Rickshaws and Monkeys in Udaipur

Flying within India is a task- not because the flights are bad (they’re not) or the security is diligent (it’s not)- it’s a task because once you pass security and need to find your gate, you have no idea what you’re doing. We were flying from Mumbai to Udaipur and the plane was delayed four hours, only, nobody told us. We waited around for our flight to be called- waited and waited. Eventually I asked the front desk what happened to our flight and he looked as perplexed as I did, calling around, asking several airline information desks. Eventually we learned that it was delayed a couple hours and we’ll be notified (untrue) of the changed. India’s difficult because you always have to be paying attention or you WILL miss something important. Udaipur, possibly my favorite city in India, is bigger and more exciting than people give it credit for. The City Palace is magnificent and we accidentally stumbled upon the filming of a Bollywood movie. After a few lakes rides, gem stone painting demonstrations, and temples, we ended the day at Monsoon Palace high on the mountain. Sarah and I hopped in the rickshaw and the rickshaw-wala immediately blasted Bob Marley, belting it out like he was an accomplished opera singer just eager to show off. After asking the obligatory where are you from, what are you doing here, he asked one question which no one had before: Do you want to drive? Before he could finish the thought, Sarah had leaped into the front seat and taken over. Amused, he quickly explained what each clutch/lever/gadget does and told her to hit it. Sarah owned it- fluidly navigating around the cows, dogs, people, markets, cars. We only almost-hit something five or six times, which is amazing considering the 500 or 600 possibilities to hit something, right? Then we switched drivers and it got bad. I had the mountain-way, and although it’s devoid of stray animals, it’s full of steep climbs and deep valleys with no seat belts, no doors, and obviously no railing on the road to stop you from plunging to your death. The rickshaw-wala, bemused by Sarah’s driving, became noticeably tense when I unexpectedly swerved several times, almost crashing into other rickshaws and trees. We made it, though, and the view at the top was as heart-racing as the ride to get there. Several langur monkeys guard the temple, and they guard it well. They chased us around the temple, very nearly biting our hands and pushing us off the mountain. But once we got inside and overlooked all of Udaipur, we were all silent for a good 30 minutes. It’s one of the few places I’ve been where the destination was just as incredible as the journey. - - - Aditi L