Unusual trip to Rajasthan November 2022

Friday, November 4 My flight Barcelona - Abu Dhabi - Delhi went smoothly, it’s on time, and here I am back in India after 3 long years. As I step off the plane, we head toward customs. It’s 3 AM, I’m tired but happy. The huge customs hall is below ground level and buzzing with people who’ve just arrived. In the end, they’re well organized—Indians to the left, foreigners to the right, and all along the hall, the customs officers’ posts, who remain very zen despite the crowd. It took me less than 2 hours to get out of the airport, which was pretty quick. For this return trip, I got in touch with a driver from the "Lovers of India" group who was supposed to take me from the airport to Udaipur, passing through non-touristy villages like I love. This French-speaking driver had convinced me to travel by car, which was supposed to make moving from village to village easier. Two or three days before departure, I receive a message from the driver saying he was sick with a cold and sending another driver, his very kind brother who knows Rajasthan well but doesn’t speak French. I’m a bit disappointed by this message and doubtful about the driver’s sincerity, but I don’t have time to find another driver, so I stick to my plans, though I’m not at ease. At the exit, the driver hasn’t arrived, and I wait half an hour before seeing him show up with a big smile, "Namaste." We don’t waste time and head to the car, which is clean and new. We get to know each other in the car and hit the road toward Alwar. Along the way, we stop for lunch and to taste my first masala chai, which wakes up my taste buds.



I doze off during the drive, and we arrive at the Atlantic Hotel in Alwar at 10:30 AM. My room is on the ground floor, and I settle in quickly. The Wi-Fi isn’t working, but the staff do everything they can to fix it. At noon, Gajender, the driver, suggests visiting the Qila Fort, which is on the heights of Alwar. The fort is closed for restoration, but safari tours are offered—jeep, guide, driver, and visit for 1600 Rs.



We follow the great wall, which is impressive—the second largest in India and the third in the world.



We spot peacocks and monkeys.





The guide shows me an old stepwell lost in nature. It’s always my thing to check out these baoris, which can be stunning, but this one isn’t anything special. We arrive at the palace overlooking the city.



We walk around the palace, and I discover another stepwell that’s not worth lingering over.

The tour is over, and I had a great time despite the fatigue. We head back down to Alwar, near the City Palace, which has been turned into administrative offices. Gaju (the driver’s nickname) finds a parking spot near a dhaba where we have lunch (paneer masala, chapatis, chai)—it’s delicious. With my energy restored, we head to the palace. On the top floor is a museum that I visit.



At the exit of the museum, we have to go back down and walk around the palace to get to the Moosi Maharani Chhatri. I’ve been here once before and really liked it, and the place is still the same—calm and relaxing.



"This monument is the most artistic in Alwar and also the most royal, filled with fascinating history. Maharaja Vinay Singh of Alwar built this two-story cenotaph in 1815 in memory of his father, Maharaja Bakhtawar Singh. It’s also known as Moosi Maharani ki Chhatri, named after the king’s mistress, who performed sati upon his death. After the sati, she was accepted as the king’s wife. It’s an elegant monument, shaped like a flower and built with a mix of brown sandstone and white marble. The first floor is made of sandstone, while the upper floor and the chhatris (cenotaphs) are in white marble. Its sculpted pavilion has dome-shaped arches with intricate lace-like and exquisite floral patterns. There are complex motifs that shine brightly in the sunlight. The colorful circular ceiling is an important part of Moosi Maharani Ki Chhatri and is adorned with faded gold-leaf paintings of mythological figures and scenes. The footprints of Maharaja and Moosi Rani are engraved in marble inside the cenotaph, and locals pay their respects to them."



Near the chhatri, there’s a large water reservoir with a magnificent view. The place is peaceful and relaxing, and I stay here for a while, contemplating and daydreaming before heading back to the hotel for some well-deserved rest. The Wi-Fi is working now. I’m the only foreign guest, and since my room is near the entrance, I’ll be well taken care of throughout my stay.

Saturday, November 5th This really quiet hotel is in a little alley where you can’t hear any traffic noise. After a good night’s sleep and a nice breakfast, I’m ready for another day of exploring. Before leaving, Gaju, who doesn’t have a shower in his room, asks to use my bathroom.

We set off around 9 AM, and to start the day, we head to the Tatarpur Fort on the way to Neemrana. This 450-year-old fort sits on the edge of the Aravalli ravines, perched on a hilltop overlooking the village and offering a beautiful view of the rolling landscapes.



Today, the fort is abandoned. Most of the building is in poor condition, but the temple still welcomes devotees.





Entrance to a haveli house in the village.



We hit the road again for Neemrana. The fort has been turned into a hotel, and visits are allowed for a fee (500 Rs—still a bit pricey), and you can even have lunch there.



I explore it at my own pace, wandering from courtyard to courtyard, past private pools, and no one seems to mind my presence.



I walk through a reception hall and head toward the exit.



Since I haven’t eaten lunch, a little restaurant near the parking lot does the trick with an aloo paratha and a chai. We get back in the car to head to the Bawdi Deep Water Stepwell, though I could’ve easily walked there. (I’m not sure if I’ll like having a driver follow me everywhere, but for visiting isolated villages, I don’t have much choice.)



