India: Among the 'sandcastles' of royal Rajasthan

Kunang Helmi-Picard Contributor Rajasthan, India

Strictly speaking, the fortified castles in North Rajasthan -- Jaisalmer and Jodhpur to name two of the areas -- are not sand structures. However, their complex and lavish decoration, especially when carved, seems to be undertaken as effortlessly as butter sculpture for a banquet or children's sandcastles.

And it is astounding to discover that all the buildings are carved out of sandstone.

The intricacy of the painted decorations of other types of these mansions -- actually small palaces -- called havelis also takes one's breath away. Rich merchant families in the northeastern Rajasthani province of Shekawati sponsored artists to cover most of their majestic dwellings with brightly colored murals.

These were inspired both by traditional Moghul themes interspersed with British Raj Empire motifs, occasionally featuring stern-faced Victorian aristocrats. Miniature painting is a relic of these times and one can still buy some, of varying quality.

The vestiges of a glorious past are usually surrounded by the arid landscape of the Thar desert, but during my 10-day visit in December (at the kind invitation of a friend) the vegetation was unusually verdant because it had rained well for the first time in years.

The Rajput people, despite their colorful clothing and deceptively lavish and decorated homes of the rich and noble, seem to eke out a living out of barren earth.

Our main reward in Rajasthan was certainly visiting Jaisalmer, the golden city. We reached the promised city after a long car ride -- in Rajasthan we clocked more than 2,000 km in a chauffeur-driven Quali, the Indian version of a Toyota Kijang, without an accident, despite roads full of wild truck drivers, temperamental camels and placid cows.

The ancient city of Jaisalmer, 300 km from Jodhpur, is perched on the edge of the real desert, on India's western border with Pakistan. The roads leading to the golden city are dotted with military camps caused by the political tension between the neighboring nations. Then the castle and walled city, built in 1156 by Rawal Jaisal on a hill, appear in the distance like some welcome mirage.

Happily ensconced on a hotel terrace drinking masala chai (Indian spiced tea), the sunset blazed around us while there was a splendid vista of the main citadel on the hill. Other buildings, like the Royal Cenotaph nearby, are intricately carved in the same golden sandstone.

The next day we agreed that we would not undertake a camel safari into the surrounding desert and instead concentrate on the marvels of Jaisalmer architecture. Anyway it was not the time of the year for the annual desert festival which takes place at the end of January.

The "tank", an artificial lake called Gadi Sagar, is surrounded by a intricately carved gateway onto the waters and a Jain temple with the resident flute player wearing a bright turban. A small domed structure rose out of the water, covered by chattering birds. In olden days the water served as drinking water for the inhabitants. The only trees that flourish here on the edge of the desert are acacias.

Then it was up the hill into the old city. Several successive gates lead up to the city surrounded by thick walls. No cars are allowed, indeed there would be no room to maneuver. Inside, the fort dominates the narrow winding streets. The city is relatively unspoilt despite the tourists and life continues peacefully. White garbed Jain pilgrims visit their temples and stay at small hotels with flowered courtyards inside the city walls.

The castle itself seems small inside, but the richly painted interiors of the maharaja's and maharani's quarters are exquisite and the views of the surrounding desert stunning. Towards the end of the year, many walls of simple dwellings are covered with different painted versions of Ganesh, the elephant god. These mark the venue of a recent wedding.

Down in the lower city outside the walls, carved havelis dot the narrow lanes, with the magnificent Haveli Patwon, consisting of five storeys, even more splendidly carved than the others, bringing the tour to a climax. Inside many palaces, souvenirs such as tie-dye turban cloths, cashmere shawls, hand-made puppets, rugs, doorknobs, silverware or delicate glass lamps are sold.

Most Rajasthanis are vegetarians, and their staple food is millet, not rice. Carrots, potatoes, spinach, eggplant, tomatoes and lentils feature on the daily menu with delicious lassi drinks, and a sinfully wide range of sweets.

Perhaps surprising to some, good food is to be had at the roadside dabbas, the Indian equivalent of Indonesian sidewalk food stalls, outside the cities. When meat is eaten, it is almost always lamb or chicken. Back from our city tour of Jaisalmer, we ate in a normal but simple restaurant with astonishing garishly colored murals of buxom goddesses.

Two days later, after a refreshing stay at Rohet Gahr in a country mansion with a stable of thoroughbred horses -- where travel writers Bruce Chatwin and William Dalrymple spent some time -- we arrived at Jodhpur, the "blue city".

Most homes in Jodhpur are painted blue because mosquitoes are supposedly deterred from entering buildings of that color, besides the color being visually refreshing in the heat. The stone of the citadel and castle is a deep red with white marble inlay, so that the blue of the lower city in the distance and the red of the aristocratic quarters on the hill form a strong contrast. Here, courtyard after courtyard revealed more treasures than those of Jaisalmer.

There is even a resident soothsayer who can also read palms. Other palm prints on the walls provide a more tragic reminder of the practice of sati (widow burning). Maharanis and other wives were expected to be immolated on the funeral pyres of their deceased husbands.

The present maharaja of Jodhpur, Gaj Singh II, lives a few miles away in Umaid Bhawan Palace, a 1926 art deco jewel with 347 rooms in a 15 hectare park. It has been turned into a posh hotel. He is president of the chain of Welcom-Heritage hotels. Despite the fact that one of our travel companions' sister had been his girlfriend for a year at Oxford, we understandably did not dare to drop in for a cup of tea.

It was under Indira Gandhi in 1970 that the Rajasthani maharajas and those of other states lost their privileges and began to pay taxes themselves. Many simply turned their palaces and havelis into hotels with great success after selling off some of their expensive jewelry.

Another 300 km to our tour of the rose pink city of Jaipur was cut short by a change of plans. There was only a hurried glimpse of the Hawa Mahal (Palace of Winds), with its superb facade of 61 closed balconies for the palace women to catch a glimpse of the city streets without being seen. Jantar Mantar, the extraordinary astronomic observatory built by Jai Singh II in 1728, was for next time.

However, our heads were already spinning with the carved and painted wonders that we had already savored in North Rajasthan. Admittedly it takes an effort to imagine that we were still sleeping in palace bedrooms once back in Europe, but the 50,000 euros necessary to buy one haveli, and then more to restore it to its proper glory, does seem prohibitive.