trusty steed would start to wobble. We pass everything but the fancy cars that suddenly appear up our tail pipe and then disappear into the distance.

The music for this drive has been a mix of classical, baroque, piano concertos (which after 30 minutes dad finds annoying..) when we’re cheerful we switch to a lot of music out of the American songbook, and all the crooners from the 30’s – 50’s come out of my lovely new music system.

We hit the Gujarat border at 5;15… after which we stopped, I had channa and puris and then Dad took over and we hoofed it towards Ahmedabad. We did the whole section up to the outskirts of Ahmedabad in 2 hours. The last 45 minutes the car was handed back to me. During this hectic drive in when patience was its usual wafer thin, I made the mistake of bringing up plans for tomorrow. So the whole “stick to NH8 and get to Mumbai” vs. “Stop and check out the sights” debate is back in full flow. Well, debating aside, we’re very happy with how fast and easily we got to our rest stop, The Cama Hotel. Which apart from being a very bog standard executive traveler’s hotel with all the basic goods and amenities, it also is on the banks of the Sabermati. I like rivers that run through cities, (I think of Paris and London when I say this). But even nicer about the Cama, driving wise, is that EVERYONE in Ahmedabad, from a juice walla at a junction 10 kilometers away to every cop, and most auto drivers knew where it was!

We chilled, I loaded up the photo’s for the day, and went down to the coffee shop for dinner. Food? Ohhh kay… but it seems like the Cama Hotel coffee shop is like a total hangout for locals be it a 14 strong table of Parsi extended family out for their Sunday treat, or the younger hepper ‘Avemabad never sleeps’ crowd. So. Um. Interesting.

And I’ve now had a super hot shower, and am tucked into nice clean sheets in nice bouncy firm bed. Watching the TV and hearing dad read the Sunday paper. We’re all good.

Tomorrow, we wake up and its probably Sabermati Ashram or some amazing Baori (Step Well) I’ve heard about a few KM outside the city, and then on to do our little Parsi thing and visit the oldest Parsi fire temple in India at Udvada which will be the last and final stop before we head into the Big Black Smoke.

G’night.

For pics, click here.

Day 2 – Jaipur – Amber – Ajmer - Kumbalghar.

Its morning of day 3, I was so tired last night that I just crashed after writing a few notes about the day. Now I edit, and hope that I’ll be able to upload this from the network when we hit the fort.

We woke up at Barwara Lodge (Great Night, comfy sleep, really nice room!), and got directions from our host to go to see amber fort. We drove through the nice sights of Jaipur (and its morning traffic, passing Hava Mahal and a few bazaars and gates to get to the fort. Which we found on the outskirts through some nice bends in the road. When we arrived, we parked where we thought we had to and found out it would cost 550 by elephant or 220 by jeep. A helpful (read someone who wanted a job touring us) told us we could take our car straight up via the same Jeep route for just 20 bucks. The road was fine, and in a bit, we got up, and went on our quick hit and run tour of the fort. We took out Dad’s camera to take pics (Last night, Dad, charge the camera. No, don’t need to its got juice. Today, Dad how do you spell DOGHOUSE?) it had no batteries, AND the ones we purchased from the touts at the fort turned out to be dead… no worries, out comes my trusty little nokia phone and here we have some representational 2 mega pixel shots for you to enjoy.

Dad kept on going on about the ostentations and unfair distributions of wealth that allowed for kings and emperors to have their kingdoms and empires. I was like, dad, you sound like you’re a communist.

“I AM A COMMUNIST!” he said proudly.

I thought, “must get a book of quotes going on this trip.”

We finished our lovely tour of the fort, where I got to reminisce about where I got lost when I was visiting here last at the age of 8. I did well not to cry this time.

There’s always bit of shirtyness at the top of the morning, getting in, settling into a drive. It was helped by the highway out of Jaipur being fantastic. Total Americana… 6 lanes, lots of tolls, lots of fancy new rest stops, including a coffee day that had just opened which when we walked in, turned on their AC and fridges and power. I thought, there is now way in hell they’ll be able to serve me cold coffee and a fresh sandwich if they haven’t got refrigeration. They managed the sandwhich, it was good, but the cold coffee and a VERY suspect after taste to it.