This one is impressive.

A really warm encounter.



The first selfie sessions are off to a great start. We return to Alwar after a peaceful and enjoyable day. I have dinner at the hotel and spend some time with the young people playing in the courtyard—I’m the only guest tonight.

Sunday, November 6th. At 9 AM, we head to Rajgarh, a 1-hour drive. The village we pass through is lively, and the main street is quite narrow—you’ve got to stay alert. I hope we’ll come back this way because I’d love to wander around this street, but for now, Gaju isn’t planning to drop me off. The climb up to the fort is a bit steep, and our visit draws curious onlookers. The fort is imposing, and through the mist, you can make out the great wall. The young guys on motorbikes who came to meet us tell us the fort has been closed and abandoned for 10 years. Luckily, Christine sent me photos of a beautiful *baori*, so all we have to do is find it. The young guys don’t know it, but some elderly men sitting on a bench explain the way to Gaju—the photos really helped us track it down. We don’t go back through town; the road is wider and faster. Gaju parks near a tea shop that points us to the *baori*, which is just 200 meters from the road, right after the railway tracks.

The entrance to this *baori* looks like a *haveli* temple.



The dome at the entrance is covered in paintings of Krishna, Radha, and dancers.



This stunning entrance hides the *baori*, which is actually quite imposing. It’s truly a hidden gem, and I’m so grateful Christine gave me the tip. As I walk around, I spot two *chhatris* on either side of the *baori*. I need to find the stairs—I’m barefoot, and it’s not exactly clean, but nothing’s going to stop me.



From here, I can see the *chhatri*.



The *chhatri* is on a platform, and as I reach it, I spot the second one, hidden by a tree. The craftsmanship is so delicate—I love these discoveries.



Curiosity leads me to the hidden one, and I’m extra careful where I step.



This one is even more beautiful, with all the Krishna paintings—just extraordinary.



*Chhatris* (or cenotaphs) are very common in India, and the royal ones are often stunning. *Chhatris* are pavilion-like structures with square domed roofs, typical of Indian architecture. They symbolize pride, honor, and commemoration in Rajput architecture in Rajasthan. You’ll find them in palaces, fortresses, or marking funerary sites.



I go back to find Gaju and suggest he check out the *chhatris*. He goes quickly and comes back with photos on his phone—he’s just as happy to have discovered this treasure.

I’ve noted the exact location to find it more easily: 6JH6+RX, RJ SH 25, Shreenagar, Rajasthan.

Hi Marie Jo

An unusual Rajasthan for me too 😉 I see you're traveling solo. Is that the case? Sometimes you say "we," but I assume you mean the driver.

You got it!🤗 I always travel solo and I never get bored.😊🤙

Well, Marie Jo, you sure don’t slow down 😉 No sooner is one travel journal finished than here’s another one I’ll be following too. Right now, India’s front and center on VF 🙂

Thanks Isabelle! Yep, I’m on a roll—I’ve got several to post before my next trip… to India again, of course!!! The itinerary’s pretty much locked in!! It’ll be off the beaten path. And no time to waste.

We head back to the car and drive off to another discovery. We continue on this beautiful road, and at the first intersection, we turn left toward Sariska. Once we arrive in Sariska, the road turns into a rough track, and we pass cars and trucks loaded with Indians who wave enthusiastically as we cross paths. This track leads us to the Neelkhand Mahadev Temple. It’s a group of temples scattered in nature among the fields. The first, the most imposing, has beautifully carved columns inside. The complex was built between the 6th and 9th centuries.





I walk past a platform occupied by curious little temples shaped like mushrooms.



I follow a group of women heading toward the ruins after stopping by the well.



Farther on, more ruined temples and a Jain statue.



The landscapes are green and rolling—it’s beautiful and peaceful.



This shelter isn’t just for napping—it’s also used to watch for wild animals that come into the crops. We spot them in all the fields along the road.



A woman works in her field.



A souvenir photo before we leave—and I’m the only one who blinks, while they’re proud to pose.



It’s 3 PM, time to head back and find a little restaurant. On the way back, Gaju asks if he can go home—it’s a 1.5-hour drive from Alwar, and his brother’s wedding is today. He’ll come pick me up tomorrow around 9 AM, and we’ll leave Alwar.

Monday, Nov 7 Gaju arrives after 9 AM, and we leave Alwar without delay. We take the scenic route to Bharatpur, heading toward Deeg and making a detour to Kaman—a little-known town with rough roads. In this region, cotton has just been harvested. The cotton branches are bundled along the roadsides and will be collected as needed for cooking fires or lamps.

Driving through Kaman is quite a challenge—narrow streets, cows on the sides, and we even follow a tractor doing garbage collection at a snail’s pace.



While planning my trip, I came across a blog that made me want to visit the Charasi Khamba Mosque, built using pillars from Hindu temples. This mosque stands on a vacant lot on the outskirts of town. Chaurasi Khamba is a small mosque compared to the one in Mandu (Madhya Pradesh). So if you’re not familiar with M.P. and love unusual places, this one’s for you.



