Hmmmmmmmmm where do I start?
We were up at sparrowfart (or for those of you offended by the word fart .. let’s try sparrowflatulence or sparrowwind) ... yeahhhhh sparrowwind, I like it. If you still don't know what I'm talking about the pic below should give it away!
It was bloody early and still dark!
Now, I surprised myself by actually managing to pack light AND, despite the fact we’ve been told our tent did have electricity and a bathroom (oh yeah???) I resisted the urge to pack my hairdryer (turned out someone else did so that was ok, well woulda been .... I’ll explain later). So James drops us off at the New Delhi Railway Station at sparrowwind and we make our way through the entrance. Of course before we’ve even got the lay of the land, there’s some dude trying to tell me I haven’t paid my “tourist tax” and some rubbish that it is a problem booking online blah blah blah! What do they say “if it smells like a scam it probably is”. I haven’t had my espresso, I hate early mornings, I have no idea where I’m going, the kids are still sleepy and I’m conscious that poor old Dean’s playing pack mule again, despite the fact that for a mere Rs20 he could have a porter (he’s gonna have to get over himself on that one!), so I’m grumpy and don’t care to be scammed at a time I’m usually still tucked up in my bed. So I argue loudly that I’m not a tourist and that, as I didn’t book the tickets I’ll wait to talk to the organiser and sort it out then. He tries in vain to convince me he’s kosher by showing me (rather quickly I might add) his id ... could have been a dental appointment confirmation for all I know (actually come to think of it, I didn’t look if he had teeth, it was S I X A M fergoodnessake!) anyway, we push past him and make out way over to the next platform and meet our fellow polo players!
Doesn’t take long for our train to arrive (on time) and the carriages roll past until our Shatabdi Express Exec Chair Class A/C carriage arrives. It’s not bad, has overhead fans, aircon, headrest covers and loads of leg room, even power points. It’s not long till Dean & Andy head off for a reccy on 2nd class (which the organiser tried to talk us into booking because and I quote “there’s absolutely no difference between the classes”). Returning from their reccy, they regret to inform ... it’s unanimous .. loads of difference and they’re not happy we’re coming back 2nd class.
5 ½ exhausting hours later we’re back in Jaipur, are immediately marauded by heaps of lil beggar children before jumping on our coach. 45 minutes later we arrive at Dera Amer. First sight is the polo field and some pretty impressive buildings ... no tents in sight. The brochure didn’t lie it was surrounded by wilderness, wouldn’t exactly call it a forest but there clearly wasn’t urban civilisation within the vicinity .. unless of course you count the whopping big satellite dish perched upon an old ruin! No idea where the lake got to!
We were soon directed up a dusty prickle ridden path to a bunch of tents that looked pretty darn good, well I had set my expectations extremely low:
And as you can see they each had an ensuite bathroom, complete with flushing loo but in only one of our tents! Well kinda sorta flushing .. imaginative plumbing gave it the appearance of flushing and along with a few extra bucket loads of water it did “flush”. Yep there was a shower .. of sorts ... a tin “bath” which was more like a big roasting tray with a shower head attached to more dodgy plumbing. Now I’m sorry but there’s no point teasing me with a shower head in a roasting tin if when you turn on the tap you get 3squirts and a trickle of water. Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t expecting a 7 spray massaging shower head with turbo spray but ... well forget it, I didn’t have a shower ... it was just too pathetic. But trust me roughing it is one thing, roughing it in filthy dirty putrid dusty India is another ... this is one place you most certainly need to have a daily shower .. even if it’s just to clean the grime off your feet!
Ok now I know I said in my previous blog that my idea of slumming it was no room service ... and yes we did pack a few bottles of bubbles to see us through ... but I honestly was going to see this camping thing through, weally I was. One night in a camp bed, in a pup tent, no shower, no hairdryer I was cool ... that is until Andy started bitching! (hehe hi Andy).
Ya see we had plenty of time to kill and, after my nap, we did just that, killed time sitting on our gold lamé covered cane chairs thoughtfully placed outside our tent (yes I said gold lamé!, this IS camping remember?) over a few bottles of wine ... while listening to Andy go on and on and on ad nauseum about how he and I’m sure he meant we ... could be in air conditioned comfort or by the pool at Le Meridien Hotel about 1km away. On and on and on he went but somehow we managed to soldier through his incessant whinging and did manage to convince him to stay .. big wuss that he is.