Our goal was Ajmer, for lunch, and a quick gander at Chisti’s Dargaha. This expressway put us a few km out of Ajmer, where NH8 again turned into a two lane road ….. I had thought the whole 4-6 business would last us to Mumbai with the Golden Quadlirateral, but nope. Back to a 2 lane road. Thankfully it was high quality surface throughout, except when we pass through the villages that NH8 go through.

On the bonding front: Dad has started to call me third gear Jana, because I like using my gears for power and control at speeds. He on the other hand is concerned about all the fuel that I haven’t been paying for, so I switch to fourth for three seconds before the next pothole. Oh, btw. Potholes… not many. Highways have been smooth and utterly lovely, except when they go through the cities they connect, and the villages that line them. At which point there are speed breakers, rumble strips and a lot of bad bits but these are few and far between.

Ajmer was a bit of a bummer. Lunch was at Honeydew restaurant – touted by Lonely Planet to be nice, famous for the fact that all the Mayo students treat each other here. A bit on the Rajasthani dating scene. I tried to open the restroom door to find it locked. Oh, it’s a single bathroom is it? Ok. I wait, three seconds later a large Rajasthani boy comes out, 2 seconds after that, his girlfriend, holding her folded hanky in front of her face. Hmm. Charming. After a relaxing and rested lunch, we set out to find Chisti’s tomb. The hot Ajmeri sun was not something we should have been sightseeing in. One look at the old quarter of Ajmer and dad was like, you go walk through those streets to see Chisti’s dargha - I’ll pass. I wasn’t too excited about the idea either. So, bit of a write off that.

The road out of Ajmer however was decent, but when we reached Rajasamand district, it made the purpose of Ajmer as a contrasting point pay off… something dramatic happened to the landscape, and things just got gorgeous. Rajasamand is the prettiest plains, semi-plains district I have ever driven through. It is just scenic, full of water bodies, lush and green with many little bits of hill and ranges that roll around us, and that we rolls through. Even the Camel sightings got more frequent, and there were asses to boot. No not asses in the boot. Asses TO boot!

For some reason, Dad wanted to do a lot of driving today. He took all the nice chunks of driving, and left me all the crap stretches. He also earned the title of evil kenievel, often coming right up a passing cow or goats butt before swearing at them to move off the road. Scared me for a bit, playing chicken with the many Jeep Taxi’s that shuttle between towns along NH8 in the district.. but here we are, and our next rest stop, safe sound and rather exhausted.

That’s the best bit though. Our next rest stop. My philosophy of a 30 minute detour of the NH8 max to smell roses? Not so well received here because Kumbalgarh and the Aoudhi Hotel where we’re staying, is at least an hour off NH8 (but its also directly connected to udaipur via an alternative route that is only 80 km – so this morning will be a nice scenic B road drive for the first 80 KM into Jaipur on a road parallel to NH8).

But Kumbalgarh. Oh my god. So worth it. After the beauty of driving through the north end of Rajasamand district we stopped for a bhutta and chai at gomati circle junction on NH8. After which I finally got to take the wheel and turned off towards Rajasamand. We took a lovely 42 km drive along a lovely maintained single B road into the Arravalis (the real ones) and this was just spectacular! We crossed ridge after ridge getting even deeper into the range, mainly driving along valley floors between hills. We arrived just in time with wafer thin patience left with each other (its in our genes to get really cranky when tired) and found ourselves at Aoudhi hotel. It’s a lovely retreat. Its been around for 20 years, the architecture tries to emulate the fort that we’re next to but ends up being a bit Kitch in the process. Still, its green, and lush, and quite luxurious - we have a suite with a bedroom, lounge, verandah, dressing-room and fancy bathroom (with hot showers and good water pressure, a MUST for such trips). So, another good call. It matters because Dad needs a place he can put his hat, kick his feet up and watch a bit of telly after days like this. (I sat and wrote down all the English channel numbers for him to use, he did it at Jaipur, so I thought lets continue this little ritual).

At 8.00 pm the lights went on at Kumbalgarh fort a km away, and our manager requested we muster enough strength to take one last outing to see the fort and a section of its 36KM rampart walls lit up. It was worth every ounce of reserve energy we had. (Plus it’s the only place in these hills that get network, so this blog will have to wait till the AM to get posted (NO I am not going with my laptop back to the fort to just post this I am way too knackerd for that). So, now I sleep.

