the 24-hour vibe in udaipur
i just got off a rickety bus that smelled like diesel and jasmine somewhere outside udaipur. the guy next to me kept muttering about 'the weather today' like it was a prophecy. i checked my phone-24.06°c, humidity 22, pressure 1016. that's the kind of dry heat that makes your lips split and your camera fog up the second you step out. feels like the universe is gently reminding you: 'you're not in your home climate, buddy.'
if you get bored, ajmer andPushkar are just a short drive away. i met a guy at a chai stall who said, 'don't trust the monsoon forecast; it'll be a decade before it rains here.' he wasn't kidding. the sky was that bleached blue that makes everything look like a faded photograph. someone told me that the best spot to watch the sunset is on the dune behind the abandoned petrol pump-apparently a drunk brit told him that in '09. i went. it was epic. the sand turned the color of copper pennies.
[speaking of photos, i snapped a few. here's a glimpse:]
*overheard at the internet cafe: 'they raised the price of filter coffee again. now it's 127 rupees. last year it was 120.' i'm not sure where that number came from, but it's stuck in my head like a song. maybe it's the code to the wifi? i tried it. no luck.
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i heard from a fruit seller that the old city walls have a hidden stepwell that floods every seven years. he said the last time it happened, a guy found a bag of silver coins dated 1356. i didn't believe him till he showed me a grainy photo on his phone. it looked legit.
>another gem from a bartender in a backpacker joint: 'avoid the northside of town after dark. the patrols don't speak english and they'll take your camera for ‘suspicious activity.' i nodded like i understood, then promptly got lost and ended up at a temple where a sadhu blessed me with a handful of marigolds and a warning: 'the monsoon will come early this year.' that's the thing about this place-everyone's a prophet, and every number has a story.
gear i actually used: a floppy hat that's seen three continents, a reusable water bottle that tastes like biena, a scarf i stole from a hostel in goa, and my phone-which constantly blinks 'low storage' but still takes decent pics.
pro-tip: if you’re looking for that perfect ‘desert nomad’ shot, climb the sand dune behind the abandoned pump around 4:30 pm. the light is soft, the shadows are long, and you might catch a glimpse of a nilgai (that's an antelope, btw) sprinting across the scrub. just watch out for the thorns-they’re like tiny daggers.
city infrastructure: the wifi here is slower than a sleep-deprived snail. power cuts happen like clockwork at 2 pm and 8 pm. bring a power bank. the roads are a mosaic of potholes and cow dung. but somehow it works.
food scene: i ate the messiest, most delicious dal baati at a hole-in-the-wall near the palace. it costs 80 rupees, comes with three refills, and the guy refuses to write a yelp review because 'the government watches.' i still left a 5-star rating on a local forum (udaipur eats), figuring he'd never know.
a friend who's been coming here for years swears the best samosas are at the stall next to the temple with the blue doors. i went. they were okay. but the chai? legendary. he also said the monsoon will be late this year. i'm keeping my umbrella folded just in case.
something a local warned me about*: don't drink the tap water, obviously. but also, don't trust anyone who says 'no problem' three times in a row. that's a code for 'i'm about to rip you off.' i learned that after paying 500 rupees for a 'special' lassi that tasted like yogurt and regret.
anyway, i'm heading back to my $6/night hostel now. the fan works, the sheets are crisp, and the guy below is snoring like a tractor. i love this city. messy, contradictory, and full of hidden numbers.
i just checked the weather and it's...there right now, hope you like that kind of thing.