PUSHKAR, INDIA

This was my first journey in one of the Shatabti Express trains. These are the most expensive trains in India (although they are still cheap) and they connect most of the state capitols with daytime routes. Almost every other long distance train in India is an overnight service even though only a small percentage of riders can afford sleeper cars on those trains. The 7-hour journey costs about $14 in normal class and double that in first class. I was told normal class was very comfortable and it was. The seats were large enough that only 5 of them fit across the train’s width. I was lucky enough to have a front row and this meant I had a few extra feet of legroom. They also serve tea several times on the way where each person gets his own thermos of water and tea bags and such. A complimentary lunch is also served so really this is airline service and it was one of the few things I wasn’t disappointed with in India.

The only truly awful part of the trip was during the first two hours of the journey I was watching the scenery out the window. Just outside the city proper we went through a giant area of people living in makeshift housing along the train tracks. Basically they were living in plywood shacks that were tiny. The disgusting part actually was just outside these crowded slums were some open areas and I saw literally dozens of area residents crouching down taking craps right out in the open while the train passed just a few yards away. These people lived like animals, or probably how Europeans lived a couple thousands of years ago, but far more crowded together due to over-population.

After those areas there was hundreds of miles of open desert. We stopped in the town of Jaipur and most people got off the train. I was thinking about Jaipur since it’s the capitol and largest city in the Rajasthan area that borders Pakistan, but a German guy I met in the train ticket line said he had been traveling for 4 months in India and that was his least favorite city. Also, I had enough of the big cities so I thought I should try another small town. The small towns in Goa were reasonably nice, but Goa is very unlike everything else in India, partly because the Portuguese left so recently.

The train arrived only a few minutes late to Ajmer, but this was just a transfer place to get to the small, touristy city of Pushkar (population 15,000). Ajmer looked pretty awful from what I could see, but the first thing I did was go upstairs to get a train ticket to Agra in two days so I could see the Taj Mahal without having to return to Delhi. The scene at the ticket office upstairs was different, but just as frustrating as in Delhi. There were long lines for the locals to use, but only a few people in the foreigner’s line. I queued up and other people fell in behind me, but still other people just tried to cut right in front of me and even in front of the person next in line to be served. I couldn’t believe how uncivilized people were. I didn’t let anyone in front of me and when one guy tried I had to sort of shove him out of the way and then get very close to the guy in front of me. People then started to cut in line behind me so the guy directly behind me practically jumped on my back just to let people know he wasn’t going to let them in. This was the foreigner’s line, but they all looked Indian so they must have been local assholes or folks from next-door Bangladesh or Pakistan. I can only imagine what the locals had to go through.

When I got to the front I had to fill out a form only to find that the next train to Agra was 4 days from then. I quickly decided I better buy a ticket back to Delhi and then do Agra as a day trip. I hated the idea of staying two more nights in Delhi, but it was better than dragging the trip out two extra days total. I bought the ticket and went outside to catch a taxi. I was met by about 10 drivers shouting at me that I should hire them, but usually when you say okay to someone they then quote you a hugely inflated price. This time I did a reverse auction and had them undercutting each other until I got a ride for a bit over $3.

We drove through Ajmer and I was really glad I wasn’t staying there. It was just as dirty and gross looking as most of the rest of India. Pushkar is about 15 miles away from Ajmer, but over some mountains. The ride takes about 30 minutes, but less than 10 minutes into the journey the driver pulled over to get gas. I found this to be a firm rule of taxis in poor-ish countries. If you take one on a trip of anything more than 15 minutes they will need to get gas and often ask for the fare at the station to help pay for the fuel.

Just before we got into the town of Pushkar I saw a checkpoint-looking thing in the road. There were about 7 guys, none in uniform, standing around a homemade gate. When they saw us coming they suddenly pulled the gate down so the driver would stop. Actually there was a driver and another guy riding along, but he wasn’t going to Pushkar, it was just a friend of the drivers. The driver then told me there was a tourist tax of 15 Rupee (35 cents) to enter the town. I had never heard of this and it wasn’t in my book, but the fee was so small there wasn’t any point in arguing. Other cars passed by unchecked while I had to dig out some change. It’s definitely possible that this is a real tax that was recently invented, but it was handled in such an amateurish looking way that I wasn’t sure. India is like that though. It’s cheap, but everything is suspicious and/or screwed up.

We soon arrived at the White House Hotel near the back of the town and I went in, but I had to literally climb over a cow sleeping in the shade of the front door of the hotel. The desk clerk was about 25 years old, but he was wearing one of those diaper-type garments. Pushkar is a holy city and seriously traditional and religious. At least this was exotic. I looked at a room and wasn’t too impressed so I told the guy I was going to look at another place, but suddenly the price came down and he showed me a nicer room. There was no TV or A/C, but there was this air cooler thing in the room that was supposed to be like an air conditioner. It was actually quite nice. Even though it was extremely hot it was also very dry and the forecast was for a coolish evening so I wasn’t worried. I put my stuff away and started walking around the town.

The focal point of the town is the artificial lake in the center and I was expecting a strip of souvenir shops facing the lake, but in fact you couldn’t see the lake at all. There were souvenir shops all right, but on the lake side were the holy Ghats where people cleanse themselves with some absolution ritual. Ghats are basically stairs leading down into the lake, but I was surprised to find that they were all blocked off by, I guess you could call them businesses that charged people to access the lake. They had nice marble steps, but this was very disappointing. It appears that profiteers have hijacked Hindu wherever possible.