The temple pillars are arranged in colonnades on three sides.



The western wall features the mihrab (an architectural niche indicating the qibla) and a minbar (a staircase-like pulpit). Here, it designates the king’s throne seat. In the corner of the prayer hall, there’s a raised chamber for the royal family or women.



All the pillars are richly decorated and completely unique.



On the way out of Kaman toward Deeg, a sign catches my eye: Vimal Kund. It’s a massive kund that reminds me of Machkund in Dholpur, where I’ll be in two days.



The women still do their laundry here, always in good spirits.



We’ve got about an hour’s drive left before reaching Deeg, where we’ll have lunch upon arrival.

We’re visiting Deeg Palace (entry is 300 rs for foreigners and 25 rs for Indians). Gaju is coming with me and really enjoying all these sights he’s discovering for the first time. Here, we have several small palaces and a large Mughal garden with a thousand fountains, which unfortunately no longer work today. The most important building is the king’s residence.



The marble palace is the women’s residence.





The floral paintings are made of pietra dura, a type of marble inlay developed by the Florentines during the Renaissance and later adopted by the Mughals.



Visiting this palace is relaxing and not very touristy.



It’s really pleasant, but it must be spectacular when the fountains are working. Bharatpur is just half an hour away, and I’m staying at the Iora Guesthouse, which is nice and close to Keoladeo National Park, which I’ll visit tomorrow.

Hi Marie Jo, Thanks for taking me back to some great memories—and as always, giving me ideas for my next visit! 😊 See you soon, Christelle

Hey Christelle! Yes, there are still places you haven’t discovered yet, but you’ve found quite a few thanks to that travel journal you posted on other forums and on FB. 😁 All that’s left is to take some notes! 📝😄

Tuesday, November 8 The morning is set aside for visiting Keoladeo Park. I rent a bike at the park entrance (150 rs for the day, park entry 671 rs). It’s a birdwatcher’s paradise, and I hope to spot a few. I follow a rickshaw wallah who’s guiding a group of tourists. They stop by the side of the road and head into the wild on foot. I tag along, and they wave me over to join them. Everyone’s looking up at a tree—my first discovery: an owl.



A little further on, an egret.



Monkeys are also around.



I hear a noise near a pond, and wow—a deer appears. I’ve never seen one this close before. What luck! The day’s off to a great start.



Then, a heron—maybe a Gray Heron.



Further on, the storks are noisy and everywhere.





A man comes to find me, motions for me to follow him into the bushes, and says "python, python." Wow—it’s right there, impressive!



Two more deer.



Two nilgai antelopes.

so, are you coming?



bats



cormorants and lots of other wading birds.







A real treat, the morning flew by, and I’ve got a meet-up with Gaju at 2 PM. I’m starting to feel hungry, so I head back to the park entrance with some great photos. We’re off to visit the palace (entry 100 rs).



A school just arrived—both girls and boys are wearing pants. This is the first time in India I’ve seen this uniform. A recent TV report covered this topic. School uniforms are now, and have been for a short while, the same for girls and boys to promote gender equality and equal opportunities. The little girls interviewed were thrilled to have more freedom of movement to play. It’s also said to change their behavior in class, helping them participate more easily and assert themselves better.





All the temples are closed today—lunar eclipse. A fruit vendor; this fruit grows in water. Along the road, I saw people in boats harvesting them several times, as well as roadside stalls selling them, but I don’t know the name and I didn’t like it—no taste.



Back at the guesthouse, and no sooner had I arrived than the rain and storm showed up, keeping me company all night.

Wednesday, Nov 9. I leave the Iota Gh around 9 AM—it’s a place I’d definitely recommend. We hit the road for Dholpur. I ask Gaju to turn off the AC since I can’t stand it, and I’ve caught a bad cold. He doesn’t understand why I want to go to Dholpur—he’s never heard of it and thinks there’s nothing to see. I try to explain, but it’s tough since I don’t speak English or Hindi, and convincing him to trust me—that Dholpur has some great surprises in store—isn’t easy. Thankfully, Google Translate helps, but communicating like this for three weeks is going to be rough. I’d hired Rakesh, his boss, because he spoke French, but I feel like I got scammed. For visiting the villages I’ve planned, I need a car, so Marie, just stay zen.

We arrive in Dholpur at 10:30 AM, and 10 minutes later, we’re at Machkund Temple. It’s a historic and sacred site in Dholpur. I’ve been here before, and it’s still peaceful and beautiful—a hidden gem in the region between Agra and Gwalior, and we’re the only visitors.

As we walk around, the sky is overcast after last night’s storm—too bad, but the rain has stopped. Gaju’s smiling again. He takes photos and thinks Machkund is stunning. He’s never had a tourist like me, searching for unknown places… and this is just the beginning.



We pass through the temple, and at the exit, a man tells me that photos are forbidden with a camera but allowed with a phone.



