We left England with pre-conceived ideas of the weather and the stresses and strains of London life. Three days later we have begun to relax into our spiritual journey, helped by the books of Indian life to create our mood we have arrived in Jodphur to the most marvellous of hotels, the Raas. It reminds me of a Morrocan setting, probably the Muslim influence as M says. We were greeted by what seems like the entire staff of the hotel, all lovely and welcoming and settled in to our fabulous room which includes its own purda room, for the women to watch the men, as in past times they must be kept separate.
Delhi seems a thousand miles away now and has a different feel altogether, M and I are glad to be out of it but strangely looking back, grateful to have seen the Gandhi museum and to have met and experienced a mystic Sufi in the guise of our tour guide named Robinson. Once we got over the shock of the weather ( think London pea souper ) and the fact that I had to wear M’s clothes and my Ugg boots to keep warm we really enjoyed the crazy early evening tour that we took with Robinson. Meandering through the souk like streets and even through people’s gardens to get to the Aga Khans tomb, which I have to say was a beautiful treasure amongst the chaotic life of Delhi.
We walked through a mosque and saw the Sufi trees full of little pots with offerings. We arrived at what seemed to us a stagnant pool possibly with typhoid tendencies which apparently has healing properties and people come for miles to drink, I would say if you survive a glass of it then you can survive anything. We walked bare foot and had to abandon any worried notions of Delhi belly which M now seems to have contracted where I, as usual, still haven’t managed to go at all. Luckily Robinson just pressed the heel of my foot and gave me some green tea, as soon as he left I was cured which is more than Western medicine has ever managed for me!
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