Rajasthan Whirlwind II: New Year’s in Bikaner

Once the whirlwind starts, it pays to hang on as Sarah and I hit the road from Jaipur for our longest cross country journey so far in India: 334km to Bikaner, in the midst of the Thar desert and only 120km from the Pakistan border. The good news is that The Centre (the central government of India) has been on a road building initiative over the last few years with a goal of connecting major cities with contemporary toll-highways. Fear not, though, cows and herds of goats and even camels and the occasional monkey are admitted free of charge, just to keep drivers on their toes. And drivers up north seem actually less aggressive than those down south, go figure. (No, we will never drive ourselves here in India!)

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So, after our stay at the exquisite Shahpura House in Jaipur, Shankar drove us out of the city and into the outskirts of the desert, with our primary question being where might we find western bathrooms. Not to worry, he told us, lunch would be in just a few hours or so. (Or so?) As the houses and buildings became more scattered, we noticed the growing presence of low, rambling, trees that reminded us of . . . Africa. It turns out that acacia tree seeds have been widely dropped from airplanes to hold the sandy soil and improve water retention. It all began when a maharaja in the 1930’s began what the British referred to as “rewilding,” but he dropped mesquite seeds from his biplane and those have created some issues in areas where folks call it “the mad one.” But as we drove deeper into the desert we passed turbaned shepherds and head-scarved women in stunning colors and we were reminded that since the land is so barren of hues, the people love to make up for it in their attire and ornaments.

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Once in Bikaner, we arrived at the Narendra Bhawan hotel, recently opened in the gracious haveli that had housed the last reigning Maharaja of Bikaner, who passed without an heir in 2003, ending the line. Btw, the city itself was founded in 1488, four years before Columbus mis-discovered the Bahamas. The luxurious heritage property has a one of a kind legacy of eclectic design and was a delight to wander, with its scarlet grand piano and stacks of Penguin Classics paperbacks nearly everywhere. Who knew there were so many?

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So, on New Year’s Eve day, we toured Bikaner with treks through the narrow market lanes and stalls, greeted by sellers and shoppers and kite fliers and strollers—and even a couple of goats–followed by more forts and palaces.

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We then explored more of the city’s Haveli’s—the ornately filagreed homes of the wealthy merchants who benefited from the city’s location along the fabled Silk Road—followed by Junagarh Fort, a rarity in that it wasn’t perched atop a hill. Initially completed in 1594, it was exquisite in its fine details and brilliant colors, and our guide managed to sneak us into a narrow gallery behind the audience hall where the women in purdah could quietly observe (and gently advise) the maharaja.

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Ah, but our guide also had in mind the Bhandasar Jain Temple where we met the man who was of about the seventh generation of Brahmin priests, and finally a couple more “just to look” ventures—one, the world’s tiniest miniature paintings, dutifully recorded in the Guiness Book of you know what—and the other tantalizing us with luscious fabrics commissioned for the Hermes catalogue, and where we once again yearned for restraint . . .

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But we did exercise enough self control to resist the offered 30km drive out of Bikaner to step delicately through a temple sporting 25,000 black rats . . . Or so!

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And what better day to face a challenge of restraint than New Year’s eve, when we were scheduled to celebrate with a couple hundred other guests of the Narendra Bhawan and its sister heritage hotel, the Laxmi Nivas Palace—at the latter location, actually still the royal family’s marvelous full time palace—just a few minutes from our own digs. Bring on the Sufi music and dancers and place us right up front at table number 1, of course!

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So, Sarah and I enjoyed our explorations and discoveries in Bikaner: welcoming 2019 at a maharaja’s palace, in the midst of a desert, dining on an array of Indian dishes, while watching and listening (and one of us even dancing) to wild, ancient music and rhythms. And next up, a drive to Jaisalmer where we would visit (and lodge in) an eight-hundred year old living fortress . . . and seek a bit of restraint, perhaps . . . ?

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