Back at the car, I point out the other discoveries ahead. We need to pass by the clock tower, built between 1880 and 1910, known as Ghanta Ghar. It’s looking more and more rundown. I ask him to park nearby so we can walk to the baori, but he doesn’t see it that way and weaves through the alleys searching for a parking spot. It’s a shame because I’d love to stroll through the streets and soak in the Indian life like I do on every trip. We end up parked near the royal baori, built between 1873 and 1880.



This baori has two parts—a circular one and a rectangular one—spread over several levels. Right now, we can only see two levels with intricately carved columns.



In one corner, a woman sifts turmeric and ginger, which will be used to make ointments. She works crouched down, breathing in the dust for long hours.



It’s beautiful, but a second one is hidden just a 5-minute walk away in an alley. We arrive at a locked entrance, but a man in a shop across the street signals for us to climb over the fence to get in. Okay, let’s go—we have to step over some trash.



The view from the top shows it’s also in two parts and looks even more stunning. The columns and arches are all carved—it’s truly magnificent. I hope it’ll be preserved; it’s so beautiful. On my last trip, I came back here, and it’s still in the same condition.



All along the corridors, I notice small niches in the walls. Women used to come in the evening to fetch water and would light oil lamps in each niche for light.



It’s lunchtime, and we head to a dhaba we spotted when we arrived.



We hit the road again for Karauli, where we spend the night at Hotel Shree Gopel (1500 ₹ including breakfast). I have dinner at the restaurant across from the hotel—a delicious malai kofta and butter naan. I spend a good part of the night coughing, exhausted from this cold.

Thursday, November 10 We’re in front of the Palace at 9 AM, but it doesn’t open until 10. The shopping street is lively, lined with little stalls, and the vibe is really nice. I walk up to a group of scouts— the girls are drawing a colorful kolam while the boys watch, amused.



A leader takes me to their meeting place to show me their bamboo creations. They’re waiting for the Maharani’s visit, which happens after I leave— everyone snaps to attention as she passes. I keep walking down the shopping street, where the tea shop is right next to the ironing man.





There don’t seem to be many tourists here, so I can take photos freely. Everyone’s happy to pose, and I’m having a great time.



Above one of the shops, I spot the façade of a temple, with the entrance tucked away in a side alley. It’s a lovely little Jain temple.



The women are chatting at the entrance.





I grab a chai before heading to the Palace. A friendly man comes over— he’s wearing a gorgeous beret but won’t sell it to me. He did let me try it on though, and I loved the color.

Gaju is accompanying me; the entry fee is 300 rs. We’re the only visitors, and a guard is showing us around. This palace was built in the 14th century, and each Maharajah added their own palace within it. The royal family lived here until 1938.



From the entrance, this palace feels extraordinary—the frescoes and sculptures are stunning.



The first inner courtyard leads us to the women’s dance hall.





Upstairs, a façade covered in intricately carved *jalis*—all unique and so delicate—I love it.



The gym and weightlifting room.



We continue to the section under restoration.





A room painted red seems older.



What a visit! The guard took his time, and it felt like a private tour—just for us. Incredible. From the terraces, I spotted *chhatris*—the Chhatri Palace of Raja Gopal Singh. We walk there; a road runs alongside the Palace. The enclosure is locked, and no one has the key. Everyone just says “close,” so I settle for admiring it from the fence. Too bad—not every gamble pays off.

We’re leaving Karauli with stars in our eyes—I loved this village and the Palace so much, it deserves to be visited regularly. We’re hitting the road for Dausa. We grab lunch along the way—palak paneer, veg masala, chapatis—and it’s delicious.





We stop at Bhandrej Baori, 10 km from Dausa. It’s also called Badi Bawdi. At the entrance of the bawdi, you can see a chhatri-style arch built above the main courtyard. There are four chhatriyas at each corner. It was built in 1789, is rectangular in shape over three floors, and has rooms on each level that were likely used for changing or praying. Some say this bawdi was built by ghosts in a single night, just like Chand Baori.



It’s magnificent and little-known—I hope this travel journal inspires future travelers.



Night in Dausa

Friday, Nov 11 This morning we head to Abhaneri, 35 km from Dausa, where the Chand Baori, India’s largest stepwell, is located. The well is 30 meters deep, with 3,500 steps leading down, and there’s a palace with several floors resting on pillars. Today, you can no longer descend into the baori, which is protected by grilles. It’s one of the oldest baoris in India. When we arrive, I’m the only tourist. Entry is paid—300 rs.





Across from the baori is the Harshat Mata Temple, the goddess of happiness and joy.



We leave Abhaneri to visit the Bhangarh Fort, 53 km away. It takes us 1.5 hours to get there—the road is in very poor condition. We pass through mustard fields. When we arrive, the parking lot is already packed with cars and motorbikes. Entry is paid—300 rs for tourists and 25 rs for Indians.

You have to follow a long alley lined with ruins to reach the fort.



There are temples and a baori within the fort’s walls.