So far, so fun!

Today morning. Udaipur – late morning tea something. Then off to Ahmedabad. It’s a straight drive day. See you then!

P.S FYI - Just so you know. I'm uploading this blog while sitting at a restraunt looking over the lovely Udaipur Pichola Lake and the Lake palace.
Pics from that.. tomorrow!
Love from Dad and Me.

Day 1 Delhi - Jaipur via Ramgarh

Here's what happens when parents excite each other with grand gifts such as brand new cars, they happily donate their old car to their younger thing, who is trying to make it in another city and finds cars unaffordable. But in their delirium of Joy from their red coloured acquisitions, they say things that they later aren't so sure about like, "Hey, why don't you and Dad go on a ROAD TRIP and drive the Old Car down to Mumbai!"

Now, I've got a lot of friends with their various out of state cars in Mumbai, and I found that most of them have had them trained in, trucked in, or generally driven in. A road trip with their parents, through the rough rugged and real India, full of Dakoo Gabbar Sings and other Bollywood stereo-types, was never on the cards.

But here's the thing! Turns out its not such a bad idea. Sure, its cheaper to send it along by other means of Transport, 5000 by rail, 7 grand for petrol and a driver and his return ticket. But parent-child road trip? Surely its worth the 4 nights in nice lodges (around 2,500 - 3,000 per night) and the tolls and the petrol) for that quality time?

And today, there are so many parents in Delhi, with so many kids in Mumbai and so many spare cars to gift to them (remember, you DO need to re-register, and that's 4.5% of Invoice value with depreciation for Octroi and 7 percent of Invoice value with depreciation for Registration), that I decided to test out whether this could be the ultimate father son bonding experience.

Now, there are too approaches to this. One is goal oriented. "We've got to get this car to Mumbai by day after tomorrow!" and knowing me and my dad's propensity to compulsively focus on such goals, I decided that I would be the voice that says 'Smell the roses' (or in this case the petrol pumps that dot NH8).

My dad is a very very fit senior citizen,
(Touch wood - oh no! Where? I'm in an 800! Quick Dad stop need to hug that tree!!
What? WHY?
YOU WON"T UNDERSTAND DAD... JUST STOP!!!)


but even I don't want to push 7-10 hour drives on him. So my plan was to do it slow, take it easy, stop at many places and places that he would like. He's not much of a sight-seer, but he does like creature comforts and nice places to stop and stay. So after a bit of research using the Maps of India, Lonely Planet and a less than Useful Road Holidays in India that the AA has published, I found that it would be really nice to stay in nice Home lodges and other heritage hotel spots and see the sights over nice cups of tea served by bearers with stuffed animals looking over you - one of them even holding a tray - which was a bit sad really).



So with NH8 as a general guideline, and knowing that my dad won't be happy with any detour over half an hour from NH8, I made my plan. Mom, whose idea it was in the first place, suddenly worried that we were heading into the great Indian rural unknown and suggested we carry all manner of chaku, bandhook, pistal, and a aluminum softball bat to protect us. So one Tili and Narayal later, and 4 squished nimbu's under the tyres, we headed off into the great - extremely well sign posted 4 lane unknown.

We left Delhi at 10. No hurry, yes we aimed to hit the road by 8.30 but I was printing out maps and hotel bookings - I've only planned the first 3 nights so far, yes there are two more (dad doesn't know!) - Dad was tying my brand new stereo system back into the dashboard - because the B4$!42#'s at Khan Market thought that the face plate was structurally sound enough to hold up the whole thing. And generally I wanted to be sure that Dad was up for this trip, so I didn't really zip up my bag stroller until he was chomping at the bit to get to Jaipur. Off we went, nerves were high, a mosquito kept buzzing around in the car from Haus Khas to Vasant Vihar which became the soul object of both our attentions (we had the most close calls in that first 5 km and none the rest of the day - which I see as a good start to get those out of the way). A simple open the window and let it out did the trick after our homicidal attempts all failed. Then came dad settling in, his baseball cap needed to find a home, and tried various places for the first 20 minutes. First the dashboard, then the space between the tape holder under the dashboard, in the glove compartment, on the corner of the glove compartment door, on lap, under the sun visor, finally it found that the back seat was as good a place as any and settled there. Dad took out his notebook, we filled petrol, he wrote down the mileage, liters filled (I asked him to throw in the time) and armed with the printed out maps I gave him, he navigated me onto NH8 (Which is to basically go out of our colony and turn right).

