Full Power, 24 Hour, No Toilet, No Shower...

...No Woman, No Cry, No Chapatti, No Chai, No Hurry, No Worry, No Chicken, No Curry, Don't Worry, Be Happy! That phrase is ingrained into our brains after the last few days, thanks to a certain crazy camel driver called Sunny...
   I guess I'd better start from the beginning. We both arrived in Jaisalmer on Sunday, expecting to stay just one night before moving onto Bikaner and our camel safari. Crazy doesn't even BEGIN to describe the madness that ensued when we got off the bus from Udaipur. There was even a police officer with beret and baton batting the crowds of touts away. Along with a fellow bus traveller, a Dutch guy called Art, we swatted them away as best we could, using our new favourite phrase, 'chello, chello!', with only a few stragglers running besides us as we marched towards our chosen hotel.
   The three of us had chosen well- this hotel had a pool (albeit green and reeking of chlorine) and cheap prices (after the old 'we'll be back later' trick). Of course, we were under no illusions about the hotel manager's kindness- it was all in the hope that we'd book a camel safari with him. But at least he let us stay- in some places, they kick you out if you don't book with them. Harsh. Our presence did seem to cause a little controversy though- a group of Indian people were shouting angrily at us in Hindi. This controversy extended to the hotel manager when we decided to go on safari with someone else...
   Ah, Sunny. I honestly don't know where to begin in describing him. I can start by saying he is possibly one of the craziest, funniest, chattiest people I've ever met- truly larger than life. If you've read 'Shantaram', he IS Prabaker. We should've known from the first meeting with him that we were in for some mental times out in the desert. Walking within Jaisalmer Fort, one of the only Rajastani forts that is still inhabited, we stopped for a moment when Sunny pounced on us, asking if we wanted a camel safari. When we said we were interested, he walked with us for ten minutes to a random rooftop, which we had to climb over the wall to get to. Hmmm. Anyway, we all had our crazy heads on and decided to trust him, agreeing to meet him early the next morning to begin our trip into the desert.
   We were worried he wouldn't show up, but he was there with his jeep like he'd promised. So we drove for 10 minutes, when we suddenly caught a glimpse of our 7 new friends on the roadside. It was then time for introductions: Isra and Krishna, the other 2 camel drivers, Ali Baba, Michael Jackon, King-Kong and Laloo, the four camels, and Kaloo, the black labrador. We quickly chose our camels- I went for King Kong, the youngest of the crew, Patrick went for the slightly older but no less energetic Michael Jackson, and Art went for the oldest, and most rebellious, camel, Ali Baba. Mounting our steeds, we were hoisted into the air and led into the wild prickly Great Thar Desert...
   There's something truly thrilling about seeing such vast scrubland on the back of a huge camel, even if riding it for a few hours makes your thighs hurt like hell! Although every day had a similar routine- riding through stony desert before reaching the beautiful, rippling sand dunes- each day had an undoubted highlight. On the first day, this would have to be the oasis we reached half way through the day. We were hot, just getting used to the camels, and desperately in need of cooling down. Then, out of nowhere, like a mirage, a pool of natural water appeared. One of the best swims EVER- so refreshing, so fresh, so needed! It was also worth it just to see Sunny flail his arms wildly as he ran into the water and fell in, belly-first!
