A new experience for our early morning train from Udaipur to Jaipur – Chair Class only, similar to a British train layout but with all seats facing the same way and no tables for 4. As it was a long journey of around 300 miles and 6.5 hours, we treated ourselves to Executive Chair (EC) tickets – effectively business class and double the price of scuffer’s class but still only £17 each. We are really going to resent the cost of train travel when we get home – Indian railways offer AMAZING value. As soon as we saw the train we knew that it was just a bit different to anything we’d been on so far in India. Oh my word – our seats were more luxurious and spacious than anything you’d see on a British train, loads of leg room and they reclined too, and there was a table in the armrest and a socket each for charging the devices. Before departure we were given a bottle of water and The Sunday Times of India, and soon after we left Udaipur breakfast was served. We’d not ordered food but no problem – a tray with fruit juice, yoghurt, banana, parathas, curry and (porridge-like thing) was provided to us too but we had to pay – Rs 144 (less than £1.30)! We had the option of lunch too but declined. The journey was great – Debbie wrote War & Peace about Udaipur. The train speed, next station stop and distance were displayed, and before we knew it we were arriving at Jaipur Junction Station.

Utter chaos is the only way to describe it! Jaipur is the capital of Rajasthan and has a population of 3 million, so the station is huge, with lots of people and lots of trains. Finding our pick-up driver was a challenge but eventually we were safely in a taxi and on our way to the sanctuary of our hotel.

First impressions of Jaipur weren’t good – the chaos of the station, the dilapidated buildings in the vicinity, huge concrete flyovers, more traffic & noise than we’d seen so far in India – far worse than Delhi.

Debbie had come to the convenient conclusion that Jaipur was not somewhere we wanted to stay in the heart of the old city, but that we should have a more luxurious place outside the old centre from which we could pop out into the madness and escape to afterwards. Jaipur has lots of ultra luxury hotels, and they look amazing, but we needed to remember that we have 2 years of traveling to fund and not go too mad. Deborah Greenham Travel Agency played a blinder again, finding a newly opened place with just 2 reviews on Booking.com and negotiating them down to a price that didn’t have Steve yelping too much. Niravi Jaipur is the brainchild of 3 Jaipur sisters who developed their family home and added a new building and pool to launch a beautiful boutique hotel. What a fabulous place it was – we were welcomed by one of the sisters who put a dab of sandalwood on our foreheads and presented us with bracelets before showing us around the property and to our room. No detail was missing – gorgeous toiletries, crisp White Company linen on a huge and very comfy bed, sweet and savoury snacks, the first proper hairdryer that Debbie had seen in 10 weeks, and even a lovely handwritten note welcoming us personally. The highlight for Steve was Luca – the resident and very friendly Boxer dog. A small restaurant with indoor and outdoor (sun or shade) seating, a multitude of seating areas, a huge lawn and a lovely (if a bit small and rather cold) pool completed the picture. For less than £100/night including breakfast, in what we later learned was a VERY expensive city, this place was just WOW!

Still feeling lethargic we ate at the hotel – a delicious home cooked thali eaten outside and accompanied by a beer. The following morning we just lazed poolside after a lovely breakfast, vowing to explore Jaipur later, or the next day. Debbie got talking to an Aussie couple who mentioned that there may be a polo match that evening, so she made contact with Rajasthan Polo Club to try to get details and/or tickets. It was all very vague and uncertain, schedule not yet confirmed etc, but at 15.00 they emailed to say that a match was now scheduled for 17.00 and that they’d be delighted to see us there – no ticket required, just come along. We quickly got ourselves ready – changing into the best outfits we had at our disposal, so Steve’s new owl shirt and Debbie’s best flip flops got another outing, hoping that if they were good enough for the royal event in Udaipur they’d also be OK for polo. Most arrive at Rajasthan Polo Club in fancy cars but we rocked up in a tuk tuk, with Steve convinced that they wouldn’t let us in. On the contrary – they were most welcoming and desperate to interest more people in polo. We were early and got chatting to the club manager who told us that the Maharaja of Jaipur was playing that evening, explained a bit about polo, said that it was coming to the end of the season so there wasn’t much interest in the later matches and that he’d been trying to drum up support by contacting hotels. We were on the front row of the main stand – no uncomfy seats here, rather lovely padded sofa-style garden furniture. We’d already felt a little like imposters before the posh old Brits in chinos and blazer, with the wife in a straw boater, arrived. Oh well, we have no shame, we’ll brazen this one out!

A Quick Guide to Polo

There are four players on each team, numbered 1 to 4. Player 1 is the “striker” and plays up front, aiming to score goals, Player 4 is the defender, aiming to prevent the other team scoring and Players 2 and 3 are midfield doing a bit of both; Player 2 is more offensive and Player 3 is more defensive.

Each player has a handicap from -2 to +10 and the difference between the total of the team’s handicaps is added to the scoreboard at the start of the game. So if one team had a total of 12 and the other team a total of 15, the weaker team would start the game with a lead of 3 goals.

