My Boulangerie.

Elephants and Maharajas are parading on the walls. A fine lake with a palace on its own island. Laid back cafes and endless veggie thalis. Narrow lanes going up and down and up again and scents to die for. A local juice stall, the Juice Baba, with killer pineapples. An endless veranda to lounge on and a garden with thick shadows inside a palace. Elephants blocking your way until you feed him something. A firm bed and of course your very own boulangerie. Why would one like Udaipur?

Castles And Palaces.

In Jaipur you can find a treasure of handicrafts, textiles and jewelery in the bazaars. But you can also loose yourself in one of the many palaces, pink coloured and incredibly complex and decorated. The Hawa Mahel for example, with its imposing facade glowing in the early morning sun and its myriad of tiny windows designed to allow the ladies of the court to watch the street processions away form any prying eyes.
Or in nearby Amber, the capital of a separate kingdom for seven centuries, with its immensely sprawling castle-palace atop a hill, impeccable vistas and a maze of courtyards. The heat is intense and the quietness mind-stopping in some quarters.
There was no time for all but there never is, right?

Looking Up - Looking Down.

The Pink City.

The Pink City is Jaipur. Supremely famous and one of the most popular destinations this side of the Indus river, it has the looks, it has the past, it has the bling. What's missing?
I haven't figured it out yet, but something is. Could it be the overtly staring eyes on the streets? The aggressive indifference of the market, or just simply the stupefying heat? I'll have to think harder.

The walk to the temple with the elderly painter and dancer, the short exposure to another expression of the local metaphysical religiosity and the little stone elephant looking after us during the siesta were memorable. And the chicoo milkshake of course. Both of them!