   The second day was memorable was slightly barbaric reasons- the day that Patrick and Art finally became men! On the previous night, we'd been having deep chats with Isra, about everything from his unhappy arranged marriage to life in the desert. Somehow, the latter led to talk about killing animals, with Isra teaching the boys the perfect way to kill a chicken or goat. With sudden resolve, the two of them decided, after much moral debating, that it was time to become real men, and to put these lessons into practice. The repercussion of this decision was Isra heading off the next morning. Taking them by their word, Isra headed to Jaisalmer the next morning, and came back mid-afternoon with two live chickens in a box. This was getting very real. It was soon to get very real- sooner than either Patrick or Art would've hoped for. When we were in the middle of the desert, one of the chickens fainted from heat exhaustion; Isra exclaimed that they needed to be killed right now to save their suffering. If you're easily grossed out, I'd skip to the next paragraph at this point!! Climbing down quickly from his camel, Art pulls out his Swiss army knife, holds the head of the unconscious chicken, and slices it off. A pretty painless death. But there is the matter of the other chicken, walking around and clucking happily- and this one is all for Pat. Shaking slightly, he holds the head down while Isra holds the body, and...well, you get the picture! Except because this one still had a little life left him before he died, made clear by the desperate 'brk BRK' that escaped with the final cut, headless chicken syndrome kicked in. If Isra hadn't held him down, the body of the poor little guy would've been running into the horizon. Creepy but compulsive viewing! Pat and Arthur then held their birds upside down as Isra and Sunny stripped them down...the birds that is! ha! And, just like that, we had our evening meal, with sorrow in our hearts and hunger in our stomachs! What a dinner it was! One chicken was barbecued in a makeshift sand BBQ, the other was fried in a curry with chappatti and rice. Delicious. (Sorry if that was a bit too gruesome for anybody! And if it wasn't gruesome enough for anybody, then I will send you the video of the post-mortem twitching...gross...)
   Phew, it's exhausting just to relive that in writing! There were a few highlights on the third day...During the day, we stopped off in a gypsy village; these gypsies were travelling from Pakistan. As expected, the children came running up to us with the same demands- photo, chocolate, pen- but I didn't really mind. It was worth visiting to gain an insight into how these people live, with their homes little more than a few sticks in the ground covered with blankets. More than that though, it was worth it to hear an 85 year old Pakistani playing a puja- a sort of wooden recorder- and to dance with a gypsy girl that had the cheekiest, more adorable smile I've ever seen. She could move her hips so effortlessly- as could Art it seemed, who was pulled up to dance by the little dancer and consequently thrust his hips in a manic manner in time to a gypsy woman's warble! Pretty funny stuff.
   All these individual highlights made the trip unforgettable, but it was sleeping on the sand dunes that made it one of the true highlights of India. The approach to those sand-dunes was spectacular everyday- rolling hills of clean, rippled sand. I've never seen so many colours at sunset- lilacs, pinks and orange at sunset, then a cobalt blue as refreshing as that first day oasis. The sunrises were just as mesmerizing; on the second day, I awoke to the silhouette of Michael Jackson against the jaffa-orange sky. Of course, what is colourful scenery without colourful characters? And we definitely had one of those in Sunny! That phrase at the start of the blog pretty much sums him up, in every way- both in meaning and long-windedness! The man did not know how to listen, but luckily he came out with the most outrageously crude things- complete with actions! Without going into too much detail (I think this blog entry has been gruesome enough as it is!), let's just say that the words 'donkey' and 'banana' were mentioned often in the same sentence....I certainly won't forget him in a hurry!
   I can't finish this entry without giving special mention to Isra and Krishna, the quieter, but no less entertaining camel safari drivers. I felt a little sorry for Isra; as I mentioned before, he was newly- but unhappily- married to a girl he barely knew. This is of course the standard story for many young Indians, but hearing it from Isra's lips somehow made it more of a living reality. In the 3 months they had been together, he said they had only spent 3 hours together. Krishna could not speak English, but it was clear he could speak camel-language; he always had them wrapped around his little finger with his random clicks and 'ha' sounds, especially his favourite, Michael Jackson. Despite his lack of English, he was a jolly presence to have around the place, cooking amazing curries and always belly-laughing at Sunny's obscene gestures! Also the camels themselves had different personalities- Ali Baba was the grumpy old man that had trouble listening to Art's instructions, Michael Jackson was constantly hungry and passing wind, and King Kong never liked to sit down when he was told to. And I can't forget Kaloo, who acted as our guard dog, fighting other dogs off in the night but being as soppy as anything to us!
   So our safari came to an end this morning, and we have just bid goodbye to our desert buddy, Art. We're still in Jaisalmer, but headed to Amritsar tonight, via Bikaner. It will be interesting to see the Sikh Golden Temple; we've been told it's quite the experience. One week today until we leave India! These seven weeks have gone bloody fast, that's for sure...