It was built in the 17th century. This fort is considered one of the most haunted and cursed places in India. There are several legends associated with it, but two are particularly popular among the locals. The first legend is about a sadhu named Baba Balau Nath, who used to meditate here before the fort was built. He gave his approval for the fort’s construction on the condition that neither it nor any building inside would be taller than his house, and if the shadow of any structure fell on his house, it would lead to the fort’s destruction. The grandson of King Madho Singh ignored the warning and raised the fort’s height significantly. The resulting shadow fell on the sadhu’s house, leading to the fort’s downfall. The second legend is about Princess Ratnavati, who was very beautiful and had many suitors from royal families across the country. A sorcerer, skilled in black magic, fell in love with the princess. One day, while the princess was shopping with her friends, the sorcerer saw her buying ittar (perfume) and replaced it with a love potion. The princess discovered the sorcerer’s trick and threw the potion onto a rock. The rock rolled toward the sorcerer, crushing him to death. Before dying, he cursed the city, declaring it would soon be destroyed and that no one could live within its walls. The kingdom was later ravaged by Mughal forces, killing all the fort’s inhabitants, including Princess Ratnavati. The fort is closed between sunset and sunrise.



I’m the only foreign tourist, and some young people quickly spot me—photo time is mandatory.



We take the same bad road to the village of Aandhi, 28 km away, and it takes us 50 minutes to get there. I read on a blog that there’s also an old stepwell here in the village. It’s in poor condition and abandoned.

The street is lively, and tourists don’t usually come here. They call out to me for photos and love looking at themselves—the atmosphere is very friendly, with lots of laughter. They show me the products they sell, and I have a great time.







The road to Jaipur is good. I got in touch with my friend Ashok, who now works at the Ratangarh Palace Hotel, and he reserved a room for me. It’s in the same neighborhood as the Sunder Palace, which is closed for renovations.

Hi Marie, There are so many lovely travel journals about India, Rajasthan, and Tamil Nadu. These are very common routes, which doesn’t take away from the beauty of the photos and storytelling, but I love yours infinitely because it’s unusual, and I’m discovering your hidden gems with great pleasure. I won’t be going back to India. I’ve traveled through many regions—by bus, train, taxi, and even motorcycle—I worked there for months, and today, I have a little pang of regret for not having visited what you’ve shared so beautifully. Thanks

I’ve only been to Rajasthan twice, but it’s a paradise for foreign photographers. I was blown away by the beauty, though it was heartbreaking to see so much poverty. Your travel journal really captures the abundance of palaces and other stunning buildings, as well as the generally warm—sometimes even overwhelming—welcome from the locals. Thanks for taking me along on another adventure through these incredible lands!

Thanks Dom for your message, it really touched me. I’ve been traveling in India for nearly 30 years, always by bus and train—except that one time, and it wasn’t a success. The rest of the trip will still be full of new experiences 👫👬

Thanks Noëlle and welcome to the trip that holds plenty of surprises.

Hi Marie Jo,

I’m taking a break from the story to step out of the shadows and tell you how much I respect you.

I followed your journey in Cambodia and discovered places even though I was there a year ago.

Now I’m following you here—I’ve been to Rajasthan twice and read tons of travel journals about it, but I feel like you’re showing me a whole new country!!

Off the beaten path—it’s such an overused phrase, but with you, it really means something!!!

Hi Marie Jo, Once again, you’re showing us some amazing and little-visited spots! I love the baoris and the cenotaphs—those Krishna frescoes are stunning too. I’m happily following this new travel journal, looking forward to more surprises. See you soon, Gabriele

I should change my username to the snoop 🕵️‍♀️😄. As I mentioned before, I’ve been traveling in India for a long time and love discovering new things, so I spend a lot of time researching while planning my trips—and I still enjoy it just as much.

I hope my travel journals will be useful (I’ve done several in different Indian regions) because they all focus on offbeat experiences. Enjoy the journey—it’s not over yet, with plenty of surprises ahead!

I also love stepwells and cenotaphs, so there will be more of those. In Gujarat, there are some really beautiful ones (stepwells) too—check out my travel journal if you haven’t already! 🤓☺️

Yes, I read your lovely travel journal about Gujarat. You're right, there are some really beautiful stepwells in that region. I remember the stunning Rani-Ki-Vav, the first one we saw back in 2014.

"The magnificent Rani-Ki-Vav,"

I’d run into a group of French travelers on a package tour who’d only spent 20 to 30 minutes there. What a letdown!!

Saturday, November 12 I woke up very early and thought about what Ashok had advised me regarding my itinerary, which would allow me to save two days. From Jaipur, I could go to Tonk, then Todaraisingh and Bundi in a day—that’s a great idea. This morning, Gaju and I are heading to Bagru. I’d like to visit fabric printing workshops called block printing. Crossing Jaipur is a bit complicated with the traffic jams—I wouldn’t want to live in this city of 4 million people, what a difference from my village of 3,000 inhabitants. In Bagru, we had to ask several times to find a workshop, but we managed.

Two women are working in the workshop. Fabric (a future sari) is laid out on long tables. The women, accompanied by a cart with a tray of pigments, stamp the fabric along its entire length and surface. The piece requires six passes to reveal the final pattern. What tedious and tiring work—the block is quite heavy, and they have to tap it each time to imprint the design onto the fabric.





Upstairs, two men are also working in silence.



Outside, the dyed pieces are drying, and on the side, I find the dyeing workshop.



