Pushkar was a delightful little city built around a lake that is considered holy, second only to the Ganges river itself. The lake is surrounded by ghats with steps leading down to the water front where people bathe. In fact, Cheryl was even given a holy welcome to the city upon arrival as one of the local sacred cows gave her a swift knock to the butt with it’s stubby horns. I guess even Hindu cows lose their cool sometimes.
The city itself is very small and can easily be walked around. The street surrounding the lake is a market with everything from apparel, to leather-bound books, to food items and knick knacks. The market was very intriguing and Cheryl and I spent quite a lot of time wandering and buying items for far, far less than we would ever have paid back at home.
During one of our wanderings we came across a stand advertising camel treks in the desert. We signed up for a four hour trek and awaited departure. We started our journey walking with our guide to what appeared to be fair grounds and camel track which are used for the annual camel fair in town. There we met our second guide and camel handler. The camels were very tall, with eloquent smelling breath but they did have their own grace to them. At the word of the guide I climbed on top of one seated on the ground and held on as it stiltedly ascended to its full height (roughly 9 feet or so counting its head).
Our ride started with an exit out of town. I soon noticed that my camel was protesting an awful lot to which my guide told me that he had purchased the camel only the day before and was still teaching him to ride. Of course this didn’t make me feel that easy especially with the rather vocal taunts that my camel was constantly challenging the guide with, but mai pen rai (or as people in India do, they simply bob their head from side to side meaning either “yes”, “no”, or “whatever, I simply don’t care”).
The ride was actually much smoother than I had previously anticipated. The pace of a camel is not swift but still carries a decent momentum. The movement is languid and constant. In fact, the gentle movement is almost like that of a consistent swell in the ocean, neither impatient nor unpleasant.
Soon we were out of the city and into the desert. The weather was calm and the sun seemed lazy in the sky as it began considering its descent over the far hills. Cheryl looked so in place as she was wearing a scarf around her head recently purchased in the market by the lake. Cheryl of Arabia was away on her camel! Although Cheryl did lose her persona of the desert just a little bit when her camel rode her straight into a fourteen foot cactus bush (she was a little prickly about that one).
We rode some time before the sun finally set. The image of the sun was beautiful. I kept reminding myself that I was watching the sun set in India from the back of a camel. Some things just seem so unreal sometimes that they become surreal. Although the constant “aarrrummmmp!!” sounds of protest coming from my camel usually did the trick of keeping me conscious of the immediate fact of where I was. Although I would talk back too if my handler looked so serious as this fellow.
Our guides brought us to their home where we gave the camels some time to rest and eat whilst we did likewise. We sat with the farming family and had chai tea. They tried to convince us to partake of further services such as dinner and staying the night but we stuck to what we had signed up for and were soon on our way back to town.
The stars in the desert were awe-inspiring on the way back. I never thought I would have the opportunity to stargaze in the desert whilst riding a camel. I am glad that we took the opportunity to do the fun things that we did. I would say the camel ride was the icing on the cake of India but I would say it was just one layer of the many that made the whole desert so delicious.
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