Indian Rock Star

We weren't sure what to expect, or what was expected of John - as a local band had been hired also - at the anniversary party. When we arrived back in Jaipur we were treated like royalty - the staff were falling over themselves to serve us with anything we wanted - all paid for, along with the accommodation and train and airport transfers. Chains of marigolds were laid over the balconies and the pool (this was the nicest place we stayed at in India). An industrial strength fan spraying water was set up, along with a full bar of international spirits and wines - being able to drink wine for the first time in weeks was amazing.

Guests were to start arriving at 9, with supper a buffet which people began eating at about midnight or later. These were obviously upper middle class Indians - the women in gorgeous glittering saris or cocktail dresses. This was the only time I saw any Indian women in knee length dresses the entire time we were in India. The women laughed and drank and danced and seemed so much freer than the average Rajastani women I saw on the street (or not - I felt like women were often invisible on the streets of Rahjastan, which I understand is one of the more conservative States).

The band played several songs - western classic pop-rock using keyboard, guitars and backing music and then John was asked to play. As the wife in the audience, I was inundated by the men clamouring to tell me how amazing John was. They were truly blown away and spoke with passion about his talents and all wanted copies of 'his cd' - little did they know most of what they were hearing was Cat Stevens and John Denver. John played for over an hour at their insistence and for that time he truly was an Indian rock star.

The evening went until maybe three with speeches (which rivaled a best man's speech for embarrasment), cake (which was smeared on each other more than it was eaten) and dancing (bollywood style of course).

Leaving Kathmandu

So we have a lot to catch you up on. We last wrote from Jaisalmer, where we were about to head back to Jaipur for John to perform at a 25th Wedding anniversary party for the owners of the hotel we stayed at, and then fly out to the Andaman Islands the next day - a spontaneous booking to escape the suffocating summer heat. But before we get into that, we should mention that on the way to Rajastan we spent two glorious days in Agra, exploring the old city, the Agra fort and, of course, the Taj Mahal, which our hotel had the most magnificent rooftop restaurant views of. Weary from having just left Delhi, we decided to splurge on a car with guide for the first day, and we felt like rock stars being chauferred to all the main attractions other than the Taj. The Agra fort was really impressive - built from red stone, it had rooms for each of the 4000 women of the harem, palaces, courtyards, mosques and was fully plumbed with open water running through to act as a cooling system. It took us several hours to walk through. It was also here that we met our first kiwi - we weren't sure where all the foreign tourists were, but there didn't seem to be that many around for our first few weeks in India and it was nice to hear that familiar accent. We only met one other kiwi the rest of our India leg - and he grew up in Manaia - on the coromandel peninsular about 30 minutes up the road from my home town!

We went to the Taj at dawn, although the sunrise itself wasn't particularly impressive. The building is as beautiful as it is made out to be. Pure in its perfect symmetry. Creamy and glistening. Gigantic. It's only when you get up close when you realise how impressive it is, and then you lose the whole as you can only take in small portions. Photographs are almost useless. It was built as a shrine for the favourite wife of a great ruler - the guides call it the greatest monument to love, but to me it is too austentatious for the simplicity of love and seems more like a monument to self. The ruler was intending to have a mirror image built in black stone across the river, but the son imprisoned him in the palace in agra fort overlooking his creation, as to build it would have bankrupted the kingdom.

Later we wandered - the old city is charming with ancient brick buildings and haphazard paved and crumbling streets that wind without exit for several kilometers (which can lose its charm quite quickly in the heat of the day). Back out on the tourist strip the rickshaw drivers are relentless and seem confused when you reply "for a walk" to "where are you going". Some followed us for over 30 minutes at a time. The shop owners were also some of the most active we came across - but one we were particularly amused by, yelling "give us your money" as we walked past - at least he was honest.