The first condition of understanding a foreign country is to smell it.-Rudyard Kipling

Take me away to a strange and foreign land and leave me be

Let me lay my head down upon the sand

We’re reaching out for something special our minds may never know

It’s the kind of place we dream of and then let go- Anonymous

Palaces, two century old Havelis, turbaned peddlers selling turnips,old women piling rocks on mules to transport who knows where, masala chai, samosas sizzling in a giant iron pot., and my favorite deity, Bheruji. This is My Udaipur.

After the hustle and bustle of traveling in Indian cities, arriving in Udaipur is a most welcome respite. Clean air, roof top restaurants, parrots nesting in scalloped recesses of restored buildings once the residences of the royal family.

If a picture is indeed worth a thousand words, come along with me as I walk through the streets of Udaipur.

First stop Gangaur Ghat- a holy place by the lake where locals feed pigeons in the early morning to insure good Karma.

Shopkeepers are starting to open their stores. This one specializes in brass and copper kitchenwares. I bought several from him in years past.

 

The woman in the pink sari in the doorway on the right is waiting patiently for customers.

The head of the household looks none too happy about the money he is about to spend on jewelry for a forthcoming marriage, but the ladies are thrilled.

Our feet are weary and we’re thirsty. A stop for chai at our friends Prem and Kesar. After one hour of playing with the grandchildren and eating too many biscuits, we are ready to move on.

I hear drums and see a long procession of women coming down the street. We change directions and follow them as we head to the ghats. They are celebrating the life of an elder in the village who died twelve days ago.

Over the bridge to the other side of the lake for lunch at a former royal palace,Lake Pichola Hotel, passing magical palaces of a bygone era on the way.

Lake Pichola Hotel

Time to go back to our lovely old haveli hotel, and pay my respects at one of the many shrines in town dedicated to Bheruji- a local deity favored by rural women.

Sitting on the rooftop terrace all the troubles of the world seem very far away.