The Golden Triangle is the Delhi-Jaipur-Agra circuit, which includes four states and quintessential North Indian tourist destinations.
For us, EAP prepares the excursion for this weekend.
We had to all assemble at the
Study Center at 5:30 am, and we hopped on AC charter buses for Jaipur in Rajasthan.
We got information sheets explaining the destinations.
Talking about Jaipur’s different attractions, it read, “Pretty dolls from various countries are on display in the compound of the school for deaf and dumb children”.
I was wondering why we do all our traveling by bus, when the train system is so efficient.
Just imagine
Vijay calling up Indian Railways, “Hi, can I make a reservation for 40 Americans please?”
On the way out of
Delhi, we passed the modern high-rises of Gurgaon and the rest of the cultivated flat southern Haryana plains.
The Delhi-Jaipur road was well-paved and maintained.
We saw a few other charter buses with tourists in them.
It’s kind of weird…You’re old and rich and white, why aren’t you flying?
The semi trucks are all decorated, painted with colorful motifs, pictures of Indian flags, cows, birds, lettering saying “National Carrier”, “All-India Permit”, “Use Dipper at Night”, and “Blow Horn”.
We stopped several times for bathroom breaks, and it’s a funny sight to see five tourists in a line peeing on the roadside at once.
We passed a gasoline truck, with the back painted Rajasthan means “Land of the Kings”, and is
India’s most color-charged state.
So, since I’m colorblind, can I get charged less?
Rajasthan is the land of feudal kings known as Rajputs, who lived according to a strict moral code of honor.
Even the British had a difficult time controlling the territory.
The land is mostly rural and impoverished, but visitors are drawn here for its fairy-tale cities and colorful beauty.
It was dramatic; the red dry soil against the green of the wheat fields, and the rocky hills accentuated by the yellow or red of
a turban or a sari.
The houses were made of mud and dung, with hay constituting the roofing.
Women in bright blue and yellow saris walk on dusty paths between red-dirt fields, carrying bundles of hay on their heads.
Men adorned in large white or red turbans and white draped clothing sit under trees playing cards or tending their cattle.
Enormous camels pulled carts filled with people and hay.
We finally got into Jaipur, a city surrounded by rugged hills crowned with forts and walls.
The inner city, known as the
Old City is touristy and completely painted pink.
Outside, the rest of the city is the dirty working capital of Rajasthan.
The hotel was nestled in a part of town filled with hospitals and office buildings.
Vijay had written that “we will be staying in reasonably good hotels”.
If by “reasonably good” you mean the five-star, $120 a night, Clarks Amer.
And the best part is that the UC Regents are paying for the entire thing.
A well-dressed doorman with a Rajasthani turban and an amazing Civil War moustache greeted and opened the door for us.
We had lunch, which was extravagant and ice cream was dished up in a cube of pure fattening goodness.
I had five plates of delicious food.
Afterwards, we all went by bus to the
Old City for sightseeing.
The
Old City was painted pink by the Maharaja upon Prince Edward VII’s visit, because it was his favor
ite color.
..woman. Today, everything in the walls share a dark pink color and Indian architectural style, with black and white signs leading to bazaars selling everything from fresh vegetables to Rajasthani fabrics.
It’s beautiful, minus the dirty roads, power lines, and congested traffic.
Camels, cows, motorcycles, rickshaws, and cars all occupy the gridded streets.
The
City Palace is located in the center of town, and is now a museum.
It is extremely touristy, and we were greeted by a snake charmer.
An entourage of hawkers harassed everyone, selling peacock fans, chess sets, postcards, and jewelry.
One man even asked for money for making weird funny faces that we could photograph.
The museum was ornate, ceilings inlaid with gold, made during British rule.
I saw the world’s biggest silver container in the world, used by the Maharaja while he was studying in
England.
His mother told him that drinking the water in
England would be bad for him; sounds familiar.
The world’s second-largest chandelier was also housed here, as well as a vast assortment of beautiful paintings and Hindu texts.
The armory housed an artistic
assortment of guns, knives, and swords.
My favorite display was an arrangement of weapons that spelled out “Welcome”, with a caption reading “a collection of backscratchers and daggers”.
Rajasthani men in red turbans and white suits could be paid to be photographed.
We saw a handicrafts emporium (Vijay probably got a huge commission for bringing us), which was extremely overpriced.
We had a painter demonstrate his job, which was kept in the family for generations.
He told us that he doesn’t make the squirrel-hair brushes himself because as he said, “Have you ever tried to catch a squirrel?”.
I swam in the nice pool after returning home.
That was short lived, because once it got dark, a horde of bats started swooping over the water at my head.
I ate dinner and then headed to the bar on the rooftop, overlooking the city.
It was really nice except for the weird pornographic elevator music.
Vijay calling up Indian Railways, “Hi, can I make a reservation for 40 Americans please?” On the way out of 
a turban or a sari. The houses were made of mud and dung, with hay constituting the roofing. Women in bright blue and yellow saris walk on dusty paths between red-dirt fields, carrying bundles of hay on their heads. Men adorned in large white or red turbans and white draped clothing sit under trees playing cards or tending their cattle. Enormous camels pulled carts filled with people and hay. We finally got into Jaipur, a city surrounded by rugged hills crowned with forts and walls. The inner city, known as the 
ite color...woman. Today, everything in the walls share a dark pink color and Indian architectural style, with black and white signs leading to bazaars selling everything from fresh vegetables to Rajasthani fabrics. It’s beautiful, minus the dirty roads, power lines, and congested traffic. Camels, cows, motorcycles, rickshaws, and cars all occupy the gridded streets. The 
assortment of guns, knives, and swords. My favorite display was an arrangement of weapons that spelled out “Welcome”, with a caption reading “a collection of backscratchers and daggers”. Rajasthani men in red turbans and white suits could be paid to be photographed. We saw a handicrafts emporium (Vijay probably got a huge commission for bringing us), which was extremely overpriced. We had a painter demonstrate his job, which was kept in the family for generations. He told us that he doesn’t make the squirrel-hair brushes himself because as he said, “Have you ever tried to catch a squirrel?”. I swam in the nice pool after returning home. That was short lived, because once it got dark, a horde of bats started swooping over the water at my head. I ate dinner and then headed to the bar on the rooftop, overlooking the city. It was really nice except for the weird pornographic elevator music.
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