From here, we head to Sanganer to visit other workshops and see the famous blue pottery of Sanganer. Gaju can’t find any workshops and doesn’t like asking or searching, so we return to Jaipur. He takes me to Badi Bazaar, where I wander around for a while.



Here, they’re waiting for customers—dentists or tooth merchants.



A little hungry? What to choose?



We return to the hotel, and Gaju tells me that Rakesh doesn’t want us to go to Samode the next day. I don’t understand—he says it’s not his fault, but there’s a problem with the car. It’s not very clear. I’ll sleep on it. Samode is 45 km from Jaipur, and it takes 50 minutes to get there. I’ll take a bus—I’m not letting this get to me. Ashok will be there tomorrow morning, and he’ll quickly find a solution.

Here, they wait for customers—dentist or tooth merchant

A little hungry? What to choose?

I loved your sequence 😄

More seriously, the work these women do on fabrics is incredible. In Jaipur, I couldn’t resist buying one of these “stamps.” Maybe it’ll come in handy someday 😇

In Jaipur, I couldn’t resist the temptation to buy one of those "stamps." Maybe it’ll come in handy someday

I can’t wait to check out the Sari of Béziers on my next visit! [;]

I’m still following you with great interest, Marie Jo. Since I don’t know India at all—neither the south nor the north—everything is a discovery for me. I can imagine how frustrating it must be to have a driver who doesn’t respond to what you want, especially since you’re more used to being 100% independent. It’s awesome to visit the fabric workshops—I really love those photos 🙂

Gorgeous, it makes you want to go...

In Jaipur, I couldn’t resist the temptation to buy one of those “stamps.” Maybe it’ll come in handy someday

I can’t wait to check out the Sari of Béziers on my next visit! 😉

On my first trip to India, I bought some stamps, and they’ve been sitting in a closet ever since. If you need them, Kate, for more designs, don’t hesitate—I don’t live too far from Béziers, and I’d be happy to drop them off for you 😉

thanks, and if you like my photos too 😛 wait for the rest with my driver.......my trip will end really well😏

Thanks Hubert and welcome to India.

Sunday, Nov 13. At the hotel exit, Gaju is there and comes to tell me he’s sorry but Rakesh doesn’t want him to accompany me to Samode. The reason isn’t really clear, and I don’t want to ruin my day. I go meet Ashok, who also doesn’t understand and says, "No possible, no it’s India," and that it’s not right—this driver isn’t good. I ask if I can go to Samode by bus, but it’s very complicated—no direct bus, and it’s not easy. He’s free and offers to take me there. We agree, and off I go with Ashok.

The car is less comfortable, but he’s much more pleasant. He jokes, tells me about his family. Traffic is smooth, and we arrive in Samode after an hour’s drive. He drops me off in the village because the haveli houses are magnificent. I approach a beautiful façade, and the owner invites me into the courtyard. I realize it’s a guesthouse. He shows me the refined paintings, all different from one another. He’s very kind and welcoming. I had asked for a quote, but he exaggerated the price, which was for an Innova for 3 or 4 people, and I’m alone.





I continue along the road lined with a chhatri temple. A woman comes to do her puja, and I stay by her side, watching without disturbing her.



This village is surprising with all these havelis, and it’s peaceful. It feels good to walk around calmly without fearing getting run over at every step.





I continue my visit to the Palace. I don’t know if Gaju would’ve let me walk like this in the street. Since the start, I’ve been visiting beautiful places. The car is comfortable, and it’s easier, especially for getting to villages, but something’s missing—the little spark that makes a trip special. I notice that with Ashok, the approach is different. He immediately looks for little things to make me happy, and with his humor, I think I got unlucky with that driver. It’s really surprising that after being a driver in Rajasthan for over 15 years, he doesn’t know anything and doesn’t have that little magic that adds so much to the journey.



I meet Ashok in the palace parking lot. He’s waiting there, and I go to the entrance, where several guards ask what I’m doing there. They tell me the Palace is closed to visitors today—it’s reserved for a wedding. Seeing my disappointment, two of them call and discuss, but the answer is no. Well, when it doesn’t work, it doesn’t work…

We head back to Jaipur, and he takes me to lunch at a dhaba he knows well. The meal is really good. He had told me about a fabric wholesaler and takes me there. It’s a big shop, and I find some beautiful tablecloths that will make great gifts when I return. Back at the car, he takes me to another shop across the road. It’s a perfume, spice, and tea shop. I didn’t want anything, but with all the tea choices, I couldn’t resist long. I stocked up for this winter.

We leave again, and he takes me to Gaitore Ki Chhatriyas. I’ve been there before, but the place is beautiful—peaceful and serene. I’m happy to return. Since this year, entry is paid: 50 Rs for everyone.



These are royal tombs scattered throughout the complex, resembling small palaces. Each structure is topped with a dome shaped like an umbrella, the chhatri. Some are in marble, others in sandstone with sculptures. It’s a place to visit, and I’ve never seen many tourists there.



I really like these cenotaphs.