The town was otherwise filled with craft stores and the like, but not really too many tourists. I walked all the way to the other end, passing about 10 cows along the way, and found a sign for a place called the Chill Out Lounge. I went in and heard some cool music and was immediately welcomed by a motley group of travelers. They invited me to sit down and we started chatting. There was a shaved-head guy from Barcelona who was dressed in a traditional Indian robe, an artist from Mexico City, a Japanese girl who spoke decent English and a Japanese guy she just met that spoke not a word of English. Later on we were joined by an enigmatic young fellow from New Caledonia (I didn’t even know there was an old Caledonia!). I ordered a yogurt drink called a Llassi and ended up spending the next few hours there really enjoying the mellow and strange atmosphere.

I had finally found an enjoyable place in the real India and was beginning to think the real magic and appeal was in its small towns. Then I got up to leave and had to retrace my steps all the way through town. I almost had to hold my nose it smelled so bad. I had to wind my way around the smelly and fly covered cows and step over their crap. Suddenly I was back in India and my feelings for the place went back to awful.

There is no alcohol whatsoever in Pushkar and I knew there was no way the religious family that ran my hotel would get me some. I had a forced prohibition, but that was okay. I had a tasty dinner at the upstairs patio of my hotel and called it a night.

The next morning I had a good breakfast at the hotel. I didn’t completely realize it until I asked when I checked out, but the restaurant on the 5th story terrace on top of the restaurant is completely run by the 8-year-old brother of the diaper guy. Either that or it was his son, I never found out or even cared. He came over to get the orders from the customers, but he insisted that the customer write the order out, in full, on his pad. I later figured out this was because these slips are used to figure out the total bill upon check out since you aren’t asked to pay for anything until you leave. He makes good breakfasts and traditional Indian food too. I was really impressed with this kid. I met a Swiss girl at breakfast and I saw her several more times. We chatted a lot about our travels, but it was pretty obvious that we had very different tastes so I never invited her to go touring with me.

I walked around town a bit more and decided the only enjoyable place was the Chill Out Lounge. I knew my friends from the previous day would be there again so I just marched over there and spent the day more or less the same way as before. Instead of the downstairs courtyard we sat on the rooftop terrace and I had some very interesting conversations with the guy from Mexico, who is an unemployed advertising artist and used to work for Gray Advertising. I have worked close to that industry so we had a lot to talk about. As the evening approached I wanted to check out one other place called the Sunset Café.

I had read in my book and heard from people that the Sunset Café is quite a scene as the sun is setting over the lake. I walked over there and immediately some religious guy wanted me to pay some fee for being near the lake. I had heard they do this to everyone and then give you a ribbon to wear on your wrist so you only have to pay once, but I hate stuff like that. These guys were just intimidating tourists into giving them money in the name of religion, but there is no way the money was going to the church itself. I walked away and the guy backed off a bit. I took a seat at one of the outdoor tables at the Sunset Café and found the place to be wonderful. I could finally see the actual lake and I realized the entire thing is bordered by these for-profit Ghats except the part that faces the Sunset Café. I ordered a few cups of tea and then dinner. Some drummers were doing some traditional numbers and they were pretty good. When someone came round to collect for them I happily gave a pretty large tip as I frequently pay musicians who I like.

That morning I discovered my hotel could buy me a train ticket for a reasonable price. I was heading back to Delhi the next day and I needed to get a ticket to Agra for that morning and a ticket back that evening. If I couldn’t get a ticket it would probably mean leaving India after 13 days without seeing its most famous landmark, the Taj Mahal. Fortunately the hotel came through and the ticket was waiting for me when I got back that evening. They actually have a service in Ajmer that evidently sends a boy to the train station across the street and the boy goes in some special line that is available to services like this that bribe the employees and can quickly get a ticket. Then they somehow deliver it 15 miles away to a hotel in Pushkar. The fee for this service was less than $2 per ticket so it was easily worth it, but once again this showed me how screwed up India is.

The next morning I had another great breakfast at the rooftop restaurant. My train to Delhi wasn’t until late afternoon, but I had to check out by 11 a.m. I did so and stored my bags and then wandered around town a bit more. I had lunch at a very nice place on the main street that had a view of the Ghats from its rooftop restaurant and then I went down to hang out at the Chill Out Lounge one last time. The Barcelona guy was the only one there and he was still wearing his traditional Indian outfit. The funniest thing about that is while almost all Indian women wear traditional outfits almost no Indian men do. The men are all dressed like westerners, even in this holy town. This means that this white guy from Barcelona stood out like a sore thumb far worse than I did, but he wasn’t alone. I discovered a small sub-culture of westerners who visit Pushkar (just like my English friend David I met in Goa) who awkwardly try to adopt Hinduism, but in a really phony and ridiculous way. If they are happy then that is all that’s important.

I had arranged for a taxi to the train station for the late afternoon so I walked back to my hotel to get my bags. I arrived at the station early, but was soon on my way back to Delhi.

You can’t really even count Goa as part of India, but Goa was an empty resort anyway. Otherwise I actually did find some charm in Pushkar. I was thinking ahead to my two nights in Delhi and one day in Agra as sort of a necessary chore, but overall I found things to like about Pushkar. It’s still quite dirty and the cow situation helps to make it disgusting, but I had much less hostility toward Pushkar. I can see now why Rajasthan is a tourist magnet for the backpacking set. I would recommend any traveler to India to minimize his time in the big cities and spend time exploring the small towns of this region instead.