After seeing the pink city of Jaipur and the blue city of Jodhpur, we proceeded to Udaipur, known as the White City, passing the masterpiece of Jain architecture, the 15th-and 16th-century marble and sandstone temple complex of Ranakapur, on the way (pictures below).
Udaipur, the so-called Venice of Rajasthan, is a truly majestic sight, its palaces and temples gleaming in shades of white, gold or yellow depending on the time of day and reflecting in the calm waters of its four lakes.
Inside the town, it's a pandemonium of winding lanes, careless rickshaws and myriads of shops. While in Jaipur these were spread out in a multimillion city, this smaller town at times seemed to be all but a beautiful shopwindow. Walking in the town center, you pass a good hundred of silversmiths, tailors, and specialists in antiques. The latter sell windows with shutters painted with noblemens' portraits and portable altar-houses that open up like Russian nesting dolls to reveal smaller and smaller living spaces holding garishly painted Hindu idols. Thankfully, we were suffering from shopping fatigue by then--a common affliction for visitors to Rajasthan.
Inside the town, it's a pandemonium of winding lanes, careless rickshaws and myriads of shops. While in Jaipur these were spread out in a multimillion city, this smaller town at times seemed to be all but a beautiful shopwindow. Walking in the town center, you pass a good hundred of silversmiths, tailors, and specialists in antiques. The latter sell windows with shutters painted with noblemens' portraits and portable altar-houses that open up like Russian nesting dolls to reveal smaller and smaller living spaces holding garishly painted Hindu idols. Thankfully, we were suffering from shopping fatigue by then--a common affliction for visitors to Rajasthan.
The salesmanship, which tends to view tourists as a mangible commodity, would be annoying if it did not come with remarkable views and some first-rate entertainments. A highlight of our day was a program of Rajasthani dances that featured portly, majestic women doing feats of dexterity. One was balancing a receptacle that breathed out flames on top of her head, while another gave a masterful performance where she gradually balanced a total of ten papier-mache pots on her head in imitation of local villagewomen. All the while, she tap-danced on shards of glass, her anklet bells tinkling, and finally broke out into a spirited, dervish-like twirl, the column of pots towering over her portly yet agile body.
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