All the kids spent the afternoon shelling out Rs20 for camel rides and playing soccer (I refuse to call it football) and generally running riot having a fab time. And yes, as you can see Emmaline nagged me into submission and I too had a ride on a camel .. disgusting smelly spitty things that they are!
One particular camel developed quite an affection for Xanthe and she loved it ... she really has a way with animals.
6pm still light but dusk was not far away ... it was time to hit the polo field and mount our trusty grey saggy baggy steeds. We all waited with baited breath standing beside the empty flag lined field - when all of a sudden there was the beat of a drum, toot of a trumpety thing and then all the pomp n ceremony started ... elephants appeared all dressed up in their livery (as were the mahouts complete with team coloured turbans) marching onto the field, proud and triumphant ... us the audience gasping with the thrill of the sight, a lump was in my throat (hell why do my eyes threaten to leak with every amazing moment we have?) and camera’s clicking all over the place.
The umpire’s elephant was the most beautifully dressed and perched atop him was a silver carriage thingy with the umpire holding an umbrella.
The kids had an absolute ball riding the umpire’s elephant and throwing the ball into the game from up so high! Serita dared a peek, not a bad effort for one so little up so high! All the kids lefton the sideline decided to cheer the yellow turbaned teams (sob sob we were blue). And I have to say that was an experience I won’t ever forget .. I laughed my head off the whole way through, thought I was going to fall off every time I leaned over to find the ball, was embarrassed at my pathetic attempt to actually hit it ... you lose an awful lot of power from your swing from such a great height .... and giggled n squealed with delight when the elephant took over and smashed the ball with his trunk into the goals! By God that was fun!
Now for your information .. according to the World Elephant Polo Association (you think I’m joking? Here’s the link http://www.elephantpolo.com/wepa/rules.php ) ... there are some very stringent rules to Elephant Polo but I think the most important one is that “No elephant may lie down in front of the goal-mouth. To do so will constitute a foul” ... and the other one I quite like is that “men are only allowed to use one hand to hold the stick thing, where as ladies are permitted the use of both”. And just in case you were wondering, there are no restrictions as to the height, weight or sex of the elephants! Traditionally the WEPA does decide each team's handicap prior to each match and I think it appropriate to mention that next time we play Tatiana & Andy they will indeed be handicapped ... well actually I think he already is! Further, as the organiser clearly overlooked awarding the traditional Chivas Regal Award to the winning team ... I think it's only fair that we, as losers (oh the shame of it all 3:2), should award Tatiana & Andy some form of award ... I'll letcha know what we come up with!
he next morning we got up early for brekky before our elephant safari. Debbie joined us .. busting with the news she had had an overnight visitor in her tent, which of course scared the bejeesus out of her ... if I tell you it was a wild monkey or hungry man eating tiger it would make for a pretty terrifying story right? Well sorry .. it was just a cat!
5 elephants in our safari, 3 to an elephant (which was a bit squishy). I had an awful time with my driver who spent 1/3 of the safari on his mobile (Tatiana has a pic to prove it) and most of the time trying to catch up to the others ... way too fast causing a most uncomfortable ride indeed with me and the girls yelling “go slower please” .. clearly he hadn’t heard the Heide Heide Ho nursery rhyme (bet that gets in your head now!)
By 9:30am the kids were back on the camels despite an overnight price hike of 100%, talk about profiteering! and the adults were bored witless, we had nothing scheduled till 2pm so Andy finally got his way and talked the Duty Manager of Le Meridien Hotel into giving us a day pass to the hotel’s pool. The hotel drivers made a grand entrance, dust swirling behind their cars, striding across the polo field all dressed in hotel uniform complete with driver’s hat, grabbed our suitcases and get us out of there! Yep we bailed, we were now officially rebels ... with a cause!
Our afternoon was spent by the pool, us girlies had facials, the guys had massages, the kids had a ball and we were relaxed and in air conditioned comfort .. finally shut Andy up it did!!!!!!
2nd class train trip home was okish. Dean & Andy did another on board reccy .. this time of the kitchen and loos ... the loo being a hole in the floor of the train and the kitchen apparently defying all comprehension! We made it home by 11pm after yet another eventful trip and no, Delhi still doesn’t feel like home (will it ever I wonder?).
And if you were wondering, there wasn't any caveman like behaviour or fire starting with twigs (but there was gold lamé remember?) .. there wasn’t even a campfire or marshmallow roasting (how’s that for a disappointing camping expedition) and nor was there, much to my disgust, any Kumbaya singing.. talk about a rip off!
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