We return to the hotel. Ashok shows me the neighborhood on foot and points out where he stays at the Sunder Palace, which is under construction. He only has an old couch to sleep on and says it’s enough for him. Rents are too expensive to have anything better, but he insists it’s fine. We talked about my failed visit to Sanganer, and he tells me there are big factories there employing over 300 people. He’ll take me next time. I tell him about my plans for the next day. He’ll try to talk to Gaju to make sure he takes me where I need to go, but after today, I wonder how the rest of the trip will go. This man is really kind. He doesn’t have an easy life, but he’s always smiling and tries to help those around him as best he can. He’s a beautiful person.

Monday, November 14th This morning before heading out, I settle the bill. Ashok waters the flowers and tells me, "I haven’t seen your driver this morning," and the car isn’t there. What’s going on now? I try calling him, but strangely, he doesn’t answer. I call Rakesh Choudhary, his boss, who also doesn’t pick up—it’s getting weirder and weirder. I give Gaju’s number to Ashok, who has better luck, and he tells him that he went home because his boss told him to. Ashok isn’t happy; I don’t know what he says to him, but things get heated. He then calls Rakesh, the tone rises, he gets angry, and hands me the phone. He thinks we’re doing too many visits—they were planned from the start. He gets mixed up, I tell him he’s dishonest, that he’s not being fair, I call them scammers, and say I’ll give them bad press.

Two days later, I see photos of Gaju on Facebook with a French couple, and that really confirms the driver’s dishonesty. I send them a message, but strangely, I don’t get a response.

After this bad news, I’m a bit shaken and need to react quickly to reorganize the rest of the trip. I’ll take the local buses I was missing a bit—the visits to the small villages are done, so I shouldn’t have too many issues for the rest of the stay.

Ashok wants to take me to the visits that were planned for this morning; he insists a little. Tonk is only 2 hours away, so we might as well make the most of the morning. He takes me first to the flower market, where I’ve never been before, next to the City Palace.





The vegetable market, extending from the flower market, is quite lively.



We head to Amber. On the way, I photograph the fort I’m not visiting this year—I came here three years ago. The two forts above this one are also interesting, with beautiful viewpoints, and there’s a stunning baori too!!!!



I come here to visit the Anoki Museum, which was closed during my last visit.

It’s next to the Panna Meena Ka Kund. This museum isn’t for me—it’s permanently closed. I’ll revisit the stepwell; it’s very beautiful and there are people there. First, I stop by the temple.



And the stepwell, the Panna Meena Ka Kund.





The visit continues at the Jagat Shiromani Temple. It was built between 1599 and 1608.

We leave Amber for the Gata Ji Temple, or Monkey Temple. Every time I come to Jaipur, I stop by here. It’s located about ten kilometers from Jaipur. Before arriving, we pass by a beautiful façade.



The temple has beautiful architecture in a lovely setting. It’s built from pink sandstone with sanctuaries and pools where Hindus come to bathe. Entry has become paid for tourists—100 rs + 150 rs for photos.











We return to Jaipur around 1 p.m. and have lunch at a dhaba. Ashok takes me to the bus for Tonk, which is ready to leave. I thank him for being there these past two days—he’s a little sad to see me go and asks me to keep in touch. I hear from him regularly, and he thanks me for coming to see him in Jaipur… it’s like the world turned upside down. I’m happy on this bus; I feel like I’m reclaiming my freedom. I arrive in Tonk around 4:30 p.m. and check into the Sheela Hotel, which is preparing for a wedding of three thousand people. What madness!!! The gardens are huge, with tents, food stalls, the gift on display—a 4x4 jeep—giant screens. It’s a Muslim wedding. In the evening, guests arrive and stroll through the garden while waiting for the meal. The music is lively, but no one’s dancing. Several fireworks displays go off, and I’m the only one watching. By 11 p.m., it’s all over—people come to eat and leave just as quickly.

Tuesday, November 15 Tonk I met up with the rickshaw driver who took me to the hotel yesterday, and he arrived right on time. He took me to the Jama Masjid, and we had to cross the city, which is just as charmingly authentic as I like. He navigated through narrow alleys—you really need to know your way. We passed a mosque, but it wasn’t the right one; the correct one was a bit farther down the road, and from there, I could already tell it was impressive.







What a marvel—I’ve seen mosques before, but never one like this. The brochure says: "One of the largest mosques in India, built in the ancient Mughal architectural style. It has four gates and four minarets. The walls of the masjid feature beautiful gold paintings and meenakari work." It’s one of the largest mosques in the country. Construction began in 1246 by Amir Khan, the first Nawab of Tonk, and was completed in 1298 by his son. The walls are adorned with gold paintings and "meenakari" work. The mosque has four gates and four minarets and is famous for its grand Minaar. (Historically, meenakari was only done on gold, but now it’s applied to other metals like silver and copper. The art of decorating metal with enamel, or Meenakari, was foreign to India and was introduced by the Mughals. Raja Man Singh of Amber brought Meenakari to Rajasthan in the 16th century.)







