Colombo 17 October 2024
Oopsie daisy!
I’m currently chilling in bed in “my” apartment in Colombo. I’ve left India and am already in Sri Lanka. Sorry, Ann, I’ve been really bad at both writing letters and updating my Instagram. And now I’m wondering how I’m even going to summarize everything, but I’ll have to give it a try.
I remember telling you I was going on a safari. At the time, I was in Ranakpur, and the jeep took me up and down steep mountains, through flooded roads, and into small villages. The ride itself was an adventure. Strangely enough, it reminded me of my childhood summers on the west coast. The smooth rocks, the sea- and wind-battered nature, the narrow winding roads, and the color of the sand. Weird how the brain makes connections sometimes because we definitely weren’t in Sweden or anywhere near the sea.
After some driving around, we eventually found what we were looking for. Leopards!!! To be honest, they weren’t easy to spot, but with the help of binoculars, I could make out the leopard mother and her cubs. Right below the small cave, a herd of cows grazed without a care. Strange, right?
From Ranakpur, we headed to Udaipur. The road snaked through the lush and green Aravalli mountains, and I got an amazing view during the lunch stop. After a few hours, we arrived in Udaipur, the city of lakes. It’s amazing how much water affects me. It’s hard to put into words, but everything feels so much better as soon as there’s a lake or sea nearby.
Anyway, when we finally got to the hotel, I sighed inwardly. Once again, it wasn’t ideal for me. Plus, it was inconveniently far from everything. Oh well, I thought, just have to suck it up. But my driver, who had started to get to know me, asked if I was happy with the place. I decided not to be the typical well-mannered Swede this time—you know, smiling and saying everything’s fine when you really just want to scream. So, not long after, we left and drove back into the city. Soon we arrived at another place. Stairs again!!!! I was carried up the stairs and shown to my room. I wasn’t sure if this was much better, but then Raj pulled out his ace and took me to the rooftop terrace. And all was forgiven. Next to water, I love rooftop views. When I was little, I used to sneak onto the roof at home and dream of becoming a chimney sweep. Imagine getting to climb on all the rooftops and look out over the other rooftops and wide-open views. And on this terrace, I could see both roofs and a lake. Bliss!!!
Besides the rooftop terrace, this hotel boasted its own choir of dogs. They perform concerts during the dark hours. Sometimes they offer other entertainment, too. Like the first night, when I was abruptly woken by a full-blown dog fight. Sound-wise, it felt like they were right outside my window. You know me and my sleep habits, so you can imagine the racket they made since I actually woke up. And I couldn’t even fall back asleep!!! So I Googled what time the sun rises in Udaipur, and three hours later, I sneaked up to the rooftop terrace. The feeling of being present as the day wakes up is unbeatable. So in some way, I guess I have to thank the dogs after all.
During the day, we visited a park and some sort of heritage center. Then we took a walk through the city. On foot! Yeah, I’ve figured out how the traffic works here now, and Udaipur isn’t a massive city, so it should be fine. Walking in an Indian city is an experience for all the senses (well, at least in the cities I’ve been to). Maybe it’s the sound that hits you first. The honking is CONSTANT. Then the sights. A continuous bustle of people, vehicles, and animals. Everything just coexists. Everyone fits in. Incredibly fascinating. And then there’s the smell. Fragrant aromas of spices and perfume can, in the next breath, be replaced by the smell of sewage. For that reason, it’s also smart to keep an eye on where you step—or, in my case, where you roll. Stepping in poop is no fun, but getting it on your wheel and then transferring it to your hand is hardly better. You also have to watch out for large holes, bricks, or other obstacles. I think I managed to avoid everything.
Oh my, this is turning into a loooong letter. You might need to read it in bits. After another night with the dog choir (no fights this time), we headed to Pushkar, an important city for all Hindus. As a Hindu, you’re supposed to visit this city and its lake, which is said to cleanse your soul, at least once in your life. (There’s probably a grammatical error here, but you get what I mean 😜) It’s also home to the only temple dedicated to the god Brahma (or one of the very few?). With the guide of the day, we wandered around the city, or rather the village, checking out various temples and visiting one of the 52 stairways that give you access to the lake. Then we continued through the maze of shops in the narrow alleyways. I tried the drink you get from sugarcane. They crank and crank on their presses until there’s nothing left of the cane but shreds. Then something green goes in—mint? Maybe a bit of lime and something else too. I didn’t see it all. But it was really tasty.
Lunch was at Amigo Mango. A lovely cool oasis with a beachy vibe. I’m going there again tomorrow. After lunch (or rather dinner), I decided that I actually wanted to make my way back to the hotel on my own. For being a solo traveler, I have to say there hasn’t been much alone time. Except in my hotel room. So I explained to a slightly confused Raj that I wanted to walk back. And no, I didn’t want him driving behind me in the car. A flash of sympathy for all the famous people with constant bodyguards briefly crossed my mind. I almost felt a bit rebellious and cheeky as I slowly made my way through the narrow alleys toward the hotel. Being a passenger or following in the guide’s footsteps constantly means I actually don’t have as good of a sense of direction as usual. Which street was I supposed to turn down again? I tried following my instincts, which usually lead me right, but quickly realized I was on the wrong path. I turned back and tried the next street. Now, it’s not like I go unnoticed in the village. There’s hardly a crowd of white women in wheelchairs around, if you know what I mean. So you don’t want to be wandering around too much. But what worried me most was the darkness that was fast approaching. Darkness is fine, but there was that thing with the dogs… Oh well, I kept moving, but at the speed I was going, I decided that maybe Google Maps wasn’t such a bad idea after all, to avoid wandering for too long in the dark. But what was the hotel called again? Wait—maybe there’s something on the room key. Yep, a little worn-out taped label at least gave me a clue to the name. A quick search on the map told me I was on a parallel street, so I found a narrow alley to get to the right spot. By now, it was dark, and I had to be extra careful of any holes or obstacles. I really wasn’t in the mood to end up on the ground. When I finally got to the “right” street according to Google, I didn’t recognize a thing. I saw a big, fancy hotel, but surely I would have remembered if I had passed that before. So I simply asked the hotel guard. I WAS right. If I just turned around and looked on the other side of the big sign, there was my hotel. Haha, I must have been so confused.
A quick comment on the hotel in Pushkar. It was a nice place, but the pool left a lot to be desired. It felt a bit like one of those abandoned spots my daughter likes to explore. And the sun loungers made me think of narrow hospital beds from some Eastern Bloc country in the 60s. Not that I’ve ever been there, but... At least I had the pool to myself for a while, until I got company from a monkey who glared at me. Apparently, this was his spot.
What else to say about Pushkar… oh, the next day I took another walk from the lunch spot to the hotel. This time I was more observant, and it was daylight, so it was easier to get my bearings. As usual, I didn’t take the most obvious route but chose a small side street. I like seeing things other than shops. At one point, a group of kids was playing. I saw out of the corner of my eye how they glanced at me, and soon a girl ran up behind me and touched my wheelchair. It reminded me of the scene in “Finding Nemo” where they dare each other to swim closest to the boat (you don’t have kids, Ann, so you’ll have to Google it if you haven’t seen the movie). Anyway, soon I had a small group of kids around me, eagerly and curiously offering to give me a push up the hill. Once at the top, we parted ways with smiles. I thanked them for their help, and they said something in return. That kind of thing makes me happy.
Over and out, for now.
//Kristina