Then we both got worried about the possibility of the tyres blowing up (I hear that’s a major cause of accidents on the Mumbai-Pune expressway) So we stopped at 6 of the 300 petrol stations in Harayana to see if we could check the pressure of our warmed up tires. None of them had air, or a pressure gauge. We finally remembered at the Rajasthan border that we had packed one, and checked to see that all tyres hovered around 28 when warm, which they did, so all was good.

Then, the routine began to set in. Every bump in the landscape was referred to by Dad as the Aravallis, and any time either one of us wanted the other to stop back seat driving “Oh look at those lovely fields” became the phrase du-jour!. I started my camel count. 5 so far (disappointing), how we overtook, checking on the left of obstinate lorries that wouldn’t give way to see if we could pass them safely there, team work came into the game and we were all settling in: and just as Mom predicted, the stories started to flow. The whole point of the trip to have a fun time together realized within 2 hours of setting out from Delhi. This was SUCH A GOOD IDEA.

We stopped at an amazingly American-esque rest stop called King’s Highway Hotel (A Coffee Day! Yay) and then plunged into north western Rajasthan with great purpose. As we drove we had the Omlette Parathas and headed fast through the various way points on the map, and when all was good, I reminded Dad of my first detour to the Ramgarh Hunting Lodge. I wanted to have a nice Taj Tea with a great view of 267 sq miles of water. With some uncertainty as to how to get there, we went through a couple of B roads, villages and finally after asking many a local (no Gabbar Singh Types) arrived by crossing over a large Bund in a spur of what turned out to actually be the Arravali’s.


It was beautiful, gorgeous, and the lack of water while sad, didn’t take away from the worth while detour of NH8.


After many Parathas, Lassi, Dahi and a cup of not so great tea, we hit the road again, and took new directions (that didn’t backtrack) to NH8. I had hoped we’d stop in Amer (an amazing fort exists there, but for some reason the quite nicely maintained quiet country road connecting us back to NH8 bypassed the whole plan and popped us right into the North East corner of Jaipur. Where all the potholes, traffic, dust, and insane rubble that this city calls roads started. Without a clear idea of where we were going ( I knew we needed to be in the South East corner of the city) we started to make through rough roads to our first night stop. Barwara Kothi in the colonial part of Jaipur (Civil Lines, pretty colonial sounding at least). Frazzled and somewhat irritated by all the bouncing around that we suddenly had to experience ( I mean, we’d had a ride that was smooth as glass till then) We found Barwara Kothi not a moment to soon. This place is excellent. Its beautiful, feels like a nice place to be and is of much relief to weary travelers. The Gurkha and 3rd or fourth generation descendents of the Maharana of Barwara ( I think) are taking great care of us at their brand new quiet little boutique hotel in this beautiful colonial bungalow. Our twin bed cheapest room is more than we could expect for the rate we found online, and dad is now comfortably tucked in under his Razai in his 4 poster bed (not before we went to the Polo Lounge at the Taj Rambaugh Palace to have a beer tho!) and now, after day one is over I’m ready to call it a night as well.

Not sure what we’ll do tomorrow. Either check out Jaipur in the morning a bit, I’ve got to get sunglasses, and we may need to just have a quick check under the hood re: tuning the car (practical note – if you’re telling your mechanic to do a full total service of the car for a long distance run, wheel balance, alignment, engine tuning, spark plug change, headlight alignment, coolant, oil filters, tyre treads etc etc. Run the car on a highway at the speed you want to maintain during the journey for a complete test. Don’t do a city run test. Its just not the same. A lot of little stuff came up and while the car is in no mortal peril it could be running better. But, the plan? Jaipur for a bit maybe, Ajmer, and then we stop about 70 km outside Udaipur at what I hope will be the third nice little heritage bivouac… Kumbalgarh, here. Lets see! Thanks to my reliance connect card, you’ll get the pics and the posts as soon as I’m tucked into my next bed! G’night y’all.
See the pics here.