Jogging through Jodhpur


We say farewell to our palace in Chanod
and it is all thrills and spills en route to Jodhpur. We manage to avoid most of the bovine population who wander indiscriminately across the "highways"; our driver Mr Manure takes this all in his stride.
Our hotel in Jodders is an oasis amongst the hurly and burly of the local street life.


The "streets" here would be classed back home as goat tracks but seem to accomodate a constant stream of peds, motor bikes, cows and tuk tuks. We are constantly having near death experieces and the Memsaab tried to throw herself under a passing taxi in some sort of perverted form of Sutti, assuming I had just been run over myself.
Stepwell






Old shcool ironing

Sweet production






Perfume bottles made from camel veins(sic)


I think these are the good swastikas




"What are you staring at, gringo"



These bad boys are delicious
Our guide today is Veer, who comes across as another arrogant Brahmin(not the bull variety). He likes to take us into shops where we can buy bargain goods for a mere 2 times what we would pay for in Australia.


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