The players each have several “ponies”, although in fact they are horses of any size and breed, and each horse is only ridden for a few minutes at a time so that they don’t get overtired. The players must each change horse at the end of each period of play (“chukka”). A chukka lasts seven and a half minutes and there are four chukkas in a game, so the entire game is only 30 minutes of play.

The players hit a 3.5 inch solid wooden balls towards the goal, using long mallets and a foul occurs if an opponent crosses the path of the player with the ball, they have to tackle from behind. Fouls result in a free shot at goal from various distances depending on the severity of the foul. There are two, mounted, on field umpires who wear black and white striped shirts and an off-field umpire who arbitrates if the on-field umpires don’t agree. Finally, and most confusing, the direction of play reverses each time a goal is scored so that neither team is disadvantaged for too long by having the sun in their eyes.

Just before the 17.00 start time, a group of wealthy-looking Americans and their noisy brats, a British tour group who had no idea why they were there (an ‘extra’ arranged by their guide as his brother was involved with the club), plus 20 or so other spectators arrived. The commentator brilliantly explained what was going to happen and the basic rules of polo, the players and their ponies took to the field and the match began. Amazingly skillful & fast-paced, with excellent commentary, this was an exciting match. The home team lagged all the way through the game but with seconds to go, the Maharaja completed his goal hat-trick and snatched victory for his team by half a point. Prizegiving followed, presented by some of the American children, and then it was time for a drink.

There was high tea on the lawn and we thought we’d be pushing our luck trying to blag entry, but we were allowed into the ‘strictly members only’ Polo Palladio bar – sister establishment to the posh, beautifully designed and famous Bar Palladio that Debbie had already earmarked for a visit. It was stunning! We ordered a single gin each (Jodhpur for Steve, Jaisalmer for Debbie), a tonic to share and a bottle of sparkling water. Gin prices didn’t seem too steep on the menu but we didn’t see the price of water or tonic – once all the taxes had been added our bill was £33! It turned out that the San Pellegrino alone was over £10!! Oh well, it was nice gin, we got some decent snacks and the polo had been free, so overall £33 for the experience could be considered brilliant value.

A tuk tuk back to the hotel and we decided to eat at the Clocktower restaurant next door, which turned out to be a trendy microbrewery – so a couple of wheat beers for Steve, rose wheat beers for Debbie, pizza and pasta finished off an unexpectedly great day.

Next day we really did need to pop our heads out of our oasis and see some of Jaipur – just going to the Polo Club is probably not representative of the city – so we headed for the City Palace. Jaipur is known as the ‘Pink City’ and is different again to any of the Rajasthan cities we’d visited previously. ‘Pink’ is a bit of poetic license though – it’s more deep salmon or ‘dark peach coloured. Once we passed through the pink walls into the old city, we encountered a grid system, with long roads with pink arcades of shops, with names and numbers over each arch. The City Palace was crowded, expensive to enter and apparently not as impressive as some we’d already seen, so we didn’t bother going in (we may regret that but hey ho) and instead went to Jantar Mantar opposite. This was an observatory built in 1728 that resembles a collection of bizarre giant sculptures for measuring the heavens – a bit different to the usual palaces and forts.

Past the pink tuk tuks (all driven by women, part of a social enterprise) we got our first glimpse of Hawa Mahal – the iconic highlight of Jaipur (and the cover photo on both Lonely Planet and The Rough Guide to India), an extraordinary pink-painted, delicately honeycombed hive that rises 5 stories and built to enable the ladies of the royal household to watch the life and processions of the city. We climbed up to the rooftop cafe opposite to get the best view, got chatting to a couple of guys from London & Belgium, and were eventually asked to leave as we were taking prime viewing spaces for too long! Walking through the galleries past the shops, and in search of an ATM (shop 329 we were told in the bank, who bizarrely didn’t have one), the sights, sounds and smells were very reminiscent of Marrakech.

Our final dinner was again at Clocktower – it was nice, next door and we were lazy – but we took weird food combinations to new levels. Paneer 65 to share as a starter (“it’s very hot’ warned the waiter, and it certainly was spicy), shish kebabs for Debbie, chicken risotto for Steve was all served together. Delicious but odd!

Debbie liked Jaipur, thinking that it was rather like Marrekech in many ways, especially the ancient and traditional city centre juxtaposed with luxury hotels, trendy bars & restaurants and sky high prices. Steve was less keen but might have thought differently if we’d visited earlier in our Rajasthan trip and had explored more of the highlights.

The Kingfisher Beer Index went out of the window here – we were paying London prices and higher – and Jacobs Creek hit £40/bottle (no, we most certainly did not buy one!). We imagine that you could do Jaipur cheaply, but it’s far more suited to an indulgent stay with a bit of culture thrown in.

So that’s the end of the Rajasthan cities, just a tiger (hopefully) safari trip in Ranthambore National Park next to complete our exploration of India’s biggest state……