Rajasthan Whirlwind III: Inside the Living Fort at Jaisalmer

Can you think of the oldest room you’ve ever slept in? If you’re like most Americans, it might be a charming, clapboard house in Colonial Williamsburg–or out on Cape Cod–that was built maybe a few hundred years ago. Europeans might recollect a sojourn in a sunny Tuscan villa or a thatched-roof Cotswolds cottage a couple centuries older, but for Sarah and me, it was intriguing to learn that we would actually be staying inside a living fortress at Jaisalmer, known as the “Golden City,” for the third destination on our Rajasthan Whirlwind, especially after scrambling around the spectacular fort in Jaipur–the “Pink City”–following that long and winding climb over cobbled lanes and up precipitous stairs.

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So how old was our boutique heritage hotel, the Killa Bhawan, with its eight rooms and three terraces offering stunning views from the ramparts? The original fort was built nearly 900 years ago, atop a stony ridge in the Thar Desert, and the rooms we enjoyed for a pair of chilly nights were townhouses constructed on the rock more than 500 years back.

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The Jaisalmer fort, appearing like a mirage out of the surrounding desert, contains a royal palace and several ornate Jain temples. Many of the houses and temples, in both the fort and the surrounding town below, are built of finely sculptured sandstone, notably the historic havelis of the wealthy merchant class. The Rajput ruler, Jaisal, started the fort in 1156 and today it is unique in the world as thousands of people still live inside its walls. It’s also the crowded home to numerous hotels, guesthouses, temples, handicraft shops, restaurants, and the former maharaja’s palace.

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But don’t expect to take your car inside the gates, as most of the lanes are barely wide enough for the ubiquitous tuk tuks—and even at that, during crowded times, one has to wait in line until another tuk tuk exits the fort before you can start your spine rattling journey over the cobbles. So we had to jetison our car at the gate, transfer our luggage, and finally navigate what seemed a dozen narrow, blind, hairpin turns—all steeply up hill and by then in the dark—past hundreds of wandering tourists and dozens of colorful and assertive street vendors touting their wares, not to mention the ever-present cows. (The header photo shows their relationship with the residents—oh, man, that feels sooooo good!) At last, we stopped on one side of a tiny plaza, just wide enough for a few tuk tuks to jam in at once, surrounded by a handful of vegetable stalls and leather sellers and lassi makers, and even a sign helpfully pointing us toward, of all things, a German bakery. Our tuk tuk driver waved us out and unloaded our suitcases . . . Then hopped back in and drove off. Well, okay then!

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Fortunately, our Emma Horne Travel local rep stepped from the shadows and welcomed us, pointing us farther up an even narrower lane. Hmmm, where was the elegant sign for the hotel, the grandiose entrance, the towering mustachioed ghurka in a brilliant turban and fanciful uniform like the ones we’d had in Jaipur and Bikaner? We followed and turned up a shoulder-width passage that led straight into the open doorway of a house where folks were enjoying their traditional dinner seated on the floor. Sorry, never mind us! Then, finally, a couple meters past the diners, a sign, discreetly carved into the stone wall, about the size of a handkerchief, quietly announced Killa Bhawan, our heritage destination at last.

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Our rooms were tiny and of course of stone walls—hey, they’d been built for soldiers guarding the fort—but with plenty of stony charm and a wonderful view over one of the terraces out to the city. On our trek around the maze of byways crisscrossing the fort and the city, we toured markets and havelis and even a bhang lassi shop where marijuana was sold openly. Shhhhhhh. We did exercise a level of restraint and bought only a few leather items—not at the bhang shop, of course—and enjoyed tasty Rajasthani lunch and dinner on a pair of rooftop restaurants, one outside and one inside the fort. Alas, we never visited the German bakery! (I did fail tourist 101 even after nearly two years here and nibbled, against Sarah’s advice, a couple scrumptious morsels of street food . . . Nuff said.) Of course, our breakfasts were served al fresco on the terrace at the Killa Bhawan and were a delight, even in the chilly mornings at well below 10C.

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And as with each of the growing number of stunning locales we’ve visited here in India (okay, and Bangkok, Sri Lanka, and Madrid so far), the faces and smiles we encountered create a memorable connection with place and culture and, of course, with the people. Sure, we run into tourists—like the family from Denver we chatted with over lunch in the midst of their grand tour of India; and like the expat family from the US but living in Hong Kong who shared the Killa Bhawan terraces with us for meals and leisurely reading—and it’s always fun to compare experiences and impressions with other travelers. (We also met great folks from Mexico and Portugal by way of Scotland!) But we so treasure our momentary connections with those whose daily paths we briefly cross.

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Anyway, our Jaisalmer evening show included a lovely sunset view back over the city with a commanding view of the fort. (If only the sun had set a bit further to the north . . . ) A popular spot, we were greeted by musicians and beggars and even by a young Indian teacher/photographer now working in the Middle East . . . but who used to teach at AISC. He and I follow each other on Instagram but had never met. Tiny world! BTW, he got a masterful shot of a young fellow flying one of the tiny kites from that spot.

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Three Rajasthani cities in a handful of days . . . So how did they compare? What impressions have they left with us on the first half of our whirlwind? Sarah and I both agree that Jaipur, the pink city, felt . . . monumental. The imposing and gracious Amer fort and palace, the pink city’s Jantar Mantar and the Hawa Mahal, all truly awe inspiring and inviting deeper study. And we didn’t even get to tour the City Palace or walk the intriguing market streets.

In Bikaner, we explored our first havelis and were stunned by the incredibly detailed and lacelike carving. Hard to imagine how many people worked for how long to produce such intricate beauty. Of course, staying at the last Maharaja’s home and celebrating New Year’s Eve at the royal palace didn’t hurt too much either. Overall, though, we both felt Bikaner seemed more a typical contemporary Indian city, although we truly enjoyed our visit.

But Jaisalmer! Ah, the word for Jaisalamer can only be . . . Ancient. Sleeping and walking and dining in the mazelike cobbled lanes (even that word conjures too wide a space) and climbing stairs so high you almost need to jump from one to the next—to slow down attackers, of course—just takes one back . . . And back. It really is different to not simply “tour” a community with buildings almost 900 years old, but to “live” there even briefly. Yes, the rate of vendors per square meter might be high, but the feel and smells and sounds and tastes (do not eat street food!) convey one into what might immerse and convince like an extravagant theme park . . . Yet this is simply real, in all its stony roughness, something we see too little of these days, and it startles the mind into boundless wonder . . .

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So, on we go to Jodhpur and its own mysteries as we consider what it might hold . . . Other than those cute little riding breeches . . . But you know that’s . . .