Tonk is worth a visit just for this mosque. How is it not more well-known? My eyes are already full of wonders, and we continue through the alleys until we reach the Sunehri Khoti or Golden Mansion, which only opens at 10 a.m. We leave and head to the Malana Abdul Kalam Azad Arabic Persian Institute, which is also closed. The building itself isn’t particularly special—it houses the world’s largest handwritten Quran and holds a Guinness World Record. This visit doesn’t interest me, so we return to the Sunehri Khoti. Each time, we have to cross the city. The Sunehri Khoti looks like a haveli from the outside.



The interior is magnificent. This room was used for poetry recitals, dance, and music performances.





Across the street, another beautiful building—the library—but it’s closed. The guard at the Kothi doesn’t have the key and tells me it’s private. Through the gates, I catch a glimpse of a marvel. What a shame it’s not open to the public.

We head back to the hotel to pick up my bag and go to the bus station. I’m not sure where I’m headed—it all depends on which bus is about to leave. The one to Todaraisingh won’t arrive for another hour, but the one to Bundi is about to depart. The choice is easy—I head straight to Bundi. I arrive in the early afternoon, check in at Bundi House, have lunch, and then stroll toward the market with a sense of freedom I’d been missing. What a joy to be in Bundi—this city is always so charming.

I settle on the steps of Sagar Kund, which is used as a public trash dump—what a shame.



I watch the local life, my camera always within reach.





A quick stroll through the market







Rajasthanis are always so striking



Sunset at Nawal Sagar Lake

Good evening Marie Jo,

You, the great lover of India, Indian women, and Indian men, you show us truly fabulous and unsuspected places (despite the condition of some monuments). Those smiles everywhere make me want to return to this fascinating country. Three reincarnations wouldn’t be enough to grasp its immense heritage. Thanks for sharing! Best, Michel

Wednesday, November 16th. At 9 AM, I leave the guesthouse without making a sound—everyone’s still asleep. I head to Garh Palace. I’ve known this palace for many years. The first time I came to Bundi, back in 1997, the palace was closed. A few years later, I returned, and the visit was free. All you had to do was sign a register, and the palace was yours—every room was open to explore, and you could spend the whole day there without anyone bothering you. It seems unbelievable today. Now, the visit is paid: it started at 200–300 rs, and today entry is 500 rs, which I think is excessive because I don’t feel the money goes toward maintenance. It looks even more run-down, which is heartbreaking.

This morning, I’m the first visitor, and I’ll only run into one couple during my visit.

Actually, this palace is a combination of three built in the 16th and 17th centuries. Alright, I’ll take you on the tour—Christelle, you’re with me!

We enter through the Elephant Gate, "Hathi Pol."



It leads to a large inner courtyard, dominated by the marble throne and the audience hall on the first floor, right across from the gate.



At the back, a small door leads to the private audience courtyard. The walls are covered in frescoes, though very damaged, and the pillars are finely decorated.



On the second floor, the rooms are painted from floor to ceiling.



A beautiful ceiling with Chinese inspiration, divided into petal shapes.



At the exit, you have to follow the path along the ramparts. It leads to the Chitrashala, a gallery of paintings in a well-maintained garden. You’ll find scenes of Krishna, portraits of Mughal women, hunting scenes—it’s simply stunning.









Afterward, a stop at Sathi Lassi is a must—it’s absolutely delicious.

Namaskar Michel. So glad to see you here! My advice: stick with all of us—there’ll be loads of surprises and unforgettable moments in the next few days ;) :P

"Those smiles everywhere really make me want to go back to this fascinating country." Go for it!!!

"Three reincarnations wouldn’t be enough"—don’t wait for them, we don’t know what the next ones will be like 😏. When in doubt, I’m heading back in a month :P

That’s what I told the cops who barred my access—"I don’t care, Marie Jo will show me around." 🤷‍♀️ I would’ve loved wandering almost alone in the middle of it all, but the surrounding decay would’ve saddened me too! I’m going to write to Neemrana to ask them to restore all this 😊

You’ve got some connections, don’t you, the fancy one! Not always hanging out with the country folk, huh?!!!🤪

I have to admit, for the price of an Ibis in France, I love treating myself Marie Jo 😂

Alright, step-lovers and everyone else too—lace up your sneakers and follow me... here we go!!

I head to the market and continue to Raniji Ki Baori, a stepwell built in 1699. Bundi is a city with several *baoris*. This one is the largest, with about 50 steps. This year, it’s quite full, so you can’t really get a sense of its depth. At the entrance, there are four pillars decorated with elephants. The entrance is now paid (350 Rs), and the price includes entry to the cenotaph with 84 pillars and the museum where Kipling wrote *The Jungle Book*. The ticket is valid for 2 days.



There’s a lot of water this year, so it’s less impressive.



500 meters further, I reach Dhabhai Kund, still free to enter—a stepwell with over 700 symmetrical steps. At the entrance, two *chhatris*.



I ask these gentlemen for directions to Nahar Dhunkki Baori.



It’s really pretty and not well-known, this *baori*.





The cenotaph with 84 pillars isn’t far away.





I head back to the market in search of a *dhaba* that’ll become my go-to lunch spot in Bundi.

" I really enjoy treating myself " and you're absolutely right, Christelle😛