It's nearly midnight. The desert moon is high, my legs are quivering and I have a big smile on my face. It's all thanks to a few precious hours I spent with my new friend, Mr. India.
Just to be clear... Mr. India is a camel. And he is my transportation on a 24-hour desert safari near India's border with Pakistan. My best friend and I are travelling through India for a few weeks after attending a wedding here -- and this is definitely the most rugged and the most memorable part of our journey.
Lyndsay Duncombe’s friend, Mag, hanging on for dear life.
Back in cold Canada, pouring over guidebooks and websites, the camel safari sounded like an exotic adventure. It wasn't until I was 40 kilometres away from my luxurious hotel room, standing in 43 degree heat, sweating a toxic cocktail of bug spray and sunscreen, that I realized my exotic adventure would actually involve getting on top of a tall, smelly creature and bouncing around for hours on end.
There was little time for apprehension. With just a few English words, our camel drivers (each camel has a driver who holds the reins and walks ahead) indicated it was time to hop on and get this party started.
Getting on a camel feels much like riding that boat at the fair that swings back and forth, without actually tipping you upside down. Or at least, that's what I told myself to justify how much I screamed.
You hop on the camel while the animal is perched on the ground. On command from the driver, the camel raises first his back legs -- which forces your body forward, then his front legs -- sending you in the reverse direction. After I stopped screaming I realized I was comfortably perched above the world, just like all the ancient traders who crossed the desert laden with silks and spices.
I felt that kind of sensation -- the feeling that you're getting an authentic glimpse of how people lived hundreds of years ago -- several times in this part of Rajhastan.
Jaisalmer is an overnight train ride from Jaipur, the western tip of India's famous golden triangle. If the Disney movie Alladin wasn't a cartoon, you'd swear it was filmed in this hot, dusty city full of winding alleys, where sacred cows meander under rainbow clotheslines. Tourism and the nearby military base fuel the economy here, but somehow neither the Internet cafés nor the uniformed soldiers disrupt the majesty of the place.
We arranged the camel safari through our hotel. Killa Bhawan is built right into the Jaisalmer Fort at the centre of the city. The huge sandstone fort was built in the 12th century around an elaborate palace. Generations of princesses watched soldiers head to battle from the very perches where we drink chai and read our guidebooks.
Today, about 2,000 people live inside the fort, and there are several hotels here. All those people use a lot of water, and that increased water consumption is eroding parts of the fort. The World Monument Fund lists the fort as one of the world's 100 most endangered sites, and some of our guidebooks would not list any hotels inside the fort for that very reason.
Wanting desperately to stay inside the fort, but not wanting to contribute to its demise, we chose the one hotel inside the gate that is lauded for its attempts at reducing water use. At about $60 a night in the off-season, Killa Bhawan is one of the most expensive options in the city.
The hotel is owned by a French designer and run by two Indian brothers. The rooms are lavishly decorated in bright silks, the pillowed window seats are perfectly positioned to capture both views and the breeze, and our hosts treated us like royalty. In fact it was one of the brothers who recommended we abandon our original idea of a three- or four-day camel safari, and stick to 24 hours, enough to expericince the desert while reducing our risk of sunstroke.
That was good advice. By lunchtime on safari day, our newly found camel-riding muscles needed a break, and it was too hot for the camels to carry us any further. Our guides found a tree, and from simple sacks on Mr. India's saddle produced a feast. We helped make chappati -- an Indian flatbread -- and gobbled it down with daal. The entire meal was cooked over a tiny campfire and when we were finished, everything was packed up and put back on the camel's backs.
Time out on a hotel balcony overlooking the desert city.
A tour of an authentic desert village was next on our safari itinerary. I was looking forward to it, because we had spent so much time in cities, and I wanted to get a sense of the unique patterns of village life.
But it was obvious by the time we waddled off of our saddles that those patterns had been disrupted frequently by rich tourists. Every child we saw asked for money. Every subject of every photo demanded rupees. It was tiring -- and annoying.
Later on our journey, I talked to travellers who had done longer safaris, which took them to villages far from the established route. It sounded like they had much more of a chance to be a part of the community for a few hours, instead of being hassled.
So it was a relief to feel the now-familiar see-saw action of climbing up on Mr. India and resuming our desert trot. By dusk, we had made our way to pristine sand dunes where we ate another amazing meal and enjoyed the warm beer we'd brought along.
As the stars popped brilliantly in the sky, our guides sang traditional songs for us, and explained their meanings -- usually about going into battle or finding a bride. And then someone suggested a moonlight camel ride.
And so we go, barely able to see three feet in front of us. As the camel driver sings, Mr. India picks up speed. The breeze is cool and the sand is sparkling. I'm sore, I'm covered in sand and sweat and sunscreen, but this is truly the exotic adventure I'd hoped for.
Lyndsay Duncombe is a reporter with CBC's News At Six.
IF YOU GO:
Be sure and shop around for the right camel safari. As soon as you come off the train, hawkers will accost you with guarentees that their safari will take your further and show you more . Guidebooks suggest several safari operators with good reputations. We went with Ganesh Travels - it was in the books and recommended by our hotel. We paid 1300 rupees ($30) each for everything.
Pick your timing. We went in late April. This is the low season in Jaisalmer because it is very hot (at least 40C everyday we were there). However - we paid less for our hotel rooms and saw far fewer tourists than if we had gone in December or January all the tour busses pull up to the Fort.
Bring water purifying tablets or chlorine drops. Our drivers brought us lots of good clean water to drink. But, when we poured it into our bottles, a few flies managed come along.
Bring figs or fruit for the village children. That's better than candies with wrappers that end up getting tossed on the ground.
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