'Look! Pregnant frog!'

As soon as we walked into our hotel in Fathepur Skihri, we were made as welcome as if we'd been long-lost relatives. I think we might have been the only ones there, with the atention they were giving us! The food was delicious too- fried aubergine with rice, finished off with a crumbly yellow biscuit exclusive to Fathepur known as khataie.
   The next morning, we headed towards the ancient city, the capital during the reign of 16th century Mughal emperor Akbar. As we wandered into the mosque, it took approximately 3 seconds to be approached by a guy in a baseball cap claiming to be a government guide and 'wanting no money'. Our previous experience told us to be very sceptical, but he followed us around and told us facts anyway. Some were actually quite interesting- for example, there was a white-marble, mini Taj Mahal building in the mosque courtyard that housed the 'Holy Man', and Muslims would tie red and yellow pieces of string near the tomb as representations of wishes, that apparently had 99% chance of coming true.
   Just when we were starting to think 'maybe this guy is genuine! maybe he's actually doing a selfless act!'...the tour conveniently ended at his brother's souvenir stall. The little elephant ornaments were exquisite- latticed with two other elephants inside, Russian doll style- and I would've been tempted, if they hadn't been so forceful about it. When they saw that we weren't buying into the elephants, the brother suddenly thrust an ornament in front of my face- the final trump card. 'Look!' he said with a desperate urgency, 'Pregnant frog!'. That just about did it for me. Shaking with a fit of giggles, we quickly stood up and strode away, with the guide trying every trick in the book to get us to buy his bloody elephant. He even resorted to mild racism, saying that if 'I had an English boyfriend, he would've bought me the elephant straight away!' Actually laughing out loud now, we quickened our step and got the hell out of there.
   Needing a bit of peace after that experience, we walked the opposite way to all the other tourists. Out of nowhere, we found ourselves in leafy surroundings, delapitated ruins dotted around us with distant rolling hills that looked like they'd been plucked from the English countryside. We sat on the crumbling walls on an abaoned fort for a while, taking in this rare sensation of silence in India. It was so quiet, you could actually hear the birds singing! Of course, it wouldn't have been right if we hadn't had at least ONE beggar child- but even he was quite amusing with his demands. 'Chocolate? Coin? Shampoo? Boom-boom?' I presume the latter was meant to be 'bon-bon'- at least I hope so! You never know with these kids.
   Deciding it was time to crack on with our busy North Indian schedule, we bid farewell to Fathepur Sikhri and its pregnant ornaments, and became huge hypocrits by picking one up as a souvenir from another place! It was time to head to Jaipur on a six-hour local bus- always good fun, especially with a group of three jolly Indian men in front of you. Nothing much to report about Jaipur- got there at 9pm, couldn't find our hotel, went somewhere else instead that was a bit grotty, and left early the next morning for Sawai Madhopur, the home of Ranthambore National Park, allegedly the best place in Rajastan to see TIGERS! RAAA! However, as you'll see from the next entry, it was not the luckiest place for us...